NABC Chapter 173 – Birds with Tongues of Steel
Chapter 173 – Birds with Tongues of Steel
“This is Ground Command speaking, this is Ground Command speaking. I repeat, this is Ground Command speaking, Raptor One, Raptor Two, do you copy? Over.” Captain Douglas sat in his plane as the jungles of Kirinyaa became a blur underneath him. The plane was slower than before, heavier too, its turns weren’t as quick, its acceleration wasn’t as powerful, the air brake was just slightly sharper too. The engineers hadn’t noticed it, or maybe they did and simply decided it was a worthy sacrifice in the name of mounting a cannon onto the plane.
“Raptor One copies. Over.” Doug replied into his microphone. This had changed too, before, the helmet was mere goggles with a button for the microphone attached on the side. Now, it was properly armour for the pilot of a fighter-jet. A heads-up-display flashed with signals, the gun had a tiny laser attached to it, which checked the range and firing arc, and a pair of crosshairs appeared on the screen.
“Raptor Two copies as well, over.” Erik’s voice came through the speakers in the helmet.
“Good, this is Ground Command, both of you have the green light to open fire, do not bother asking for permission. Over.” Douglas wasn’t going to ask in the first place, they were in a war, he would rather not die just because permission for fire wasn’t given.
“Copy that GC. Over.” Erik said and Douglas gave his own reply of affirmation. The two planes soared over a river, a crocodile bathing in the swamps of Kirinyaa looked up at the curious sight. Then it dived deep into the water to run away from the sonic boom as Raptor One and Two broke the sound barrier.
“From General Sokolowski’s report, it says to turn east. The transports should be below you in two minutes.” Douglas turned his central stick to the right and the plane made a swerve as it rolled over Kirinyaa’s jungle. A sea of green, interrupted every now and then by a seemingly random spiderweb of rivers bending and curving as they trailed their way through the jungle.
Erik’s voice came over the comms. “Doug, gave you tested it yet?” He asked.
“I saw it fire on the ground.” Douglas responded.
“But not in the air?” Douglas shook his head, then realised Erik was in the plane next to his and couldn’t see the action.
“Not in the air. You?”
“Same, I was just asking…” Erik trailed. “Well, I don’t want my bird to blow up.”
“It won’t.” Douglas replied. It wouldn’t, the engineer corps knew what they were doing. They should at least. Shouldn’t day? Douglas pushed the thoughts away, frankly, those were questions he didn’t need answers to. If the plane exploded, at least it was a quick death.
They flew in silence as a flock of birds moved out of way for the two planes. They squawked in fear, then rushed to the safety that the jungle’s canopy brought. Once, things like that had infatuated Douglas. Now though, he had been flying almost everyday and scouting out the progress Fortia was making. Even the rarest sights became common and mundane after a while. And his favourite sight was in the cabin, in the cupholder for his thermos sat the picture that had been taken at the end of Operation Misfortune, the original, still with Fer’s scrawl of a signature on the back. He smiled at the memory, that had been a good trip, even if he had only been a high-class taxi driver back then.
“This is Ground Control, do you see the targets? Over.” Douglas turned his control stick to rock the plane to either side and look below himself. It was a sea of green and brown, he saw nothing. He turned the plane to the other side. Nothing.
“I have something on radar.” Erik commented. “South of us.”
“They’re fast.” Douglas answered as he made a sharp turn to the right and increased the acceleration. He felt his entire body slide deeper into the deep seat in the cabin as the cornucopia of lights in his cabin kept up their routine blaring. Below them, one of Fer’s beastmen stopped his trek back to CR and looked up when he heard the planes above his head. By the time he found a clearing, they were already two black spots in the distance.
“Not fast enough.” Erik replied as the prey came into view. Three White Pantheon planes, huge transport aircraft that were air-dropping supplies for Elassa’s mages. Magicians were powerful, but they still needed food, they still needed water, shoes needed to be replaced when the thorns of jungle roots stabbed through and clothes could only be stitched so much before they needed the same treatment. Elassa’s swarm, as everyone referred to it now, had conglomerated into one after they crossed the Central Mountain Range.
Kassandora had to inspect Raptor One and Two herself before they set off. She had said, if it was groups of a hundred, maybe even two hundred, they could live off the land. But an army that large needed supplies, no matter if it was all magical. There was only so much that supporting Floromancers could grow before the dreaded supply lines needed to start forming. And there was no such thing as a supply line that could not be raided. It didn’t matter whether it swam, walked or flew.
An unknown voice came over the comms. “Unidentified aircraft, identify yourself. I repeat, unidentified aircraft, identify yourself.” Sometimes this happened. There had been a few times Doug had actually joked about with the White Pantheon pilots as he was scouting them. It was all fine and dandy when planes weren’t armed.
But not anymore, raptors were birds of prey. And today, they were finally go hunt.
Douglas said nothing as he pushed the acceleration further and arced the up. The three aircraft did the usual action they usually did when meeting Arascus’ forces: Nothing. “You’re KAF, right?” The voice asked.
“Kassandora’s Air Force, damn right.” Erik’s voice came through the open channel. All of the pilots had taken to calling it Kassandora’s Air Force and not Kirinyaa’s. Supposedly, the three-letter acronym was the official name, so was it even really a mistake?
“White Person transport plane here. Scouting again?” The voice asked.
“Scouting again.” Douglas came in this time. It would be harder to hit them if they started performing evasive manoeuvres. He might as well keep them calm.
“Well you probably know what we’re doing then.” The voice responded jokingly. Raptor Two, piloted by Erik, pulled up sharply, Douglas followed with his own bird soaring through the air. The two planes spun upside down so the two pilots could keep monitoring the three transport planes.
“Erik, look at me.” Douglas said, over these open comms, he didn’t want to give anything away by saying it out loud. The White Pantheon pilot chuckled when he heard it, the pilots of the other two planes joined, but Douglas did not care on bit. He looked out his cockpit, matched Raptor Two’s speed and came close until he could see Erik through the glass. The man was deep in his seat, control stick between his legs and wearing the same things Doug wore, heavy dark overalls with straps for a parachute across his chest. On his head was a bulbous helmet, the front dark glass, a tube running from the mouth to the man’s seat.
Douglas gave a thumbs up. Erik returned it. Good, so they both saw each other. Douglas beat his chest with a closed fist and pointed left, then he pointed at Erik and right. The message should be obvious, and they had established the hand signs for Operation Misfortune. Erik returned a thumbs up.
Douglas pulled Raptor One away and raised three fingers. He bounced the arm in the air.
Two fingers. Bounce.
One finger. Bounce.
Fist. Go.
Raptor One veered left, Raptor two veered right. Flames burst out of the jets of the two planes as they made a sharp turn towards. The two jets dived down like the mighty eagle. Although weren’t they? Eagles were kings of the sky, second only to Divines. And Douglas was riding that steel beast, his hands on the stick between his legs clutched tightly until his knuckles turned white. The plane started to shake from the G-Forces around him, the engines’ flames dimmed and once again turned blue.
A prowling lion looked up at the sky as he heard the sound’s barrier thunder. A snake let go of a mouse and slithered away back to its below. A pair of monkeys dropped the banana they were fighting over. A dozen beastmen stopped and watched what was happening above. One of Elassa’s mages turned as he heard an explosion in the distance. They were kings of the sky, the birds of prey built out of steel, designed to hunt other steel abominations. Douglas flicked the plastic cap safeguarding the red button on his control stick. He slammed both thumbs down on it. The birds hurled themselves towards their prey, and the birds started to scream. And lead poured from their beaks.
Captain Douglas swerved his control stick right as he saw his cannon rip up the wings of the transport plane underneath him. One engine exploded, then another. The other wing was hit in the critical superstructure, and started to tear, crack and bend. It cried a metallic scream, then flung over. And the cabin was hit too, a fire began within the plane, and Douglas pulled stick sharply towards him.
Raptor One swerved upwards, he travelled past the wreckage twice, once on the way down, once on the way up. Flames and dark smoke trailed in the light blue sky about him. Douglas’ eyes went to Erik’s kills. One of the planes had only been hit in a wing, its was leaving a dark trail of tarry smoke in the sky, but it managed to maintain a clear flight path.
And a hail of lead came upwards at it. Erik’s black plane shot past it like a sword slicing through the air. The wing exploded, the plane tilted sharply to the final one White Pantheon transport. The two planes went up in a huge explosion of orange and red flames. Douglas watched them fall to the green ocean underneath, then burst in a burst of fire even more brilliant than before.
“That’s two for me.”