Disclaimer, I don't own shit.
For those unfamiliar with Arma 3's story, here's a quick briefing about the archipelago and the factions involved. The island of Altis is a Mediterranean island off the eastern coast of Sicily. Altis is a relativity small island clocking-in at 270km2; however, Altis is the big brother of the archipelago, with Stratis being the little one, only being 20km2. Civil war swamps the little island nation, starting after the 2025 coup by the AAF (Altis Armed Forces), the AAF have been in a bloody civil war for a decade, with NATO and CSAT arriving as peacekeeping forces in the early 2030s.
NATO:
Decades of economic and political turbulence across member states has left NATO weakened and facing a strategic paradigm shift. With CSAT political and military influence dominating from the Pacific to the Mediterranean, NATO seeks to consolidate their diminished forces around traditional strongholds.
CSAT:
Formed at the apex of the Canton Protocol summits, this strategic alliance of states is built upon the goals of mutual defence, expanded global influence, and sustained economic growth. Set against the context of foundering economies and civil unrest across the west, CSAT has risen in prominence over the last decade. Investment in shared civil and military technology and the aggressive pursuit of opportunities and partnerships throughout Asia, South America and North Africa has led to a sharp increase in strategic tension across the globe, as traditional spheres of power and influence are encroached upon. Recently partnering with the government of The Republic of Altis and Stratis.
The AAF and CSAT, launched a surprise attack on the US-led peacekeeping forces forcing the survivors of the extensive attack to fight with the FIA, (the Freedom and Independence Alliance.) while cutting off communications to the outside world. After a month and a bit of lack of communication from the Taskforce stationed on Stratis, NATO launched a counter attack against the AAF and its allies, capturing Stratis and its all-important airbase and securing a beachhead on Altis; however, the next day after a large bombardment by artillery and clearing of CSAT and AAF AAA sites around the Airport and cooperation by the FIA in the attack, the airport was secured and in the evening the NATO forces moved onto the capital forcing the remaining AAF and CSAT forces into the northern peninsula.
30 Miles off the coast of Altis, USS Freedom, 0800 hours, 2035 / 08 / 10.
"As you know, the Invasion of Altis is well underway; however, CSAT has called in their heavy, long range interceptors and bombers to attack our forces. We believe that their main target is the Altis International airport, where our CAS is. If they hit it, our entire operation would be put in risk. Our job is to secure the airspace and get air superiority. Understood?"
"Yes Sir!" the two pilots replied
The two pilots sitting in front of their commander, Hornet One and Hornet 2 or known officially as 2nd Lt Jeff Ryan and 1st Lt Chris Campbell or better known as 'Rocket' and 'Christy'. Jeff, being a much younger pilot having typical Marine brown hair, bald as a bowling ball; while Chris, being a Veteran of Korea and the anti-pirate operations off the Somali coast, had shaggier black hair and having an inch over Jeff.
"Right." their commander said, Dylan Dyson, an Iraq Vet, in his 50s with not so subtle greying hair. "Get kitted up, Eagle flight is doing CAP now and will be able to asset if things go south."
As the quick briefing was over, the pair kitted up and walked through the USS Freedom's massive hanger.
The Aircraft Carrier "USS Freedom" (CVN-81) - The USS Freedom is the third ship of its class and the 4th ship with the name "Freedom". Carrying hull designation CVN-81, the nuclear-powered aircraft carrier serves as a main operating base for NATO. The USS Freedom can carry various fixed wing aircraft and helicopters on board that can facilitate almost every support role. With a length of 337 meters and width of 105 meters, this is one of the largest ships ever built.
The USS Freedom is armed with various autonomous defensive weapon systems such as the; Praetorian 1C CWIS - Supplied by 20mm Vulcan rounds, the Praetorian CWIS was designed to protect the NATO navy from any possible aerial threat in close range and the k-49 Spartan SAM & Mk-21 Centurion SAM - The Spartan Surface to Air Missile system and the Centurion Surface to Air Missile system were designed to protect the NATO navy from any possible aerial treat. Armed with 2 IR guided short range Anti Air missiles and 8 radar guided medium range Anti Air missiles, these three systems are usually deployed in tandem with her escort's firepower to deny the enemy any chance to damage her.
They continued up to the deck, up to their aircraft; F/A 181 II Black Wasps. The F/A-181 Black Wasp II is a fifth-generation, single-seat, twin-engine, all-weather tactical fighter jet. The aircraft was designed primarily as an air-superiority fighter, but also has ground attack capabilities. Its additional external hard points enable the aircraft to carry a wide variety of weapons configurations from JDAMs to AMRAAMs. The Black Wasp is fitted with the required equipment for carrier operations. It's often called a mixed breed between the original Hornet and the F-22.
XXX
'There's a series of events, feeling almost ritualistic, that precede the shot.' Chris thought to himself as he strapped himself in ready for take-off.
All strapped in he turned his head to see Jeff, His plane captain sometimes helping him strap, giving a subtle knight-squire flavour.
Once the Air Boss calls away starts, the two pilots fire up their engines and begin the system alignments and checks. Throughout the process, there's a slow build-up of tension. In the daytime, it's a rising exhilaration,
'It's like you're gonna have triple chocolate cake with Jennifer Lawrence and Neil DeGrasse Tyson.' Chris once again thought 'at night, of course, it's exciting, but more like you've been called into the boss's office and you don't know why.'
The pilots finally taxied up to the catapult.
'It's like stepping onto the field in a big game. The butterflies in your stomach start doing t'ai chi. Essentially, the nerves have wrapped so tight they're lose again. The training and professionalism take over and the enthusiasm and uneasiness sit in the closet babbling about how Starbucks should market iced coffee with cream soda.' Chris Continued 'I really need to stop making these really weird comparisons.'
"Hornet 2, you set?"
He watched as the deck crew wave their arms about, casting their collective spell that will magically launch his aircraft off the deck. His arms flail about weaving your counter spell, aimed at getting the plane more specifically into the sky, arms flying around the cockpit, dropping flaps and checking stabs.
"Alright, let's do this." Hornet 2 replied
"Freeway, this is Hornet flight, we're ready on the safe-shots, over."
"Hornet 1, Hornet 2, you're cleared for take-off."
The shooter touches the deck, his helper punches the button, and Chris has an elephant suddenly backing frantically, noisily into him, followed by more successive elephants backing into himas he rockets down the track. Not only is his speed increasing, the acceleration is, too, pushing him harder and harder into the seat.
A lot of things are happening now. That low roar of the engines is replaced by a sudden, increasing cacophony: escaping steam, whining metal, high shrieks from whirling pulleys; However, all these sounds are drowned out by the relentless shriek of the two Pratt and Whitney F119-PW-100 turbofans both producing 35,000 lbf or 165 kNs with afterburner deployed.
His vision was also playing havoc with things. From the eagle vision he's used to, only a small circle of clarity exists before him, all the rest being thrown into a great Photoshop velocity blur. And what's in front of him is the end of the deck. And it's surging toward him in a rush.
Each of these last 30 minutes have been spent in anticipation of this crescendo, but in the space of a microsecond, the sound drops to a distant hum, the forces shoving him back evaporate, the ship disappears, and he's left with this feeling of hanging weightless, 80 feet over the sea; he scans his engine instruments to make sure time hasn't stopped; Chris makes sure he's still pointing up, because there is no outside reference; and he needs to restart his heart, because his brain's going to need more oxygen soon.
He pulled the stick up gently, the craft rocks gently as he switches hands to pull up the gear.
"Hornet 2's up. Joining on lead" Jeff reported
Making sure his heart is back in order, Chris replied "Hornet 1 copies. Climbing to 1500. Heading 050. Speed 720. Burn to intercept." having a look at the LED screen that displayed, the Wasp's weapons and instruments.
The Flight wasn't long, it didn't take long for the two aircraft to reach the AO. The AO
"Two, you see anything?" Chris asked his wingman, flicking on radar.
"Negative, Radar's clean."
"Roger, stay sharp. Keep your eyes out." He replied, scrutinising this radar screen. The Wasp's Radar set was sophisticated, it could pick out a sparrow from 16km away and hit it with a sparrow.
"The fuck?"
"All Forces, this is Freeway, we've had another earthquake, wait what the fuc-"
The entirety of Altis was covered in a blinding light.
And as soon as the light had appeared, it disappeared.
The two pilots were surprised that they were alive, let alone flying.
"Hornet 2, you still up?"
"Affirm Chris… what the fuck just happened?" Jeff groaned.
"Dunno Jeff." Chris replied "Freeway, this is Hornet Flight… we're, uh, we're up."
"Roger that, Hornet, we've got no idea what just happened. We've lost comms with NATO Command… erm-"
Both pilots could hear one of the members of the Freedom's CiC in the background say "What th-, where did they come from?"
"This is Freeway. Hornet Flight, we've got a gaggle, bearing 165, Altitude 13000, Speed 250. Burn to contact, bearing 093 clear to climb, the sky is yours. "
'250? That's too slow for a jet, could be a Prop aircraft, maybe a Marchetti... maybe a Texan II, wait...' Chris thought scrutinising his radar, the contacts were tiny, too small for an aircraft, even a single prop,
"Jeff, you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Yeah… too slow for a turbojet and too small for one anyway."
"Agreed."
"Roger that, Freeway, we're on the way."
XXX
Chris looked at the Radar on his HUD, the unknowns were only 2 clicks out.
Both aircraft broke through the thick cloud cover that was above 13000 feet.
"What." Both pilots uttered at the same time.
"What?" Freeway said
"There's… there's…"
"H-h-hornet-2 here… there's... girls..."
"What… what do you mean?
"Sending Video Feed..."
XXX
A collective of gasps came from the Freedom's CiC as both Hornet Pilot's video came in. most of the staff on duty, trying to get their equipment working.
Despite the cloud and distance, the HD cameras clearly picked out a group of girls with odd looking machines on their legs, they resembled WW2 aircraft.
"Get Admiral Grady up here now!" The CiC officer ordered the ETO.
"Gentlemen..." A voice came through, instantly recognisable to the pilots as Admiral Grady the commander of the Freedom's battle group. "We need you to contact these… ladies. Currently we can't connect to Command or our Satellite Network, Intel suggests some device that CSAT has developed, in any case we need you to ward these... people off, this is a Warzone, engage if hostile."
"'Eye, sir."
XXX
The two F/A 181s screamed in at half of the speed of sound, coming in from the sun and swooping down just below the formation of girls.
Just as Chris gently pulled the stick back, he was met with a couple violent THUDS as rounds ricochet off his Wasp's hide and tracers fly above his head.
Under his mask, Chris grinned like a motherfucker, "Well" he said to his wingman "Time to bag some killz!"
'Odds are, at this low speed we're going to be turning fighting,' Chris thinks, 'We came in at such a slow speed and we're too close for a missile shot...'
After a second more of contemplation, Chris talks "Hornet two, stick to me like glue." Today was the perfect day to do the manoeuvre Chris was planning to do, there was more cloud cover above 13000 feet at around 15000 feet meaning he and Jeff would come in on their attack basically undetected.
Pulling the stick right against his stomach, Chris pushed his throttle a little past 100% initiating the afterburner and is instantly pushed back in his seat as several thousand pounds of thrust rocketed him upwards.
14000 feet, 15000, 16000,
Upon reaching 17000, he throttled back and let gravity do its work, slowly the big Wasp heeled over and plunged towards earth, gravity pulling the aircraft into a steep dive and as the two aircraft broke through the higher cloud cover the unknowns had tuned and climbed above the position where the two F/A 181s had begun their zoom climb, 'The formation leader probably thinking that no pilot would risk a straight dive down to attack.'
'Too bad the bitch is fighting Black Wasps'
"GUNS, GUNS, GUNS."
Usually when using this manoeuvre, you would fire a missile when in range during the dive; however, Chris thought that was boring, and went with the Cannon. The M61A2 Vulcan Cannon was first designed in 1946 and was close to being a century old, but much like the wheel, sliced bread and the M1911, it was timeless. Capable of firing 6000 rounds at minute it had served the US and its allies since 1959, used in everything from the F-4 Phantom to the F-22, it was a fearsome weapon. You would also usually put your throttles back to 100% when in the dive, but Chris kept his back to idle, making sure the pair fell on the enemy formation while making as little noise as possible, well as less noise as possible considering both aircraft weighted around 25 tons with combat load.
Chris aimed for the leader of the formation, a redhead wearing olive green, waiting until the woman was within 1500 feet before thumbing the cannon stud, the delicious BRRRT of the M61 firing 100 rounds a second. One of the odd features of the Black Wasp was its lack of a reflector sight, the actual sight was built in to the Pilot's helmet, but the fact it told Chris exactly where to aim.
Chris was surprised that suddenly what could only be described as a bright blue shield inscribed with runes appeared to block the rounds but that was swiftly shattered by the brute force of the many 20mm SAPHEI shells smashing into it, the rounds that got through, ripped through one of the machines on her leg, immediately producing nasty black smoke.
The two F/A 181s screamed past the enemy formation at damn near the speed of sound and after another 1000 feet of diving both pilots pulled their sticks back and Chris' vision blacked and then tinted red as the G forces slammed him into his seat, draining blood from his head to his feet. The sudden scream of the onboard the on-board computer shouting, "Over G, Over G, Over G-"
"AH SHUT BITCH."
XXX
"Minna!" Sakamoto screamed as the Karlsland Witch was hit by the Neuroi's 'laser' beam from above; however, there was difference on how the 'beam' hit, instead of the *FUSSH* of a laser beam there was the Clink and Clank of kinetic rounds hitting their target and in that instant, she *knew* that she wasn't fighting Neuroi. Neuroi don't use cannons, but humans do.
Mio lifted her eye patch to get a better look at the aircraft as the other witches in her Finger four made sure Minna was alright, they were sleek, they had double rudders with rockets attached to pylons on their wings and on their fuselage, was written VFMA-314.
"Marines." Sakamoto muttered "Liberion Marines."
"Major Sakamoto," Sanya called "Enemy Neuroi Below us."
XXX
"Jesus fucking Christ, fucking girls with fucking WW2 aircraft on their legs that can carry fucking LMGs and HMGs like fucking toys." Chris swore horribly "What's fucking next? A flying Submarine?"
"erm-"
"Fuck me" Chris growled "Hornet-2, BREAK!" Hornet 2 broke left while Chris broke right as a 500m Submarine appeared out of the clouds, to Chris it looked like a Virginia class, with a smooth boot shaped conning tower.
However, Chris' attention was required elsewhere as his entire body becoming around 10 times as heavy as he suffers 10 times the earth's gravity, blood rushes from his brain to his feet, at 10g not even the G-suit, he starts breathing rapidly, the exhalation and inspiration every 3-4 seconds maintains oxygen content and decreases carbon dioxide in his blood, while also relieving increased pressure of the g forces on his chest, and allowing his heart to refill with blood and he starts to flex his legs, Flexion of skeletal muscles of legs and abdomen. This step increases the pressure in his chest and displaces blood away from these contracted muscles into the arms, chest, and brain.
XXX
"Fuck." I growled, Me and the Kid were split up, I pulled the stick up to climb a bit more, I was currently at 15000 feet, the same level that the women were at. I continue climbing up to 16000, all the cloud cover that was previously there was gone, none where to hide this time.
Suddenly there was an other-worldly groan that originated from the giant submarine as it released what seemed to be parasite fighters, there was little ones and big ones.
Everything below me turned into a massive fur-ball, as the unknown women engaged the giant submarine, I began looking for my wingman.
After a minute or so of searching, I saw him down low joining on the F-22s of Eagle flight, good reinforcements, I called him on the radio, "Hornet-2 come in," No response "Hornet-2 come in!"
Dammit, they must be jamming our comms, that would also explain why I haven't heard from the Freedom in a while.'
I rolled over, getting a better look at the massive cluster-fuck below, the women did seem to be winning; however, tracking the tell-tale signs of battle damage, (e.g. smoke 'n shit) and find the redhead I shot at earlier, chased by 3 of the big shits that were ejected from the giant sub. I feel a pang of guilt shoot through me; however that's quickly extinguished by the flare anger, those shits are trying to steal my kill!
"HEY" I shout to no-one particular "THAT'S MY KILL."
I dive into the fur-ball, rolling back over during the dive, put my radar on full blast, giving me a 360-degree view of the battlespace, while hopefully making the units chasing the redhead notice me and engage me instead, my idea being that if they can make a Sub fly, they can home in on my Radar and distracting them from the redhead.
Two of them pull of her and head towards, and I ready to pull off a Totally Aggressive attack.
To carry out a Totally Aggressive attack on two opponents is always exciting, but it's also very dangerous. History, however, is full of successful one-on-two accounts, so if the right opportunity presents itself, I don't hesitate. To aggressively attack two opponents, your bombs should be gone, I don't have any, so check that off the list. You should have plenty of fuel, I have around ¾ of a tank and at least two AIM9 Sidewinders and two AMRAAMs, My Wasp was loaded up for Air interception, so I have 6 AIM9s (4 on the two outside Pylons and 2 inside the Wasp itself) and around 10 AMRAAMs (4 again on the inside Pylons and 6 inside the Wasp). Fire off a AMRAAM at one opponent to keep him busy for a minute or so, I do this, the AMRAAM releases from the pylon and a moment later, the rocket motor ignites, rearing away at the 'aircraft' I'd targeted, the roar accompanied by a "Fox-3" from me.
I pull around to head on enemy aircraft #2. I'll certainly have to dodge missiles here, so I keep an eye out, but I don't, no I am facing fucking lasers, this succeeds at spooking me as I and the enemy, we scream past each other, I cut power and try to out-turn my opponent for a gun shot.
I keep an eye on the AMRAAM that's chasing target #1. If the missile hits or runs out of fuel, I'll fire a Sidewinder at #2. If the AMRAAM I first shot misses and the Sidewinder shot I'll shoot if it does miss #2 misses as well, I'll break off the attack, disengage and build up some airspeed; then I'll repeat this procedure until one of the targets goes down, then move in for a one-on-one attack.
But the AMRAAM doesn't miss, the big black stupid bastard, just turns to intercept me and gets slammed into by the missile, ripping it to shreds, this is accompanied by the satisfying disappearing of it's blip from my Radar scope.
I continue with my turn fight with the enemy deploying my flaps 'n stabs, airbrake deployed, slowing me down put letting me all the better, slowly my HUD's gun reticule floated over the fucker's nose and I fire. The M61A2's roar accompanied by the shattering of the enemy. Continuing the turn, I draw a bead on the last enemy pursuing the redhead, I'm too close for an AMRAAM, but in almost perfect range for a Sidewinder, the infrared missile locks on quickly and rockets off the rail and slams into the enemy with little effort used in tracking.
"Shit." I muttered, I had lost visual of the Redhead.
She appeared at my wing.
Good, she understands.
We either die apart or live together. Someone who was more articulate than me would have said something like, "We would either fall divided or stand united."; however, I am a Fighter Pilot and Marine which means that I am not good with words… or subtlety for that matter.
Having a wingman (In this case wingwoman) in a fur-ball is crucial, without a partner to cover your back, you'll be singled out and pick apart by enemy aircraft. Plus, an extra pair of hands and eyes here is very helpful.
I flip over the paper containing the weather report and some notes I'd made during the briefing on my kneeboard, showing the blank side of the paper, and fish out my Biro from one the Flight pockets from my, the boys from Boeing gave them away by the bushel when they introduced the F/A 181 to the USMC and USN. I write "RADIO FREQ 253.0" onto it on and shove it up to the cockpit window while wiggling my wings to get her attention, hopefully I can contact her, comms may be blocked but hopefully considering there's such a short range between us that that won't matter.
She nodded and a moment later I get a response.
"Pilot, state your, Name, rank, Service, Serial Number and Airframe."
I do so, first impressions are everything; well, I did shoot at her, so first impressions probably weren't that good.
"1st Lt Chris Campbell, USMC, 2520500470, F/A 181 Black Wasp. I substituted the Serial Number for my DOD No. considering we haven't used Serial Numbers since 1974.
"Alright Lt, follow me. I'm Wing Commander Wilcke, after this engagement, follow us back to our base and we'll have a chat about the friendly fire incident..." The Wing Commander laced the end of her sentence with venom.
"Roger." I growled, the bitch had shot first, she started it.
Never the less, she rolled up and over me, taking pole position in our makeshift flight.
"Fuck." I said over the radio, "Enemy behind us."
"Roger." Wilcke replied, "let's start a Defensive Spiral."
An enemy aircraft had closed to within firing distance behind us but luckily we had at least 15,000 feet of altitude to play, the goals of a Defensive Spiral are that you want to: (a) disrupt the enemy's aim, (b) escape, and (c) if possible, reverse the situation.
Both of us roll to an inverted position. I Pull back on the stick to start the dive and she- well, I don't know of those machines of her legs work or how she steers with them. I determine the position of our attacker, behind us, our left. We both begin rolling toward the attacker. In other words, if he's to your left, push the stick to the left. As we both build speed, cut power to idle and I extend my airbrake. The attacker follows me and Wilcke down, at this point he overshoots and allows us to take a shot.
The BRRT of the M61 is not only accompanied by me muttering "Guns, Guns, Guns." But also by the spluttering of the Redhead's MG.
Our rounds stay true and the enemy is ripped apart.
"Good hits, Good hits."
We both roll over, looking for more targets.
Our little rotte screamed in for an intercept of 4 enemy aircraft chasing 3 of the women, I fire an AMRAAM just before getting too close to, the little shits seem to have learnt to turn in to try and avoid my missiles.
Too bad the AMRAAM just corrects itself and slams into him. Dipshit.
I switch to my Sidewinders and fire 2 of those off, both hitting their respective targets and Wilcke gets the last one with her MG.
"Good Shooting." I complement her.
I get a response in the form of stony silence, well fuck you to ya stuck up bitch.
And then the world turns into fire and brimstone as No. 2 engine bursts into flames as a laser flies through it, decompressing the continuous explosion that is the Turbofan and igniting the fuel tank above the engine
I roll the aircraft inverted and fling it down, gunning for speed to put the fire out while also pressing the button labelled 'Don't fucking use, or I'll kill you and fuck the body.' Probably from my Crew Chief, I almost punch the button, feeling a mixture of happiness and amazement that he DOES really care about me enough to warn me in advance.
The moment the button was pressed, a mix of Carbon Dioxide and Monoammonium phosphate foam is dumped into the engine, extinguishing the fire raging inside but also making the engine unusable and irreparable without a large overhaul.
I also dump the fuel in the alight fuel tank, effectively putting it out.
I'm not really paying attention though I'm looking at my hands.
They're covered in blood, turns out I'm bleeding fucking badly, I got hit by the shrapnel from the explosion, it's a good thing I'm a 20 something year old man, full of testosterone and adrenaline.
The Adrenaline was probably nulling the pain, but it still fucking hurt.
I was reaching the edge of the fur-ball, well you couldn't call it a fur-ball anymore, the women had pretty much moped up everything.
"Wilcke." I croak, "I've been hit, and I'm injured, bad, I need a place to put down."
"Roger." She says passively, as if I didn't save her fucking life. "Your best bet is to put down at Magliocco Aerodrome." I grunt in response and she continues to talk, "two of my girls will escort you there, Miyafuji and Lynnette…" I kind of phase out of the conversation at this point, too invested in trying to rip the first aid kit open while flying a damaged jet, from the corner of my eyes I see two of the women float down beside me. Once I'd successfully ripped it open, I started bandaging myself, it's hard, mainly due to the shrapnel being peppered all over my body so there's no main wound, I main just wrap my bandages around my legs and waist. I don't use the morphine though; the pain will keep me awake and alert.
By the time I'm done my cockpit is pretty much covered in blood and I'm apparently half way there.
"Hey." I call over the radio "I'm having trouble concentrating here, you know, staying awake, could we, could we talk?"
A moment later I get a reply "Um… I suppose."
"Who are you?"
The girl on my left beams at me "I'm Miyafuji Yoshika!"
The girl on my right, "I'm Lynette Bishop." She acted nervously.
"I'm Chris Campbell, USMC." I gasp, it's getting hard to breath now, might be something to do my oxygen, might have something to do with my lungs, I don't know but I compensate for both by lowering my bird's nose, I'm at around 8000ft now.
"So, if you don't mind me asking, what are you?" I got a confused question like "What do you mean?" from one of them, I'm not really paying attention to who is talking, just listening to the voice, keeping me awake.
"Well, I've never seen an outfit like you, and defiantly never seen the machines on your legs."
"Well." Miyafuji says cheerfully, "They're called striker units they're a mix of Mechanical and Magical technology and they allow us to take flight and fight the Neuroi."
"Wait, Wait, Wait, Magic, like Wizards, Warlocks and Witches? And what are Neuroi?"
This continues for some time, I ask questions and she answers, she talks about her home, her experiences among other things, I'm half convinced she's a hallucination, but I don't stop until the airfield comes into view, the way she's happy to talk about it suggested that it was therapeutic for her.
Luckily for me, the runway is nice concrete and the squeak of the tires is the only real opposition I get during the landing.
I slump back and close my eyes, my hand slips around the canopy release
I'm interrupted in my sleep by a blinding blue light.
"Heh," I mutter, I thought when I go to heaven there's a white light…
XXX
Phew, that was a challenge to write, I would've written more of the dogfight but I'm on a time limit, so sorry about that and I was kinda pushing my limit at the end. I apologise for any spelling mistakes.
EDIT: Corrected some spelling mistakes, currently working on chapter 2, apolgies if this sets of your follow thingys.
