His Majesty's Dragons: The Battle of Britain

[General Havoc]

Æquitas literally could not believe what he had just heard. There was however absolutely nothing for it. He had to ensure that Frostfell would obey orders in the air, Captain or not. It was in fact very important to discuss tactics, but it was more important to clear one thing up.

"Frostfell, may I have a word with you in private for a moment?"

[Cynical Cat]

"Yes, of course. If you really want it to be private, we should take to the air." Frostfell turned to the rest of the dragons. "For those of you new to the military, this is what being called to the carpet is like. Tally ho chaps."

[General Havoc]

It was not up to Frostfell to set the conditions of the meeting, but propriety could afford to relax for this one time. This was the squadron's only heavyweight, so transfer really wasn't an option, and Æquitas doubted seriously that the Wendigo was actually half as much a fool as the American Reaper had said. All dragons saw the need to brag before combat. But still, he absolutely could not have this one shirking his responsabilities. Of course the captain would deal with part of that, but he needed to assist as best he could.

He leapt into the air after Frostfell and waited until he was well out of earshot of the others before beating his wings hard to pull ahead of the Wendigo. Neither of them could hover, but both could turn lazy circles around the air base.

"Frostfell, you are our only Heavyweight," said Æquitas plainly. "You outmass the second largest one of us by two to one. You're a combat veteran with kills to your name. If the Germans come over here, hell, when they come over, you will be our best defence against the Kampfritters, to say nothing of the other horrors the Bosche can mount against us."

He pumped his wings and flew around to the other side of the giant Wendigo. "And yet if I can't count on you obeying orders in the air, then you're of absolutely no value to us whatsoever, no matter how many dragons you defeat or even kill. You asked that Venomspitter down there to trust that you would protect him in combat. I can't even trust that you'll obey a simple command to leave that damned American Reaper alone. So what are we to do about that, do you think?"

[Cynical Cat]

"The Reaper came to me, not the other way around," said Frostfell. "I will allow that I have a certain. . . oh lets call it willful insubordinance. Lets chalk that up to special operations background. You don't have to worry about me in the sky, not because any of you are inclined to trust the evil Wendigo, but because my captain didn't go from '14 to '17 by abandoning his squadron.

"What you need to worry about is the green boys. The yanks that haven't seen combat and don't know to even carry a bloody rigging knife. They need to be toughened up yesterday and I don't even bloody well have an idea how to deal with Capricorn, he looks as emotionally durable as a glass vase in a hurricane. I'm not your problem, I'm your solution. Reynolds and I can't play nice officer. We're not equipped for that job. So we make it easy for you. We're the nasty officer and you and your rider are the good one and between us if we are lucky we can get them halfway to fighting shape before we have to fight the Jerries. Now, does that seem good to you?"

[General Havoc]

"You're not in special operations anymore," said Æquitas in a reasoned tone. "You're in a frontline squadron now, and I cannot have you or your captain running off to find adventure and kill the jerries and leaving a flank exposed. It's easy enough for an inexperienced dragon to do that, to say nothing of a 'willfully insubordinate' one. If you want to serve as an example to the less experienced members of this squadron, then you yourself have to present an example worth emulating. That does not involve snapping at the lightweights or mouthing off to superior officers, dragon or human. It also does not fill me with confidence when you ignore orders, even ones you think stupid or officious. Whether or not you think me an idiot, you must do as I say when we are not in-harness, and what Michael and your captain say when we are, without question, without insult, and without comprimising on it. If you can't do that, then you and your Captain will both wind up in some useless posting in Belfast or Greenland or some other damn place, and then we will have no heavyweights at all and the Germans will fly right through us. Nobody wants that."

He tried to adopt the most reasonable tone he could. Michael and the Wendigo's captain seemed to have gotten off fairly well, and it would not do to bring this to his attention.

"The American Reaper is not the question here. He's a bitter old warhorse that the Air Admiralty sent to us in the hopes that he would finally get himself killed and do some damage to the Germans while he was at it. The others are green perhaps, but some of them are manifestly not. Semmemnon has three times the experience of you and I combined, and Godfrey has already distinguished himself twiceover at least in this war. The Victorian, the Bonetail and the West Virginian are new, yes, but what they need is real, practical help, not some cock-and-bull story about Kampfritters and Stukas. I've been in this sort of business long enough to know that if your squadron-mate doesn't know to keep a bayonet or a trench spite strapped to his neck, then you tell him to do it and why. You don't tell him he's destined to get himself and his Captain killed, or else that's exactly what he will go and do. I've seen it a dozen times at least. And as to Capricorn, he's a Venomspitter. You cannot do anything with or for them. His Captain will have to see to him, and it will be our job to ensure he does not get himself killed, because his venom may be the only way of stopping some of the monsters we are called upon to fight."

"This squadron doesn't need a good officer and a bad officer. They need help. You can help them, perhaps, but if you're going to do that, you absolutely have to stop feuding with whatever dragon comes your way and twists your tail. This means that even if he tries to bait you again, you have to leave Fulminatus be. Ignore him completely if you wish, but do not get into shouting matches with him and do not ever ignore me when I tell you to stop. He has his own issues which I will deal with if I can, and I suspect your breed has something to do with it, but I don't know. Until I can find out, I am obliged to order you to leave him alone, and him you. I am also obliged to order you to stop filling the Lightweight's heads with the idea that they've no chance at all. These prophecies have a way of becoming self-fulfilling. And I'm sure you don't agree with me Frostfell, but you must obey in any event."

"Now can I count on you to do that? Or must I spent the rest of my tour here wondering about whether or not you are going to disobey orders at any given moment? You don't have to like the orders, or even pretend that you do, but you do have to follow them."

[LadyTevar]

Jeb nudged Judith towards the mess hall after Jake. "Go eat, Ah've had my supper." Judith scratched the old dragon between the eyes and did as she was told, slipping inside and taking up a metal food tray. She eyed the food with concern, not recognizing half of it, and afraid to ask what some of it was after her experience with American Military cuisine.

"Umm... som' o that... and tha', and those veggies, please?" she asked politely. Like Jake, she too hestitated over a small table, before coming over and sitting across and one seat down at the large table Jake had chosen. Directly beside him, or straight across from him, would have been a might too intimate for first meeting. She cut into the mystery meat in silence, and was pleasantly surprised to find it was liver. "Better n' wha' they served onna way o'er here," she said, trying to make polite conversation.

---
Jebediah had wisely chosen to avoid the field and the argument within. As the two larger dragons rose skywards for what he assumed was going to be a private fight, Jeb moseyed over towards Sememnon and Godfrey. "Ah coul' hear th' fightin' from th' mess tent," he drawled, cocking his head up at the two flying in circles above. "He sounds as bigga jackass as tha' damn'd Emerald Ah was stuck with." Now that Judith wasn't around, Jebediah could let his feelings out. "Ah'm a-wonderin' if we'll hav' th' time ta even start learnin' ta fight t'gether afore th' Germans get here."

[Cynical Cat]

"You know nothing of special operations if you think we don't work together," said Frostfell. "This is war. It is far better that I toughen them up now than they crack up in combat. If you want me to play nice, fine. That's just one in a string of bad calls.

"You and your captain are pissing away your authority with a vengeance. That stupid stunt with the revolver. He should have never even touched his gun instead of relying on his own authority. You continuing idiocy with threatening me with transfers you can't accomplish. The best you can do is bounce me from the squadron, not the front lines and certainly not to Bermuda. Stop it."

"As for Capricorn, he's not bloody ready but he's going to be up there with me anyway. That's a problem for all of us and the first damn thing he needs to know is that he has back up, even if he can't see it so he doesn't panic when the first Jerry takes a run at him. That much I can and will do."

[Charon]

Kunja glared dourly at Aequitas, and if not for the problems it would have caused would have jumped on the arrogant bastard then and there. He'd see how useless a 'colonial' was, when a native breed was holding a clawed paw to his throat... Fulminatus he could respect, to an extent the same could be said of the arrogant Frostfell. Aequitas however, had managed to lose what respect the Aussie dragon had had for him.

Kunja looked over at Jeb, stalking over to the group of who was left. "Dragon politics, all the old warriors are testing each other, see who the top dragon is. The sooner they figure it out the better for all of us." Kunja glanced up at the two dragons that were flying around in circles. Then the relatively young dragon looked at the others. "Do any of you have experience in war?"

[frigidmagi]

"Are we there yet?" Came the question, the voice asking it was somewhat feminine but a bit deeper then one would expect. Then again one also expects a dragon to have a deeper voice then men. The speaker was Lydia, a massive, amber colored example of female dragonhood.

"Almost," Paul said patting her neck. She craned around so she could face.

"I don't mean to offend but I am really hungry, damned hungry. The food on ship did not taste right, it was fucking icky even." She said.

"I can promise that the Brits will feed you better, just watch where we're going would you!" Paul nearly shouted.

"Just because you're afraid of flying... I don't see why you haven't gotten sick in over a year! Although it was really funny when you got sick on the Admiral, are you gonna do it again?" Lydia asked.

"NO! EYES FRONT!" Paul bellowed. Lydia grumbled at that but followed the command. Snickers could be heard from the crew.

"What's that? Y'all want more drill you say?" Paul asked cutting the snickers off. He caught sight of the covert, a damn dirt patch really. Lydia veered toward it without needing instruction. They done it this before, all to often really.

A 40 ton, 100 foot long dragon does not land without disturbing the landsite a mite. Still Lydia managed it better then some heavyweights did to Paul's pride. Say what you would but no one could fault her flying.

He dismounted, well climbed down really and she nosed him, pressing her snout to his chest as he patted and petted her head.

"Okay boys! I want all the gear off of her and stowed ready for quick deployment. Nazis are rude bastards they don't ask before coming to call. Once that's done grab some chow, I'll find out where we're suppose to be sleeping in this rat heap." He called.

"Once they are done can I eat?" Lydia asked.

"Just don't gorge yourself so bad you can't fly. We're back in Mex-country dear. I'll be back soon as I can gotta find the poor sod they stuck us with this time." Paul said letting her go and stepping off. Lydia stood paitently while her crew removed her gear.

Paul looked around the rather sad looking base. Now if I was a Brit Dragon officer where would I be? He asked himself.

[General Havoc]

Æquitas sighed and shook his head sadly. Perhaps it was true what they said of Wendigo after all...

"You just don't get it, do you? You're not toughening anyone up. You're being a bully and a coward, and I will have none of that in a squadron I am given responsibility for, no matter how green the other dragons in it are. You are not trying to make them ready, you are trying to make them afraid of you, and to be frank, they have enough to be afraid of already without some juvenile idiocy about 'toughening them up'. It is an excuse, and you know it, and I do, and so do they. We have one day at most, maybe two of we are spectacularly lucky before the Germans come for us. This is not a boot camp. This is a war. The time for toughening them up is long past. They are your squadron-mates, and you will not treat them like your own personal adjutants or your hatchlings, especially not when half of them are far more experienced than you."

"Your Captain struck another dragon's Captain, and then pulled a knife on him in front of his dragon. Were this another branch of the service he would be beaten from this squadron no matter how dire our need. If Michael had not pulled his revolver, how was he to know that Reynolds would not have attacked him with the knife? And what if Waldwanderer had leaped to the defense of his captain, as I expected he would? Would you have killed them both for the sake of toughening up the rest? Am I to trust that you would not have when neither you nor your captain think anything of flaunting authority at every turn and attacking your squadron-mates with weapons? This is not training, this is abuse of size and privilege, and your justifications for it make it all the worse. I would sooner 'piss away' my authority than behave so, and I don't care if you think that makes me weak, for I did not survive the Great War by making enemies of every member of my squadron smaller than I."

Æquitas laughed as the dragon triumphantly announced that he was bluffing in regards to the transfers. "Are you actually so naive that you think that the Admiralty would not send you away just because you are a heavyweight? Michael and I spent almost all of our careers as far away from combat as possible because the Admiralty did not approve of Michael's ancestry, nor in my having selected him as Captain. I know Parnassians of greater experience and age than you grounded for far less than insubordination, yes, even in the middle of a war. By god, we have it easy. The Germans simply execute beasts that behave so on their side, or throw them into prisons or worse. I would not be here at all but for the fact that a Vice-Admiral of the RAF took it upon himself to advance Michael's case to the Defense Ministry. Do you have a Vice-admiral you can call upon to put you back in the front lines, because I assure you, Bermuda is hardly the worst place that they can and will send you, though I suppose as a Wendigo, you would not consider Newfoundland or Iceland to be as bad as I did."

"And as to Capricorn, you may not know it, but all Venomspitters are like that, be they eighty-year combat veterans or hatched new from the shell. Neither you nor I have any idea how he will bear up in combat, nor for that matter how any of the other lightweights will. Perhaps they will crack up, but treating them like your enemy will not prevent that, nor will disobeying orders. All, I assure you, all that will do, is get you and your Captain sent back to Canada, if indeed you are still welcome there. And you had better believe it possible, because I spent ten years in one penal assignment after another for far less."

"So what is your game here Frostfell, because I was not hatched yesterday, and I know that you're not trying to 'toughen' anyone up. You're trying to abate your own fear, or at least I hope that's what you're trying to do. I'd hate to find out that the rumors about Wendigo are true...

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

Fulminatus lifted his head as a truly massive dragon flew overhead and landed in the covert and began to disgorge a small army of crew and a mountain of gear. He raised one eyelid softly. A Nebraskan Amberback? What was one of those doing all the way out here? The United States was not at war with Germany, and it was uncommon for a heavyweight to be sent out were that not the case.

"The Captains are all in that shed over there," called out Fulminatus to the American captain, who appeared to be looking around for something. "I think it's what passes for a mess tent."

He glanced up at the Amberback as he slowly stood up. "Don't see many of your type out this way. Volunteer from America?"

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

"No," said Capricorn to Kunja's question, but his voice was completely unconcerned, in fact he seemed more interested in the field mouse scurrying over the grass that lined the clearing floor than in the fact that he was about to engage a horde of German combat dragons, if indeed he even appreciated that fact. Venomspitters were not the sharpest tools in the shed, even at the best of times.

He looked back and forth lazily between Semmemnon, Godfrey, Jeb, and Kunja, before a wind puff and a shadow indicated that another dragon was landing. By the time Capricorn had turned around his eyes were wide as he beheld the gigantic form of the Nebraskan Amberback.

"... she's big."

[frigidmagi]

"The Captains are all in that shed over there," called out Fulminatus to the American captain, who appeared to be looking around for something. "I think it's what passes for a mess tent."

"Ah, Thanks a lot." Paul said and headed into the mess tent. It was a bit crowded. Ah well best try the direct appoarch.

"Howdy! Who's the CO?" He called.

He glanced up at the Amberback as he slowly stood up. "Don't see many of your type out this way. Volunteer from America?"

Lydia snorted at that as the crew got the last piece of the harness off of her.

"More like volun-fucking-told! My name is Lydia, what is yours if I may ask?" She said stretching and eying the remaining cows. She began to pad over, this could be decent meal after all.

[Cynical Cat]

"How very fortunate for you that you are wrong about me and my captain," said Frostfell. "I see any attempt to educate you to the contrary will fall on deaf ears. Have you finished insulting my character so I can go down there and play meek and chastised dragon so we can start repairing the damage your captain did to his authority or do you want to call me a coward one more time? Sir."

[LadyTevar]

"No," said Capricorn to Kunja's question, but his voice was completely unconcerned, in fact he seemed more interested in the field mouse scurrying over the grass that lined the clearing floor than in the fact that he was about to engage a horde of German combat dragons, if indeed he even appreciated that fact. Venomspitters were not the sharpest tools in the shed, even at the best of times.

He looked back and forth lazily between Semmemnon, Godfrey, Jeb, and Kunja, before a wind puff and a shadow indicated that another dragon was landing. By the time Capricorn had turned around his eyes were wide as he beheld the gigantic form of the Nebraskan Amberback.

"... she's big."

Jeb almost wished he could whistle. The landing dragon was not just huge, but strikingly colored in amber, wheat, and golden white. "Now -there's- a righ' pretty gal."

"More like volun-fucking-told! My name is Lydia, what is yours if I may ask?" She said stretching and eying the remaining cows. She began to pad over, this could be decent meal after all.

Blink. Blink-a-blink.
"som'one weren' a-mindin' their Ps&Qs when she was a'hatchin'," Jeb said, shaking his head at the language. "Maw McClung'd be warshin' her mouth out fer talkin' like that."

[General Havoc]

"I sincerely hope that I am wrong about both you and your captain, Frostfell," said Æquitas. "You come very highly spoken of as a combatant, and without your assistance, it is even more likely that we are all going to die. I am pleading with you not to make it necessary to take that level of a risk."

"Indeed, we're done here. Go and finish eating if you haven't yet, and then standby for whatever orders we receive once the Captains are through conversing. And if I were you, I would leave your Captain out of this entirely, but that's a matter you'll have to decide for yourself."

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

"I'm called Fulminatus," said the American Reaper, who appeared not to notice the swearing. "And those cows over there are for the squadron, near as I can tell. What do you mean by told? Don't tell me they chased you out of the States to go make trouble for the Nazis?" He chuckled darkly. "And here I thought I was the only one to earn that treatment..."

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

Capricorn looked a bit puzzled and turned to the West Virginian dragon as he commented. "My Captain washes my mouth out sometimes," he said. "He wears big gloves when he does it."

This apparently passed for wisdom.

He blinked a couple of times at Jeb after he finished talking. "You sound funny," he added finally.

[LadyTevar]

Capricorn looked a bit puzzled and turned to the West Virginian dragon as he commented. "My Captain washes my mouth out sometimes," he said. "He wears big gloves when he does it."

This apparently passed for wisdom.

He blinked a couple of times at Jeb after he finished talking. "You sound funny," he added finally.

Jeb was a lot brighter than Cap, and he'd helped raise Judith and her 5 brothers and sisters. Dealing with a child (or child-like mind) was somewhat second nature by now.
"You soun' funny ta me, too. It's 'cause o' where Ah'm from," he explained patiently to the Aussie dragon. "An' wha' Ah said about warshin' out mouths ... it's a sayin' from back home, and don't mean nothin' like wha' yer Captain does."

Of course, Jeb rememebered Maw McClung not only warshin out his Jack's mouth, but threatening Jeb himself with a mop and a bucket if he ever repeated those words in her hearing. Maw McClung had been a right scary woman when she had the need. Judith was a lot like her.

[General Havoc]

"Oh," said Capricorn, giving no indication he had understood. "Where're you from?" he asked a moment later, "Queensland?"

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

Captain Rankin turned his head as another man in an American's uniform walked into the mess hall. "I'm the Commanding Officer," he said as he stood up and turned to the man. "Captain Michael Rankin, on Æquitas, Squadron Commander, at your service. And you are...?"

[Charon]

Kunja looked at the big dragon. What was it that Jake had called those in his studies? It was a... Amberback, that's right. Mighty big dragon, something they needed. The dragon seemed a bit taken back when the dragon swore though, apparently, this one wasn't as wholesome and 'cuddly' as other Amberbacks.

"No Cap, he's from the other big continent. The Americas. They all talk funny there." Kunja grinned at Cap.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jake glanced up from his plate to smile at Judith, before the door openned and another man walked in, from the looks of him, and the accent, another damn American. "And people say that America isn't involved yet? Are we sure? Half this fuckin' squadron is from across the Atlantic!"

[LadyTevar]

"Oh," said Capricorn, giving no indication he had understood. "Where're you from?" he asked a moment later, "Queensland?"

Jeb shook his head, having never heard of Queensland. "Ah'm from America," he said, keeping it simple for the simple dragon. "Where're you from?"

[SirNitram]

Semmemnon paid most of his attention to the two in the air. He had seen enough conflicts in new squadrons to have a decent grasp of what was going on up there. The Heavy and the headman's Dragon weren't going to resolve this sensibly and get what was needed done. Egos again.

The Malachite strode towards the other dragons.. Now paying attention to an even bigger Heavyweight, apparently another signup. The Malachite Reaper cleared his throats. "Squadronmates. I am afraid the time for proper training will not be upon us. So I would ask that all of those who have never flown combat please step forward, so the veterans may pair up with you. I have found that having a mentor can alleviate the worst situations. And furthermore.. I will personally fight the next scales-for-brains who starts insulting those who have come from beyond the Isle. I served for sixty years in the Colonies of the British Empire, and dragons and riders alike have always fought well, regardless of where they were bred."

It was something of a gamble. Semmemnon had seniority but little else, but someone had to start getting things organized.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Walwanderer stepped forward as requested, but did not keep his eyes off the huge female American Amberback. Absolutely gorgeous that one, and probably WAY out of his league... and size class for that matter.

he had never seen combat. A lot of things that somewhat resembled combat, like getting way too close to wild dragons while doing research and having to defend himself and Richard and escape, but not actual battle.

...

Richard took note of the other american who just walked into the room, and judged from the loud thump that happened when he landed that he was on a heavyweight. But that didnt make any sense, unless he was military, heavyweights were a bit hard to come by if one is a private individual. What did he do? Steal an egg? No, he had to be military, which could mean that the US declared war while he was in transit. Oh well, he was sure there was quite the story to be heard there. In any case, with the conversation he had been having interrupted for who knows how long, Richard sat down near Judith and the aussie

[LadyTevar]

Jeb took his eyes off the Amberback, looking over to Sememnon. " 'Bout time one o' ya got yer act t'gether," the SmokeDevil said, taking his own step out to the fore. "Ah've fought ferals, Ah've fought baer... but as th' sayin' goes, Ah've ne'er seen th' elephant."

[LadyTevar]

Jake glanced up from his plate to smile at Judith, before the door openned and another man walked in, from the looks of him, and the accent, another damn American. "And people say that America isn't involved yet? Are we sure? Half this fuckin' squadron is from across the Atlantic!"

"Shush now," Judith said with a sly smile. "We're s'posed ta be yer secret weapons."

[Comrade Tortoise]

"Hah" Richard laughed. "Weapon yes, secret, hardly..." Richard said with a smile. "And was that a heavyweight I just heard land?"

[frigidmagi]

Captain Rankin turned his head as another man in an American's uniform walked into the mess hall. "I'm the Commanding Officer," he said as he stood up and turned to the man. "Captain Michael Rankin, on Æquitas, Squadron Commander, at your service. And you are...?"

At that Paul snapped to attention and saluted.

"Sir! Captain Paul MacGrif on Lydia Sir! My orders." Paul said handing over a manila folder with his orders with his left hand after cutting his salute.

"I'm called Fulminatus," said the American Reaper, who appeared not to notice the swearing. "And those cows over there are for the squadron, near as I can tell. What do you mean by told? Don't tell me they chased you out of the States to go make trouble for the Nazis?" He chuckled darkly. "And here I thought I was the only one to earn that treatment..."

Lydia ambled on over to the cattle and killed a fat one, sitting up on her haunches she started eating it. It was a good start to dinner. Between bites (never speaking with her mouth full that was rude) she related the story.

"We got a little rough over in California and upset some ass of a CO. Called me a bitch and a ruined dragon! The nerve of that bastard! Well Paul, that's my captain by the way, punched him and kicked him a few times when he fell down. The MPs tried to beat up Paul and I didn't like that. Don't know what the fucking fuss was about I didn't hurt them, just picked them up and anyways here we are!" She said grabbing another cow.

[Comrade Tortoise]

Jeb took his eyes off the Amberback, looking over to Sememnon. " 'Bout time one o' ya got yer act t'gether," the SmokeDevil said, taking his own step out to the fore. "Ah've fought ferals, Ah've fought baer... but as th' sayin' goes, Ah've ne'er seen th' elephant."

"Indeed. I as well have done many things that are close to combat, but never the sort that I expect to see here..."