Chapter Three: Wingman

The sun was high and the morning was beautiful as two fighter craft blazed through the sky. Smooth and masterful, the defenders flew demonstrating the high performance their reputation boasted.
Sitting in the cockpit of the Defender in front sat Captain Cress Alvin, his silver eyes sharply looking out over the vast landscape they flew across. He picked up his radio, his smile evident in his voice as he spoke. "How're you holding up, Rookie?"
"Slow down!" came the immediate response from his wingman on the radio. "You're going way above regulation speed. It's only a patrol, there's no need to hurry!"
Cress's smile only grew. "Can't keep up?"
There was silence from the rookie for a minute before Cress spoke again. "Come on, let's see what you can do."
He released the radio chat lever and dropped his hand down to the throttle switch, pushing it in fully. He felt perfectly at home inside a Defender, and the sudden push of the added throttle made him grin.
His craft rocketed ahead, his wingman taking only a moment to pick up the same speed and hurl his craft after Cress. The two machines spiraled through the air, Cress smiling to watch the rookie try to keep up. Jake Farr, 17 years old, top of the cadet's class, the kid they expected to be the best of the new Defenders. Cress himself was the last of the original generation of Defender pilots, having first begun flying when he was fourteen years old. It was during the time when humankind was desperate for pilots and began accepting them at younger and younger ages. With his parents having died along with the Earth, he and his sister had nothing to lose but each other. Cress started flying because food was scarce and pilots were guaranteed rations; he needed to feed his little sister.
Cress spun his craft into a barrel roll sideways, not letting up and twirling through the air, his defender more than capable of handling it. He was only 24 years old, and yet he was the old man in the squadron, everyone was waiting for him to turn in his wings and take another assignment. His commander was trying to get him to accept an instructor position, with no success. Perhaps this was his way of getting him to be an instructor anyway, taking the promising new kid under his wing.
He glanced back and was surprised to see that the rookie was keeping up rather well. He grinned and picked the radio back up. "Hey, I'm impressed. Don't tell me you learned to fly like that in a simulator." He was slowing down to fly along side Jake now, letting off the throttle.
Jake's voice came back on the com. "No, sir, I was a mechanic before I was accepted into the defender academy." he explained. "I flew everything I fixed to test it. I've been in the air many times before the academy."
Cress smiled. "Mechanic, huh? You and I will get along just fine."
He heard a soft chuckle of relief over the radio before he pushed the throttle ahead again, this time at a more reasonable speed. They flew together for a while after, cruising over the serene valleys they patrolled. There was a thick fog out in the canyons and deeper valleys in the unearthly, but beautiful landscape, despite the sun. It gave the valley a mysterious sort of air that Cress would admit he thought was beautiful, despite his knowledge that the foggy areas were also the most dangerous. They'd found all manner of dangerous animal life in the valleys around this area, all fascinating and beautiful, but equally dangerous. The beauty of the wooded valley was just another lure to a dangerous place.
They were coming to the point of their patrol where they would normally turn around when a distressed voice came out over their radio, Cress picking it up to listen more closely.
"Any Finellian forces hearing this, this is Settler 13! We are under heavy attack and need reinforcements and extraction as soon as is possible. Does anyone copy??"
Cress pushed in the transmitter switch with a clicking sound to respond. "Settler 13, this is Defender Patrol Bravo-Seven. We are on our way, hold on!"
The voice in return bespoke relief. "Defenders?? Thank Heaven! We're settled at Co-ordinates 56.0 - 21.7. Please hurry!"
"Acknowledged." Cress answered before he pushed the throttle in. "Come on, kid. It's action time." he said back on the personal radio.
Jake acknowledged his understanding before he asked. "56 - 21? Isn't that outside the colonizing safe zone? What are they doing clear out there?"
"Doesn't matter to us, Rook. We are Defenders, we will protect. We'll let them answer questions like that later."
In only a few moments, the scene came to their view, the Settler landing ship, box shaped, simple, and very large, came to view. It was landed in a clearing and seemed to have some village structures around it, which made Cress think it must have been well established already. Circling above it were three fire dragons, dark red in color, and down below there was the unmistakable flashes of magic and gunfire.
"Alright kid, dragons first. Then we'll clean off the ground. Arm rockets." Cress instructed quickly, switching over to missiles on his own control panel, arming an air-to-air barrage.
The dragons noticed the incoming ships, their bodies fluid in the air as they turned away and began flying toward the Defenders, spewing fire at them. Cress dodged it without much effort, dipping beneath it before he spun into a barrel roll, releasing the barrage mid-spin.
The rockets fanned out and found their marks, directly impacting the first unfortunate beast. As the rockets hit the monster, it's tough hide was no match for the chemical force and energy of the blast, making no shield at all. The dragon was dead instantly, its ruined body falling from the sky.
As Cress leveled his craft, he saw yet another barrage, this one from his wingman, impact into the second dragon with similar results.
"Good hit!" he called to him, not looking away from the final dragon. He switched to guns, the high-caliber weapons spinning to life as he charged against the dragon as though they were playing chicken. The monster spewed its fiery breath at Cress, the fireball scorching toward him. He spun the craft, making it spiral through the air and just dodge the fireball, returning fire with the chain guns. The dragon made attempts to dodge the stream of bullets, but found itself less apt than Cress and his defender. The stream of bullets caught the dragon full on, the armor piercing rounds having no problem ending it. The final dragon fell from the sky as the two defenders charged forward undaunted.
Cress could make out the figures in combat now, the beleaguered marines retreating into the ship to continue the fight from cover as many more of the castor knights attacked. He once again put the guns spinning and drilled the the land as he passed with ammunition, a few moments later Jake doing the same. The magicians began to retreat almost immediately at the overwhelming air-support, trying in vain to run for the trees while Cress and Jake made several more runs. A few little jets of magic darted into the air after them, but without making their marks as the defenders were too quickly passing for any aim to be of help. The two defenders were armed only with a patrol payload, so they were in no way fully armed, instead outfitted for maximum fuel efficiency. After firing the last of his bullet rounds, Cress dropped the only air-surface payload he had, a few rockets which caused further chaos among the retreating castors then he turned about to circle while he radioed.
"Settler 13, this is Defender Patrol. Enemy is in retreat and guns are dry. We need to return to base. Can you hold for extraction?" He spoke, looking at the colony ship beneath him.
"We should be alright for now. Thank heavens for you, Defenders- it wasn't looking good until you came." the voice sounded deeply relieved.
Cress didn't acknowledge the compliment but only the answer he'd needed. "Roger. Extraction forces should be on their way. Defender patrol returning."
He turned his wing about and aimed for Finelle, flying low and checking for Jake to be behind him. Cress popped the switch back on the radio to just talk to his wingman and spoke. "Well,your first combat experience. You ok?"
Jake's answer came back sounding a little uncertain. "I'm alright. It was just so fast..."
Cress nodded, even though Jake couldn't see him do it. "You get used to it."
He was about to say more when he saw a warning flash on his radar. There was a bogey coming in fast, a dragon they'd missed somehow, or an advance from another wave of attack. He looked back to see the shining blue hide that could only belong to a spiker, a slimmer kind of dragon with a back like a hedgehog. It could fire spines from its back, which moved much more quickly than the fireballs from the other dragons, and which made them much more dangerous to aircraft. His silver eyes widened a little in shock at how quickly it'd closed the distance to them and saw it firing spines toward his wingman. "Heads up!" he shouted to Jake, but a moment too late.
The spines made contact all across his backside, punching out an engine and making dark smoke start to rise from behind the machine. Jake's craft bucked violently before making a sharp downward turn, spiraling downward into the forest. Cress swore and spun his craft about to avoid further projectiles from the beast as it bore down on him. He cursed himself for using the last of his ammunition already before the real danger was upon him.
They went at each other several times, each time they passed each other Cress making another last moment dodge to avoid further spines being thrown into him. He wasn't going to be able to keep it up, eventually he'd be struck if he didn't do anything. He began reviewing the ship's various systems in his mind, trying to think of anything that could be useful to him. If he wasn't in it himself, he might have been able to use the ejection seat as a potential projectile... Perhaps the landing gear? He ruled it out quickly, his thoughts scattering as he made another pass and dodged another set of spines. The landing gear would probably do far more damage to his own ship then it would the monster. There was always the mooring cable, a claw attached to a rope that they would use to anchor their craft to objects in space before they came to this world. He'd have to make it work.
As he came around for another pass, just dodging the spines yet again, he fired the mooring cable, it hooking and attaching to the dragon's wingtip, effectively yanking it from its flight.
Cress grinned, knowing he had it now. He punched the throttle to full and fired on the afterburners to give him all the speed he could get, curving mid-air to fly nearly straight up. After rising nearly two thousand feet up, he made a sharp curve downward, plummeting at insane speed downward, dragging the beast along with him.
He wasn't sure why, but he felt the awful impulse to toss off a one-liner as he finished the maneuver. He couldn't control himself, he did it.
"Thanks for flying!" he said like an airline captain as he sharply pulled up, curving out of the nose dive with less than a hundred feet between him and the trees. He released the mooring line as he did, the dragon not getting the corrective pull up, the massive speed and force on it smashing it into the ground where it lay still from that time on.
Cress was breathing hard, his head swimming from the G-Forces he'd just experienced. He took back the control and floated his craft back to the crash site where Jake had gone down.
The trees were too dense to see where he went down precisely, but there was no sign of fire or explosion, which meant that Jake might have survived. He grabbed his radio, trying to see if Jake might be listening or able to speak in return.
"Rookie! Kid!" he called, hoping to get an answer. "Pick up the radio, Jake!"
After a moment, he heard a voice come back, sighing in relief as it did.
" . . . Hey, Captain." he mumbled into the mic. His voice was soft, and sounded weak.
"You alright Jake? Any injuries?" Cress asked, his mind reviewing the curriculum to remember what sorts of survival training Jake might have had.
"I hit my head." he said softly. "It's bleeding a little, but I think I'm ok."
Cress rubbed the side of his own head for a moment, trying to think of a possible alternative acceptable plan to just floating there watching him.
He was thinking of trying to perform a landing to pick him up when his radar alarm started going off yet again. He looked down, seeing three more dragons incoming. He turned in his seat to see them on the horizon, two the familiar blue that meant trouble and the third a black color he'd never seen before. He swore under his breath before he turned back to look at the wreck. "Jake, we've got incoming. I'm totally dry on guns, I can't stay with you. Use the survival rifle in your defender and get into the woods, try to hide." He instructed hurriedly, keeping an eye on the incoming dots on his radar.
His voice was afraid when he picked up. "What do you mean, you mean the enemy is coming now?"
Cress ground his teeth a little before he answered. "Jake, I am your wingman. I will come back for you. You know your training, now put it to use." He hated to leave Jake behind, but there was nothing that could be done about it now, he would only complicate the problem by being a sitting duck. He punched the throttle to full, pushing away from the place and headed straight for Finelle. He noted that both the blues changed course to give him pursuit, firing after him immediately. He rolled the ship to the side, making most of the spines glance off, but a couple hit home. Alarms started ringing, but the craft held together. His throttle died off to only 30% after the impact, not enough to outrun the dragons, but he could still give them a run. He kept the craft steady in its run, both dragons on his tail.

~

Jake stumbled from the wrecked ship, clutching the rifle in one hand. His head was screaming at him, the world swirling from his injury. He made his way off of the defender's wing and onto the forest floor, staggering away at the best pace he could manage. It was only a moment later that he heard Cress's ship bolt away and he looked up, fighting off a surge of panic. He was by himself now, alone and being hunted. He wasn't quite out of sight of the crashed fighter when he heard the wingbeats of a decending dragon, coming down to land on the fighter with the crunch of metal under claw. He threw himself onto his chest on the forest floor, hoping that the grass and brush would hide him, or perhaps the dragon would think him already dead. He tried to control his breathing as he held the rifle, ready to roll over and fire.
He could hear the dragon's growls and sniffing as it searched about, the enormous monster creeping about as it looked for the mission pilot. He held his breath, but it did him little good. After only a moment, the dragon began growling in his direction, having discovered him. He swore, rolling over and lifting the rifle, praying that he'd get in a lucky shot that would deter the monster. He lifted the rifle and pulled the trigger, but to his surprise, he got off only a couple shots before the rifle was thrown from his hands. A bolt of what appeared to be lightening hit into his hands from the side, knocking the weapon flying away. Jake yelped in mixed surprise and pain, the bolt knocking him down and burning his hands. He slowly started to look up to see what hit him, but saw only a black armor boot swing toward him, kicking him back onto his back. His head was a nightmare now, the world started getting dark around him, he knew he wouldn't be able to fight off unconsciousness. He felt certain he was going to die until he heard the black armor clad figure, blurry in his vision speak - it's voice dark and filled with cruelty.
"No, you mustn't die yet, Fell." It spoke as it walked toward him. "I have far too many questions for you to die silently..."
Jake couldn't register the full weight of what the man meant before the darkness covered him, his pain leaving as he fell into unconsciousness.

~