His Majesty's Dragons: The Battle of Britain

[Charon]

Jake ignored her first comment as he poured another shot, his throat still burning death from the last ones he'd taken. After Judith mentioned his fight he took the shot and looked at her. "You didn't have to see it. Everyone heard it."

[LadyTevar]

"Funny... Ah thought ya skeer'd off one o' them Lyght'ning Bolts first," Judith answered, showing that gossip amongst the ranks spreads far. She reached out and grabbed the whiskey bottle and the glass out of his hand, pouring a much smaller shot for herself. "Bu' since yer wantin' ta drown yerself o'er yer mistake, Ah migh' swell join ya."

Drunken stupidity had her slam the whiskey back as Jake had, causing her eyes to bulge a little before coughing slightly. "Tha's... strong stuff..." she whispered, her throat burning.

[Charon]

Jake nodded as he stole the bottle and glass back. "S'not proper for a lady to have too much've this." Pouring one final shot Jake put the bottle away for now, knowing that in a few more minutes those shots were going to hit him like a brick wall. "Mostly we distracted the Swabian for Fulminatus to get him, then we finished the job enough to get it runnin'." Jake stopped long enough to gulp down his last shot, coughing again at the burning sensation. "Then we saw Godfrey was alone against a Aufseher, went up from behind. Did a steep loop to get the drop on him." Jake grinned some. "Godfrey released his breath just afore us so when we dropped on 'im Kunja an' I dropped through smoke and flame. Poor beastie never saw us comin'. Which I suppose was a part of the problem."

[LadyTevar]

"Ask Jeb, he'll tell ya Ah'm no lady," Judith quipped as Jake took his shot and put the bottle away. That Jake was getting a little of his braggardo back she thought that was a good sign, her hand back on his arm, squeezing gently. She could guess what happened. "Ah'm a-guessin' he moved on ya? So ya weren't hittin' 'em where ya planned..," she asked softly, no censure in her voice, just understanding.

[Charon]

Jake sighed. "Should'n have gone for a blind neck shot like we did. But yeah, it moved in a way we didn' expect it to. Came down right on the poor bastard's head. Least they both died quick..."

Jake placed a hand on Judith's and smiled slightly. "So how'd the rest of the team do?"

[LadyTevar]

"Th' Mal'kites caught tha' Per-russian, Jeb 'n Ah brought home tha' harness offen th' Affy-whasis ... an' we all came back," Judith answered, still patting his arm comfortingly. "Frostfell got jump'd by a ... Joe-ten...?" she obviously was not good with German names. "Sonnuva gun was up inna cloud, Jeb' an' Ah saw 'em jis' afore he could get th' drop on Frostfell an' gave a shout."

[Charon]

Jake whistled softly. "It's a damn good thing that Jotun didn't get involved earlier then. We might have been in trouble then." Jake looked at Judith. "How are you holding up? Was that your first fight?"

[LadyTevar]

Judith blushed a little, her free hand moving to rub the sling that held her left arm. "Well... yeah... tha' was the first real fight ... an' Ah din' even feel this 'til after. When Ah saw tha' Joe-ten lookin' at me, Ah though he fixin' ta et Jeb n' Ah in one bite."

[General Havoc]

Echoing the other threads:


Previously in "His Majesty's Dragons: The Battle of Britain"

Following their first engagement against a German raiding squadron over western Dorset, the dragons, crews, and captains of newly-formed RAF Tangmere have emerged victorious, with two confirmed draconic kills, and one capture, for the loss of none of their own, and with light casualties among the human crews, balanced against moderate or heavy losses for the Germans. The raid aborted and defeated, the Tangmere squadron has proven its capacity to fight individually...

But with the Luftwaffe outnumbering the RAF more than 2:1 in deployed dragons, even with barely half the German air force arrayed against them... individual bravery will not be enough.

What is needed is teamwork...

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

August 5th, 1940, 0951 hours GMT

"Come 'round again, and try another pass, and for God's sake try to hit the ground this time at least!"

The crewmen did not respond to Leftenant Tolliver's warning verbally, hastening to their posts as Æquitas came about to deliver another attack. It was the third hour of this exercise, and so far, Captain Rankin could only ascribe the fact that nobody had died in a mid-air collision to a direct intercession of Jesus Christ. They were performing standard A/D maneuvers, combined intra-squadron attack-and-defence operations, one of the cornerstones of British flight tactics. This exercise pitted the Heavyweights (including the near-heavyweights like Hermecritus) against everyone else. The goal was to train the lighter dragons how to attack larger opponents using cooperative tactics, while the Heavyweights learned how to ward off coordinated attacks by themselves. With the odds they were facing, it wouldn't be possible to simply sit back and use standard line-abreast formations to beat down the other squadrons. They would need everyone to be ready to take on things outside their classes.

Fortunately the heavyweights were stiffened a bit with the last-minute additions. In addition to Frostfell, there was that enormous Russian bastard that command had sent down here in a move that was either political suicide or political genius. There was the American mixed-breed, which wasn't truly a heavyweight, but came close enough to pass for one. There was even a full-blown Nebraskan Amberback that had showed up mid-fight several days before under the command of a marine. Rankin had ordered them to take up a box formation and to prepare to repel attacks from the balance of the squadron. The others were spread out in a loose cloud, and had been making pinprick strikes at the heavyweights for the better part of an hour, to nearly no effect whatsoever.

All the machine guns were armed with rubber bullets soaked in blue paint (though to be sure, the crews were all in helmets and flak jackets just in case of an unlucky shot. For bombs, the dragons carried sacks of flour, and Godfrey and Capricorn had been outfitted with harness-attachments filled with red dye to simulate their various special weapons, paper mache canisters for Capricorn, a hand-pumped fire hose for Godfrey. The dragons themselves had their claws sheathed with thick layers of bunting soaked in yet more paint (green, this time), such that they could strike one another without (much) risk of injury. He had worries about keeping Frostfell under control (to say nothing of Capricorn), but there was nothing for it. They had to get the training to work, or they would all die when the Germans made their next push. The paint rounds and dummy rigs weren't the most perfect simulacrums for the real thing (the first test with Godfrey's fire hose had ruptured the seals and sprayed red paint all over everything within a dozen yards), but they would do.

But getting a dozen dragons from half a dozen different countries, some of them without any military training whatsoever to work together was like herding cats... drunk cats... and Rankin's lack of experience in this regard was not helping. He had been trained to lead a dragon crew, and never in his life had he even imagined that he'd be in charge of a squadron, not with the admiralty looking for ways to strip Æquitas from him every ten minutes...

... well there was nothing for that. He too would have to adapt or die. It was only fair.

Accordingly, he had divided the squadron into two loose groups now, and ordered them to make a scissors attack on the lumbering heavyweight formation. Semmemnon was in the lead of the starboard wing, while he himself took the port. They would come in from above and execute a coordinated attack on the two rearmost heavyweights (Frostfell and Hermecritus. The other two would no doubt double back to aid their associates, but that was fine. This was all for the sake of testing out formations, seeing how to coordinate efforts, discovering optimum formations and angles of attack for each dragon, as well as to give the dragons and crews badly needed practice in the air. For every veteran like Semmemnon, they had one like Jebediah, who had never fought a real fight before this week.

The crew were brushing the flour off Æquitas' side where one of their "bombs" had been badly mistimed on the release and had struck him on the flank. He ordered the squadron to divide in two, allowing each dragon to choose which flank to take, and brought Æquitas around towards Hermecritus.

Perhaps they would learn something this time.

[Cynical Cat]

"This is stupid," grumbled Frostfell. "I'm not a bloody bombadier. I eat bombadiers. And my shoulder aches."

Nathan patted the big murderer on the neck. "This isn't for you, tough guy. It's for them. Christ, there greener than Granny Smiths. We kept three dragons off their back last fight, including a bloody Jotun. They did alright, but what happens next time? Things start going to bad and we'll keep it together, but without training and practice some of them might go to pieces. And then we'll be bloody fucked."

"I hate it when you're right."

"Look, I would prefer to be hip deep in opium and Chinese whores, but we have a job to do and, in theory, we might teach some of these johnnies enough to do their part and not get us killed. I'll make sure you have a good rub down at the end of this okay?"

Frostfell grumbled unintelligibly. "Okay," Nathan said to his crew. "We're going to try this again.

[LadyTevar]

Three hours of flying about and getting hit by rubber balls, paint, and buffeted about by larger dragon's wings. Three hours of getting yelled at for not getting things 'right'. Three hours of 'practice', with some of the dragons still wounded, and more than a few of the crew with hangovers. As well as a couple captains.

"How longs tha' blast'd man gonna keep us *up* here?" Judith exploded, luckily with her mike off. While dragons could stay aloft for eight hours, and sometimes more, that was simple flight. The full contact fighting they were doing was rapidly draining everyone's stamina. She absently rubbed her sore arm as she ranted. "Frostfell 'bout ground'd us with that tailslap!"

"Ah know, Judith..." Jebediah rumbled, stretching his wings to turn and glide into line with Æquitus, setting up for their half of the scissor attack on the heavyweight's square formation. His rear left leg ached from the impact of the White Bastard's tail. From the roaring he was hearing, he got the feeling Frostfell was just as annoyed as Judith over how long this was taking. "Ah'm sure it did your head no good eyther...," he added, knowing well she was hungover from the night before.

A low growl was her answer. "How long're ya gonna give me hell o'er that?" she muttered, knowing well he had a habit of reminding herself of her mistakes.

"Oh... 'bout as lon' as Ah'll be askin' 'bout that kiss Kunja an' Ah caught ya givin' Jake..." Jeb answered, one eye turning to catch the lovely shade of blush red Judith turned every time he brought that fact up. The Aussie captain had tried to leap a fence to impress her, and wound up landing in a cow patty. Musta been a fine jump, iffen she kiss'd him smellin' like that...

[Charon]

Jake was sore, he had a bad headache, and many of his wounds still burned like hell. The Aussie's flying had been eratic to say the least during practice. At times he would be flying with a practiced ease, keeping in formation and getting the attack runs down. Other times captain and dragon would break ranks during an attack run to try something daring, stupid, and near-suicidal. These got him cussed at hard by just about everyone, and 90% of the time his action led to him and his dragon 'dying' and the rest of the squadron being 'torn apart'. Finally, there were the times when both dragon and captain broke formation from an attack run, saying only that "They just couldn't do it."

As the formations came up again Kunja was in with Jeb, and it seemed clear that this time the Australian captain was in his zone. Dragon nor captain had yet to complain about the long practice times they had grown used to as barnstormers or the constant screaming that came their way.

Kunja was smirking as he flew. This time they were gonna get the huge bastards. "Jake, head in the game."

As the dragons closed in Jake glanced over at Judith and grinned, getting up on his saddle, Jake stood and blew an exaggerated kiss towards Judith, bowed, and then plopped back in his saddle as their formation got in gun range.

Kunja laughed at his captain's antics as he pitched sharply upwards and turned over, preparing his run to come down on the heavies "Here we come ya white bastard!"

[LadyTevar]

As if Judith wasn't blushing enough already, Jake waved her a very public kiss before heading into his attack. "Wha's the damn fool gonna try this time..," Judith muttered, her cheeks burning. His last stupid trick was one of the reasons Jeb got tailslapped. She just hoped he wasn't jumping the gun on this attack. "Wingman, Jeb... again....." she ordered, and the SmokeDevil once again slid into support formation off Kunja's left wing. At least that part of the endless training had taken.

[Cynical Cat]

Frostfell growled. "Since when is carrying a couple tons of flour and letting those little bastards take runs at me part of my job description." The Wendigo broke formation, winging up towards Kuja, jaws agape. "Be careful what you wish for little one," he roared.

[Charon]

Kunja stalled his descent as Frostfell came up to meet them and Jake looked. "He broke formation." rumbled the dragon softly

Jake nodded, hanging upside down on his dragon, hoping that the blood rush wouldn't hit him yet. "Think we can take him?"

Kunja paused in thought for a moment. "No, but we can get by him."

Jake grinned ferally under his scarf. "That sounds much better."

The barnstormer couple rolled back over with a practiced grace and Jake looked over to Judith and Jeb, flipping his mike on and making certain the frequency was on the one the lights were using to make certain the heavies couldn't overhear them.

"Judith, Jeb. Frostfell is comin' up to meet us. We're gonna let him get a bit closer and then dive on him in close formation, then split real quick before we get to the white bastard and dive past him and make our runs on the rest of the heavies. On my mark."

[LadyTevar]

Judith had noticed Frostfell had broken formation. Jake's idea had a little bit of merit to it... Frostfell would have problems turning back to catch up with them, although he -would- be able to after he got turned around. Until then, they had him out of formation where Æquitas and Sememnon could slice at him without the other heavies in the way, while she and Jake tried to get one of the other heavies to make the same mistake.

"Ah'll break left," she answered, acknowledging the plan. " 'Less ya've the dumb idear o' criss-crossin' 'gain...." If he did, at least he'd be warning her about it this time. "Which target... Lydia or Big Red?" She was still having trouble with the Crimson Angel's name, and stuck him with a short-form. If he was lucky, it'd not go around the convert like the nickname '(the) White Bastard' did. More people were calling Frostfell that than his real name.

[Dark Silver]

Thomas sat in the flight saddle, strapped in tightly in, carabiners ready to go in a moments notice if he had to get up. Three hours of basic flight patterns and training excercises were begining to wear even on the Air Force man and the dragon.

Still, his crew moved as efficiently as they could in the air, as if they had only been up for thirtyy minutes instead of three hours.

That they had been placed in the heavyweight formation was fine with the dragon and his captain. They were larger than most mediums, but faster than the heavyweights. And Hermeticus thought himself tougher than even Frostfell.

"I'm getting bored Thomas...the others aren't going to learn like this."

Thomas patted the dragon's neck, as Frostfell roared, and both turned their head. They watched as Kunja and and then Jeb broke down formation, and attacked, while Frostfell winged up to get at the Aussie.

"Hermeticus to Lydia, breaking formation to assist Frostfell." Thomas spoke the words clearly over the radio, even as Hermeticus winged wide and to the right, to come up behind Jebadiah in a bit of cloud cover and take the little lightweight down in one pass.

[Cynical Cat]

Frostfell roared in delight as Hermeticus broke formation to cover his wing. "Let's show the little ones to be careful what they wish for, eh?" said the Canadian dragon. On his back Nathan aimed the cluster of paint guns that simulated a quad 20mm mount to start firing on Kunja's wing root. "When formation's broken, the big ones just go from target to attacker," said Frostfell. Nathan pulled the trigger on the paint guns as Frostfell lunged towards the Australian.

[LadyTevar]

Judith opened her mike to Jake, wishing that her tommygun had as long a range as Frostfell's cannon. "Well... we broke th' formation lik' we're suppos'd ta, Jake," she radioed, seeing Hermeticus winging upwards straight at her. "Issit time ta break n' run yet?"

Jebediah, however, roared as he continued the dive, far slower than the rapid stoop that had taken two Jerrys by surprise. In the close formation, he didn't have the altitude to get that rush of speed, which would easily overrun his wingman. As back in America, the standard formation training did not play to a SmokeDevil's strengths and only emphasized the belief that a SmokeDevil was no good at warfare.

[Charon]

Kunja kept his eyes down on Frostfell and the rest of the heavies and saw Hermeticus break off. "Jake, the Aborigonee just broke formation."

"Still weird not seeming them on Dreamers" mumbled Jake before responding. "Probably comin' up to assist Frostfell. Alright do you still see him?"

"Yep, coming right at us."

"Hell," Jake got on his radio even as Frostfell closed the gap at a frightening speed. "Rankin, both our targets have split from the formation. I say we all nail the remaining pair and bring them down while the other two are tryin' to catch us."

As Frostfell closed on the pair Jake waited. He knew how dragons flew, he knew how fast they were and what they could handle, probably almost as well as Rankin or Nathan. When Frostfell had little choice but to commit completely to his upwards attack run Jake gave his signal to Judith.

Both lighter dragons turned on the speed again and shot forward. Jake's heart was thundering with joy as the pair of dragons reached the top of the loop and began to plummet directly towards Frostfell, bellies turned to best protect their captains from fire. For a few seconds it looked like the pair was playing chicken with the much larger dragon. "In 3, 2, 1." Jake spoke into his radio, his voice giving away his thrill, then the two seperated sharply, Judith to the left and Jake to the right, to give Frostfell a wide berth to pass between them and shot down towards the remaining heavies. If they managed to pass by unmolested Kunja brought his tail up and curled it some slowing his descent some, but serving to protect his captain from fire coming from behind.

[Dark Silver]

Hermeticus only grinned to himself, as only a dragon could, at Frostfell's roar, just before disappearing into the cloud bank.

Both Captain and Dragon, as well as their sight-man, kept a guage on where the Smoke Devil had been flying, and the speed. While the Longhorn wasn't as agile as the Smoke Devil, his wingspan and strength allowed him to get speed on the climb. When Thomas had guesstimated the two would cross paths, the Reaper dove forward through the clouds, intending to come up behind Jeb - all hands kept eyes out just incase.

The crew wasn't waiting though, they had guns sweeping, the mounted machien gun and the single heavy-lobber 20mm sweeping their arcs. Thomas had his own rifle in hand, waiting to get a good shot.

With the break in the clouds, Hermeticus roared in delight and ferocity. The roar was one of spite and anger and battlelust.

And when he spotted his prey, the Dragon's entire bulk was launched at the smaller dragon.

[Cynical Cat]

"Please," said Nathan, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've never seen this trick before." Paint rounds struck Kunja's wing and flank. Not too many, but the paint guns didn't shoot like real 20s and he had to compensate. Frostfell winged over as the smaller dragon came passed, folded his wings, and let gravity pull him down like an arrow. Frostfell was fast for his size and his size was a small heavy and he was fearless enough to make maneuvers of questionable safety in order to squeeze out that extra edge. Nathan lead Kunja's wing edge with the paint guns and hit the smaller dragon several more times.

"He's done," said Nathan. It wouldn't be enough to kill Kunja, or probably enough to even bring him down, but it would have hurt him and slowed him enough to be easy meat for the heavies and their guns. The war game might not register that, but fuck the Limeys and their "colonial" bullshit. "The other." Frostfell extended his wings to alter course and close in on Jebediah and Judith.

[Agent Fisher]

Godfrey and Jack looked down on the battle from high above. Looking back over his shoulder, Jack made sure the sun was at their back.

The Spitfire and his Captain had spotted the American breaking form the clouds behind the Aussie. Jack reached for the pump of the fire hose, and yelled into Godfrey's ear.

"Dive on them!"

The great war ace dragon nodded and soon rolled over to his right, wings twisting and then flapping. Now the dragon and captain were in a high angle dive, the high speed wind buffeting Godfrey and Jack. As their speed increased, the range to Hermeticus decreasing rapidly. Still the Spitfire kept coming, straight out of the sun, like he had done to many dragons before. And then Jack was in range and began pumping, red dye spraying out down towards Hermeticus and crew.

[Dark Silver]

Unfortunatly for the Spitfire, diving from the sun was a old trick, and while Hermeticus and his captain where only in service for a couple of years, they weren't inexperienced.

As Godfrey rushed the Longhorn, one of the lookouts managed to see the growing spot in the sun, rushing at them. Rifles and the 20mm rose up in answer, and while the dragon flew and the red dye sprayed, a round of paintballs were unleashed.

With the round of gunfire unleashed, Hermeticus brought his wings in, and dove, dropping thirty feet, then winging himself back up in a curve, to come up behind.

But still, some of the dye landed on his back, in splattered drops.

"I'm going to gut the Spitfire...." Hermeticus growled out, before beating his wings hard to catch up.

[Agent Fisher]

Godfrey continued the dive, Jack looking back to see the Longhorn Reaper coming after him. Godfrey jinked left and right, keeping the majority of the hits off him. But still his rear and sides had a smattering of paint marks. The spitfire used his speed to climb again, gaining precious altitude. He passed the altitude of the Longhorn and kept climbing, his airspeed slowly starting to bleed off.

"Clouds, 2 O'clock." Yelled Jack. Godfrey leveled off and beat hard for the cloud bank.