Okay everyone! Here is what you voted on! By one vote, this chapter will be focusing on the Tellanos Front. I thank all of you for reading the story and also I thank those who voted for their time. Now then, onto the show!

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

Chapter 6: Crimson Skies

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(Fifty Miles outside Retorinc, one hour after scramble order issued)

The altimeter read ten-thousand feet and was holding steady despite the buffeting winds. Bertram again looked to the left and then right, picking out his squadron from among the dozens upon dozens of Syllian and Tellanian aircraft. Chamberlain wasn't the only air base that recieved the scramble order. The air bases at Tovas, Gregori, Calpernis, and Fodern had sent every available aircraft they could and they had been joining the force two or three squadrons at a time until they numbered roughly two-hundred fifty if Bertram's eyes were right.

The commander of the force, Major Dimitri Fastov, came over the radio, his thick accent almost making what he said incomprehensible.

"Comrades! We are closing on the Capital of Retorinc! I want all planes to make sure your guns are armed and ready to fire at a moment's notice. We are about to be joined by Retorinc's own Air Squadron. They also have several bombers that have been modified to serve as gunships; these planes will serve as flying fortresses and will help us engage the enemy bombers. Two-Four-Two, proceed ahead with One-Six-Six, One-Six-Seven, and One-Seven-Four Squadrons and check for the enemy vanguard. If the intel is right, we should be seeing the enemy in about ten minutes." Bertram keyed the mike and angled his plane out of the formation.

"Two-Four-Two roger. Proceeding to Air Grid Two-Seven-Seven."

"Two-Four-Two Squadron this is Retorinc Air Control, we have multiple targets on radar, they appear to be sixty miles out and closing. Reports from the Twenty-First Armored also indicate the enemy has moved three of their railguns closer to the city for bombardment. If any of your planes have bombs, we would be glad to see those cannons cratered."

"Paladin copies. Rapier, Mace, you two have bombs, Hayate, Snowman, you two have rockets, right? You four break off and take out those cannons, the rest of us will stay here and fight off the bombers and keep the fighters occupied. Hayate, you have the command of the group. Bring them back safely."

"Hayate copies. Taking formation lead. Good hunting!"

As the four planes broke off and flew towards the coordinates stated, Bertram looked up into the sky. Cloud cover was thick but the sun was shining. Remembering a trick Reyson told him, he flipped down the yellow-tinted monocle he had fixed to his goggles and looked in the same place. Where once there was nothing but clouds and glare, Bertram could now make out several dozen airplanes at high altitude. He knew that Tellanos only had their two engine PHB22's up at the moment and these aircraft were far bigger. The entire enemy formation was made of large four engine bombers, and despite what they had been told, the sky buzzed with single and double engine fighters.

"All planes, enemy above! Bombers and fighter escorts! Everyone, engage! Two-Four-Two, let's hope these cannons do their jobs!"

As one, the fighter formation, pitched up and climbed towards the enemy formation which appeared to be staying at eighteen thousand feet. Bertram glanced at his altimeter and saw it pass twelve thousand feet and climb steadily. Apparently, the Rotiart bombers had belly gunners who were watching for attack from below and tracers began arcing past the incoming planes. The fighters around the lead bomber formation broke off and dived at them, guns blazing.

Bertram lined up a fighter coming at him and pressed the trigger. He watched in grim satisfaction as the cannon rounds ripped through the enemy plane's engine and tore the left wing off. He rolled to the right to miss the falling wreckage and then lined up another plane, fired, and dropped that one as well. Next to him, Jake opened fire, his rounds shredding the enemy before him.

Three more enemy fighter engaged him, as Bertram engaged one that overshot, two Tellanos fighters from One-Six-Six Squadron chased off the others. A moment later, the radio keyed on.

"This is Anvil One to Paladin, are you all right sir?"

"Paladin to Anvil One, thanks for the assist."

"Anytime sir. One-Six-Six and One-Six-Seven will take care of these gnats, please take your squadron and engage the bombers. The civilians in Retorinc haven't yet completely evacuated."

"Copy that. Everyone else hear that? Civilians are still in danger in the capital, engage the bombers so they have a chance to flee!"

"This is Chaser, I was about to suggest the exact same thing if you weren't. I'm already behind one of these behemoths."

Bertram looked up and saw Kani's plane angled behind one of the larger bombers and she was peppering it with shot but to seemingly no effect. Her rounds had shredded the right side of the bomber's split rudder and peppered the top section of the fuselage but otherwise were doing little to no damage.

"Chaser! The bombers are too big to take down shooting the fuselage like that! Line up behind the engines or strafe the cockpit from above or below!" Her reply was acidic at best.

"I'm trying but every time I try to climb or dive, their gunners bracket me! These guys are worse than a bad case of fleas!"

"Hold on, I'm coming."

Bertram angled the nose up and lined up with the bomber Kani was aiming at and opened fire. He misjudged the speed however and the bullets missed the cockpit and instead riddled the underbelly. Kani was quick with her 'praise'.

"I thought you said you'd stike the coc-"

She didn't finish what she was saying as a detonation from inside the bomber's ordnance bay ripped the plane apart, sending shrapnel into the nearby bombers to the left and right of it, including sending one of its left wing propellors through the cockpit of the lead bomber in another formation. That one explosion had just downed three bombers and disabled four more! A Federation pilot who was engaging the bombers further back came over the radio with a whoop and a congradulations, then went right back to work. Bertram was now alongside Kani and could see her slackjawed expression. He smiled and keyed the radio.

"Well I guess that's one way to skin a cat."

"WHAT?!"

Bertram cringed as Sahna's voice came over his headset, drowning out Kani's laughter at the poor choice of phrase. Bertram quickly amended his phase and then, still blushing, engaged the formation of bombers he had 'decapitated'.

(Somehow, I know I'm not going to hear the end of this...), he thought as he lined up another shot, this time striking the cockpit and watching this now unpiloted bomber careen into the flight path of another bomber.

Suddenly, tracers flew by his cockpit as a Rotiart fighter plunged down at him. Rolling at the last second, Bertram dodged a second volley and wheeled about managing to engage the enemy plane. Looking on the fuselage of the plane, Bertram made out its ID number: RS2-15A. He could also see there were forty-seven score marks under the canopy. He immediately recognized the ID number as well as the kill count:

He was engaged with the enemy pilot who had given Reyson trouble over Sanijo: Lieutenant Dieter Muntz.

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(meanwhile on another part of the battlefield)

Ayatane grimaced and let loose a tirade of curse words that would have made a sailor blush as he shot down yet another enemy fighter. Though they were at the spot where they the railguns were supposed to be, all he and his group had found was wing upon wing of enemy planes and they were quickly enveloped in the dogfight over the Federation and Rotiart forces below.

Though they were assisted by other Federation Squadrons, the 305th and the 211th, they were still slugging their way through enemy heavy interceptors. If not for the cannons installed on the planes, Ayatane seriously doubted they would have made a dent in the plane's armor. Annoyed, he lined up another and a quick burst (and a lucky hit to the engine and canopy) sent yet another enemy plane spiraling down.

"Damn! I thought our planes were built to be tough; but these Rotarian planes are built like tanks!" Miller's voice came over the radio. Apparently he, like Ayatane and the others, was highly annoyed at the resistance of the enemy's planes. At that moment, Ivan came over the radio, his normal calm attitude frayed by the constant attacks.

"For me it is not so much the enemy's endurance but their thrice damned numbers. For every one I shoot down, three rise up to take his place!"

"They are numerous because you do not have a tail gunner my friend." Came Mitchell's voice as he flew past, guns blazing. Ayatane flipped his plane into a barrel roll to prevent colliding with an enemy plane that was fly into him. as he leveled out, he saw a bright flash in the distance and a few moments later, a large artillery shell impacted the frozen ground near the Federation forces. It didn't take a genius to figure out what kind of artillery could lob a shell like that.

"Guys, I believe I've found the railguns. There is one about ten miles west of us, near that destroyed train station. I'm going in, can anyone fly on my wing?"

Miller, Mitchell, and Ivan answered negative but a reply came from the Tellanos planes.

"This is Icebrand with the Three-Zero-Five. Myself and two others will escort you to target. I also ask that you take a moment to identify the railguns you engage, intelligence believes that the Rotarian's prized railgun, codename 'Olympus', has been stationed in the area. If they lose Olympus, they will lose one of their most strategic weapons against Retorinc's walls." Ayatane huffed at the name of the railgun.

"Olympus huh? As in the ancient home of the gods of yore? I wonder who had the balls to name it that."

"According to the intel, the designer of the weapon, a Lord Otto Mechanos, named all of his special 'pet' projects. Besides Olympus, there are two smaller railguns: Sturm Wut and Rot Kaiser. These guns are the biggest threats to the capital city at the moment and must be dealt with immediately."

As Ayatane closed on the train-mounted gun he had seen fire, he caught a glimpse of a red diamond and crossed black sabers and radioed the emblem. A moment later, one of the Federation pilots came over the radio, surprise evident in his voice.

"My God! Hayate, I believe you have found the Rot Kaiser! If intel is correct, then its sister, Sturm Wut, should be nearby. However, once the Kaiser falls silent, it is likely the Rotarians will begin withdrawing their guns until the air raid is over, starting with the Olympus."

"Well we just have to be quicker then, don't we?" Ayatane took a second to look around the area where the first railgun was stationed and then saw another some fifteen miles further back at the Danislav community substation.

"I think I've found the sister. Fifteen miles back at the substation, looks like she's still being set up."

"This is Scythe, I copy you. My group is moving to engage the Sturm Wut. Hayate, you and your group engage the Rot Kaiser."

Ayatane looked around and saw a new group flying with them, the leader's plane was painted silver with red highlights and held a grim reaper like etching on the fuselage. They were accellerating towards the substation with the intent to destroy the other railgun.

Marking his target, Ayatane did a wingover and dove at the railgun, flipping the release switch on his plane at the same time. As soon as the crosshairs were over the artillery section of the train, he began flipping the fire switches to the rockets. Each rocket took off and jarred the plane slightly as it launched, a white vapor trail streaming behind them.

Five rockets impacted the railgun, destroying its baces, another went wide and collapsed the signal box onto the two locomotives, another actually struck the barrel causing it to droop, and the last one struck the ammunition car behind the gun, detonating the shells inside and sending it, and the crew car behind it, sky high. With a metallic shriek, the gun barrel buckled in half and the carriage turned over and smashed into the ground, the shell that was in the process of being loaded detonated, blowing up the breach, compressor, and buffer of the gun and creating a massive fireball.

Ayatane didn't have long to admire his handiwork however as several dozen nearby anti-air guns opened up on him and his group. He went low to strafe some of the gunners and passed by a position so closely he could see the Rotarian gunner's face. There was no question he had just pissed off the enemy and now they were out for blood. One thing that horrified him though was at the last moment, he pulled up and dodged tracers being fired from a gun emplacement on a hospital. He keyed his radio and informed his group and his wing of what he had seen.

Another explosion in the distance got his attention and Ayatane looked to see the spot where he had seen the other railgun burning as well. Smiling inwardly, he heard the announcement as well as the cheering from the Tellanian ranks. The cheering stopped when something else came over the radio.

"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is Scythe, I've come under fire from enemy AA! It's the Olympus! They're moving the Olympus along the old number seven track! Any aircraft with bombs or rockets engage them before they retreat! I repeat: the Olympus is-"

Ayatane saw a flash of light coming from where Scythe had been. Glancing over, he saw the burning wreckage of the plane falling from the sky. From the position of the large hole that had destroyed the plane, it was impossible for Scythe to have survived. He heard a Tellanian pilot mutter a prayer over the radio before turning back.

"This is Hayate, does anyone, Syllian or Tellanian have any bombs or rockets left?"

All planes who answered him did so in the negative. All ordnance had been expended. As he turned to watch the railgun slink away, he heard something over the radio.

"Attention all aircraft, I believe you all said you had a pest problem did you not?"

Ayatane immediately keyed his radio, recognizing the voice.

"Colonel Hartwig?! When did you arrive back?" Hartwig's laughter echoed for a moment as his aircraft came into sight.

"Just got back a few hours ago. My group landed at Chamberlain, didn't even have time to take a piss as we were immediately ordered back into the air as 'special support'. Now then, Hayate, what is the situation?"

Ayatane told Hartwig of the railgun that was escaping and the situation as it stood. Afterwards, Hartwig came over the radio again.

"This is the Syllian Two-One-Zero bomber wing requesting air cover from any Syllian and Tellanian fighters. We have bombs and we are making our run on the Olympus. Our gunships with us are also going to lend assistance by cratering any AA positions that reveal themselves."

At that moment, all of Hartwig's planes revealed themselves, much to the shock, and delight, of the Tellanian and Syllian forces. The 210 Bomber wing was comprised of seven Syllian HB-32 heavy bombers and three GS-28 Gunships. Hartwig's bomber, another HB-32, was in the lead and was painted in national colors but also had Hartwig's own 'flair' for colors.

Inwardly, Ayatane flinched, wondering how Bertram would react to the color scheme of the bomber once he saw it. It was no secret that Bertram had watched Joshua paint while he was growing up and, once he had taken up painting as well, had somewhat attained an art sense. Though Bertram devoted more time to poetry and writing than to art, he was still as much of a painter as his brother.

Regardless of the incredibly loud and clashing colors of the bomber, Hartwig was now the senior officer on the field and he had given the order and request for escort. Ayatane and several planes fell into formation around the bombers and within moments, they were swarmed by Rotiart fighters, desperate to protect their sole remaining railgun. Again, Ayatane spared a glance at the bombers and silently prayed they would make it through.

Regardless of who dropped the bombs, one thing was certain: Olympus would fall.

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Hartwig manually adjusted the bombers engines so that the gunships could take positions with them. Out of the right window, past his co-pilot, he could see the fighters forming up and preparing to escort them to the Olympus. Checking the coordinates again, Hartwig turned on the bomber's internal radio system.

"Pilot to Bombadier...Pilot to Bombadier...Claus! Wake up down there! The enemy train is currently heading North-by-Northwest at a speed of about forty miles per hour. Factor in our current airspeed and plot a course so that our bombs flatten the entire railgun."

"Colonel! We just recieved a radio message from Tellanos command. Our orders are not only to destroy the Olympus, but also to destroy any and all intact rail lines the enemy can use to bring in supplies. If we can delay or stop the siege of Retorinc, we may just stop the enemy's momentum."

"Copy that. Okay, we have our orders...Look alive gunners! We've got company!"

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Airman Conrad Smith was busy tinkering with his gun when the radio piped up throughout the plane warning of incoming aircraft and of AA guns opening up. Conrad opened the breach of his 37mm cannon and loaded it. He then opened the gun view and cycled it to the left and took aim at an AA unit near an old dilapidated water tower and keyed his radio.

"Starboard Thirty-Seven ready...firing!"

The cannon recoil caused the plane to jump but otherwise didn't do anything else. Through the gun sight, he saw the round impact the remains of the water tower which fell over onto the AA position. The radio keyed and laughter followed.

"I confirm one kill of a water tower and an indirect kill of an AA position. Nice shooting Smith!"

Conrad sighed and reloaded the gun, cycled further left and fired again. This process of load, cycle, fire, reload was all part of Conrad's day. He remembered the first time he'd seen the gunship and his own attitude towards putting not one, but two 37mm cannons in the belly of a refitted bomber. He had honestly thought the idea completely insane. Then of course there was the defensive armaments, several large caliber machineguns and even some flak cannons. As far as gunships went, the GS-28 type was the smallest. The next largest is the GS-30 and even bigger than that is the GS-32, a gunship model of the HB-32 heavy bomber. But, as the pilot of the gunship was fond of saying: Big things come in small packages.

He kept firing and reloading his gun at the AA positions and drowned out the bang-bang-bang of the flak cannons, the Boom of the second cannon, and the constant ratta-tata-tata of the machineguns. At least until a flak burst shook the plane and a scream of pain reached his ears. He paused long enough to hear the radio come on, the voice of Foster, their tail-gunner, was filled with fear and pain.

"T-This is Foster! Breighton is down, our left flank is vulnerable!"

"Smith! Get back there and man that gun, Naris will take over for you."

Not wasting precious time, Conrad left his gun and ran out the door that seperated the first cannon from the second and then through the hatch that opened to the waist guns. What he found there horrified him.

Airman Geoff Breighton, a friend of Conrad's from basic, lay slumped in the middle of the aisle. Foster had returned to his gun and was firing at anything that moved in front of his gunsights. The other waist gunner, Stevenson, was swearing a blue streak and giving the enemy the whole nine yards. A closer inspection confirmed his worst fears that Breighton was no longer breathing. A lucky piece of shrapnel had cut him across the aorta; the entire front of his flight uniform, along with his gun and most of his ammunition was soaked with arterial spray. Swallowing back bile, Conrad grabbed the blood-covered machinegun, aimed through the sights and began firing at the enemy planes coming in on the supposed 'weak' side.

The twin mount large caliber guns made slow work of the enemy planes. True to the briefing, the Rotiart planes were built like tanks and could take a lot of bullets before going down. Instead of using conventional tactics (which meant shoot so many holes in the target it can't fly), he opted for a new approach. In training he had earned the nickname 'Snipe' from his comrades for his tendency not to hold down on the machinegun trigger and hope for a 'Hail Mary'.

Instead, he took careful aim and fired three to five round bursts at the cockpits of the enemy planes. These proved to be not as sturdy as the rest of the plane and soon Conrad was getting into an old groove from back in his days hunting with his grandfather: aim, lead, fire, shift. Aim, Lead, Fire, Shift. Seven out of ten times he depressed the dual trigger an enemy plane went down, the glass canopy shattered and stained red.

Apparently the enemy planes noticed how effective he was doing and they actually tried not to get bracketed by his guns. Still, though, the old saying is: when things are looking their brightest, brace for disaster. For Conrad, disaster struck a rather low blow this time.

An explosion shook him off his feet and he fell back onto Breighton's corpse. Immediately the radio came on and for the first time since serving with this crew, Conrad heard fear in the pilot's voice.

"We have been hit by a large caliber anti-air cannon. We have lost the starboard side thirty-seven and we have also lost our starboard engine and can no longer move with the formation. We are breaking off to return to Chamberlain, prepare to-"

Another flak blast shook the plane and Conrad felt the plane dip down slightly. A sense of dread filled him as he left the gun and leapt through the compartments. He reached the door to the cockpit and glanced through the open area to the nose of the plane. The glass nose was shattered and the nose gunner's body was slumped over his gun. He threw open the door and was greeted by the copilot, wounded, trying to keep the plane up. The pilot was like the nose gunner, dead, and slumped over the controls.

Acting out of instinct, Conrad unbuckled the pilot and shoved the body aside and then grabbed the controls. In the back of his mind he thought it ironic that he, who had flunked pilot training due to not understanding the academic aspects but was the highest scoring recruit on the solo and training flights, was now at the controls of the gunship. His arms were strong and well muscled, enabling him to handle the controls with an iron grip. The copilot looked at him with mixed expressions of hope and worry.

"Smith, can you do this? Can you handle this plane?" Conrad looked at the busted controls and broken gauges and sighed.

"Do you mean 'can I keep this plane flying'? That answer is no. We're down one engine, the right wing is barely hanging together, and we've got a hole the size of a bookshelf in the belly. Lieutenant, help me take her down to fifteen hundred feet. Does the radio still work?"

"No, it's dead. Intercom is to."

"Alright, help me take her out of formation. We can't make it to Chamberlain but we can make it to Retorinc."

The copilot nodded and returned his attention to the controls and together they slowly descended and turned the gunship towards the airport.

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The gunners on Hartwig's plane were firing rapidly at any and all enemy planes coming into their fields of fire. Bursts of flak created hundreds of black puffs of smoke against the blue sky. Hartwig felt the controls of his plane jerk with every single burst that hit too close to home. Once he cursed as a burst hit just underneath them. He could have swore he saw the altimeter jump by about five feet. He absently recalled the battle over the sea fortress Poseidon all those years ago. The flak bursts, the flashes and screams as a member of his crew was hit, the feeling of dread when he realized he couldn't land his crippled B-2 safely and forcing a crash landing on the battlefield.

He'd lost half of his crew that day and had come too close to losing Amelia, his wife who back then had been his copilot. He'd also lost his nose gunner, one waist gunner, and his tail gunner to a strafing enemy plane but he'd managed to land the biplane bomber on two engines and no landing gear. His bombadier, Jigger, had taken up air racing after the war and Bishop, the other waist gunner had (predictably) joined the clergy after the war; although now he had rejoined the RAF as a pilot and was known among those of the seventy-sixth bomber wing as 'the Flying Father'.

To him, every flak burst was a specter that promised only death. Every plume of smoke was the shell that had killed a crew member during the war all those years ago, every explosion a clap of thunder that heralded the fall of another friend. Hartwig resolved to not fly into the flak if he could help it. He might not be able to save everybody but he could at least protect his crew. Watching the dogfight occuring all around the bombers, he keyed the intercom to the bombadier.

"Claus; how much further?"

"We are almost on top of them but they are in a an S curve. They will straighten out but we'll have about one minute to drop the bombs on them before they go into a tunnel ahead." Hartwig looked ahead and indeed saw the track straighten out right at the mouth of a tunnel. Spying the track, he got an idea and switched the radio to the squadron frequency.

"This is Blue Knight to Jolly Roger, come in Roger."

"This is the gunship Jolly Roger. How may I help you today Colonel?"

"There is a stretch of track ahead of our target that seems to be remarkably intact. Think your thirty sevens can remedy that?"

"You want us to just destroy the track or collapse the tunnel entrance?"

"Destroy the track please but if your gunners are feeling lucky and creative..."

"Copy that. One railbreaker coming right up. Heh, this will piss'em off!"

Hartwig had to smile as the lumbering GS-28 came up near level flight and watched as its starboard 37mm cannon rotated toward the front and then lowered by about fifteen degrees. There was a moment of what seemed to be peace before the cannon fired. Another pause, and then fired again.

The first shell hit just to the left of the tracks. The second round struck the track right at the mouth of the tunnel. Apparently, the train crew saw the track being destroyed and applied the brakes. At that moment, the armored cars that served as protection from land and air based threats opened fire on the gunship and bomber formation. Unphazed by the sudden resistance, the gunship began firing its 20mm cannons as well as starting a 'mad minute' with the 37mm cannon. At eighteen thousand feet, they were too high up and too close to the railgun for Hartwig to see what damage they were doing but he heard the gunship's crew over the radio as they cheered.

"This is Jolly Roger, tunnel is collapsed and the train is stopped! Blue Knight, she's all yours." Hartwig nodded to his copilot and keyed the intercom.

"Pilot to Bombadier. Pilot to Bombadier: Open bomb bay doors, open bomb bay door."

There was a sharp clang as the doors opened as well as a rush of cold air as the bomber became open to the atmosphere. Hartwig flipped three switches and then keyed the mike again.

"Okay Claus, I'm hands free, she's your bird now."

"Copy that sir. Adjusting course three degrees right...lowering speed...racks are armed...okay, three...two...one...bombs away!"

The sound of the metal clamps releasing echoed through the plane as the bomber began dropping its entire five ton payload onto the now immobile railgun. A few moments later, the Claus whooped and keyed the radio.

"Target is hit! I repeat the Olympus is hit! Scratch one railgun."

As Hartwig and his crew cheered, they suddenly heard something through the radio.

"Attention all aircraft, you are all cleared to return to base. The enemy is in full retreat! Repeat: The enemy is retreating!"

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Bertram jinked left and then rolled right to try and shake Muntz off his tail, so far he'd avoided getting his tail shot off but was unable to get behind his adversary. Occasionally, he could see planes with similar ID tags going after Tellanian or Syllian planes but apparently, Muntz had ordered them to leave him be.

He noticed the bombers begining to turn around and flee the battlefield and assumed Muntz was here to minimize losses. The next communication shot that theory full of holes.

"So. You are the famous Bertram de Launces, yes? The youngest child of James de Launces and also the protégé of the Blue Baron, Reyson Havvers? From what I have seen so far, I am unimpressed. Are you going to continue running until the cowards in my own air corps finish their retreat and order me to do likewise, or are you going to turn and fight me like a man?"

What Muntz didn't know was that Bertram was actually taking the measure of his plane, seeing how deep it could turn, climb, and descend, its top speed, and also, the measure of the man behind the machine. He had an idea and then shifted his grasp. For some reason not doubting Muntz has changed his frequencies, Bertram keyed his radio.

"Lieutenant Muntz, your reputation precedes you. I know you gave my mentor some trouble in Sanijo but you also showed honor. Unfortunately, I am not my mentor, or my father, and I have no intention of being shot down today."

Kicking the rudder and pulling the stick as hard as he could, Bertram flipped the plane over into a near skidding turn then reversed his grip and actually flipped the P-29 on its axis and opened fire on Muntz's plane.

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Muntz cursed as he felt rounds slam into his plane and managed a wide-eyed glance at the plane. He had not expected such a maneuver and was actually shocked, yet at the same time, he felt exhilarated. He quickly mimicked the turn but his plane was too heavily armored to effectively close the turn. He opened fire and saw his rounds go wide, missing Bertram who had, at the last moment, pushed his plane into a dive to escape the line of fire.

He dived his plane after the Syllian ace, hoping to get close for his F19's cannons to brutalize the Syllian aircraft. Yet as he closed, Bertram flared his airbrakes and shot past him, getting back on Muntz's tail and firing again.

Unlike last time which was just rounds striking the armor, this time Bertram's rounds struck the rudder of the plane making it feel heavy and sluggish in his hands. At that moment, his radio keyed in and he heard his commander over the comm.

"Lieutenant Muntz! The order to retreat has been given. Stop fooling around and follow your wingmen, we can ill afford to lose you." Muntz scowled.

(Me as a pilot or as a poster boy?) He then switched his radio back to the Syllian frequency (a closely guarded secret of his) and spoke.

"Well done Lieutenant de Launces. You have disabled my controls. I shall withdraw for now but rest assured, we will meet again."

He clicked off his radio before he heard the reply and, trailing smoke, he changed course and followed the retreating bombers.

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Bertram gazed after the retreating enemy ace with relief. In the end, his squadron had lost no one and they had inflicted massive casualties of the enemy bomber corps. He angled his plane and rejoined with the others as they proceeded to Retorinc Airfield to land and refuel before returning to Chamberlain.

As they began to land, a radio flash began broadcasting through the planes and the land base.

"This is the SBC Radio News, bringing the news of home to the men and women abroad. This is Steven Holwitz, reporting. First off, the old news: Earlier this week, as Task Force Echo-Fifteen deployed from the city of Sanijo, submarines from the Callinar Island Navy attempted to ambush and sink the fleet just outside of the harbor. Their plan failed however as the destroyer, RNV Interceptor, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Joshua de Launces, and several flying boats of the Sanijo Port Authority as well as destroyer escorts, RNV Berkley and RNV Calloway engaged and destroyed two of the three submarines and, in a daring raid, managed to capture the third and final submarine. Unfortunately all intelligence aboard the submarine had been destroyed and most of the crew, including the captain and senior officers, were killed in the raid. Also, Archduke James de Launces welcomed his former students, Albert and Xavier Reed of Tellanos, as well as Prince Roberto del Eiya of Espan. The Dragon Mechanist and his students have secluded themselves in Launces' industrial district and are supposedly hard at work on new projects designed to aid the military."

Bertram sighed upon hearing this and, noticing it was his turn to land, lowered his landing gear and prepared to land. As he did so, the broadcast continued.

"In other news: Reports from the Callinar Island front seem promising as in the initial engagement, Section Five of Task Force Echo-Fifteen successfully liberated the occupied island of Kage in the Blue Island chain and sank five Callinar destroyers, two cruisers, and severely damaged one carrier with Syllian losses being two destroyer escorts, the RNV Tribal and RNV Garr, the light cruiser RNV Dare, and the grounding of the battleship, RNV Regal. Though it sustained light damage from a stray round, the RNV Interceptor remained afloat and once again distinguished itself in combat, this time acting as a shield for the crippled cruiser RNV Crucible. As of now, Echo-Fifteen is remaining in the Blue Isles, awaiting the second fleet to reinforce it before proceeding to the outer Callinar Islands."

There was a pause and the sound of what seemed to be papers being shuffled and handed to the reporter. When he spoke again, his voice had a slight catch in it.

"L-Ladies and G-Gentlemen... I have just recieved a report that I can...I cannot seem to believe...ahem...Ladies and Gentlemen, as of yesterday morning at ten, the independant nation of Avalon has become involved in the war as aircraft from a carrier force from Damoneni launched an airborne attack on Warfang. During the battle, Lord Spyro and Lady Cynder, assisted by their son, Commander Ignitus of the First Avalon Air Guard and the Praetorian Queen's Guard successfully repelled the enemy air and invading ground forces and with assistance from ships from the Royal Navy's Tenth Fleet, destroyed six enemy vessels but lost nearly twenty in the surprise attack including the Syllian battleship RNV Mysidia and Praetorian battlecruiser IPV Horst."

Bertram quickly gave a prayer that his sister and her children were alright, then, as his wheels touched town, he heard the rest of the broadcast.

"The conflict that began with the surprise attack on Sanijo and the simultaneous invasion of the Federation of Tellanos has now become a near global scale conflict. I...I have just been handed yet another update. I...I regret to inform you all that...as of three hours ago, Port Grand Vista, the sole remaining Tellanian site of resistance behind enemy lines has fallen. It is unclear as to what has happened but it appears the city has been leveled. The hulls of several dozen ships still in port lie partially submerged as if scuttled by their own crews or destroyed by enemy ordnance. W-We will be back after these messages and as we try to confirm the story."

As Bertram got out of his plane, he saw the faces of the Tellanian pilots and ground crew. Some were shocked, some horrified, some were angry, and others were sullen. Whether or not he believed the report, the fact remained that the Tellanains believed it.

The only base of resistance in Tellanos, and the birthplace of the Tellanian Federal Navy, had been crushed, and worst of all no one knew how.

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(Back in occupied Ursa, the staging area for the Rotiart Air Aggressor Force)

Dieter Muntz's plane landed roughly on the runway as he expected. Thankfully the damage proved less than what he had feared. Still however, he saw his commander, an ingnorant officer who was booted from the Griffon Corps (supposedly) when he tossed an insubordinate recruit into a dread griffon pit. Though the officer was a Colonel, he lacked a spine and often times would stutter and get tongue-tied while delivering orders or a rebuke.

Judging by his expresion, Muntz was about to recieve a rebuke rather than new orders. He diverted his attention to the sounds of squawking as dread griffons and their less aggressive, smaller, and more intelligent brethren were beginning their training patrols around the newly conquered territory. He brought his attention back to the Colonel when the man's heavy, iron-soled boots made a sharp clank as he stopped before him.

"Well Lieutenant, please explain your behavior. Why did you ignore orders to retreat and continue engaging one, single enemy plane? Why did you order your squadron to leave that one plane for you? Why didn't you protect our bombers?" Muntz made no effort to hide his contempt for the man who, by grace of rank and familial position alone, outranked him.

"To answer your first question sir. The enemy I was engaging was Bertram de Launces, the youngest son of the Dragon Mechanist, James de Launces, one of the pilots in the Bingo book. I reasoned that if he could be shot down the enemy would suffer a crushing blow to their morale. As for the order to retreat, it should never have been given. Our bombers had enough bombs to level the entire city yet, they start crying over the radio that there are too many enemy planes they are ordered to retreat. Cowards do not deserve protection. To protect a coward who does not wish for the betterment of our fatherland is a traitor pure and simple. As to why I wanted de Launces for myself? What better opponent and trophy than to claim to have shot him down?"

The Colonel moved his mouth as if he wanted to say something but Muntz beat him to the punch.

"On another note. I was asked personally by Lord Mechanos to get an apprasal of the enemy aircraft and their pilot's experience, which I succeeded despite your yelling in my ear to retreat. Now then, I have a report to deliver to Lord Mechanos; personally. Good day, sir."

As he moved to step away from the Colonel, he moved to grab Muntz's arm. Muntz could hear the venom in his voice.

"You thrice damned insubordinate cur. You had damn well better address me properly or I'll make your life a living hell." Muntz turned around, a dangerous glimt in his eyes.

"You'll do what now Colonel? Remember: as Rotiart's leading ace, I and my squadron accept orders and missions only from Lord Mechanos. Now then, let me clarify something for you. If you try or even think about threatening me or a member of my squadron again, neither your uncle or your rank will save you. Our missions, as I stated, come from Lord Mechanos himself, no go betweens, no dead drops, no telegrams complete with chocolates and flowers. Our briefings are top secret and the results we achieve are just as secret. A face to face meeting and briefing and his missions have been what has ensured victory after victory so far until today when you went against his orders and commanded a retreat. One more foul up like this and I wouldn't be surprised if you 'disappeared' like that young Griffon Corps recruit so many years ago. Now then, good day."

The Colonel shook with impotent rage at the ace as he walked into a hangar and moments later left in a car going into the city, but his words had rung true. Muntz's squadron, the 215th Elite Air Wing, answered only to Lord Mechanos and were the elite of the elite. To speak or go against them was to invite political, career, and possibly even actual suicide. No matter how insolent, how vulgar, or how tactless the 215th was, they furthered Mechanos' goals and through him, they furthered Rotiart's standing in the world.

To the laws of man, they were untouchable.

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Whew! Alright everybody, here's the chapter that was voted on. I hope you all enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, please review and let me know how I did. Take care y'all!