The Lightsaber
By: Tellemicus Sundance
#14: Mystics, Warlocks, and Aerial Joyrides!

Forbidden Forest
February 5, 1996

This was, without a doubt, one of the most incredible moments of Harry Potter's young life to date. Dressed in a simple woolen robe as protection from the snow and winds, he was walking beside Tanja, nervous energy exuding from his pores like sweat. Shivers were running rampant through his body as the cold pressed in on him from all directions, and he had to actively fight his newfound instinct to use his Sorcery to insulate and warm himself against the cold.

"Remember, young Harry," Tanja was speaking softly as they walked slowly down a beaten path through the woods. The Centaur mystic was covered in exotic but beautiful paints of blues, greens, yellows, and a few stripes of red. The paint was so intricately done and with such an amazing precision that Harry honestly wondered how long it must've taken.

They were approaching a clearing that had the throbbing din of drums echoing through the air, so strong that Harry could feel the vibrations trembling and beating through his skin and body as though they were waves in the ocean. "No matter what happens, you must not use magic of any sort, for any reason. If you do, you will ruin the ceremony and could trigger some very…catastrophic magical backlashes onto yourself, me, and all of us gathered there."

"This ceremony is that dangerous?" he asked, feeling even more uncertain. When he heard that Tanja and her mystics could somehow remove the piece of Voldemort that was embedded within him, Harry had jumped at the offer given. But now he was having some very serious second thoughts. "If it's that dangerous for you, then we don't have to do this. I would rather not force this upon you. I can always find another way to get rid of Voldemort."

"Perhaps you could," Tanja acknowledged, nodding down at his smaller form. "But the ceremony isn't particularly dangerous, just…delicate. Nature exists in a delicate state of balance. When we use our magic, we tamper with that balance. To not respect that balance is to not respect nature. And that can lead to devastating consequences, though we may not always see or know what those consequences may be."

"Respecting nature's balance?" Harry muttered, his mind racing as this strange new concept floated through his mind. In so many ways, especially recently, he found that he understand the power and warning of this idea and just how dangerous upsetting balance could be.

"Once I've removed the darkness from you, I will store it and you can dispose of it however you wish," Tanja said, stepping ahead of him suddenly as they neared the edge of a clearing. Turning back to him, she continued, "Wait here. Once I reach the center and begin my chants, you may follow. Do not trod upon any of the circle lines, do not disturb any of the mystics, and do not use any magic. Once your reach the center, lie down on your back and we shall truly begin."

Harry nodded mutely, clearing his mind of all other irrelevant thoughts and focusing his mind on the moment at hand. He watched as Tanja turned back and entered the clearing. As she departed, he gave the clearing a fast examination. Painted on the dirt ground, which was free of brush and leaves, was the single most intricately-made magic circle he'd ever seen before. On the edges of the clearing were nearly three dozen elder Centaurs. They each carried a large drum, beating a deep, rumbling rhythm into the air. Their purpose was to provide both a steady constant to help the others focus and unite into a singularity. But Harry could also feel that they were using the instruments and drumbeats to create a powerful barrier to isolate the magic within the clearing, preventing any of it from escaping.

Seated on the ground on their knees, a group of twenty Centaurs who were painted in nearly matching patterns of blues, greens, and blacks were chanting in a language that he didn't understand. Their bodies and torsos were contorting and undulating in sporadic yet smooth movements, their eyes rolled upwards as they focused themselves into their chants and the rising magic. Even without his Sorcery, Harry could've felt the magic gathering, flowing, and building. It was building up into nearly an electric charge, vibrating and wavering, fluctuating and smoothing out wildly and at seemingly random intervals. As they summoned and focused their power, the body paint they wore began to illuminate, glowing brightly in the darkness of the night.

Seeing Tanja standing in the center and beginning her chants, Harry took a long, steadying breath and entered the clearing. Following the Centaur mystic's directions exactly, Harry reached the center and silently lay down on his back. Tanja stood over his body, her voice louder than the gathered Centaur mystics. Her movements were as equally much more vibrant and pronounced as her body paint was when compared to the others around them. Harry could feel her struggling to grasp ahold of the churning magic around them and guide it.

If he could've, he would've reached out a hand to help steady and reinforce her. But he had been quite sternly ordered to not interfere with the ritual in any way, which included using magic in of any type for any reason. Trying to relax was a very difficult thing for Harry to achieve as the amassed magical energy of the clearing was wreaking havoc with his Sorcery senses. It made him feel incredibly restless, energetic, building into a powerful desire and need to rise and do something.

But thankfully for his nerves, Harry felt an almost intangible shift in the air. Tanja had finally wrested control of the magic. Before his very eyes, Harry watched as Tanja slowly and gracefully turned to face him. She was gently rolling her hands in the vague shape of a circle, trails of brilliant blue and white gaseous magic swirling in the wake of her movements. The drums at the clearing's edge began beating much more loudly and to a faster rhythm. The gathered mystics raised their arms up into the air with such unison that it was almost as though they were all of one mind and body. The paint of their bodies, which had been a gently glow, now became much brighter, nearly-blinding.

Tanja raised one of her hands above her head and clenched her fist, literally and metaphorically grasping ahold of the bulk of the magic around them. Once done, the gaseous magic coalesced around her hand, lighting up and seeming to become a beacon of pure light. Through no will of his own, Harry suddenly felt his eyes closing and his consciousness fading as Tanja lowered the magic down towards her other hand, which had been continuing to make those slow circles around Harry's head. Her chanting became louder, but much more focused as she gazed down upon the boy before her.

Adding the newfound power she'd attained to her earlier movements, a disc of blue-white gas formed above the young Sorcerer's head. Once the magic had stabilized, she reached into the glowing disc for Harry's head. Though her hands were physical above the disc, they became of an ethereal gaseous matter like the cloud that they'd passed through. Reaching into Harry's head, the ethereal hands moved and searched. Using a sense of 'touch', she found and grasped ahold of the deep, vile darkness that was hiding within the boy's spirit and mind.

With a firm pull, she yanked a portion of the darkness from the boy. Her hand passing back out of the gas disc, she carefully tossed a noxious green darkness behind her into a special cauldron where it collected. This action of removing the darkness brought out a loud, deep cry of agony from the unconscious boy below her. Undeterred by the boy's screams, Tanja reached back through the disc. Grasping yet more of the darkness, she pulled out more and more of it, ignoring Harry's ongoing screams as his voice quickly turned hoarse.

After four successive removals, she dipped her hands once again back inside. She could no long 'feel' any more of the darkness, but she could feel a deep well of convulsing magic within him. She could feel a deadly poison trying to kill him and a life-giving fluid that was trying to heal him. This war of killing and rejuvenation was repeating itself in an ever-going clash all throughout his body, putting an incredible strain upon the boy's magic as it acted as a type of buffer to the two forces isolated away from the rest of him. She knew that sooner or later, even with the enhancement of Sorcery, his magic would give out and his body would be ripped to shreds by the eternal clash of the poison and antidote. They must be removed as well, for they didn't belong in him anymore than the darkness did.

Withdrawing her hands from the disc, Tanja's chanting began to change. Swirling her hands, she formed a ball of convulsing magic between her fingers. Gently lowering this new magic down to the boy, the small ball expanded as it engulfed his body. Lifting the boy weightlessly off the ground with his arms and legs hanging lifelessly around him, he floated a meter or so with the wild magic encircling, penetrating, and flowing through him. Once she felt that her magic had filled up the boy's entire body, down to the last cell, she clenched his hands into fists. This action was followed by the magic forming a blinding golden sphere around the boy, almost forming a physical entity as the amassed magic went to work. From within this golden sphere, Harry's hoarse voice could be faintly heard crying out yet again in agony. Thankfully, this agony only lasted a brief moment as the magic purged him of the basilisk venom and phoenix tears that had for so long lingered inside him.

Once done, the young Sorcerer was lowered almost daintily down to the ground again. As he set down, the Centaur mystics began quieting their chanting. The shining body paint they wore faded. The nearly deafening drums around them began softening their loud beats before finally falling silent. Tanja raised her arms skyward, opening her hands as she released the collected magic out to the world again. Her chanting quieting down to soft whispers, she stepped back and knelt to the ground. Once she was seated, she, the rest of the mystics, and even the drummers all bowed their torsos forward with their arms outreached towards the unconscious boy. And all fell silent.

The ritual was over.

-o-

North Sea
March 8, 1996

This was, without a doubt, one of the most exhilarating times of Dudley Dursley's young life. Though it still greatly pained him to think about it, the death of his family had been the necessary first stepping stones down this amazing new path he was walking. A year ago, he was a fat, selfish, brutish bully who had no defining talents or skills. His grade point average was so low that it was a wonder that he had even been allowed to continue his schooling at all. And his only friends were more concerned with using him to get access to the necessary pounds for purchasing narcotics without their own parents' suspicions being raised too high. The boy had no true ambitions or goals in life, content to live the mediocre life that his parents had raised him in and wanted him to have. Looking back at himself from where he now stood, Dudley could scarcely recognize that boy anymore and, frankly, he was utterly disgusted with himself for having allowed himself to have fallen so low.

A year ago, he never would've guessed he'd be an employee at a factory that produced revolutionary new technologies by combining them with the one thing he'd been raise to hate and fear all his life. The offer that Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin had given him to help in their fledgling factory had been done more out of obligation to him, as Harry's muggle cousin, than out of a true belief that he had any real talent to offer them. But they were operating on limited funds, few workers, and the high expectations that Harry had unintentionally and unknowingly set, so they had needed all the help they could get. And when it was discovered that Dudley had a real, God-given talent for mechanics and engineering, it had come as an utter surprise to everyone, including most especially Dudley himself.

The workings and physics of engines, the understanding of what they could do and how to get them working, all of it had been only a vague understanding to him when he studied the processes involved in his school for a semester. But when he was allowed to get down and dirty, tinkering with the engines, designing new parts and additions, despite the incredible complexity of it all, it just clicked in his mind. Dudley found that he was a mechanical genius. One of his first inventions and probably the one that'd be most well-known for the rest of human history was in fact the Repulsor Drive. Though he couldn't cast the spells needed to actually empower it, he had designed or inspired a large part of the Drive unit in some way.

Mr. Black had recently tasked him with fulfilling some of their new tentative military contracts, but Dudley felt that he needed a bit of a break. That was how he now found himself hovering several dozen meters in the air out in the middle of the North Sea. He was currently in the cockpit of his very own spaceship that he'd named the Warlock. It was a vessel that he'd helped to design with MagiTech's new engineers and mechanics, the first of its kind. And he could honestly say that it was a true honor and privilege to be given this ship for his very own. Granted, it was still technically MagiTech's property since there was still a wide array of testing, performance examinations, and fine-tuning to its design and mechanics, but the fact remained was that this ship would be his own by the end of the month for sure.

Looking over the different computer programs and gauges that lined the cockpit, Dudley just finished recording the latest data in the spreadsheet for the engineers to cipher through once they returned. Setting the folder into the small bag that hung from the pilot's seat, he glanced out one last time over the shifting, dark surface of the sea. Though the North Sea was nothing pretty to look at this time of year, it was still a sight to behold for Dudley, knowing that he was partly responsible for being at this place in this fashion. The thought drew a small smile across his face before he turned and left the cockpit. The Warlock's computer would continue the monitoring of the air and ocean currents, making automatic adjustments to keep them from being blown off course, so there was precious little he needed to do in the cockpit at this time.

The Warlock was a beautiful work of technological art. Lightly based off of one of Dudley's favorite childhood television shows, the ship was a long and narrow vessel with the cockpit at the foremost point and the engines in the rear. At roughly 21 meters long, 8 meters wide, and 9.5 meters tall, it was a very large machine. But that was because its core design was meant for it to be a 'flying mobile home'. It had two levels. The bottom floor was basically one long, open section with lots of empty space that could be transformed into a variety of uses that the owners could install with whatever they wanted. Granted, this space wasn't quite as free as it could've been since the bottom floor was also where a good portion of the electrical equipment, the fuel tanks, and the primary power generator (a man-sized Rune Spark) was located. But that didn't diminish the space available by too much, perhaps only 35 percent. The upper level was the living area, complete with three bedrooms, a kitchen, a rec room, an office, food storage, and latrines. The rear of the ship was largely dominated by the single remodeled and upgraded Boeing 747 jet engine and two massive Repulsor Drives that generated the lift necessary for the whole thing to float and fly.

But because this particular ship was now the personal vessel of Dudley, certain special privileges, 'unique' upgrades, and several new but untested technologies had been installed. The single most important new and untested technology was the new wardshield. Dudley liked to compare this wardshield as being a type of ray shield. It could supposedly be set to block either magically energy like curses and hexes or even MagiTech's as yet unreleased plasma blasters. Or it could be switched to shield against projectile weapons like missiles and bullets. Of course, it couldn't be a simultaneous switch; one shield would have to be completely powered down before the other could take its place, leaving the Warlock potentially vulnerable. But Dudley was confident in his ship and its magically-reinforced armor.

It was the second most important technology that was now being put to the test: an invisibility shield. This shield was an absolute necessity in order to keep the Warlock's existence a secret from the world. It especially made the vessel's departure from the heart of London much, much easier without gawking crowds, news crews, and even the government or military getting involved.

Approaching the nearest bedroom, Dudley gently opened the door and glanced in. Harry set in the center of the room, head bowed, eyes closed, and legs crossed with his hands slightly raised in the air. Even though he was not attuned to magic, Dudley could actually feel a strange electrical-like energy seeming to fill the air of the bedroom. He took this to meaning that Harry must've been using or summoning exceptionally powerful magic if even he could somewhat notice it. Although, judging by the look of frustration on his face, it was also clear that Harry was having a hard time using or controlling it.

Shrugging to himself, he gently closed the door and headed further down the hallway. The kitchen area was located almost in the exact center of the ship, which is where he found Janet McLaren fussing over some designs and papers. Looking up as she caught scent of his approach, Janet smiled warmly at her young superior, "Hello, Dudley. How're things on the bridge?"

"No different than they were half an hour," Dudley answered dully as he moved over to the pantry. "Honestly, I don't see the point in doing these tests still. The FRVs are going on the market in a week! If the engineers are still uncertain about the design and whatnot, they should just postpone the release date!"

"They're just trying to be careful," Janet said, trying to calm his annoyance gently. "We could get into serious trouble if something about the design or mechanics fails and hurt someone. It never hurts to keep testing and analyzing until the very last moment."

"It's still boring as hell," Dudley snarked as he grabbed a banana from the pantry. He had made it a habit to eat a more healthy diet nowadays so he'd never have to return to that obese pig he'd been previously.

"I've got a way to kill that boredom, Dursley," a cocky voice declared as Ashley entered from the other doorway, grinning arrogantly from ear to ear.

"If it's taking a dip in the ocean, I'll pass," Dudley said, peeling his banana. But after a second, he quickly added, "Of course, if you do, I'll be more than happy to watch!"

Ashley made a disgusted grimace at him as she tried to hide her growing blush. Janet just giggled quietly from her corner of the room, glancing up to watch the drama ensue. Regaining her composure, Ashley said, "No, it's not that! What I had in mind is we could take the Phoenix and Dragon out for a joyride! How's that for 'boring'?"

"Ashley, no!" Janet quickly declared, setting her work aside as she shot to her feet. "The Phoenix and Dragon are still only in the testing phase and we haven't gotten the green light to their launch from management yet! Besides, they're still back at the factory and we can't leave here until Mr. Potter has done whatever he's come to do."

"Oh, they are, are they?" Ashley asked, her grin turning positively devious at this point. It was a look that drew Dudley's attention and set off alarms in Janet.

"What have you done?" Janet asked slowly, fearing the worst.

"I may have added an extra item or two to the inventory list before we took off," Ashley said, her grin widening in pride at her accomplishment.

"I can't believe you'd do that!" Janet yelled immediately. "Do you have any idea just how foolish and reckless that was?! You could lose your job! I could lose my job!"

"I'm in," Dudley said, interrupting the arguing Lycans. "I'm bored and this is a good opportunity, so no point in wasting it."

Ashley smiled cutely over at him in response. "I'll take the Phoenix, if that's okay."

"That's fine," Dudley nodded. "Lead the way."

Ashley wasted no time in guiding him to the lower level to where she'd had the Phoenix and Dragon 'hidden'. They were resting on opposite sides of the main cargo bay under some meager blue tarps that failed miserably at properly concealing just what they were. Moving over towards his own chosen vehicle, Dudley unstrapped the tarp and pulled it off, revealing a metallic-gray and blue jetfighter. The M-2 Dragon was by far Dudley's most favorite invention to date, even if he didn't design or build it, which greatly annoyed him.

It had a long and narrow central body, with the cockpit located towards the rear. Flanking slightly behind the cockpit were a pair of raised fins that reached backwards above and below the main body. Though he couldn't see them from his position, he knew that the back of those fins contained a wide variety of mechanical functions, including three smaller engines for increased maneuverability. Currently, the two blue fins had a white image of a flying dragon painted upon them and they were in their locked configuration, joined together in a point just under the cockpit. They were only to be unlocked when entering combat, which would expose the two blaster cannons that were the Dragon's primary weapons. The fins also contained the wardshield generators, to protect from incoming enemy fire. Jutting out of the sides of those fins were a pair of thin but sturdy wings, currently swept backwards and slightly downwards to conserve space in the limited cargo bay. Overall, the entire jetfighter was just under 5 meters long and 4 meters wide, making it nearly less than half the size of most modern jetfighters.

Climbing up inside the cockpit, he quickly strapped himself in and started running through the startup sequence. The refurbished jet engine it used started spinning as its power plant was brought online, sending a gentle and comforting vibration through the entire craft. Pulling on a radio headset, Dudley tapped it to life, "You there, Felix?"

"What took you so long, Dursley?" Ashley asked, a hint of teasing in her voice. "I was about to leave without you."

"Very funny," he remarked as he sent the Lycan a slight glare across the cargo bay. The golden-haired girl just grinned and sent him a taunting wave.

Ashley's metallic-gray and green vehicle was a great deal different from his. Hers looked very much like a giant arrowhead. At less than 5 meters long, and 3 meters wide, it was so unbelievably small and aerodynamic that it looked like it belonged more in a television series in space than anything that could be aerially functionally in the real world. If nothing else, Dudley knew that the M-1 Phoenix would be the greatest high-speed interceptor of all time. Like the Dragon, it was also armed with hidden blaster cannons and wardshields.

"I'm engaging the cargo hatch," Dudley said, even as he was typing in the commands to the Warlock's computer. Warning red lights started flashing through the cargo bay as a pair of large doors slowly slid open in the center of the bay's floor. "Try not to scratch the paint or I'll be very upset."

"Don't worry, I won't hurt my darling little Phoenix," Ashely said, seemingly slightly offended by his remark.

"I was talking about the Warlock," Dudley clarified, watching as the Phoenix lifted into a slight hover and started drifting towards the opening.

"Whatever," she snarked back. "See you in the sky!" With that said, she eased out of the narrow opening with considerable care.

Following after her, Dudley smirked slightly as he approached the opening. Rather than ease his way out, he dipped the Dragon's nose, twisted the jetfighter slightly to reach the maximum amount of clearance, and dove out from the Warlock's underbelly. Once he was safely clear, he quickly pulled up on the control stick and pushed on the thrust. He couldn't stop the loud clear of exhilaration as he felt the Dragon's powerful engines push him back into his seat as the craft leapt forward at incredible speeds.

"I love this thing!" he cheered once he'd adjusted to the extra g-forces pulling at his body. Whooping, he put the Dragon into an intense corkscrew spin as he ascended high into the air, leaving the hovering Warlock far behind. Ending the spin, he pulled the yoke to the left sharply. The Dragon jerked into a sharp, needlepoint leftward turn. Its wings automatically slid forward to provide maximum amount of lift and maneuverability.

Leveling out, he looked out at the skies around him. The sky was much clearer this higher in elevation, but the sunlight being positively blinding, forcing Dudley to slide the large goggles down over his eyes from helmet.

"Hey, Dursley," Ashley's voice called out as the green arrowhead craft flew up to his right side wing. "Wanna race? Last one to reach 400 miles has to buy the winner—me—a diamond necklace!"

Glancing at the Dragon's power settings and energy supply, he smiled. Even if he pumped more than half of the power into the engines to reach the Dragon's top speeds, he could easily fly 400 miles and still have more than enough power to return to the Warlock. He wasted no time in already starting to shunt power to the engines. "And when I win, you have to admit to my superiority in mechanics and aviation!" With no further remark, he gunned the throttle for all it was worth, blasting far ahead the surprised Phoenix pilot and quickly going supersonic.

"Come on, Dragon!" he whispered, fighting against the powerful g-forces. "Come on, Dragon! I know you can do this. You may be a fighter, but you can still race! Come on!"

"That's cheating, Dursley!" Ashley cried out angrily as the Phoenix started pulling up alongside him. They both knew that she could've easily outstripped him, but she was humoring and mocking him by letting him maintain the lead somewhat.

"Says the girl in the plane meant for high-speed!" Dudley retorted, no wavering his attention from his flying and direction.

The miles were flying by at an incredible rate. Barely five minutes into the race and they were already nearly a hundred miles away from the Warlock. But things quickly took a turn towards the unexpected as they were entering a thick patch of cloud cover. A sudden warning blared to life. Glancing down at the radar screen, his eyes widened in alarm.

"Contact ahead! Break right! Break right!" Dudley yelled, even as he was enacting his own order. Ashley was already in the process, thankfully. Just as they broke through a particularly dense layer of clouds, Dudley was able to glimpse the lumbering and massive form of a passenger jet that was flying perpendicular to their own flight path. The Dragon and the Phoenix were able to thankfully avoid crashing or disturbing the passenger jet, but they ended flying through its jet wash. The turbulent air currents behind the jet rocked the two smaller ones and sent them into chaotic spins and tumbles.

Fighting with the throttle and stick, struggling against the g-forces, time slowed down drastically for Dudley as he seemed to slowly, too slowly, pull out of the uncontrolled turbulence.

"Phoenix, you still alive?" he called out once the Dragon stopped its spinning.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm fine," her voice was shaken and weak as the green Phoenix pulled up alongside his right again. And despite her obvious attempt, Dudley could tell that she was feeling quite perturbed by what had nearly happened. "I think that's enough flying for today."

"We'll call the race a draw," Dudley suggested, wholeheartedly agreeing with her. "Let's head back to the Warlock."

"I copy," the Phoenix turned in unison with him as they swung around to return to their carrier ship.

Ten minutes later, the two of them were cruising at a relatively slow speed close to 5 thousand feet in the air. They were purposely flying slower so that they wouldn't have a repeat of their near-crash. A little paranoid perhaps, but they figured it was better safe than sorry. But this slow flying is what also allowed for them to get some unwelcomed visitors. Maybe halfway back to the Warlock, their radars suddenly lit up with a pair of incoming blips.

"Please tell you see those two incoming planes, too," Ashley said over the radio.

"I see them," Dudley acknowledged, glancing behind him towards where he could glimpse two faint blurs racing at them. "What are the chances they think we're friendly?"

A sudden alarm rang to life in their cockpits, one that they were quickly recognized as the targeting lock warning.

"Not great," Ashley snipped.

Rolling and corkscrewing wildly in random directions, they were able to shake off the locks. Yanking the sticks to the sides, they swung into sharp starboard turns that the two incoming aggressors couldn't hope to match. As the two planes overshot them, the blaring locks died down and the computer was able to tag and identify the two planes.

"Two Panavia Tornadoes," Dudley identified, quickly scrolling through a list of their basic armaments. Most of the armament was pretty standard; a wide multitude of missiles, including Sidewinders, and heavy cannons. Top speeds averaging about Mach 2 with a combat effective range of 900 miles. These were some pretty dangerous opponents to have, especially for rookie pilots like themselves. They'd need every advantage they could get.

"Activate the wardshield," Dudley advised, flipping several switches and watching as a green sphere icon lit up on the head's-up display that was encircling a basic outline of the Dragon. The wardshield was invisible to the naked human eye unless otherwise disturbed by an impact. "Prepare for evasive maneuvers. Try not to engage the Tornadoes."

"Is it really a good idea to get into a dogfight with what are likely two RAF jetfighters?" Ashley asked, not sounding as concerned as her question implied she was. "Wouldn't it be wiser to just cooperate with them?"

"If you can find their radio frequency and are willing to turn over your Phoenix for government confiscation until after they've dismantled and wrecked the Phoenix to their hearts' contents, you go right ahead," Dudley said, gunning the throttle and launching the Dragon into supersonic speeds. "But I'm out of here!"

"No need to make it personal!" Ashley snapped as the Phoenix revealed its true speeds and shot past the Dragon at easily three times the speed.

An alarm blared to life again as a missile was launched. Trying to outrace the missile, Dudley couldn't help turning to look backwards as the smaller but faster explosive drew ever closer. Then, just as it seemed it'd strike and destroy his left wing, it suddenly impacted a transparent neon-blue field of hexagons that were the Dragon's wardshield. Cutting power to the engines and heaving back on the stick, the Dragon was pulled back into a steep and hard backwards flip. As he was momentarily hanging upside-down from this trick, Dudley glimpsed the Tornadoes as they shot towards and past him. Punching the throttle and leveling out the Dragon, he rocketed back away from the Tornadoes in the completely opposite direction.

"How do you like that trick?!" Dudley yelled back at them arrogantly. "And they say you don't learn anything from video games!" As ridiculous as it sounded, it was actually true. That particular trick was one he'd picked up from one of his many video games involving air combat. Granted, it was so much easier and much less disorienting and painful doing it on a television screen than in real life. The g-forces alone almost caused him to black out! And without a magically-strengthened frame for the craft, the Dragon probably would've been quite damaged from such an intense maneuver.

"If you're done showing off, I could use some help over here!" Ashley yelled, drawing his attention immediately.

"I'll be right there!" Dudley promised as he spun the Dragon around to hurry to his wingman's aid.

Even with her wardshield protecting her from missiles and bullets, Ashley was still sending the Phoenix into a wild and chaotic series of spins, weaves, and rolls. Her pursuer seemed to realize that she was built for speed and not maneuverability and had managed to close the distance with some admirable flying tricks. He was now spraying her shield with cannon fire continuously.

Glancing worriedly at her power supply, she felt some real worry starting to creep into her as she watched it rapidly dwindle away. 'The shield is eating through my power supply too quickly! And this constant barrage of bullets is only speeding it up! What do I do?!' A prodigy of flight she might've been, but she had never been forced into aerial combat before. The fear and uncertainty were eating away at her confidence and skill, making her sloppier than she should've been.

"Blast it, Dudley, where are you?!" she growled.

In reply to her demand, a pair of high-powered blue plasma beams suddenly shot through the space between her fleeing fighter and the Tornado behind her. Surprised and spooked, the Tornado quickly broke away from her. The blaster beams continued to shoot towards the jetfighter but were purposely fired wide and well away from it, an obvious warning that the pilot didn't fail to recognize.

"We've got them spooked," Dudley said as he banked away from the fleeing Tornado and drew up alongside Ashley. "Let's boost it with the afterburners and get back to the Warlock quickly!"

"Right, you lead, I'll follow," Ashley said, trying to regain her composure. Just how could he be so relaxed and calm in the middle of such an intense dogfight?! Forcing the question from her mind, she quickly channeled power from the wardshield to the engines. And, as the two Tornadoes were circling around for a renewed attack, the Dragon and Phoenix suddenly blasted forth at supersonic speeds, leaving the scrambling Tornadoes eating their exhaust. Only after three minutes of hard flying at those speeds did they start to breathe a bit easier. They had finally lost their attackers. It was time to dock back with the Warlock and pray that the repercussions of this little joyride wouldn't be as bad as they feared they would be.

(Author's Note) A lot of stuff have been happening in these past few chapters, and I apologize for that. I know it makes it difficult to keep track of everything. Hopefully, all these massive info dumps will start lessening up so we can focus more on the story at hand.

For those you curious, I'm basing the M-1 Phoenix off of the Delta-7B Aethersprite-class Light Interceptor from Star Wars, the M-2 Dragon off of the Arwing of Star Fox, and the Warlock off of the YZ-775 freighter of Star Wars.