His Majesty's Dragons: The Battle of Britain

[General Havoc]

It was clear from his expression that the Luftwaffe officer did not understand Judith, but even considering that, he seemed to stumble for words for a moment, as though trying to think of something to say, before all of a sudden, Colonel Lorenz suddenly exploded.

"Dies ist absolut inakzeptabel! Die Shutzstaffel nicht tolerieren Einmischung in die Ausübung seiner Feinde!"

The SS officer was livid, shouting loud enough to drown out the echoes in the warehouse. The dragon did not seem intent on backing down, but stared the officer in the eye with a cold gaze.

"Es handelt sich um Kriegsgefangene. Die Luftwaffe ihnen gefangen genommen, und hat Autorität über ihr Schicksal."

"Die Mittelgewicht wurde eingefangen von der drakenflug-SS!"

"Im Gegensatz zu Bestellungen, die zur Unterstützung der Haupt-Attacke. Soll ich den Ring hoch Befehl und bitten sie, hat Behörde hier?"

The dragon and the human continued to argue with one another, as the young man in the Luftwaffe uniform watched, and slowly, on the side of the room, unnoticed by any besides his guards, Fulminatus began to stir.

The enormous (comparatively) dragon moaned softly and began to open its eyes, blinking a few times in the dim light, then lifting its head. The thick chains laid around its neck and legs rattled as it blinked a few times, shook its head, and then finally managed to focus its eyes on Jebediah, Judith, and the Germans about.

"Sonofa..."

Fulminatus lunged forward towards the Germans, only to be arrested a foot or so later by the chains, which slammed him to a stop and sent him crashing back to the ground. Neither Lorenz nor the Bavarian started, but both stopped momentarily and glanced at the American Reaper, which was shaking itself back to life once again, blood still running in soft pulses down its flanks and wings.

"You... you two all right?" asked Fulminatus finally in a low tone, growling as he tested the limits of his restraints. The Germans had resumed arguing, albeit in a lower tone, and for the moment seemed to be paying the Americans very little mind, cages, chains, and armed guards notwithstanding.

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

Rankin took one look at the worn out form of Captain Braithwaite, and nodded, returning his salute briskly. "We've a chance to redeem it, Captain. The medics are seeing to your men I presume, and we'll have them look to Veritas as well. All we need is for him to be able to make it into the air and stay there for a few hours. No call for heavy fighting, not if this works. Just a shuttle run."

He turned back to the map with the other captains and the Lightweight. "Sneaking in will be all but impossible. The Germans have radar, just as we do, and they'll have left a combat air patrol behind in reserve, just to prevent this sort of thing. Normally we'd be able to hammer through it, but we simply haven't the dragons. We need something... else..."

He paused for a moment in thought, his eyes drifting over the map. He did not appear to have heard Captain Reynolds the first time he spoke, but moments later he suddenly stood up. "I might have an idea that can do the trick. I'll explain in a moment." Only then did he nod to Captain Rankin and walk off from the others a good thirty paces, waiting to hear whatever the Canadian captain had to say.

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

Capricorn looked an awful mess, but even the smallest dragon was still a dragon, and though he limped as he walked, he did not seem to be mortally hurt. Captain Kelly was harder to diagnose, held as he was at present in Capricorn's jaws. Such a position was largely instant death for any creature, as Venomspitters could kill by sneeze, spit, or bite, but Capricorn, idiot though he might have been, had enough sense to hold his captain very gently, and paused, looking left and right, appearing like nothing more than a large dog with an oversized frisbee in its mouth.

When Jake and Hermecritus found the little dragon, Capricorn's eyes lit up and he lowered his head and laid his captain down on the ground, glancing worriedly around through the smoke. Fortunately, it was only another minute or so before the medics found them, racing over towards the two of them to lend desperately-needed aid.

"One'a the big ones flew over and 'e dropped a rock and it broke," said Capricorn in his soft Australian accent. "And then him and 'is friend came and tried to take Nick so I spat at 'em." Capricorn gestured with his head towards the Leuchtkaffer Kunja had beaten into the ground, lounging on its side some fifty yards away, twitching and moaning as medics went over it carefully.

"Then Kunja landed on 'im and the other flew off," finished Capricorn, still casting anxious glances in his Captain's direction. Suddenly he stopped, and whipped his head around to face the medics who were unfolding a stretcher and trying to load Captain Kelly onto it. The dragon growled low, baring its teeth, and bounded forward, scattering the medics who retreated abruptly with cries of alarm as Capricorn landed practically atop his Captain, straddling his fallen form and opening his wings up to appear as large and as menacing as he could, eyeing the medics suspiciously as he crouched protectively above Captain Kelly's unconscious form.

[Cynical Cat]

"This is a fucked up, off the books commando rescue mission," said Reynolds. "Don't try and tell me it isn't. I would say I respect you for looking out for your people, but you don't even know how to sneak dragons into France and you're trying to plan a rescue. We come up with something I sign off on or it doesn't happen."

[Charon]

Jake put his hand up as he slowly came up to Capricorn. "They're friends Cap. They need to help Nick 'cause that rock hurt him bad. Don't worry, you can stay with him, and I'll stay with the two of you to make sure they don't try anything." Jake was slowly moving towards the injured venomspitter with both hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "It's all gonna be ok Capricorn, I promise. But you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that for me?" Jake glanced at the medics and shook his head in a manner to suggest that they back off until he told them to come in.

[rhoenix]

Rankin took one look at the worn out form of Captain Braithwaite, and nodded, returning his salute briskly. "We've a chance to redeem it, Captain. The medics are seeing to your men I presume, and we'll have them look to Veritas as well. All we need is for him to be able to make it into the air and stay there for a few hours. No call for heavy fighting, not if this works. Just a shuttle run."

Russian by birth, though British by upbringing, Alexander Braithwaite only barely managed to prevent an utterly incredulous look cross his face by relying upon British stoicism. Even so, it was lucky that Captain Rankin was currently looking at the map.

He turned back to the map with the other captains and the Lightweight. "Sneaking in will be all but impossible. The Germans have radar, just as we do, and they'll have left a combat air patrol behind in reserve, just to prevent this sort of thing. Normally we'd be able to hammer through it, but we simply haven't the dragons. We need something... else..."

It was very soft, but Captain Braithwaite definitely heard Veritas make a sarcastic remark in Russian beneath his breath. "...Like divine intervention, or perhaps just a good stiff dose of sanity..."

This nearly caused Captain Braithwaite to smirk, but again, British stoicism prevented him from showing him an outward sign. Captain Rankin had just stepped aside to speak to Captain Reynolds, leaving Captain Braithwaite standing there for a second feeling rather stunned. After that second was over however, he saluted Captain Rankin, and walked back to Veritas, who was giving him a raised eyebrow ridge as he approached. As always, he already had a suspicion borne of long familiarity at what his Captain was likely going to do. "He may be barking mad currently, but it's actually the inspirational sort of mad. Apart from the gaping hole in my shoulder, I'd agree with his assessment completely."

This time, Captain Braithwaite smirked. "Good guess, old chap. I suppose sheer stubbornness and a few bandages are going to be keeping you aloft this evening."

Looking evenly down at his captain with slightly narrowed eyes for a moment with what almost could be considered a glare, he then slowly got to his feet, favoring his right forelimb. "Whatever horrible illness that has Captain Rankin taking leave of his senses has you as well, I see," he said with a slight growl, which grew as he regained his full height.

It became obvious to a practiced observer that he was now actually taking solace from the pain of his shoulder, as his voice swelled with volume and rage, finishing loud enough to easily be considered a roar. "And it must be affecting me, since I'm actually considering it. I'll do it to show the Hun that one of their paltry bombs can't keep me from flying. Bloody Hun bastards, I'll save all their eyes for last, so they can watch me eat their hearts!"

This caused Captain Braithwaite to grin broadly for the first time today, as he paced the larger dragon moving slowly to the medic's temporary headquarters. "Good show, Ver, I knew you'd see it my way."

There was still a noticeable growl in the great red dragon's voice as he replied. "Quiet, you. I am obviously delirious from whatever you and Captain Rankin are suffering from."

As the two slowly made their way to the Medic's pavilion, a surety grew in Captain Braithwaite's mind. Veritas had never been humbled, or truly enraged - until now. As a very young boy in Russia, before the Red Revolution began - he had heard the tales of the great Crimson Angels, and how they coldly and methodically tore their enemies apart. He felt honored to be walking at the side of one now.

[Charon]

Kunja watched the Russians banter and grinned. "My bet is you caught it off Jake and I. We've been diagnosed with the inspirational crazies since our first flight together."

With that, and the pair moving off, Kunja shamelessly eavesdropped on Nathan and Rankin's conversation. Snorting loudly as Nathan said that if he didn't sign on the mission would not happen.

[General Havoc]

Rankin folded his arms and took a deep breath, calming himself. "You are correct, Captain," he said, neither admitting nor denying that this mission was off the radar, as it were, "I do not know how to sneak a dragon into France. I am not SOE, I am RAF, and my background is fighting conventional wars with conventional tactics, for which this mission is ill-suited. Since you, I believe have such a background, any suggestions you have as to how one might go about doing so would be most valuable. I have an idea myself, as it happens, but it is not the sort of idea I am particularly eager to test in practice."

That was an understatement.

"However Captain, let me make one thing clear: this operation is happening, whether you like it or not. It is happening whether or not you refuse to participate, or even if you try to prevent it. If I have to fly Æquitas to France and back alone, this operation is still happening. I do not abandon my subordinates to their deaths, and I have not the slightest intention of explaining to you why. If you don't want to participate in this, that's your decision to make, and I've no legal grounds to compel you. We certainly stand a much better chance with Frostfell and yourself than we do without, but we are going regardless."

He let that statement stand a few moments.

"Now..." he said, "hypothetically speaking, of course, how would you sneak a task force of dragons into France?"

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

Capricorn did not looked convinced, and glared suspiciously at the medics as Jake approached, but very very carefully he stepped to the side, next to Jake, saying nothing, but looking around like a secret agent, occasionally taking worried glances back down at his injured captain.

"'f they hurt him," he said softly, "I'll spit on all'f 'em."

[Cynical Cat]

"No," said Reynolds, "let me be clear. It isn't happening at all unless I green light it. Frostfell will happily break Aequitas's wings in as many places as necessary. I'm not letting you take any dragons, starting with your own, on an ill conceived suicide mission."

"Getting the dragons into France is easy. It helps that most of the French who might see us won't be inclined to the Germans. I don't know what macho hero stories you hear about special operations, but I can tell you that in real life they require training, intelligence, and planning. The less of those you have, the less likely you are to succeed and you're fired up to go yesterday. That's going to get everyone killed.

"What's going to happen is that we are going to go back there with the nice intelligence officer, look at some maps, and discuss how the Germans handle dragons and dragon captains they take prisoner while having our supply sergeants and scroungers get their hands on as much black paint as possible."

[LadyTevar]

It was clear from his expression that the Luftwaffe officer did not understand Judith, but even considering that, he seemed to stumble for words for a moment, as though trying to think of something to say, before all of a sudden, Colonel Lorenz suddenly exploded.

Judith looked to the arguing men and started getting the idea that the Men In Black did not work well with the Men In Blue, or Albatros. Since it seemed clear that Lothar had trouble communicating with her, she decided to make things a little plainer. Tugging his arm to get his attention again, she subtly pointed to herself, to him, to Jebediah in his cage, and then both looked and pointed to the open doors of the warehouse. If the boy missed that question, then she was going to start wondering how she'd ever get understood in this place.

"You... you two all right?" asked Fulminatus finally in a low tone, growling as he tested the limits of his restraints. The Germans had resumed arguing, albeit in a lower tone, and for the moment seemed to be paying the Americans very little mind, cages, chains, and armed guards notwithstanding.

Jebediah growled low. "Th' ones in black were slappin' Judith around afore Albatros cam' in. Iffen I'm readin' scents righ'... they ain't friendly." Jeb paused, noting Judith's subtle attempts to get them out of the warehouse. "The jerries hit us bad, Fulnimatus. I'm thinkin' we're up th' creek."

[General Havoc]

"In Frostfell's present condition, Captain," said Rankin with an icy chill in his voice, "all that would accomplish is that your dragon would wind up crippled, and both of us would wind up dead, one at the hands of the other, and one at the hands of the dead man's dragon. Neither of us want that, so don't threaten me, and don't threaten Æquitas, at least not if you wish to continue drawing breath. I do not act by your leave, and if you try to hinder either of us by force, Captain Reynolds, you will not appreciate the result."

He left it at that.

"We have to do this quickly, because the standard practice for the Luftwaffe is to process captured dragons as quickly as possible and then entrain them for Germany. They usually accomplish this within 24 hours, if not 18. My guess would be that Jebediah, Fulminatus, and Nex will be on the first train to central Bavaria tomorrow morning. We therefore must act tonight or not at all, and the latter is, as I have perhaps mentioned, not an option."

"Moreover, the primary issue is not black paint, though that will no doubt help, but Radar. The Germans have it just as we do, and they'll also have left a force behind to serve as CAP during the night. As soon as their radars pick up any dragons approaching, they will scramble said dragons to intercept. There are... a couple of potential ways around this problem that I can think of, but there may be others I have not thought of, and since all of mine involve an unpleasant amount of risk, I would hear your thoughts on the matter. Either way however, I was envisioning something along the lines of a low-altitude incursion swinging left, making landfall somewhere near the mouth of the Seine, bypassing Le Havre, and coming in on Bayeux from the North East. For such a thing to succeed, both the CAP and the radar problems will need to have been solved of course, so if you know any way of solving either of them, or have an entirely separate idea that obviates the need for such things... I am... as they say... all ears."

"But most likely this is the sort of thing the other Captains should hear, is it not?" said Rankin, gesturing back towards the other captains around the map.

[Cynical Cat]

"Frostfell's more than strong enough to put Aequitas through the blender," said Reynolds. "I don't make threats Rankin. Frostfell can and will take Aequitas and that will keep him out of action for a couple weeks but it will keep you from throwing your life away. I saw enough heroic stupidity in '15 alone to have any taste for it.

"Radar isn't a problem. It has all sorts of problems, as you might have noticed by the fact a German squadron snuck up on us today. We can hug the waves and not get picked up. There are two problem with that. One is observers, which make black paint essential. Frostfell's well camouflaged for Scandinavian winter operations and not much else. The others is boats, but that's not our problem because Britannia rules the waves.

"Unless we know where the Germans are keeping their prisoners on the airbase, attacking it becomes very problematic. If we don't and can't pull a snatch and grab to find out, we should strongly consider hitting the train en route instead. It's a softer target and a copse of trees only has to hide us for half a day.

"Don't finish a casualty report and collect dog tags. Issue captured German weapons as much as possible. Any casualties from this operation get rolled into todays combat deaths. We don't tell any of the men anything about where the orders are coming from, but that this operation never happened. That'll protect them if this thing becomes unravelled."

[Charon]

Kunja spoke up even before Rankin and Nathan returned. "Why don't we just lay low and hit the train then? It's sure as hell gonna be less guarded than that base is gonna be. And the defenders'll be more spread out."

"And one more thing. You two don't quit threatenin' each other I'm going to come over there and pin the both of you to the ground until you agree to play nice with each other. We don't have the time for your stupid human politics. And don't go talkin' 'bout your dragons 'cause long as I was standin' over you they wouldn' do a damn thing."

[Cynical Cat]

"Pretend you didn't hear anything and walk away," said Reynolds. "That'll keep your captain safe. Don't threaten me while Frostfell can reach your oh so crunchy captain. He's a Wendigo, smarten up, leave us alone, and forget everything you heard in the last couple of minutes. Your captain doesn't need to have his ass in a sling with us."

[Charon]

Kunja stalked up to Nathan, claws digging deeply into the ground as he closed the distance. "You do not make threats, and neither do I captain. If you threaten my captain again you will not live to see what happens after that. Now, for someone as experienced as you are and for how much you seem to insult others on their rash behavior, you seem to partake in it quite a bit yourself."

Kunja took a deep calming breath, fighting down the more violent urges that filled his blood with a desire to knock this man off of his feet and hold his open jaws above his head. "I am not asking a lot captain, simply that whatever issues you may have with Captain Rankin be put aside so that the important issue of saving our comrades may be focused upon. And maybe with some luck and planning instead of each telling each other how fast we can kill the other for the next five hours we can figure out how to not only survive this mad scheme but also get our friends back."

Kunja took a few steps back now, showing that whatever challenge he had offered towards Rankin and Reynolds was, at the moment anyway, no longer in effect.

[Cynical Cat]

"Go back to your captain, forget this conversation, and remember that Frostfell is a Wendigo. You aren't as big and you aren't as mean, and unlike me, death won't be a relief from constant pain. You're not holding the big cards. Even if this works there's a good chance of people getting burned in the fallout and let me protect your captain so go back to him and forget everything you've heard. D'accord?"

[Charon]

Kunja was quiet for a moment. "Though I appreciate your concern captain, Jake and I don't want protecting. And yes we know damn well what shit will go down if this mission turns bad. Besides, from what I've seen Jake and I are the only lightweight support we're going to have on this trip, which makes us just about the only scout you'll have, at least until we get Jeb out and I doubt he'll be in any condition to do anything but fly. Additionally, I know a few tricks that may come in handy during the mission. In my opinion, I need to be here as much as you do."

[Cynical Cat]

Nathan was getting exasperated. "I thought the same way until '17. I smarted up. You'll be in on the mission, but as far as you know and as far as Jake knows its legitimate, up the line. Just secret. There's a time for gallantry. This isn't one of them and if this mission is going to succeed we're going to need to be as sneaky and as mean as possible. So stow the flying knight crap and get in touch with your feral ambush predator side. And have Jake round up as many German weapons as he can find.

"Fuck, no time to make silencers," he muttered.

[Agent Fisher]

Godfrey had landed and Jonathon was tending to him. As he was unstrapping the harness to look at the wounds, a cadet ran up to him, informing him of Rankin's orders to see him.

He patted Godfrey on the side and took off at a trot towards his CO.

He arrived, stood at attention and saluted.

"Sir, Captain Taggart reporting as requested." He said then dropped the salute. "And to answer your question about Godfrey sir, he's about 90% ready sir. Just a few scrapes need tending too."

[rhoenix]

(OOC: Shit, that went by fast - pardon the slight lapse in continuity for this reply to work)

Kunja watched the Russians banter and grinned. "My bet is you caught it off Jake and I. We've been diagnosed with the inspirational crazies since our first flight together."

This actually caused the corners of Veritas' mouth to curl upwards a bit, turning his head slightly to the left to reply as he continued slowly moving. "Ah, so we have you to blame for it. Excellent - I'll give you all war to cut it out."

Moving laboriously, but purposefully toward the medic's pavilion, Captain Braithwaite felt mildly surprised - Veritas, like all animals including humans, always disliked going to a doctor. Seeming to read his mind, Veritas' answer was a low growl. "I can put up with it just to spite the Hun's pathetic ragtag bunch of evolutionary mistakes for the moment, but I'm going to take great joy in eradicating them one by one when I'm healthy again. That's what's keeping me almost eager to go, despite going to the damnable vet."

This caused Captain Braithwaite's smile to grow a bit wider, and grim. "Indeed, you bloodthirsty overgrown bat. You have to pay them back sometime."

The growl in Veritas' voice grew a bit more noticeable. "I have no idea how I've avoided accidentally stepping on you over the years. But yes, you irritating hairless and helpless monkey, you're correct."

This only caused Captain Braithwaite to chuckle. He was looking forward to this just as much as Veritas was.

[General Havoc]

"Goddamnit that's it," snapped Rankin. "The next person, human or dragon, to issue a threat will be shot. You are not impressing anyone with how large your fucking dragon is, Captain Reynolds, so keep your bloody pecker in your pants, because we have a lot of work to do and many Germans to kill before the night is out, and I can't afford to lose you and Frostfell after everything that's happened today. Now if we could resume the business at hand?"

Captain Taggert landed nearby, and Rankin lowered his voice so as not to be overheard before the Captain arrived. "As far as either of you are concerned, this is a completely legitimate operation ordered from Uxbridge. I know how to fall on a sword, Captain Reynolds, and I have already taken the appropriate precautions to ensure that if this orchestra of mine should perform badly, the conductor alone will be held responsible. You are all following the lawful orders of your commanding officer, and are therefore blameless so long as you all shut your mouths for once. That is the extent of your concern in the matter insofar as either of you are concerned. Period."

As Captain Taggert entered hearing range, Rankin straightened himself up and returned his salute. "It's damned good to see you, Captain," he said. "We're going to have great need for Godfrey in the next few hours. See that the medics see to him, and I'd like him armed, armored, and ready to fight by sundown. Meanwhile if you'll join us, we've an operation to plan to liberate our captured comrades." With that, Rankin walked back over to the map and crouched down, taking a bit of red and green crayon from one of his cadets and sketching quickly on the map.

"Bayeux is here," he said, circling the town in red. "Home to JG-1, as of our last intelligence report. It is protected from approach by Radar, which we cannot afford to discount. I know, Captain Reynolds, that we were just snuck up upon without radar getting out a peep, but CHL should have been able to find those raiders even had they swum across the Channel, and as we don't know how they beat our detection, we can't hope to duplicate it blindly. We must assume that their radar is going to pick us up. The nearest radar station covering Bayeux is here," he maked an X on the map in red, "Point du Hoc, on the Normandy coast, overlooking the beaches. The station was built by the French, and the RAF has been trying to knock it out ever since the Jerries took it over, without much success. It has an approximate range of fifty miles, less over land, so say... this..." Rankin took up the green crayon and drew a dotted line around the area covered by radar.



"Now then," said Rankin, "someone suggested jumping the train taking our comrades out tomorrow. While such an effort would win us the element of surprise, it would unfortunately give us little else. The train will be moving south from Bayeux, and thus to reach it, we would have to penetrate even deeper into France. Moreover, we would have to do so in broad daylight. There's no storms predicted for this area for a week at least, so there'd be no weather to hide in, and if we wait for the following nightfall, they'll already be in Paris. Therefore, as I see it, we have two options."

He bent over the map again, this time taking a purple crayon and marking a series of arrows.

"The first option is that we move south and west tonight, making landfall somewhere south of Coutances, and land amphibiously if possible, to avoid the radar. We make our way inland during the night in a series of short flights, and ambush the train carrying our comrades at dawn, probably somewhere south of Bayeux. The crossing at the Odon River should be within reach if we press on as fast as we can. Once we liberate our associates, we press north-east as fast as we can, making for the Channel near Caen, and back to Britain. The problem, as I see it, is that the Germans will sortie from Bayeux and hit us as we try to retreat, and as they will be between us and Britain, we are unlikely to be able to evade them. They will be fully rested, and we will not, so I don't think highly of our chances in that case. If anyone has a better variation on this plan, I would hear it, but for now, let us pass on.



Rankin quickly wiped away the most recent crayon markings, and began to draw again.

"My preferred plan is the following, and I will require assistance with it in order for it to work. A single dragon, midweight or larger, armed with bombs or other ordinance, penetrates the German radar perimeter over the Cotentin Peninsula." He drew an arrow in light blue to indicate this dragon's trajectory. "This dragon will carry chaff bombs, which it will set off periodically so as to give it the appearance of a small task force of dragons. It will move south and east towards the radar instalation at Pointe du Hoc, and once there, it will do its damnedest to destroy it."

"The RAF," he went on, "has been trying to put Pointe du Hoc out of business by one means or another since the Germans took it in May. They're used to us sending nuisance raids over to harry it, and will hopefully react to the raid by scrambling their CAP to intercept the raider. The raider will attempt to put the radar out of business, and then retreat off to the west, across the peninsula towards the Channel, dragging the CAP, or at least a good part of it, to the west with it."

He paused. "Needless to say... whoever the raider is will face reasonably daunting odds alone against superior numbers. Consequently, if we adopt this plan, Æquitas and I will be performing this role. The rest of you..." he took up the purple crayon again, "will wait for our signal, and then move in towards Bayeux directly from the North and East. Even if the Radar hasn't been put out of action, the German CAP will be too far to the west to intercept you once they find out you're there. If the radar has been taken out however, then the first warning the Germans will get that this is something more than a nuisance raid will be when the entire squadron drops out of the sky onto Bayeux in the middle of pitch darkness. Their combat-ready dragons, or most of them, will be fifty miles to the west, and the remainder of their forces will be battle-fatigued and asleep, with their crews in their barracks and their dragons out of harness. At that point, we go to work, retrieve our comrades, and withdraw north back to the Channel, hopefully before the German CAP can re-engage."



Rankin stood back up to let everyone see the map. "Now... while our intelligence officer is trying to find any information about the layout of the Bayeux covert, I would like to know what everyone thinks of either of these plans, and more specifically if anyone has anything to add to either of them. Moreover, if anyone has a completely different plan to add, then I would ask them to air it, as I am far from an expert at this sort of thing."

[Cynical Cat]

"You don't dare shoot me," Reynolds said. "That was kind of my point to the Australian. So stop with the empty threats Captain Rankin. Now on to the plans.

"The problem with the first one is the dragons at Bayeux. The problem with the second one are myriad. It starts with the assumption that the German dragons will all chase the distraction, which is optimistic. The second is the guns defending Bayeux will be expecting company because the chaff distraction trick was old hat a year ago and their dragons will be far more rested and less fatigued than ours, having had a few hours of rest and not just flown the channel. We'll have to fight the Germans, while their sentries are alert, locate our prisoners, free them, and get back across the channel before the Germans.

"To be blunt, it relies on too many things not going wrong and matching our understrength and tired squadron against Germans who have some rest and alert sentries. It imagines the Germans making only mistakes and imagines our understrength and underweight squadron winning against German dragons and having the strength after the fight to fly back to England. Considering the shape our dragons are in and the size of most of our uninjured ones, this isn't a realistic expectation.

"Trains, on the other hand, are easy to derail. If we can come up with a way of not engaging Bayeux's dragon squadrons on the way home, it is by far the superior option."

[General Havoc]

Rankin had to suppress the urge to shoot Reynolds there and then just to prove his point. He instead permitted himself only a harsh glare at the Canadian, a silent warning not to overestimate his value, nor to push matters any further.

"Striking a heavily guarded German dragon-transport train deep inside Normandy in broad daylight with an entire German squadron positioned between us and Britain does not strike me as a much better option," he said. The train won't likely leave until the morning, which rules out a night attack, and if we wait until the following night, the Germans will have them in central France, well out of reach."

He thought for a moment, studying the map.

"Derailing the train shouldn't be particularly troublesome. It's simply a matter of destroying some tracks ahead of time, and if all else fails, Frostfell and Hermecritus can simply knock the thing over. There's a concern that we might injure or kill our compatriots in doing so, but that's a risk we may have to take. The issue is Bayeux. The train tracks lead south of the covert towards Paris, and there's no escaping the fact that they'll be across every line of retreat we have to get back. Burdened with wounded dragons, they'll be able to engage us at their leisure, in the manner they choose, which is not a healthy recipe."

"My assumption with the second plan was not that all of the dragons will chase the deception, but that at least some of them will. The Germans won't be dumb enough to leave nothing in the air over Bayeux, but it would at least thin the odds a bit. It is still however very risky for the reasons you mentioned..."

Another pause, then a question. "Might it.... not be possible to combine elements of the two plans? Have someone hit Pointe du Hoc or Bayeux itself or simply make themselves seen on Radar, and draw off at least some of the German battle-ready force Northwest? The rest lie in ambush for the train, and hit it as soon as it happens by, at which point they retrieve our compatriots and retreat northeast at best speed? Some of the dragons at Bayeux will still be able to catch them, but at least some will have been drawn away..."

He shook his head a moment. "That does deplete our force as well though... perhaps something else is in order...."

[General Havoc]

Lothar von Richtoffen nodded slowly, indicating that he understood, but then shook his head almost sadly and spread his hands. "Ausgeschlossen," he said, almost reluctantly, and indicated the chair she had been sitting in a moment ago, prior to the guards knocking her out of it. Colonel Lorenz and Albatros continued to argue in low tones as he did so, and Fulminatus shook his head and groaned.

"He said... 'impossible'," remarked the dragon to Judith, "And I do believe you're right about that creek. Goddamnit..." He growled and tugged at his chains one at a time. "Of all the dirty, rotten..."

He let that thought go, and looked around at the others. "That fella' in black's SS," he said in a low voice, with a growl in his throat. "Half the damn reason I came to this party in the first place. The blue-coats are Luftwaffe, German Air Force. Word has it they don't get along too well. I were you, I'd keep your mouths shut and stay away from anyone in black... 'specially..."

He stopped again, not saying what he meant by that.

[LadyTevar]

Judith looked over to Fulminatus as he translated, and then gave his warning, biting her lip as once again the full measure of just how far up the creek they were. Worriedly, she looked to Lothar again. "May Ah Go To My Drake?" she asked slowly and as clearly as she could, using their word for dragon since they'd been throwing it around repeatedly.

Jebediah had other thoughts on his mind. "What o' you, Fulminatus. How'd you get here, an' wha're these EssEss men plannin' fer you."

[Charon]

Kunja looked between the two. "Regardless, any plan that has been mentioned still deals with the rather impossible feat of distracting or fending off the dragons at Bayeux long enough for our wounded, who will be plentiful, to make an escape." Kunja grumbled. "This'd be much easier if we had another squadron to act as support..."

"As for the train, the initial strike would be much easier, but I've gotta wonder how much better it'd be. There's a chance we may lose track of the train, there's a chance that in stopping the train we'll kill some of our own. Finally, I'd much rather fight the Bayeux dragons while we're on the attack rather than desperately try to stop a numerically superior foe from bringing down our wounded while we try to get away. If we can get good intel on the fort and get lucky enough, that would allow us to hit their dragons while they were still at least somewhat unprepared, and make our escape in the chaos."

[General Havoc]

Lothar might or might not have understood her, but fortunately Fulminatus growled a couple more times and hissed out a few words in broken German. "Sie will ihr Drachen," he said, and while his accent was atrocious, the point was apparently taken. Lothar nodded to the guards, who approached several paces with their guns, then turned back to Judith and gestured towards the cage containing Jebediah, inviting her to approach her dragon. With five armed men in the room, plus Albatros, there was no risk there.

"I got jumped," said Fulminatus, his eyes fixed on Albatros and Lorenz. "Jumped by a threesome of Bluejackets right on the goddamn beach. I think I messed one of 'em up pretty good, and I was gonna set to the others... and... the next thing I know I'm wakin' up here with your hollerin' ringin' in my ears. I don't have the first idea what these bastards want, but the SS ain't known for their hospitality."

The two arguers continued to debate, and Fulminatus' gaze narrowed as he provided a running translation.

"Diese sind Underdraken!" exclaimed Lorenz. "Untergebenen, müssen sie behandelt werden wie alle anderen."

"He says we're sub-dragons," said the American Reaper. "Can't say I like the sound of that."

"Sie sind Gefangene des Krieges," replied Albatros, "Wenn wir wollen, um die Englisch zur Kapitulation, die nicht den Weg."

"Apparently he thinks we're prisoners," commented Fulminatus, indicating the Bavarian. "Seems to have the idea that if they don't treat us like prisoners than the others won't wanna surrender in the future. Imagine that..."

"Die Übergabe wird Englisch früh genug. Wir haben eine Verantwortung für die Rasse Zukunft der Luftwaffe."

"He says they have a responsibility towards the future of the Luftwaffe... something about race..."

"Ich werde Gedanken über die Zukunft der Luftwaffe, Standartenfuhrer," spat back Albatros sternly. "Das hat nichts damit zu tun, Sie und Ihre Kette Hunde!"

Fulminatus smirked. "He disagrees."

Colonel Lorenz was by now scowling up at the Speckled Bavarian, his tone sharpening to a deadly point. "Albatros, wenn Sie sich in dieser Angelegenheit, werde ich keine andere Wahl haben, berichten Sie auf der SS hohes Gericht der Anfrage."

Fulminatus raised an eyebrow. "He's threatenin' to write him up, best I can tell."

Albatros laughed almost contemptuously. "Das ist möglich. Kein Zweifel, sie wollen wissen alle, wie Sie weigerte zu gehorchen Bestellungen in der Mitte der Schlacht. Ich glaube, Pflichtverletzung ist eine Straftat innerhalb der SS, nicht wahr?"

Fulminatus chuckled and was about to explain, when a new voice cut across the warehouse like a knife through tissue paper.

"Wir hatten unsere eigene Pflicht."

Everything stopped.

Fulminatus, Lothar, even Albatros all froze involuntarily at the sound of the voice, a voice like nothing else, draconic certainly but different, indescribably so. Calm it was, and placid, and yet undeniably sinister, a voice dripping with shapeless malice, chilling the blood and sending shivers down the spines of all who heard it. And in an instant, all heads turned, and they saw it.

On the edge of the warehouse stood a dragon. The dragon was black, black like a hole in reality, blacker than the darkest night ever seen on the earth, a space of null-light in the shape of a dragon, neither shiny like Temeraire nor glistening like a Marais-pecheur, but uniformly black, so much so that its individual scales could not be discerned, not even in the broad daylight it stood in. It was large, larger than Fulminatus, midweight perhaps, but on the large end, long in the neck and tail with a serpentine head from which two red eyes burned like coals. Blades of bone extended from its tail, which swished back and forth behind it, and its iron-shod claws tapped at the concrete ground as it stood, and looked from person to person, and then slowly walked into the warehouse. Every eye followed it, German or Allied, watching it with the same intensity as one would a dangerous predator, and a few of the guards actually took several paces back as it approached. Fulminatus watched it in absolute silence, his mouth slightly ajar, his eyes unblinking, as the creature strolled towards them, a path clearing for it as it walked, its wings settled confidently on its back.

Werner Lorenz, alone among those in the warehouse, did not react to the appearance of the dragon in fear. He smirked as it approached, turning his head towards it and touching his cap almost regally, a gesture the dragon returned with the slightest nod of recognition. Albatros himself stood his ground as it approached, but his eyes too were fixed on the larger dragon, and no words did he speak. No-one else spoke either, stunned to silence by the palpable malevolence of this thing, a sheer feeling that it was something wrong, and alien, and that to draw its attention was to invite madness and death.

"Jesus Christ..." whispered Fulminatus finally to no-one in particular. "... it's a Stuka."

The Stuka stopped next to Colonel Lorenz and looking carefully around the room. "Ist, dass der Kapitän?" it finally said, its voice as smooth as silk and as sharp as a razor, the chilling sound of it enough to make one of the guards near Judith take in a sharp breath and clench his weapon tighter. If the Stuka noticed, it gave no sign, for its eyes had fixed themselves on Judith, as Albatros looked back at her, and gave a short, curt nod.

"Ja," said Albatros. "Das ist ihr."

The Stuka took a long, slow breath, as though digesting that information, and then raised one foreclaw slowly, and unmistakably beckoned Judith over towards it, a summons it would no doubt be dangerous to obey...

... and perhaps even more dangerous to refuse.