His Majesty's Dragons: The Battle of Britain

[Charon]

Kunja had been sobered up only slightly by Jeb's attempts, but what progress had been made was lost all over again when Frostfell came up and started talking to them. The large lightweight could barely support himself he was laughing so hard. "Yes, he's as tame as a dog! You can tell by the way he wags his tail and tilts his head and sits when he's told!" The Victorian was grinning himself now, making it apparent that he was continuing the Wendigo's joke.

[Cynical Cat]

"Ooh," said Frostfell, addressing Jebediah. "You have bite. That's good. We have a use for your skills, but none if you are a coward." He showed fangs. "After all the Jotunmeister has an advantage in weight. Its not fair if we give up an advantage in position as well. I mean, despite the general consensus of you over civilized soft southerners that I am an empty shell, I am exactly what I say I am; but giving up weight and position against a Jotunmeister isn't a winning combination even for me. As loath as I am to say it, the weight difference matters; especially since they aren't as slow and stupid as those Kampfritters.

[LadyTevar]

Jeb eyed Frostfell carefully, ignoring the fanged smile as he deliberately looked up and down the neck and chest. That was just the White Bastard's attempt to intimidate. Jeb wasn't going to give the satisfaction. "Seein' th' Kampy-whatises, Ah kin honestly say tha' tain't hard." Unsaid was the 'you do it'. "There's still a spot o' blue paint on ya..."

[Cynical Cat]

"Yes," said Frostfell, "that's exactly the spirit we'll need. A nice sting to it. Keep it up and keep your wits. If it goes through, I'll be doing the lion's share of the killing and the bleeding, but you'll be put through your paces and if you fuck it up you'll be in a world of hurt."

[LadyTevar]

Obviously, Frostfell knew something Jebediah didn't know. It made the much smaller SmokeDevil's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Yer gloatin' o'er som'thin'... ya gonna spit it out behind those teeth ya lik' showin' off? 'Cause if ya ain'tint, Ah'm gonna finish my dinner."

[Cynical Cat]

Frostfell showed a mouth of fangs. "I know many things. If you have a question, ask it."

[LadyTevar]

To loom and show fangs at Jebediah, the huge Wendigo had to lower his head down to the Smoke Devil's level. Since Frostfell liked to crowd and cow his target, that put him very close indeed. Jebediah made the mistake of doing that to Ma McClung once.

*Whap* went Jeb's wing across the tip of Frostfell's snout, just as Ma McClung had whapped Jeb forty years gone. "Close yer mouth afore ya swallow a fly," Jeb told him, echoing the woman he saw reborn in Judith.

[Cynical Cat]

Frostfell threw back his head and laughed again. "Yes, yes! That's exactly it." He lowered his head, quick as a striking snake to affectionately bump heads with the smaller Smokedevil. The rough and tumble northern dragon's idea of a friendly head bump was closer to that of a head butt than anything else, but even a friendly Wendigo is still a Wendigo.

[LadyTevar]

Jebediah had to blink a moment or two from the headbutt before looking up at Frostfell and slowly shaking his head. "Yer too damn'd happy, Frostfell. Tain't like ya." Truth be told, Jeb wasn't sure he liked 'happy Frostfell' better. "Wha'ere's gotcha that happy can't be good, and Ah'm sure ain't got nothin' ta do wit' Æquitas."

[Cynical Cat]

"How would you know how often I feel joy, little one?" said Frostfell. "We have known each other for a handful of days and none of you have looked passed your preconceptions. In one thing you are right, I do take pleasure in Aequitas's displeasure. He has insulted me and Nathan and as Nathan wished, I did not make him pay for that in blood and pain. Now he threatens his superior officers with death he cannot inflict. He feels free to mock me and call me a coward, but what does that make him? I have killed in my fury while his is impotent. He calls me a bully and thug, but when roused he expects his anger to be respected. Can you not see the humor in that?"

[LadyTevar]

"Nope," Jeb answered truthfully. "Jis' a lotta pain o'er som'thin' 'tween him n' tha' Tememraire fella tha's none o' our neverminds." Jebediah's head turned to look at the silent Celestial, then back up to Frostfell. " 'Course... if yer ta ask me... Ah'd say t'was a dead Captain.... som'thin' Ah hope you n'ver hav' th' misery o' knowin'."

"Now... kin' Ah go back ta eatin' now, or are ya gonna keep talkin'?"

[Cynical Cat]

"You asked me to speak little one. Don't you remember?" said Frostfell. "As for dead captains, I know something of captains with dead dragons. A loss that Aequitas chooses not to respect." He walked away stiffly.

[LadyTevar]

Jebediah let Frostfell go, thoughtfully chewing on the last bite of his sheep. Nice taste, sheep. Not like cow, not like deer. "Kunja... Ah'm thinkin' we may not be wingmates next formation..." Jeb ruminated, thinking on the hints Frostfell had dropped.

[Charon]

Kunja had been rather enjoying Frostfell's talk, especially since he had little love for Aequitas as well. But as the white dragon left he turned his attention back to Jeb. "Wouldn't hold your breath on that. Frostfell doesn't call the shots around here and we did a damn fine job on that last run." Kunja finished his meal with one final gulp. "Though who knows, we run another drill you might be flyin' with him."

[LadyTevar]

"Might at that," Jebediah shrugged, and then gave Kunja a lazy grin. "Might be fun seein' iffen Ah can head you off. Ah'm bettin' Judith's a better shot than yer Captain."

Since Judith learned to shoot just to put meat on the table, that was a good bet. She was a regular Annie Oakley.

[Charon]

"Might at that," Jebediah shrugged, and then gave Kunja a lazy grin. "Might be fun seein' iffen Ah can head you off. Ah'm bettin' Judith's a better shot than yer Captain."

Since Judith learned to shoot just to put meat on the table, that was a good bet. She was a regular Annie Oakley.

Kunja grinned. "Well then I'd guess it's a damn good thing bein' a better shot ain't worth much when all you've got automatics that're peashooters while yer flyin' dragons."

[LadyTevar]

"True 'nuff," Jebediah replied with an equally friendly chuckle. "R'mber that when she paints ya'll both 'twixt th' eyes. A'course, then they'll hav'ta go off bathin' each other 'gain..." he added with a mock shake of the head. He should be feeling sorry for Captain Jake, if Judith was Ma McClung reborn. Any woman who could keep husband, two sons, and a growing dragon in line was a force to be reckoned with.

[General Havoc]

"I should say he is," said Admiral Tolkien, barely sparing a glance over at the late disturbance. "I would never have envisioned it possible for them to pen John Taggart behind a desk, but then I suppose I am not one to talk."

"Don't mind those two," he said to the others as Æquitas flew off. "Old emnities die hard. Both Æquitas and Temeraire are professionals, or else they wouldn't be here. Best to let angry dragons lie..."

He returned his gaze to the son of John Taggart. "And how is Godfrey? Still as eager as ever I hope? We need every Spitfire we can manage in the air."

*--------------------------------------------*

"I imagine that was a little less cordial than he was accustomed to."

"I am in no mood."

"Well then, far be it from me to push a dangerous rampaging Malachite. After all, I'd hate to have my throat torn out..."

The remark earned Fulminatus a savage glare, but nothing more. It was not the sort of rebuke that the American Reaper appeared to take to heart.

"Bad blood?"

"You could say that."

The American Reaper rolled his eyes. "You limeys..."

"I've had quite enough of this nonsense out of that white braggart for one day to listen to you bluster. Go confer with him on the noble purity of American dragons for a while. I'm busy."

Fulminatus merely smirked. "Whelp, I signed up for a war, and those involve taking orders. He'll learn that one o' these days, and if he doesn't, then someone'll beat some sense into his head. Doesn't mean I can't say what I like. Doesn't mean he can't either."

"Then say it to someone who's interested, and I'm not a damned whelp."

"You're all damned whelps to me," replied the American, but there was no particular malice to the words, and Fulminatus sat down on the bluff a good thirty yards from the younger Malachite, staring off at the channel shore.

"You fixing to take that Celestial on?"

Æquitas snorted. "No. Just setting the boundaries."

"Not wise to piss one of them off."

"Lord Temeraire," said Æquitas acidly, "is a 140-year veteran. He won't start anything, and neither will I, not while there's a war on. We can't spare either of us, and I won't risk the damage it would do to Michael." He turned to Fulminatus for a moment. "You're not going to ask what happened?"

"Don't see how it matters," said Fulminatus. "Least not to me. You and the black one have a reason to fight, it's your business. Why? You fixing to tell someone?"

"No," said Æquitas. "I am most certainly not."

"Then, if I were you, and I ain't, but if I were, I'd go see to your captain and forget about every Heavyweight in the world except the ones it's your job to see brought down."

"Would you?"

"I would, but like I said, I ain't you."

"And the Celestial? And the Wendigo?"

"That Celestial's here for some special program or other, right? So I don't see how he's any of your business to deal with. And as to the Wendigo, hell... just throw him at the most convenient Kraut and see what happens."

"Is that what you'd do with him?"

Fulminatus shrugged. "It's what I'd do with me. Probably work well enough for him."

"You can fly in formation. Obey orders."

"I'm a hundred and four years old. I ran out my piss and vinegar back in my first couple wars. Give 'im an order, see what he does. He does it right, give 'im another. He ignores it, smack him one. He hits you back, make sure he learns what happens when he messes with you."

"We can't spare him, or me, for the infirmaries. Besides, he knows full well he's among the larger dragons here."

Another shrug greeted that comment. "Up to you then. 'f it was me though, I'd piss him off. See what it gets you next time one of them Jotuns comes to town."

"... I imagine you would."

*----------------------------------------------------------------*

Brighton, East Sussex:

"Sir, I've got a funny reading here."

The radar watch officer strolled over to the radar operator and stared into the oscilloscope. "Are you sure this thing's been calibrated properly?"

"I have sir, cross-checked it twice."

"Well then what the devil are those?"

"I... I'm not sure sir, it claims they're dragons."

"But... where did they come from? They weren't there a moment ago."

"Not sure. I'm trying to plot an intercept."

"Get me RAF Sussex. We may have an inbound..."

"SIR!"

The oscilloscopes suddenly burst to life with the signals of a full squadron of dragons that materialized on the scopes as if by magic, apparently directly overhead. The watch officer barely had time to drop his tea before the "KRUMPH" sounds of bombs landing outside the heavily re-enforced structure filtered through the ferro-concrete walls.

The lights went out.

"They've hit the power station! All scopes are out!"

"Ring Uxbridge! Tell them we've an attack in progress and to scramble all flights! Bloody hell, how did they sneak up on us like this?!"

"The phone lines are dead, sir!" shouted someone. "They've taken out the wires!"

"Radio then..."

"The transmitter tower's down! We're trying to rig something else..." The walls shook again and dust fell from the ceiling.

"Jesus Bloody Christ..." said someone. "If they can sneak up on Brighton then...

"GET ME A DAMNED RADIO!"

*----------------------------------------------------------*

"Wir haben bestätigt, Herr Oberst, dass die Radar-Anlage wurde zerstört."

"Und ihre Kommunikation?"

"Jagdgeschwader 13 ist dafür zu sorgen, dass keine Nachricht wird gesendet."

"Sehr gut, um den Streik."

"Jawohl."

*----------------------------------------------------------*

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"I somehow doubt that," said Æquitas. "Regardless, I think we shall attempt it."

"Hatchling, I ain't your damned babysitter!" snapped Fulminatus.

"No, but the request was for a lighter dragon..."

"I am not a commander, and I am not your damned nursemaid. Get one of the..."

"You were saying something a moment ago about obeying orders?"

Fulminatus stopped. "You can't even be serious about this..."

"It'll piss him off, won't it?"

"It'll piss me off!"

"Then it will work doubly well. I'll suggest it to Michael when I get back. If he agrees, then I expect you will do your duty, as you signed on to do."

"This is bullshit..."

"War is hell," said Æquitas with a smirk. "We'll see you back at the base." And with that, the Malachite flew off back towards the Covert.

Fulminatus remained behind for a time, snarling and muttering to himself in half a dozen languages. He too was about to turn back when the wind shifted, and he paused for a moment, and raised his snout, and sniffed.

... dragon.

The smell was faint, but it was definitely coming from the beach. Probably the Venomspitter, though whoever let that one wander off alone was a damned fool. Venomspitters killed accidentally after all. Fulminatus trotted down the cliff face, landing on the beach below, walking up around the various bluffs towards the location where the smell was coming from, already mentally preparing the loud and angry protest he would make to the Australian captain that let his dragon roam off to...

He turned the corner and froze, staring straight ahead at the sight that greeted him.

"Oh sonova...

*----------------------------------------------------------*

Captain Rankin had not gone more than a hundred yards from the base when, as always, his dragon found him.

"What the devil has gotten into you?" asked Captain Rankin as soon as his dragon had landed.

"You heard us then?"

"Me and half the bloody shire. Am I going to have to wipe you off the ground after Temeraire finishes with you?"

"Why Michael," said Æquitas with a smirk, "are you suggesting I would not best Temeraire in a duel?" He gave an artistic sigh. "There was a time not so long ago when you thought I was the mightiest dragon in the world." He feigned dismay and lowered his head. "Alas..."

"Oh stuff it, you overgrown salamander," said Rankin as he climbed on-board. "I thought we agreed that there was to be no retaliation. In fact, you were the one that insisted on it."

"And there won't be," said Æquitas. "Trust me."

"As you like. Now let's head back to the covert. We've a lot of work to do before..."

And then came the sound of a not-so-distant explosion, and everything else was rendered moot.

*----------------------------------------------------------*

"Ah, Captain," said Admiral Tolkien. "I trust your arrival was uneventful? We're going to be calling on Veritas a great deal in the months ahead. I assume that you have been..."

Admiral Tolkien was interrupted by a roar.

All eyes, human and draconic, turned upwards, and an instant later, three enormous black shapes plunged out of the clouds overhead. A trio of dragons as large as small warships, the three figures dove towards the ground with all the speed gravity could provide, flames belching from the turrets on their bellys, wings, and backs, as their crews scrambled over their harnesses and one by one, released smaller black objects that fell away to earth as the dragons pulled up. No sooner did they do so, than a pair of smaller beasts followed, spitting not just fire, but fluorescent green acid at everything that seemed willing to offer even the slightest resistance.

The first bomb went off at the same time as the air raid sirens.

Suddenly there was confusion everywhere, as crew and dragons and captains rushed in every direction even as bombs began going off in every direction. A 37mm Antiaircraft gun opened up from one side of the covert, and was obliterated a second later by a 50 kilo bomb, as all three heavyweights flew low over the covert, their machine guns and machine cannons strafing everything in sight. At this distance, it was easy to identify the assailants. Kampfritters, who now made a wide turn and came around for another pass, their bomb loads jettisoned, ready for a fight. And even as they did so, the Aufsehers behind them split up, each one aiming at the most obvious ground target visible. One at Veritas, one at Frostfell. Passing above both dragons, the Luftwaffe dragons lowered their heads and released streams of hydrofluorocarbonic acid straight at their targets, hoping to kill both heavyweights dead with one pass, and then deal with everything else.

And over the radio, cracking with the static of the ongoing attack, came a command from lord-knew-who, perhaps simply the radio officer on watch during this hour.

"Scramble! Scramble! All captains to your dragons! Scramble! We are under attack!"

The last part was probably un-necessary.

[LadyTevar]

The explosion caused Jeb to jerk his head up from his meal. The roars from above jerked his head skywards to see the trio of huge black dragons.

The SmokeDevil didn't wait to learn more. "JUDITH!" he screamed, forgetting everything but *Protect His Captain* in that one moment of panic. He was already snaking his way towards her as the bombs started hitting the buildings at Tangmere.

Unlike Jeb, the distant explosion was too faint for Judith to hear, especially since she was listening to Admiral Tolkien speak to Jonathan about his father and his dragon. The roars from above caught her attention, making her look up. She was still trying to process what she saw when Jake grabbed her and pulled her protectively to the ground.

From there, she felt the bombs hitting the ground outside the pens, heard buildings shattering, heard Jeb's scream mixed in with other draconic roars... and saw the AcidSpitters dive down.

Jeb saw them as well, and two things saved him from getting hit. First, they were aiming for Frostfell and Veritas, not the tiny bluish dragon running by. Second, Aufseher acid fell like hailstones, in large globs, not like the fine rain produced by the British Longwings. Hailstones can be avoided if you're small enough. "JUDITH!"

[Charon]

Jake and Kunja looked up as the three giant dragons fell from the sky.

"What?! Where the he-" Jake was cut off by the explosions as he grabbed Judith and went to the ground, covering her from the sprays of dirt and wood.

Jake's first words were not to watch for the Aufsehers or for the Kampfritters. He had spent time around venomspitters, and the ones he knew got very dangerous to be near when they were spooked. "Watch Cap!"

Kunja took a few steps back as the bombs came down, unlike many of the others the lightweight still had his combat harness and other gear on, as he hadn't had the time since he got back to take them off.

As an Aufseher passed overhead Kunja crouched low and avoided the spray, then leapt into the air, beating his wings once and then gliding quickly over to the fence. The lightweight didn't bother to avoid the wooden enclosure and simply smashed on top of it ten feet from his captain. "Jake!"

Jake got to his feet and looked to Kunja. "I'm alright. Let's go!" Jake looked back at Judith. "Stay safe, we'll try to keep them busy!" Jake didn't pause another moment as he leapt for his dragon and grabbed one of the lines, pulling himself up towards his seat even as his dragon left the ground again, trying desperately to gain altitude.

[Agent Fisher]

Jonathon smiled. "Godfrey's good sir." He said. "He's looking forward to earning Ace Status for a second war." The young captain said with a smile.

Suddenly explosions were ringing in the air, the heat wave of explosions washing over them. Jonathon tackled the Admiral, covering him with his body. With his ears ringing, he regained his bearing took off running towards Godfrey, who thankfully was still harnessed up, a practice the Spitfire had picked up in the previous war, not unharnessing until the end of the day.

The young captain was in a dead sprint, his dragon roaring upwards at the Jerry Dragons, shooting flames at any that swooped too low. The Spitfire saw his captain running, and moved towards him closing the distance. Jonathon reached his dragon, quickly scrambling up the side. He managed to close the carabiner just as the Spitfire took flight.

[rhoenix]

The three ominous black dragons diving toward them caused Veritas' instincts, bred over many generations in Russia to be their human companion's bodyguard first and foremost, to leap to the fore without losing a beat.

Grabbing his Captain gently, Veritas curled up swiftly into a ball, his wings completely covering the rest of his curled body, and more importantly, his Captain. A second later, he uncurled just as quickly, and jumped to his feet, making the local ground shake. The dragon's and Captain's eyes met briefly, enough to have an entire combination in a moment, something only possible if the two had nearly grown up together.

They raced toward their crew, who had begun laying out equipment when the first explosion was heard. Even so, it would be a few minutes before Veritas had enough equipment to properly take the fight to the skies, and carve bloody vengeance against those who snuck up on their base.

Captain Braithwaite assisted his crew in getting all the little laborious details finished, a habit that more than one superior officer had attempted to correct him on. This tendancy of his to "get his hands dirty" was a blessing in this case.

Even so, Veritas was trying mightily to be patient while all the gear was putting on, attempting with some success to not be jealous of the smaller dragons, who could simply take off with their Captain and be ready to draw blood. "Veritas," exclaimed one of the crew in concern and surprise, "you have some acid spatters on you! We must wait while those are properly treated before we take flight!"

"I will only wait until the equipment is on before embracing the sky," Veritas growled. "I have no time for a few petty bandages when we must shower these grounds with German blood!"

The crewmember in question looked plaintively at Captain Braithwaite, but the Captain's answer wasn't "reasonable" either. "Clean them, but don't bother bandaging them unless you have to."

Both Captain and dragon waited with rapidly-waning patience for the last of the armor, equipment, and guns were in place, and for the last of the active enemy dragon acid to be washed off. Thanks to the efforts of the Captain and his crew, Veritas took a mighty leap into the air fully-equipped, and began to gain speed and altitude. Captain Braithwaite signalled his radio operator, and he sent a message on the same frequency normally used by the dragons and captains of this base so far.

"Attention Tangmere! This is Captain Braithwaite aboard Veritas. Any specific orders Captain Rankin, or can we begin carving up some German spitters?"

[Cynical Cat]

The slight tang of hydrofluorocarbonic acid was in the air. It was something Nathan would never forget. Screaming in agony as Tacitus fell through the sky, his own flesh bubbling away an a blaze of undescribable agony. Lying in No Man's Land, danging by half dissolved lines and screaming as Tacitus thrashed out his last, his hands unable to quite reach his knife.

His right hand fell to stroke the butt of the Webley .455, a gun he had chosen because it had the punch to mercy-kill Frostfell if he shot him in the eye. Every other night he remember that horror. It was just the Venomspitter. Nothing to worry about.

Then he saw the Kampfritters and realized he had been wrong, very badly wrong. Swaths of flames fell from the air as well as high explosives. Thunder ruled the world around him. Shrapnel sliced through the leather of his mask and flying jacket to lay open his cheek and left arm. Another fragment slid over his tenth rib, laying open a long shallow cut across his abdomen.

Horror unfolded in front of him as he watched the Aufsehers begin their attack run. Bullets whizzed by him as his crew fumbled for cover. Davies was blown in half by a 20mm cannon, his abdomen completely annihilated. Nathan wasn't watching. Acid gushed towards his unarmoured dragon. If Nathan had still believed in God he would have prayed.

He got his miracle. Frostfell was fast for his size and even faster without armour. He was wild as well, used to operating without captain or crew when he stalked and killed. His reactions were superb. It was just enough.

He feinted towards Veritas, drawing the Aufseher slightly out of position while actually spring up and into the air in the other direction, his wings biting the air. The German dragon shifted back and exhaled, but mistimed the acid blast, failing to lead the white dragon enough. Most of it missed, with only part of a glob hitting his right hind leg.

Pain and rage surged through Frostfell. He had no crew and he couldn't go and pick them up. Nathan was trapped on the ground which had become a killing field. He might already be dead. The oh so smart know it all Brits and their formation loving ways were caught by surprise despite their technological toys and they were going to have to fight and survive with only the tools that nature gave them against dragons with captains, gunners, and cannons.

Let it be. Wendigo lived in the Arctic and had no illusions about nature. They lived with red tooth and claw and he had not forgotten. He would show them all. The killing fury mounted, almost driving out reason as the white dragon surged for height. Nathan was down there, quite possibly dead. If so Frostfell would see to it that a flight of German dragons preceded him into Hell.

[General Havoc]

Under sudden and unexpected assault from above, every dragon reacted differently. Some panicked, or near to it. Some ran of to find their captains. Some took to the air independently in search of battle. Capricorn, reacting instinctively, and faster than his Captain could, pounced on Captain Kelly like a cat and unfurled his wings to cover them both as the turret gunners on the German dragons strafed them. The rounds thudded into Capricorn, causing nothing worse than flesh wounds and light cuts, for these were deflection shots from long range, and yet had Capricorn not acted, his captain would likely have been perforated.

Some reacted with less circumspection.

Veritas had taken only minor impacts from the acid spray, for had he not, he would have rolled about the tarmac in agony. Rather impetuously though, he had decided to instruct his crew to kit him out under fire. The process of attaching even the most elementary combat rig to a heavyweight, let alone batteries, turrets, and armored harnesses, could be counted upon to take two dozen men a quarter of an hour at absolute top speed. To do so under fire was madness.

To do so under fire while sitting still, illuminated by his red scales and enormous size while German dragons bounced them, was nearly fatal.

The Kampfritters had expended their bombs on ground targets, and the Aufsehers were cycling back around, but there were other germans in the air, among them a pair of Swabian Lightning Bolts, situated up in the clouds with bombs attached. From there, they could not see the chaos on the ground, but one of the men on a Kampfritter called them down to target the enormous heavyweight in the center of the tarmac, and both responded. Diving out of the clouds like fishing eagles, both dragons' crews released their bombs overhead and pulled up. A lucky gust of wind blew one off course, and instead of striking Veritas, it obliterated the harness-crane next to him, incinerating half-a-dozen men in a split second. The other one, a 200kg high explosive bomb capable of striking dead any dragon it hit, struck Veritas in the shoulder, and blew up.

The blast would have killed all but four or five of the sturdiest heavyweights alive. Fortunately, Veritas was a Crimson Angel, and his breed qualified for the above. Nevertheless, the impact was nothing short of an apocalypse. Seven men, scrambling around Veritas' back, were blown to spots of blood and chunks of flesh. The harness was peeled back like an orange and literally blasted off of the dragon's hide, one turret pinwheeling through the air and landing upside down on top of the RT hut, crushing to death the unfortunate turret gunner inside. One wing was broken so badly as to present a spire of bone sticking through the scaled skin, while the foreleg that the bomb had struck was instantly dislocated, and the flesh burnt back down to the bare shoulder blade. The mighty dragon's collar was cracked in three places, its neck lacerated, its eardrums ruptured and bleeding. Bottles of antacid solution exploded all over the dragon, as did every sensitive piece of electronics, and the harness battery, which sprayed battery acid all over the dragon's belly and flanks, dousing another unfortunate crewman, who rolled about on the ground in agony.

And yet despite all this, Veritas was incredibly lucky, for had a heavyweight delivered the bomb in question, it would have been six times stronger, and no doubt have blown him cleanly in half.

*------------------------------------------------------------*

"Dear Christ..."

"We've got company!"

Æquitas rolled over and dropped fifty feet as a Prussian Bluejacket flew out of nowhere and nearly cleaved Rankin's head off. Up ahead was a scene of absolute pandemonium, as German heavy and special weapons dragons flew over the base dropping bombs and acid, and the British and allied dragons struggled to take off.

"We've got to get in there, now!"

"We've got no radio, no crew, and no bloody harness!"

"Those Kampfritters will wreck the entire base if we let them, Dive in and break them up."

"Damnit, hold on..."

Æquitas jackknifed in mid-air and plunged into the maelstrom, ignoring machine gun fire arcing his way. Two Bluejackets were in hot pursuit, roaring cries of incoherant rage and victory, while ahead, a Swabian that had just finished its dive was pulling up to pass the left. Æquitas brushed by it and gave it a long slash across the flank, results unknown, before singling out one of the Aufsehers and driving in towards it. The Aufseher spotted its assailant too late, but unfortunately the same could not be said of the Kampfritter that cut in at the last second, forcing Æquitas to bear away or have his throat torn out by the massive German Heavyweight.

"I can't get through unsupported!" said Æquitas, "and if we let them board us..."

"I know," said Rankin, painfully aware that he had only his revolver with him at present. "We need more dragons in the air here!"

That was the last that could be said for a while, as the Bluejackets redoubled their pursuit efforts, bullets sheering past and into Æquitas, who could do nothing more than maneuver and try and circle around. Until he did so however, there was no way he could penetrate the enemy squadron alone.

*-----------------------------------------------*

Spitfires were considered "high priority targets" by the Luftwaffe, which would probably explain what happened next.

One Kampfritter had doubled back to guard the Aufsehers, but the other two embarked on assaults on their highest priority targets. Originally, this had included the Crimson Angel, but the bombs had crippled it, and the Kampfritter's crews now shifted targets. One picked the Wendigo screaming up from below, and winged over to ram it head on, cannons blasting away, teeth and claws extended. The other selected the Spitfire, turning as tightly as it could, before falling in behind the dragon still scrambling for altitude, its turrets belching fire towards the vulnerable special weapons dragon as it closed to melee range, the crew already preparing for "fire engagement."

*-------------------------------------------------*

"Herr Oberst, Leichtgewichte nähert sich aus dem Hafen Flügel!"

"Ich werde mit ihnen umzugehen mich. Bestell-Zerstörung und Tilgung unterstützen mich."

"Aber Oberst, ist es klug, damit Sie ..."

"Ich bin nicht irgendein Pferd Zucht in einem Bereich, Gras fressen! Schicken Sie die Bestellung!"

"Jawol, und gute Jagd, Kommandant!"

*-------------------------------------------------*

As Kunja rose into the air, Tempestas, the Greyling that had never been unharnessed from before rose alongside him, its captain loading a clip into his Sten gun. There was no specific target that had yet presented itself, they were simply flying in the general direction of the "enemy", until something appeared that made even the Greyling hesitate.

From one of the Kampfritters' backs, rose a small red figure, no larger than a lightweight, that spread its wings and banked off towards the two allied lightweights. Even within a field of Heavyweight monsters and Aufsehers, this one small dragon was enough for Captain Bader to freeze in mid-load and just stare as it approached them carefully and with poise. Overhead, a pair of German Leuchtkaffers descended from the clouds to join it, but neither of them were of concern right now, for as the small red dragon approached, it became clear what it was, a Speckled Bavarian, its normal brown and burnished toffee scales painted over in a bold, bright red, with black iron crosses stenciled onto its wings. The two Leuchtkaffers fell into position alongside it, but it took the lead, a rivetting, commanding presence, instantly recognizable to anyone who had a pair of eyes and a memory of the tales of the Great War.

"Jesus Bloody Christ," said Captain Bader loud enough for Jake and Kunja to hear. "It's Albatros!

He didn't get the chance to say more, for the two Leuchtkaffers broke and made straight for him, while the red-painted Albatros, the most famous German veteran of the Great War, the dragon of Manfried von Richtoffen, the Red Baron, who terrorized the skies over France and Flanders for three long years, and the single most accomplished Lightweight in the history of modern war, carefully selected the miniaturized Queen Victoria's Reaper before him as his own target, and advanced to the fight.

[Charon]

Jake and Kunja did not need an introduction. Both dragon and captain skipped a beat as they saw the red dragon come from under cover. As the two Leuchtkaffers appeared Kunja sputtered. "Oh come on! This is just over...kill..."

The Leuchtkaffer's were going after Tepestas, which left Kunja in the air alone against the single greatest dragon that had ever lived. Albatros had apparently noticed this as well and was swiftly making his way towards the Australian duo.

"Jack! Run!" Jake yelled out as he lowered himself down on his dragon and gripped the handle of the paintball gun that was still the only weapon he had besides his knife. Kunja had already turned and beat his wings hard, Kunja was headed back towards the fighting now, skirting the "edge" of the German attackers position. Jake kept low in the saddle, keeping his eyes over his shoulder to keep an eye on Albatros to see what he did.