Kissing the edge of space, the red and white jet rolled onto his back and dove towards the ocean miles below him. The thickening air warmed his skin and grabbed at his wings. The ocean rushed at him, ripples becoming waves, before he fired his thrusters and reached for the clouds. The white mounds enveloped him in mist, shredding at his passage.
Suddenly, he was no longer alone. The smaller silver, red and blue jet appeared out of the clouds and tore past him before turning in a wide arc and returning to fly wingtip to wingtip for a few moments.
Then silver, red and blue rolled away only to sweep under him. They raced along belly to belly, completely confident in each other's abilities, a confidence honed by millenia of practice. Their intricate ballet continued for long minutes, neither speaking because words weren't necessary and for fear that any words would turn angry. Finally, with one last barrel roll they split apart, silver, red and blue disappearing as quickly as he had appeared. Red and white, feeling strangely empty, spiraled towards the ocean before leveling out just above the wave tops and heading home.