His Majesty's Dragons: World at War

[JimmyTheCannon]

The sight of the Red Baron gave Jimmy pause. Everyone knew that painted hide. Faustus didn't miss a beat, however, pushing forward strongly at the sight of the enemy. Even Jeb's roar of challenge didn't slow the Bonetail, although the dragon did suppress a wince at the sound. Captain Cannon patted his neck, half-deaf but still hearing the order. "You heard the dragon. Let's get him!"

The rust-red dragon surged forward alongside Jebediah, blood surging through him as the Smoke-Devil's singing filled the air. Jimmy grinned tightly at the song, letting out a wild cheer. They were charging Albatros, the Red Baron. Whatever happened, this was something to remember - and with any luck, they might get Kaltur out of there without any of them getting too badly hurt.

[dragnl0rd]

Alacritas was tired... marcus a bit less so. But after seeing that red hide and listening to the crazy American dragon bellow a holy challenge to the most infamous dragon of the European theatre, much emphasis was placed on the past tense. Knowing that the two combat lightweights providing his slipstream were more combat able than he, Marcus instead pulled out his binoculars and scanned the area, alert for friend and foe alike, trying not to think about his two remaining clips. Alacritas pumped his wings to stay in formation, the pain from his puncture wounds relegated to things he would think about later. Assuming of course, they survived the sortie.

[Hawkwings]

The support from the Norwegian dragon had allowed the RAF crew a bit of time to gather and organize. Nearly all of the British crewmembers were back on their dragon now, having been helped a great deal by the friendly medium providing cover. However, it looked like the Valdemarian was flying off again, leaving Luna and crew to face the Nimbus alone. That dark shape was hurtling along under the waves, like some massive torpedo carrying a payload of teeth, claws, and angry Italians. Bullets were useless - the little scattered gunfire left was directed at the stray Italians in the water. Instead, someone was passing out grenades from a case that had more or less survived the impact. Hoping to replicate some of the other crew's success, indicated by several fresh bodies rising to the surface, one of the Royal Marines had the grenadiers ready and heave as the black shape closed in on its collision course. Roughly a dozen splashed into the water ahead of the Nimbus, and their detonations just a few seconds apart from each other caused fairly impressive water sprays on the surface. Their effect below, however, was not apparent at all.

Meanwhile, Emily had retrieved a radio and was trying to get the waterlogged equipment working. As two red-coated marines stood watch, she adjusted and fiddled, receiving nothing but static for her efforts. She spared a moment to glance skyward, seeing a few shapes up overhead. With no communications, there was no way to tell how the battle above was progressing. She kept trying, and was suddenly distracted from her efforts when a crewmember in the back yelled "Brace for impact!"

Emily grabbed the radio with one hand, a bony scale with another, and held on tight. Luna had craned her head around to see, evaluated quickly, and said "Everyone prepare to get wet again, I will roll and try to grab it..."

[Cynical Cat]

Frostfell threw back his head and roared in triumph. "WHEN YOU GET TO HELL, TELL THE DEVIL THAT FROSTFELL SENT YOU! TELL HIM TO EXPECT MANY MORE!" The banked above the dying Nemesis.

Nathan nudged him. "Thundercracker," he said.

Frostfell growled in response.

"Grab him and help him to land," said Nathan. The Wendigo snarled and turned into a dive. Thundercracker was a good sized dragon, but Frostfell was huge. The White Devil seized the slowly falling Xolotl in his claws and his mighty wings beat the air as Frostfell tried to fly them both towards land.

[Dark Silver]

Once the Xolotl released the lighting bolt, he had dove. The technicolor nightmare did not pay attention to what happened after the bolt - he knew one way or another, that would be the last desperate attack he could make - then the fate of he and his crew would be decided in the next seconds after.

Roberts and Thundercracker looked ahead - not wanting to look back to see the beast that would surely come for them, ready to rend the lamed lighting-breather to shreds and slaughter the men, and thus did not see the results of the bolt - or the hail of heavy machine gun fire erupting from Frostfell.

The cheer went up from the gun crew who remained alive and able to move, as the Nemesis twisted and convulsed in the air - it's own poison splashing the Antichrist's own flesh - only for the insult to be compounded with injury as Frostfell's cannonfire laid the beast low.

Thundercracker risked a look back, as did his captain, to see the Nemesis crumple and fell to the sea - the Xolotl attempting to work his wings enough to arrest his own descent, and bring himself to some form of glide. The cheer was loud and even as the Great Northern Bastard approached, Roberts was sure Nathan and crew could hear it.

Moments later, Thundercracker was "safely" in the claws of Frostfell, and being guided to land.

[frigidmagi]

Kaltur storm turned on his own axis, his gunners tracking as fast as they could towards the red blur diving towards them. Machine guns barked to life one by one as the Bavarian dove, yet if any of them hit, they did so to no effect. Kunja was not the only lightweight capable of shielding his captain from the stings of the waspish projectiles. He twisted as he dove, preparing his wings for a strike, until his target opened its mouth and spewed forth a cloud of frozen condensation. What it was, how effective it might be, Albatros did not sit around to discover. He pulled in his wing and turned his dive into a loop, pulling out and away from Kaltur Sturm with nothing to show for the burst of cold but a light dusting of ice on the leather straps that held his wingblades in place.

Coming around again, keeping himself at arm's length from any more frost-related insanities, Albatros took a moment to consider his options, and then accelerated once more, aiming, so it appeared, for Kaltur Sturm's head.

If Albatros saw the other dragons rapidly approaching from the sea however, he gave no sign at all.

Kalter laboring to gain more height once again turned to face Albatros' dive and took a deep breath, prepared to unleash his breath weapon again once the light weight came within range. He stretched out his forearms if he could, he would grab Albatros and bring him close for a grapple where Kalter's greater weight and strength would tell.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Haakon noticed the Huge dragon roll to catch the Nimbus in her claws, and then turned about to follow the other dragons toward the secondary engagement at all speed. At this point, there was nothing more that could be done to help the english heavyweight, and if said Regal Copper could not defend herself with the Nimbus in her claws, she was not worthy of his assistance anyway.

[General Havoc]

Jebediah's challenge was not the loudest thing that had echoed across the Spanish plain, not in general and not even today, but it alone served to attract the attention of the dragon whose name was being called. In doing so, it inadvertently ruined Kaltur's chances of coming to grips with the famed Bavarian, for Albatros cancelled his dive before he could close to weapons range, preferring to risk losing the opportunity for attack in favor of analyzing the new situation. And what Albatros saw when he turned to look, plainly did not please him.

Three dragons, all so small that they could only be lightweights, were approaching at flank speed from the South-east. The head was a dragon that Albatros might well have recognized, the one who had cried the challenge, the hook-winged Smoke Devil. Of the other two, only one was identifiable at range, bearing the enormous flanged club, part dragon, part dinosaur, of the Northwestern Bonetail. It could therefore be inferred, whatever the remaining dragon might be, that it too was an allied beast, Courier or Combat lightweight, it mattered very little at this point.

Three lightweights were not exactly the most powerful of re-enforcements, but the fight, at present, was balanced on a knife's edge. Two German Midweights, heavy midweights, but midweights nonetheless, were squared off against an allied Mid and Special, with only a single lightweight on either side for support. This addition would ratchet the numbers of lights from even to 4:1 against Albatros, at least so long as his associate was hors-de-combat. This would, at the very least, extend the fight beyond that which was prudent, and at worst might invite defeat.

Albatros, as usual, took very little time to make his decision before keying his radio-mike.

"Alle Drachen, Schloss Kabelbäume und Rückzug."

One by one, the other German beasts lifted their heads and wordlessly moved out. The Swabian facing Franklin sheered off in mid-charge, passing the Typhon at extreme close range, putting on a burst of speed before coming about and withdrawing north at a rate of speed the Typhon could not hope to match in its wildest dreams. Albatros turned away from the Weyekin it had been dueling with, and moved on an intercept course for the Swabian. With a motion so easy that it could only have been practiced, the red-painted Speckled Bavarian landed atop the racing midweight, his captain dismounting and attaching carabineers from harness to harness. Bavarians were many things, but nothing save another racing dragon could match the top speed of a Lightning Bolt, and as Albatros crouched down on his back, the Lightning Bolt who now carried him put on every ounce of speed, withdrawing to the north at a rate that no dragon present could hope to make.

The other Swabian, who previously had been chasing Kunja, broke off as well, making for the other Bavarian at top speed, reaching down and snatching Dragon and Captain off the ground in one fluid action. Doing something like that without snapping the necks of all involved was a precarious process, yet the Swabian did so without hesitation, as simply as though picking up a grocery bag. And then both Swabians turned away to the north, pouring on the speed, and withdrawing into the limitless hills of southern Spain.

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

And speaking of dragons carrying one another...

Thundercracker was no lightweight, and barely capable of contributing to his own lift, but then Frostfell was no midweight, racing or otherwise, and capable of hefting quite a bit of weight. He could not carry Thundercracker indefinitely, nor with speed, but he could maintain sufficient grip and lift to guide the broken Xolotl back to base. Yet far below him, the dramas of the remaining combat were playing out on the water's edge.

The Nimbus attacking Luna had intended to breach and void its soldiers onto Luna's back, slaughtering the crew and capturing the captain. Several factors mitigated against this plan. One was the shower of grenades, which had killed, wounded, disabled, or at the very least stunned the majority of the men he was proposing to kill. The other was the British, who had regrouped faster than he had anticipated, confronting him with a larger force than anticipated. No quantity of riflemen could threaten a Nimbus, generally speaking, but just as he landed, the Copper began to roll over, proving that there was a third factor at work, and cementing his decision.

Close combat with a Regal Copper was a chancy thing, to say the least, and finding a Copper running over you by surprise was not a situation that most dragons relished. But if one had to be engaged in such a manner as a Nimbus, the middle of the Mediterranean Sea was not a terrible venue. Luna might have recovered enough wherewithal to fight, but her claws no longer had the strength they previously did, and when the Nimbus, leaping like a porpoise underwater, sought to tear itself free, it succeeded without too much trouble, darting off a hundred yards before Luna could stop it.

But having made its escape, the Nimbus showed no more stomach for a fight. Its crew was depleted, its support gone, and the Allies occupied the local airspace above. There was nothing more to be won here, or so the Nimbus judged. As such, with one final look back, the dragon turned and swam away, intending to put a dozen miles between itself and the allies before taking off and making its way home.

The battle was over.

[LadyTevar]

Jebediah stopped singing, and slowed his speed, but kept course for the Weyekin. "All-right, boys, fan out an' look fer wounded. Kunja's here som'wheres. We ain't catchin' 'em now."

Judith looked over the SmokeDevil's neck to catch his eye. "Som'how, I'm thinkin' you knew he'd bug out."

"Ah was hopin'," Jeb admitted. "Now get on th' horn n' find Kunja. Ah'm bettin' they ain't in shape ta fly much."

Judith nodded and keyed her mike. "Jebediah to all Allied Dragons. Germans in full retreat. Repeat, Germans Are Retreating to the North. All Allied dragons report in."

[JimmyTheCannon]

Jimmy breathed a sigh of relief as Albatros and the other Germans bugged out. He and Faustus certainly would've given it their all, but he wasn't sure at all that they were ready for such an opponent. The injured Bonetail slowed now that he had a moment to relax, his captain peering over his side at the slash he'd taken earlier.

"How're you doing, Faust?"

"That depends," the dragon answered calmly. "Do we have any more battles scheduled for today? I'd appreciate knowing in advance."

Jimmy snorted and patted the red dragon on the neck. "Funny guy. Let's see if anybody needs our help."

[dragnl0rd]

Fights never went the way they were described in training... and just this once, Marcus and Alacritas were grateful for it. No way in hell were they ready to fight that red devil... but that didn't mean there was nothing they could do, now that the fight was over.

"Just a bit more, lad... we've got to check for wounded..."

Alacritas peered back at his captain. "You mean aside from us?" The dragon let out a chuckle, cut short when the muscle spasms tugged at the puncture wounds on his chest.

Marcus couldn't help but laugh along with his dragon. "Yeah. These blokes saved our hides... it's the least we can do." He pulled out his binoculars once again as Alacritas moved forward ahead of the slowing bonetail. Now that combat wasn't apparently likely, it seemed some scouting was in order.

"I can see two dragons below us. One I can't recognize... the other a Victorian Reaper unless I miss my guess. I can see a third off to the west, but it's too far away to identify anything other than Midweight class."

[LadyTevar]

"D'ya say a Victor'an?" Jebediah said, his head and Judith's both jerking around to look at Alacritas. "Where?"

Even as the question was asked, Judith had the binoculars out and was frantically searching below, and found a long stripe of torn-up land leading to the dusky brown body of a grounded dragon. "Tha's not him, tha's a Barvarian," she snorted, even as she pointed it out to Jeb. "We gots a Pea-O-Dubbah som'one took out...."

"Foun' 'em." Jebediah stated, putting on another short burst of speed by diving down and off in the direction the second Swabian had appeared from before running. Judith sucked in her breath at the sight of the light-weight shaped like a Victorian Reaper. It was clear that someone got the worst in the fight ... but this time they didn't think it was the 'other guy'.

"Gibralter, this is Judith, we have wounded lightweights, ours and theirs. Send Medics an' carry-cars. Repeat, we have two wounded lightweights, and their captains. Send medics now."

Jebediah back-winged and touched down gently a short distance away, walking up slowly. "Kunja? Y'all look lik' south end o' a north-bound mule. An' don' try ta say th' other guy's worse, cause I saw 'em gettin' away."

[Charon]

Jake and Kunja sighed in relief as the enemy dragon peeled away from them. That had been way too close several times. Without much more ado, the duo landed again and Kunja idly rubbed at his chest and winced. "Ah, damnit. That might've broken a rib or two." The dragon snarled. "Fuckin' Middies."

Jake just leaned back in his seat and examined his coat, checking for bullet holes to see if it had really been as close as he'd thought it was. No bullet holes. That was a small comfort. As Judith and Jeb landed, the two looked over at them.

"Don't need another damn medic. I gotta go get my capture before he figures out which way is up and gets out of here. If he's still here, we can try and figure out what the hell those Germans were doing down here." Kunja spoke quickly.

With that, Kunja took to the air again, still painfully, but faring far better in truth than he usual seemed to end up when he was in a fight that was out of his league.

The dragon turned and started to head towards the farm where the fight had begun at his best speed, risking aggravating his injuries to get there a little faster. There was one last German in the area that was still within his reach, maybe, and he intended to get him.

[LadyTevar]

"Judith, ya shou' hav' yer mouth warshed out fer tha' language," Jebediah childed as he followed the stupid Aussies into the air. He had to admit Jake & Kunja deserved getting chewed out like that, but he didn't think the two had heard her. "Kunja, slow down, th' B'varian's o'er there, where he landed. Where th' hell are y'all goin'? Th' Swabian pick'd up that one afore he scatted"

[frigidmagi]

Kalter Sturm continued laboring up through the air to gain more height. This time to search.

"This is Captain Eisenhauer, on Kalter Sturm. Hostiles were chasing unknown Dragon and rider. I say again Hostiles were chasing unknown Dragon and rider. We are attempting to gain a visual. Kunja, do you have report on the unknown?" Theodore radioed to the squadron as they rose through the air.

"Keep your eyes peeled boys, around here somewhere there's a dragon that was fleeing the Nazis. An extra 2 beers to the guy who spots it first!" He called to the crew when he was done radioing.

Kalter for his part was quietly cursing in Greek with some German and Latin words surfacing. The Axis Dragons had escaped and they were on neutral verging on unfriendly soil. It wasn't a great day.

[JimmyTheCannon]

Faust and Jimmy were flying in slow circles while Judith and Jeb checked on Kunja and Jake. When Captain Eisenhauer's radio message came through, the captain urged his dragon up into the air, the pair joining the search for the unknown dragon. Faust was flying slower now, conserving his strength as the battle was over and he felt the pain of his injury more clearly.

"Any idea what this unknown looks like, Captain Eisenhaur?" They'd been late to this party, after all. Captain Cannon wanted to know what they were looking for.

[dragnl0rd]

The news of a second dragon being hunted by axis made marcus shudder a bit. Being the prey in a hunt was almost enough to put him off eating meat for a while... almost. It was also something he wouldn't wish on any but the most repugnant of people. "Alright mate, it looks like those jerries were chasing someone before everything went tits up."

The dragon sighed, and mirrored marcus' thought process. "What is it, open season on transferring dragons?"

"I wish I knew. Those Jerries headed north when they fled... it would make sense if they'd been chasing that unfortunate chap south, so that's where we should start." Putting action into words, he focused his gaze south and low through his binoculars.

"That's assuming the Nazis only have the one base worth mentioning." Alacritas banked into a thermal that would let him glide for a moment and steady his captain's gaze.

Captain Wainwright frowned at that thought. "It's the best idea I've got at the moment." A thought occurred to him that made him perk up. "Besides, we're not alone anymore."

"Hey that's right." Alacritas' stomach rumbled. "Gibraltar's also somewhat south of here, no? I can't wait for a decent meal."

Marcus laughed at that. "Well, try not to let your hunger show much. We're trying to find the bloke to render aid if necessary, not eat him. Best if we look the part so's not to scare him off, right?" Both dragon and rider went quiet as the description was requested over the radio.

[Cynical Cat]

Frostfell strained against the burden of Thundercracker. The Wendigo was strong, but carrying a combat loaded midweight in addition to his own mass was taking it's toll, on his temper as well as his strength. His wings ached as they beat the air as he tried to reach The Rock. He dug in his claws, just enough to hurt. "You fuck up like that again," the Wendigo snarled at the other dragon, "and I won't be around to catch you."

[Dark Silver]

Thundercracker wasn't sulking, but his pride had been hurt. Some of his crew was dead, and to make matters worse - he didn't get the killing blow on the Nemesis. The fact that the beast had outwitted it and then paralyzed a good portion of the technicolor'd nightmare's flying system with it's venom hosepipe, didn't mean much to his ego.

But Frostfell's words angered the beast, "Outweighted by ten tons, and without support against a crazed lizard, let's see how you do," the Xolotl spat back somewhat wounded - both frame and ego. Still, he could get over it, even as Roberts called up his thanks to Frostfell and his crew.

[Cynical Cat]

"Since it's currently sinking to the bottom of the Med riddled with shells from my guns," said Frostfell, "you have your answer. Now smarten up."

"Frostfell," said Nathan. "Enough."

"If we weren't busy bailing out his stupid carcass-" the Wendigo began.

"He made a mistake. He paid for it. He wasn't the only one. Let it go."

"As you wish," Frostfell snarled. "Fucking overcivilized dragons."

[General Havoc]

It didn't take long for Alacritas to find what he was looking for.

A mile and a half to the south of the battlefield lay a field of what had once been winter wheat, now smashed flat as though driven over by a steamroller. Great gouges had been carved in the earth where dragons had collided with one another or the ground at high speeds. And in the midst of the field sat a small dragon, so caked in dirt and blood that its coloration could not be determined. It lay on all fours on the ground, its captain standing by its head, patting it on the side of the neck and looking up as the Allied dragon flew overhead. Neither dragon nor captain made any apparent effort to get under cover, staring up at the Allied fliers, and waiting to see what would come.

A hundred yards away or so stood a large wooden barn with its side staved in where someone had driven a four ton dragon through it at high speeds. The barn's doors were open, indeed they'd been torn off their hinges, and from within it, farm animals blinked lazily out the door. Whatever had been in there when the fight moved north was plainly no longer.

And even as these things became apparent, the radios crackled to life.

"This is Captain Rankin on Æquitas. We're on our way with er... escort." What he meant by an escort was perhaps best not dwelt upon. "Try and corral the prisoners and prepare the wounded for transport back to Gibraltar. I'll handle the details with our hosts."

That last sentence sounded rather dubious.

[dragnl0rd]

"Over there!" Alacritas banked slightly towards the fallen dragon as he brought Marcus' attention to the right spot. Marcus took only a moment to take in the carnage before reaching for his radio.

"This is Captain Wainwright, we've found Captain Eisehauer's unknown lightweight approximately two and a half kilometers south of the main engagement site, but it doesn't look like they'll be going anywhere under their own power anytime soon. Requesting medical assistance." Marcus took his thumb off the button. "Alright, mate... circle until help arrives."

Alacritas descended some and settled into a wide circle around the apparently wounded dragon and rider so as to remain visible for others searching the area.

[Hawkwings]

"Ah, got it!"

Emily smiled in triumph as her repair efforts paid off. The waterlogged radio was working - for now - and with that they could call for help from their allies in the area.

"This is Captain Emily Hunt and the Regal Copper Luna, calling allied forces in the area. We are downed in the water and in need of assistance. We have wounded here, any fast transport to base for them would be greatly appreciated."

With that, she went back to fiddling with the radio receiver as the lookouts around her scanned the sky and water, wary for any hostiles still left in the area.

[Cynical Cat]

Frostfell dropped Thundercracker off at the beach, not quite as gently as might have been possible. The crew's vet and two assistants slid off the big dragon to render what assistance they could while the sea water would help wash away and dilute whatever poison remained. "Status on help?" Nathan asked.

"Two more vets already on there way from base," said his radio man. "Should be here shortly."

"Let's hope to Christ they are," Nathan murmured. The Nemesis was a virulent monster. Temporary muscle paralysis was one thing, but if the lungs or the heart stopped working then Thundercracker wouldn't see dawn. Nathan slid off of Frostfell and walked towards the wounded dragon.

He patted Thundercracker on the snout. "Hold on," he said softly. "We'll help you pull through this. More vets and equipment on the way. Just hold on."

[JimmyTheCannon]

Jimmy and Faust were searching a bit of a distance towards the west when Captain Wainwright's radio message came through, and the pair turned towards the south and east immediately, bearing towards where Alacritas circled. Before long the dragon and captain on the ground came into view.

"Captain Cannon here. We're going to land and see who they are and if they need help." Keying off the radio, he urged Faustus down, the Bonetail coming in for an easy landing a short distance from the downed dragon. Unbuckling himself from his dragon, James slid down, pulling his goggles off as he walked towards the pair. Faustus settled in where he was, taking the strain off his injury while he peered at the dirty, bloodied dragon.

For his part, Jimmy inspected the captain's uniform for identifying marks before speaking up. "Captain Cannon, USAF. I hope this is one of those 'the enemy of my enemy' moments, because you look like you could use some help."