Hello everyone, glad you're reading! Sorry about the shortness of the foreword but to be honest, nothing's really been going on except that having to refresh my swimming skills on account of all the April showers. All I can say is that we'd better have on hell of a beautiful May when it comes along. Anyway, onto the story.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.

Chapter 4: Into the Wild Blue Yonder

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The sound of of a trumpet blasting through the base's PA system was the only warning Bertram had. Choosing to ignore the noise wasn't the smartest move as two minutes later Reyson all but kicked the door open and tossed the cot (with Bertram still in it) over and began yelling in a drill instructor tone of voice.

"Get your lazy ass out of bed Lieutenant de Launces! You think just because you were in combat three days ago and that your brother was wounded is an excuse to sleep in?! We are at WAR pilot! W-A-R! And war does not premit slackers and slugabeds. You are a squadron leader and all squadron leaders rise with their squadrons and the sun! Do I make myself clear?!"

Bertram dragged himself to his feet and hastily saluted Reyson. Immediately Reyson calmed down and nodded with a stoic expression.

"Just be thankful it's me you share officer's quarters with and not Fredericks or Gaspard. Those guys would neuter you for daring to sleep in during a time of war. I may be a Flight Commander but that means shit here. Anyway, let me guess, you were either so excited about getting your squadron today that you didn't get any sleep or you were worried about Nick?" Bertram lowered his hand and went to his clothes he had laid out last night.

"Both actually. Reyson, I just can't stop thinking about it. Nick's my older brother and I thought him invincible; but seeing him in that hospital bed with more stitches in him than a ragdoll makes me wonder. I know we're officially at war but it doesn't seem real." Reyson nodded.

"I know the feeling. Back when Dalon went bananas and waged war against Syllia and Avalon, we didn't have any warning then either. To be honest, if it wasn't for Gerald, we wouldn't have figured out anything until it was too late. As for feeling invincible, let me tell you something now. No one is 'invincible'. I learned that the hard way watching father try to adapt to living in a wheelchair. He was so vibrant and full of life before that wound...er, not to say the old man slowed down because of it. Still, he was Jonathan 'The Hammer' Havvers, the greatest fighter in Syllia. He is the only man alive to have pinned a dragon in hand to paw combat, and he was a hero in the Straits War, the Federation War, and the Southlands Conflict. I still can't believe it sometimes, all the things he did in life, and all the things he'd yet to do."

Reyson looked outside for a moment then sighed.

"Well, no use mourning those long dead and buried. Come on, most of your squadron's assembled and waiting your introduction." Bertram looked at Reyson curiously.

"Most of them?"

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Bertram and Reyson stood before the four members of his squadron assembled. Of course there was Michijo Ayatane and Jake Havvers, both of them now wearing the rank of Sergeant, next to Jake was the tail gunner who had flown with him in Sanijo, Daniel Briggs who had the rank of corporal on his coat. The newest member wore the uniform of a Northumbrian Air Guard (another protectorate branch of the RAF). Upon seeing Bertram, he sharply saluted and spoke with a thick accent.

"Good morning Lieutenant. Airman First Class Ivan Volgna, reporting and ready for duty, sir!" Bertram returned the salute and nodded.

"Airman Volgna. I assume you are aware of the current situation?" Ivan nodded.

"Yes, sir. I was with my old squadron performing our mountain survival training on Mount Dolg when we heard the news. I knew that mainland Syllian squadrons stood the best chances for seeing combat so I applied for an immediate transfer." Bertram chuckled uneasily.

"Well Ivan, may I call you Ivan? Anyway, Ivan, the only combat this squadron has seen so far was the attack on Sanijo. I honestly have no idea what we'll be doing next. I assume however since we're at the Royalis Flight Academy we'll conclude our training." Ivan laughed at this.

"I know Lieutenant, my training is almost done as well. I'm simply here to complete my flight training, get to know who I'll be flying with, and then once training is done, we engage the cowardly Rotiart dogs in honorable battle. Uh, by the way, where is rest of squadron?" Reyson coughed and looked to the eastern skies.

"I believe three of them are flying in now." Bertram turned to where Reyson was looking and his jaw hit the floor.

There, coming out of the clouds, were two planes. Neither of them was painted Syllian blue nor had Syllian emblems. The first plane was a single engine aircraft painted in dark green, had the identification tag: 'LF-S5', and on the left wing and fuselage bore an emblem Bertram had never seen before: a tan inverted triangle with a dark blue inverted triangle within. The second plane was a twin engine aircraft painted silver with a blue nose and tail section, its tag was: 'FG-8C', and on its left wing and fuselage was a purple outlined triangle with a split gold and green inside. Bertram heard Ayatane gasp as the planes turned for their final approaches.

"T-This can't be. Commander, are these planes from outside of Syllia?" Reyson nodded.

"Indeed Ayatane, I guess at least one of my students was paying attention to the fighter identification part of the class. The first plane is a D109 from the Espan Army Aerocorps. The second is an Int63/11 from the Anoziran Armée de l' Air. They came at the request of their nations as an act of goodwill and, strange as it may sound, they are volunteers from neutral countries who wish to...how did they put it? 'Step the tide of injustice and oppression from a hostile invading force'. Rest assured they are not the only ones. We have over three hundred pilots from Anozira, Espan, and Praetoria who seek to aid us in helping the Federation. These two will be assigned to your squadron.

As the planes landed, rolled for a ways and finally stopped, the canopy of the first plane flew open and out jumped a young pilot the same age a Bertram or perhaps a years younger. He leapt from the wing, patted the plane lovingly, and then came towards them and waited for his comrade who was busy swearing a blue streak while trying to unfasten his flight harness. His tail gunner was busy trying to help him. Finally he was unhooked and he and his gunner came forward next to the Espan pilot and saluted. The Espan pilot stepped forward, evidently wanting to introduce himself first.

"Lieutenant. I am Airman Second Class Isaac Miller, formerly of the 3478 Squadron in the Espan Army Aerocorps. I look forward to working with you all." As Isaac moved to take a place beside Ivan, the two from Anozira stepped forward. The pilot removed the cigar from his mouth and spoke for both.

"Sir. Name's Alton Mitchell, I'm a Staff Sergeant with the Anoziran Armée de l' Air. This one here is my twin brother Thomas. He's an Airman Third Class and tailgunner for our plane. Doesn't talk much unless you address him directly but there's no better shot in the Armée de l' Air. Pleasure to work with the son of the father of modern aviation." Bertram nodded as the brothers went to stand by Issac who rolled his eyes, apparently used to the brothers. Reyson chuckled as they lined up.

"Well that takes care of most of your squadron, now where are the other two?" Bertram looked at the line of pilots and gunners before him before looking at Reyson curiously.

"I thought I had the maximum number for a squadron." Reyson nodded.

"Under peace time situations you would, but as you said we are at war. Ah ha! There they come now."

Bertram and the squadron turned and everyone went slackjawed by what they saw. Coming towards them were two women, a female wolf and cheetah. They were dressed in Syllian uniform and saluted to Reyson and Bertram. Reyson chuckled at bertram's shock and stepped forward.

"Bertram, as you are no doubt aware, Avalon is no longer the land it once was. The relationship with your father and your sister as ambassador has all but ensured Avalon is brought into the new era. These two fine women are the first of several volunteers who wish to learn how to fly a plane for Avalon. Ladies, please introduce yourselves and don't mind their slackjawed expressions." As Reyson stepped back, the cheetah stepped forward and inclined her head gracefully.

"Greetings, Lieutenant Bertram. I am Sahna Medowl of the Avalon cheetah race. I suppose my rank would be that of 'Airman'. Is that right?" The question she posed to Reyson who nodded. Then came the wolf who spoke in far more assertive tones.

"Name's Kani Fenn of Avalon's wolf race. Same as the cat here, I'm an Airman but don't go thinking all I am is a pretty face. I may not have been flying but I was also at Sanijo during the attack. I was on the ground crew shooting an MG20H. Lieutenant, you lead us into an honorable battle and you and me will get along just fine." Reyson coughed in his throat to get her attention before smiling and saluting Bertram.

"No doubt you have questions so I'll make this short. Your squadron will be tasked with deploying anywhere and at anytime we need you. It may be for overland details, you may have to swap out your land legs for sea legs and fly missions off of a carrier. Your squadron is yours to designate and name but as for your duties, we need a lot of aces right now and you lot are the only ones with one iota of combat experience. I expect all of you to be squared away by the end of the week as your deployment is being pushed up." Reyson paused as a messanger came running towards him, handed him a note and then ran back to his posting. Reyson looked at the note, sighed, then placed it in his pocket.

"I've just been informed that the Rotiart Air Aggressor Force has begun round the clock bombing of the Federation captial city of Retorinc. You and several other squadrons will be stationed at Chamberlain Federal Airport and fly interceptor missions over the capital. The frontline is only two hundred miles from Retorinc now so the leaders of the Federation have pulled back to Chamberlain as well. You'll be flying alongside the elites of the Federal Air Force. These are men and women who flew in the Callinar Incursion and who have been patrolling the border with Rotiart since then. Now then, before you ask, both Airman Fenn and Airman Medowl have been trained and issued P-29s. If memory serves that brings your planes to: four P-29s, two P-21s, one D109, one Int63/11." Bertram looked at Reyson confused.

"Two P-21s? I thought Jake was our only P-21 pilot." Reyson nodded.

"He was until Corporal Volgna came along. According to reports, Volgna's P-21 has no tail gun so its just him up there. Don't worry though, his superiors from his previous squadron assured me he was one of the best pilots they had for the P-21. Now then, all that's left is your squadron number, insignia, and your call-signs. As you know, the 'Gold' callsign is only used for nuggets. You'll have to come up with your own. Bertram, I want these things as soon as possible that way we can finish your planes." Bertram looked at him curiously.

"You mean we're getting new planes?" Reyson laughed.

"That's right, you're getting four new P-29s and two new P-21s. The planes from Espan and Anozira are already new so that's really that. Remember though: as soon as possible."

At that moment, a spluttering noise was heard. Looking up, Bertram saw a sight that made his eyes go wide, nor was he the only one. A Syllian HB-32 Heavy Bomber, with one engine on fire and smoking, was coming down onto the landing field. At that moment, a screaming noise was heard and Bertram watched in horror as Rotiart planes plummeted out of the clouds and opened fire on the bomber.

The bomber's turrets opened fire, the base defences opened fire, Reyson looked on in disbelief as the planes strafed the bomber and then pitched up again to escape the AA fire. The bomber's engines seized and it dropped, landing hard and buckling the landing gear. As the plane skidded to a halt, the crew leapt from the plane moments before the fuel tanks exploded. The HB-32, the most heavily armed and armored bomber in the RAF, was reduced to a pile of twisted metal. Shock and disbelief turned to anger as Reyson turned back to Bertram.

"Cheeky bastards! Bertram, get your squadron to their planes! I need you in the air now!"

Not even bothering to salute, Bertram turned to his squadron only to see them already running for their planes. Bertram shook his head and made a bee line for his.

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Moments later, Bertram and his squadron were airborne. Airman Miller used his plane's maneuverability to get behind one of the Rotiart fighters and blast him at short range with the four heavy manchineguns built into the wings. Unlike the lightly armored planes over Sanijo, this one took the bullets and kept going. Bertram heard Miller curse through the radio.

"Shit! These planes are built good. My targets hit and trailing smoke but it appears I have company. Would someone mind finishing the poor bastard off?"

At that moment, in came Ivan Volgna who went wild on the wounded plane. His ten machineguns in the nose of his P-21 shredded what was left of the plane's armor and the right wing shattered, broke from the fuselage, and the plane spun downward and cratered the ground not twenty feet from the burning bomber. Bertram got on the radio once he saw this.

"That's it guys! The only way to bring these buzzards down is to overwhelm them with bullets. Two planes in support of each other attacking one target. Ayatane, stick with Jake, Ivan, you're with me. Miller, support the Mitchell brothers. Medowl, Fenn, stick close and support each other. Alright everyone, get to your buddies and let's take these guys to town!"

The squadron broke away and took positions by their wingmen. Sure enough Bertram's tactics worked, with Jake, Ivan, and the Mitchell brothers softening up the enemy and Him, Ayatane, and Miller finishing them off. Sahna and Kani worked well together launching attacks on either side of one plane's wings until their tracers intersected and shredded the enemy plane like a, ahem, cat's claws.

The younger Mitchell brother, Thomas, and Jake's tailgunner Briggs worked feverishly with their tailguns. Apparently the enemy did not expect these agile fighters to have tailguns and broke off their attacks the second tracers struck the engine cowling. With Ivan not having a tailgunner however, Bertram had to step in, climbing above the enemy, diving, and dealing punishing damage from above should an enemy get behind Ivan's plane.

Once or twice, Bertram was sure his bullets went through the glass canopy and stained the enemy interior red with the pilot's brains. These planes were actually low enough to the ground that when they hit the soft grass, rather than explode violently, they skidded to a stop, damaged, but intact.

The sight of tracers flying by told him he had an enemy behind him. Bertram jerked the stick right then pulled back to do a quick rolling turn. The plane was going too fast to turn with him and flew straight past; straight into Sahna and Kani's guns. Both pilots opened fire and shredded the plane.

"Oh yeah! First kill for the cheetah clan!"

"Back off you overgrown plains runner! It was MY bullets that went through the wing!"

"Yeah but MINE went through the canopy, tailchaser!"

At that moment, Ivan decided to speak.

"Ladies, there is no need to fight. We'll chalk you both up for a half a kill. How does that sound?"

"Buzz of snowman! We didn't ask you!" Bertram keyed the mike.

"Ivan, one thing I learned from my brothers is never get between two women. Anyway we still have enemies up here. Reyson! Are we the only planes up are do we have reinforcements coming?"

"That's a negative! Radar indicates enemy is retreating. I wonder why they pursued a bomber all the way here though. Get your squadron landed so we can see about these planes you shot down and see about the bomber crew."

"Copy that. All planes begin landing procedures."

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(thirty minutes later)

Bertram's plane was the last to land and he used the rudder to park the plane alongside Miller's plane and then stopped the engine. The large three-bladed propellor slowed as it's centrifugal force was expended. He popped the hatch to the canopy, climbed out onto the wing, then jumped down and let the mechanics take a look at any damage the plane took in the skirmish. Bertram found his squadron in the crew quarters waiting for him. Reyson stood beside a man wearing the leather jacket of the RAF Bomber Corps, the rank of Lieutenant Colonel on his lapels. He looked aged but had a gentle demeanor, his light brown hair was cut short and he held a taciturn expression as Bertram entered. Reyson nodded and waved a hand in front of him.

"Bertram, gentlemen, ladies, allow me to introduce you to Lieutenant Colonel Tom Hartwig. He was one of the first volunteers of the bomber corps and is one of the finest pilots I've ever taught. Just as well considering all the grief he gave me in training." Hartwig chuckled at that and looked at Reyson.

"C'mon Rey, you still ain't sore about me nearly flying us into the forest on the first training run?" Reyson chuckled recalling the event.

"There's that, but right now I want to know what the Hell happened to you; I thought you were with the 12th Bomber Group assigned to bomb Rotiart?" Hartwig nodded, his expresion becoming downcast.

"That's right Rey, and I have to report that any overhead bombing campaign of Rotiart is impossible. Out of the three hundred bombers we sent against them, we're the only ones that made it back in one piece. The others are all scattered from here to Shadowfell. You saw how doggedly those bastards pursued us? We dropped our bombs on target but no sooner were we turning when enemy planes fell on us from the sky and flak guns opened up from below. Our HB-32s held for a while but under all the fire they were pouring on us we just couldn't take them all down. If I had to hazzard a guess, I'd say they've easily as many planes as Syllia, maybe more. Their air power is frightening."

At that moment, the door came open and the officer over the mechanics stepped in, a stoic look on his face.

"It's no wonder the bastards brought down your bomber Hartwig, these bastards have ten millimeter cannons instead of machineguns. Thankfully they only have two of them but their still more powerful than what we have at the moment. Bertram, with your permission, I'll have the mechanic assigned to your squadron take the cannons out of the captured enemy fighters and install them into your planes. There are enough of the cannons intact that we can outfit each plane with two. Since you're going to Tellanos to face them on the front line you'll need all the help you can get." Bertram remembered that his plane barely made a dent against the enemy and nodded.

"Remove the inner machineguns on the planes and fix the cannons to them. I also want enough ammunition so that the cannons can fire for a while. I have a feeling we'll be needing them." The officer saluted and exited the room. Meanwhile, Reyson looked at Bertram for a moment then chuckled.

"You know what Bertram? I think I have an idea for your squadron number. During the Avalon conflict, there was a squadron of pilots like you all I had the honor to fly with. They were not mentioned in the tabloids at home because of the missions they undertook. Unfortunately, none of them are alive today. Three were killed in combat, two were killed in peacetime air accidents, and the last was murdered in the streets of Laevatain ten years ago. Despite your differences, the different places you all come from, you banded together to repel the enemy just like the squadron before you. Therefore, I hereby have the honor of giving you the designation Squadron Two-Four-Two. Do you accept it?"

Bertram thought for a moment. Normally it was the squadron leader's duty and honor of designating the squadron. It was almost like naming your firstborn child. Still, Reyson did say that the 242 Squadron served with honor and distinction, despite they were almost completely unknown. In a way, considering the situation, that might actually be a good thing. Bertram looked Reyson in the eyes and nodded.

"On one condition, my squadron chooses their own callsigns. Although, I have a few ideas for some of them." Immediately, Miller spoke up.

"No need to worry about my callsign Lieutenant. I am known in my homeland as 'Rapier'." Mitchell chuckled.

"Yeah because you're often sharp and to the point eh? No matter. Anyway, mine's 'Mace' because you won't find anyone else who hits harder than me." Ayatane rolled his eyes and looked at Bertram.

"You already know my callsign but for the record, I am 'Hayate'." Jake chuckled good-natured at the new arrivals confusion.

"Hayate is kanji for 'hurricane' in the Blue Isles. Anyway, I also picked mine already." Jake looked at his father who in turn looked at him curiously. Mustering courage, Jake turned to Bertram and Reyson.

"My callsign's 'Hammer', for my grandfather." Reyson went wide-eyed for a moment, then took a dep breath and nodded.

"The name suits you Jake. I know you'll do the old man proud. Alright, Bertram you said you had some ideas for our new members, well let's hear them." Bertram nodded and looked at Ivan, Sahna, and Kani.

"I got the idea from that radio burst you three entertained us with. Ivan, how do you like the callsign 'Snowman'?" Ivan thought for a moment, then laughed and clapped his hands together.

"I like it. It's better than what I was going to say anyway. Snowman it is and a very fitting one to as I'm from Northumbria." Sahna and Kani glared daggers at Bertram.

"You better not think of calling us tailchaser or plains runner! If you do, officer or not, you're name'll be 'Mud'!" Bertram laughed for a moment then shook his head.

"Nothing as offensive, I assure you. Although Kani, with yours why not keep it? Just drop the 'tail' part of it and become 'Chaser'? Few things a pilot hates worse than an enemy who simply won't give up the chase." Kani thought for a moment, then gave Bertram a big grin.

"I like it! I'll bet it's a lot better than whatever you give the furball here." Sahna looked at Kani crossly, then looked at Bertram pleadingly. Bertram calmly raised his hand to stave off the plea.

"It's alright Sahna, I have one for you as well. Since the cheetahs primarily use bows for hunting, how about 'Archer'?"

Sahna stood for a moment, staring at Bertram, then, to the shock of Bertram, she sprang forward and threw her arms around his neck, much to Kani's shock.

"Bertram thank you! Thank you so much!" I-I was never able to master the bow because back home. By naming me Archer, you have given me the greatest honor anyone has ever bestowed upon me. Thank you!" Bertram laughed weakly.

"I-I get it you thank me. Heh, now could you please let go? I-I can't breathe." Sahna quickly got up as blush of embarassment spread across her face.

"S-Sorry. I-I mean sorry, Lieutenant." The rest of the squadron burst out laughing at this as Bertram grinned. Reyson laughed as well and looked between Bertram and Sahna.

"Hah. You two do know that dating squadron members is against every regulation in the book, not to mention the reg about officers and enlisted." Bertram and Sahna both blushed and Reyson laughed louder.

"Not that it's any of my buisness what my officers do. Their squadrons are their buisness, not mine. What do I care if a de Launces dragon wants to date a cheetah?"

Reyson began laughing again as he walked towards the squadron board and began writing. Bertram Looked at the board and saw Reyson finish writing the squadron member's names, callsigns, and the new squadron number.

"All jokes aside, I'll have it made official. The Two-Four-Two Squadron is hereby made operational and I hereby issue them their first orders: once the planes are repaired, painted, and modified, you will be flying to the Tellanos Federation city of Chamberlain. Once there you are ordered to assist the Federal Air Force by any means neccesary. Your rules of engagement are any and all aircraft and targets of opportunity that bear the emblem of the Rotiart military. Furthermore, while there, you are delegates of Syllia, you are to obey the orders of the Federation command within reason. Do not under any circumstances, leave the air space of Chamberlain to pursue kill scores. Your duty is to protect the city. If I hear about anyone forsaking their duty to further their kill scores and rank standing, I will personally skin them. Do you get me?!"

Bertram and the squadron snapped to attention and as one saluted Reyson.

"We get you sir!" Reyson nodded and returned the salute.

"Lieutenant de Launces, take your squadron to the barracks and grab your personal effects, then go to the ready room until you are called to deploy. That is all. Dismissed!"

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(meanwhile at the Dracocorps field)

James ducked as Zakwel shot another bolt of lightning angrily at the Rotiart plane that had crashed in the Dracocorps field. The pilot had survived and had since been hauled away by the MPs. The Dracocorps had heard the gunfire and the air raid siren and then out of nowhere, a plane comes in and attempts to strafe the dragons on the ground. A timely lightningbolt from Zakwel took care of the problem, but Zakwel was still furious, and so were all the dragons as a matter of fact. Zakwel took a deep breath and turned his gaze to James, his brother-in-law.

"James, why can't we fight?! You know as well as I that there is no keeping a fighting dragon or dragoness out of the air! Why didn't you let us take off?!" James sighed sadly; this wasn't the first time he'd heard the arguement from Zakwel but this time they were at war. James looked to Zakwel and then to the gathered dragons around him.

"You all know the reason, no dragon, no matter how swift, can outrun a manchine capable of going three to four hundred miles per hour. Even the fastest dragon here can barely break two-hundred and that's with a tail wind. I've been working on a way to get the Dracocorps back into the fray but until I find something I'm afraid my hands are tied."

Zakwel glumly looked at his paws. Twenty years ago he would never have shown his emotions so openly. Once James had earned his trust and even more so when him being of dragon descent was amde public, Zakwel had come to see him more and more as a brother.

"Brother, you built the Dragon Carriers, you modernized the entire military. Yet all you have given us is reasons why we cannot fight yet. If not now then when? Damn it James answer me! While this war goes on, the Dracocorps is getting rusty, fat, and lazy! Do you think we want this? It's as if Syllia is saying it doesn't need us anymore!" James looked up at him and sighed.

"Okay, okay I get it. Let me think...Well, the Dracocorps can still provide close air support to the ground forces, then there is also naval engagements against non-carrier fleets, then there is a matter I've been investigating but so far I've not found anything about it." Zakwel looked at him, his curiousity peaked.

"What investigation?"

"There was a report from a Federation bomber unit that managed somehow to reach the Rotiart capital of Shadowfell and bomb it. However, according to the radio report, the pilot and co-pilot immediately noticed several winged creatures attacking the bomber. We don't know what happened to the crew but it is assumed the bomber was lost. The creatures described sounded like...dread griffons." Zakwel's eyes went wide and then he snarled.

"Dread Griffons?! Those egg stealing, hatchling eating, feathered freaks still live?! I thought they were extinct!" James nodded.

"So did I until I read the report. It seems that Rotiart doesn't just keep a dread griffon on their flag as a source of pride for their lost empire, they seem to have been guarding a last refuge for griffons to breed, live, and grow. An agent with the Royal Intelligence Corps has been investigating the matter for me and he seems to confirm it. Rotiart has built a mockery of our Dracocorps called the Griffon Corps. However, griffons haven't been seen in the Federation yet so either they are too few in number and wish to stay home or they are simply biding their time. Worst case scenario, they are simply biding their time and once the Federation is out of the way they will fall upon us like water upon rock."

Zakwel looked at James and dropped his voice to barely above a whisper. Thankfully no other dragons had heard his outburst otherwise the entire dragon populace of Syllia would cry bloody murder and likely wing it for Rotiart to end the griffon threat once and for all. Still, Zakwel had a thought and lowered his head.

"James, is this the reason you've held us in reserve?" James nodded.

"Yes, I've also instructed Voltaris and Titanus to order all hatcheries on the west coast and border moved east as quickly as possible. Under the guise of a standard evacuation plan, I've also ordered the western dragon cities to begin evacuating. Only the Dracocorps remain in the west. If this Griffon Corps comes here, we will need the Dracocorps and indeed all dragons at full strength. You say the dragons are getting fat and lazy? So be it. Skylord Zakwel, I am hereby issueing an order to be followed to the letter. While the Dracocorps cannot engage enemy aircraft, they are to prepare for training in the areas I've specified, furthermore, all dragons are to perform a mandatory fitness training excersise everyday until the war either comes to our doorstep or it ends."

"Or the griffons arrive."

James nodded sternly. He gazed to the west and hoped that his informant was alright. If the griffons arrived in Tellanos and swooped into Syllia, the enemy would awaken a rage the likes of which the world had not seen in ten or more generations. Dragons had long memories and the atrocities commited by the griffons centuries before was ingrained into the dragon blood. The dragons would not hesitate to kill each and every griffon possible.

For the griffons were the same and, given the chance, they would gladly see the dragon race into extinction.

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Okay, chapter four is up and done. For the record, griffons are awesome and I like them I just needed an antagonist for the Dracocorps so that they will be placed throughout the story. Well, I used the term Dread Griffons to symbolize they are not like regular griffons. Anyway, enough about griffons. As always, please review and tell me how I did.

Uses force persuade: You will review the story.

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Sorry; two-week long KotOR bender. The classics never die.

As a history note: the 242 Squadron was a Canadian RAF squadron stationed in England during WWII. It was under the command of Douglas Bader, one of Britain's greatest aces during the Battle of Britain. What made Bader so special was that he suffered a plane crash around 1925 in which he lost both his legs. He flew a Hurricane and later a Spitfire using prosthetic tin legs.

Later he was shot down over Germany but was forced to leave one of his legs in his plane. Goering later authorized a British airdrop of an extra leg for Bader. Once he got his leg, it led to an almost maddening number of escape attempts until his German POW camp commander threatened to take away his legs. He was eventually transferred to Colditz where he remained for the rest of the war. At war's end he returned to England and was given a hero's welcome.

When Bader was placed in command of 242 in 1940, it was rated as one of the worst squadrons in the RAF. By the time Bader himself became an ace, 242 was among the best.

Anyway, part 2 of the tech guide is also up if you guys want to check it out and as always, ya'll take care and have a blessed day. Also, advanced heads up, there will be a split in the story next chapter. I will post the choice in the form of a poll once chapter 5 is posted.

Next chapter: Task Force E-15 Deployed, 242: Scramble!