AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ah, the promised dogfight chapter. I had a lot of fun with this one. We have the return of a few characters as we hit the halfway point of this story. (Since V9 was short, this story will probably be as well. I doubt it'll be as long as the other segments of ORW...but we'll see.)

And another slight retcon...I got my dates mixed up again, so the first chapter of ORW VI (the prologue with Theodore Gales, Pyrrha, Oscar, etc.) now takes place on September 12. That will be the last retcon. I changed the date in the first chapter to reflect this.

And yes, I stole ruthlessly and unashamedly from Top Gun. Both of them.

Silac Airfield

Banska Bystrica, Independent Confederation of Slovakia

13 September 2001

Ruby and Little ran down the tarmac, but as they drew even with the large hangar, a mechanic ran out. "Are you Ruby?" he demanded.

"Yeah," Ruby replied, skidding to a halt.

"Follow me, quickly!" They turned and jogged into the hangar. Charles Cheshire stood there in a flight suit, quickly strapping on a G-suit. He looked up at Ruby. "Listen, Miss Rose. We don't have a lot of time. There's at least eight bandits coming at us, about a hundred miles out. It's the Jabberwocky air pirate gang. Why they're attacking us I don't have a bloody clue, since they never have before. I have aircraft, but I don't have pilots, and I damned sure don't have anyone as experienced as you. Whatever you think of me, there's a lot of people here that will die if you don't help. Will you?"

"Yes," Ruby answered instantly.

"Capital. Flight gear's over there." He pointed to where several flight suits, G-suits, and combat boots had been laid out; there was a stack of parachutes to one side being hastily inspected by ground personnel.

Ruby stripped down to her underwear and began putting on flight gear while Little watched, her face pale with fear. She glanced up as a group of people ran into the hangar: Weiss, Blake, Yang and Marrow, led by Alyx, who was already in a flight suit. Her flight ran up to Ruby with questioning expressions. "Look," she said, "we've got to go up. I don't care if we don't trust Cheshire or not."

"Ruby, I don't know if that's a good idea. We don't—" Blake began.

"Goddammit, Blake, that's a fucking order!" Ruby shouted. Blake's ears flattened back, her eyes wide at the sudden display of temper. Her flight stared at her in surprise, and heads turned in the hangar.

Yang stepped in front of Blake defensively, looking daggers at Ruby. "C'mon, Blake, let's get dressed." They were wearing the same local clothing, and with a final glare at her sister, Yang started getting her clothes off as well.

Once everyone was at least in a flight suit, Cheshire came over. "Hi. Terribly sorry about telling you to fuck off earlier, but I need you, as Miss Rose said. I've never really had an issue with the Jabberwockies before, but they're angry at me for some reason, and I'm not sitting around to find out. There's three hundred people here that are my responsibility. I need the best people I have, and you're it. Understood?"

"We hear you," Yang replied.

"All right. I have four pilots here that I feel have a chance at survival. Myself, Alyx, and the Bobs." He pointed to two men. One was so white he made Weiss looked tanned; the other's skin was deep brown and he had a leopard tail. They both gave Ruby Flight a friendly nod. "They're no relation."

"What kind of aircraft do you have?" Weiss wanted to know.

"What I have available? I've got a two-seater F-5, a F-14A, a Hunter, a G.91, and a few A-4s." He pointed to Alyx and the Bobs. "They're qualified on the Skyhawks."

"Blake should take the Tomcat," Yang said. "Who wants to be her RIO?"

Marrow raised his hand. "I don't know how to fly any of those other ones, so I'll do it." He shrugged at Blake. "I'll figure it out."

"I can take the F-5," Ruby said. "I flew T-38s in flight school. Close enough. Unless you want it, Yang?"

"Nah, I'll take the Hunter," Yang grinned, but Ruby noticed it didn't reach her eyes.

Weiss gave a resigned shrug. "I'll take the G.91, then. I flew those in flight school. Very briefly."

"Superb. It's the twin-engined version—the G.91Y. Not much in the way of missiles," Cheshire explained. "Sidewinders, except on the Tom; I've got four Sparrows on that one." He clapped his hands. "All right. Bandits are out of the east; the tower will give you everything after you're taxiing. Miss Rose, you're in command."

"Me?" Ruby pointed at herself.

"You're the most qualified. I'll fly your wing." Cheshire glanced over his shoulder. "No offense, blokes, but these four ladies and the Faunus guy here have more combat time than all of us combined and then some. I'd appreciate it if one of you held back to help them." This to Ruby Flight.

Weiss raised her hand. "I'll do it. Ruby's my wingperson normally, but since you're going up with her…"

"Sorry. I know the ground, Miss Schnee."

"That leaves me and Blakey again." Yang nudged Blake. "You ready to cover my awesome ass?"

"Your big ass, you mean," Blake deadpanned, which gave them all a needed laugh.

"All right, let's get up there—uh, Miss Little? What in God's name are you doing?" Cheshire was staring over Ruby's shoulder. The mouse Faunus had stripped as well and was putting on a flight suit, emulating the others.

"I'm not staying down here." Little zipped up the flight suit.

"She can fly with me," Ruby said quickly.

"All right—I don't have time to argue." Cheshire checked his watch. "Let's get our arses in the air. Blake, please come with me for a moment."

Alyx gave hasty directions to the hangars, and the group broke up. Ruby picked up a parachute and strapped it on Little, then threw one over her shoulders; unlike more modern aircraft, the F-5 didn't have the parachute as part of the ejection seat. As they ran to the hangar, Ruby gave Little a quick instruction on how to use the parachute. "Still can't believe you're doing this!" Ruby exclaimed.

"Last time I got left alone, someone put drugs in me and tried to make me into a sex slave!" Little shot back. "I don't care how dangerous this is!" She gave Ruby a smile. "Besides, the way you talk about flying—I want to see it the way you do."

"No, you don't," Ruby murmured. Yang caught up with them, pulling the straps of her parachute tight. "Sorry about that back there," Ruby told her sister. "I'm really tired."

Yang whacked her sister on the back. "It's okay, Rubes, but please, Blake deserves better, okay? Apologize to her if we live through this." She grinned, and this time it did reach her eyes. "Now let's go kick pirate ass!"

"Since when do you know how to fly a Hunter?" Ruby yelled at Yang as her sister peeled away to run into the Hunter's hangar.

"How hard can it be?" Yang yelled back, which didn't make Ruby feel any better.

Blake followed Cheshire at a brisk walk, with Marrow trailing behind, then stopped in front of a hangar whose doors were opening. "I wanted you to see this now rather than later," Cheshire explained, and pointed.

Blake Belladonna was not someone who surprised easily, but she actually jumped when she saw it. Squatting in the hangar, the nose down, the wings swept forward, and the twin 20mm cannon pointing directly at her over a leering sharkmouth, was the Moonslice-Adam Taurus' custom fighter, which she had last seen splashing nose first into the Mediterranean. "How…"

Cheshire smiled humorlessly. "I told you I helped design the Moonslice. Adam Taurus and I sat there for weeks with engineers. We had to build two of them. He got the second one. That's the prototype. We split the testing. That was after you left the White Fang." He shook his head. "That daft bastard couldn't stop talking about you. You must've been quite good in bed. Anyhow, I didn't want you firing a Sidewinder at me out of habit." He nodded. "See you up there. Sorry I don't have Phoenix for your Tom."

"Right…" Blake shook herself and continued running towards the F-14. They finally reached the hangar. Blake clambered up the ladder, but Marrow hesitated. "Forgot how big this damn thing is," he murmured, then climbed up behind her.

As the crew chief helped them strap in, Blake ran through her preflight. The cockpit was different from Gambol Shroud's; whereas hers had been the equivalent of a F-22, this older A-model Tomcat was still mostly analog. "Where did you find this thing?" she asked the crew chief.

He shrugged. "Iran."

"Makes sense." Blake let out her breath. She had trained on a F-14A at VX-4, so it wasn't that different, and after a moment, muscle memory set in. Blake smiled. "It's been a minute, hasn't it?" She took a second to run her hand lovingly over the throttle. I dub you Gambol II, Tomcat. Now let's go show the world what an old lady's got left.

Ruby and Little reached the F-5. A crew chief—Ruby spared a quick thought for Arnold Vogelmord, her old crew chief; she hoped he had gotten out of Poland all right—helped both women into the F-5F, and then strapped them in, helping Little to get her oxygen mask and radio plugged in; Ruby didn't need the help. Ruby quickly looked over the instrument panel. It had been slightly updated; there was a multifunction panel and inertial navigation system, plus a HUD, though most of it was still 1950s-era. The T-38 Talon she had trained on at Sheppard Air Force Base was set up basically the same, and the F-5 was purposely designed to be easy to fly. It occurred to Ruby that this had been the same basic type of aircraft Roman Torchwick had been killed in.

As Ruby punched in the numbers for the INS, the crew chief removed the ladders and Ruby took a moment to close the canopy, telling Little which button to push. "What do I do?" she asked, clearly overwhelmed. The F-5F was a dual-control aircraft.

"Nothing," Ruby said. She was unconsciously switching to combat mode, in which everything that wasn't necessary to air combat became secondary. "Don't touch the controls unless I tell you. Don't touch any buttons unless I tell you. If we get hit, I'm going to yell 'eject, eject, eject.' You reach up and pull those yellow handles above you. Make sure your back is straight and your head is fully back in the headrest, or you're gonna die. If you're still here after the third time I say eject, you'll be by yourself. Understand?"

"I think so."

Ruby glanced at Little in the mirrors set into the canopy bow. All she could see of the mouse Faunus was the girl's eyes, wide in fear. "Little, this is your last chance to get out of there." The other girl shook her head. "Okay. Then here's your job. You're my second set of eyes. Anything gets behind us, you tell me. Think of a clock. Right in front of us is 12 o'clock. Right behind us is 6 o'clock. Left and right is 9 and 3. If it's higher than us, say 'three o'clock high.' If it's lower, say 'seven o'clock low.' Got it?"

"Yes."

Ruby was giving the explanation as she followed the crew chief's hand signals forward. He snapped off a smart salute, and Ruby returned it. Beyond the crew chief, she saw the tall figure of the Blacksmith, watching her taxi out. "Make sure your straps are tight, Little. When we get into the dogfight, I'm going to throw around this bird hard. We're going to be taking Gs—that's what you feel when airliners take off, remember?"

"Sure. I like that." Little sounded a little less scared.

"Well, multiply that by a lot. Your G-suit's gonna squeeze you hard. Bear down like you've…" Ruby almost said like she was having a baby, which was what her instructor had told her at Sheppard. Ruby didn't really know what that meant at that point, and now neither did Little. "…like you've got to take a wicked shit." Little burst into laughter at that. "Your vision might tunnel out, and you might pass out. That's okay if you do. It's not okay if I do, but I won't." I hope, Ruby added to herself. She had to remember this was not a F-16; the F-5 was nimble, but it could not take quite the same amount of stress the Viper could. "Okay, here we go." Ruby swung the F-5 out onto the taxiway. "Stay off the radio unless it's absolutely necessary." She did a quick search, and toggled the radio switch on the throttle. "Banska Tower, Ruby Lead, taxiing."

"Ruby Lead, Banska Tower." The tower quickly read off wind conditions, barometer, and weather—scattered clouds, with a thunderstorm beginning to develop from the north. "Bandits are now at 40 miles, speed 400, altitude 15,000, bearing zero-seven-zero. You are number one for takeoff."

"Roger that." Ruby turned onto the only runway. She closed her eyes for a moment, said a brief prayer, and waited for clearance. On the taxiway beside her, she saw the oddest procession of fighters and attack aircraft she had ever seen: the F-14, the Hunter, the G.91, and three A-4s—and the strangest of all, the one just beside her, the Moonslice. It felt strange seeing the forward-swept wing fighter and knowing it was on her side. All of the aircraft were painted solid gray, with sharkmouths applied to each, and a Czech trisected roundel applied to the wings, forward fuselages, and tails, surmounted with the Eastern Orthdox double cross of Slovakia.

"Ruby, cleared for takeoff. Raid count eight bandits, range 30 miles, speed 450, bearing and altitude same."

"Ruby, rolling." Ruby slammed the throttles forward and let off the brakes. The double J85 engines left purple shock diamonds behind them, and Ruby was pressed into the seat. The F-5 picked up speed rapidly, Ruby watched the speed, then pulled the stick back into her lap. The fighter leapt off the ground; running clean, with only two Sidewinders on the wingtips, it was extremely light. Ruby cycled the landing gear up, then turned hard and climbed, curving around the airbase to head east. She quickly glanced around the cockpit, taking a few seconds to find anything she might need in a hurry.

"Little, you doing okay?" she asked.

There was silence for a moment. "Wow!" Little replied. "That's…that's a lot different than an airliner!"

"Okay. Can you see Cheshire? He should be off and to our right, just behind us. He's in the weird looking fighter with the wings on backwards."

"Um…yes! There he is, um, seven o'clock? No, I mean four o'clock." Ruby did a quick check herself, and was suddenly glad Little had come along: the rearward vision out of the F-5 was far more restricted than the F-16. "How does that thing fly with the wings like that?"

"Really good." Ruby rocked her wings, and Cheshire did the same. She toggled the radio switch. "Ruby Flight, check in by numbers."

"Two," Cheshire said.

"Three." Blake's voice was clipped.

"Four!" Yang sang out.

"Five." That was Weiss.

"Six," said Alyx.

"Seven!"

"Eight!" Ruby realized she didn't know the two Bobs' actual names, so in her mind she assigned them Bob 1 and Bob 2.

"Roger." Ruby stared out of the windscreen, and caught movement. "Tally-ho. Bandits at 20 miles, eleven o'clock high. Rubies, split and engage, weapons free. Rubies Five through Eight, fall back and engage any leakers. Here we go." Ruby lowered her visor, took a deep breath, and got ready. At their closing speed, they would be in Sidewinder range in thirty seconds. Blake was already in range for her Sparrows.

"How can you be so calm—" Little began. She was stunned: Ruby sounded almost bored.

"Quiet!" Ruby snapped, and Little obeyed.

"Marrow?" Blake asked.

"Got it. We're sweet." He'd finally figured out the radar. One of the mechanics had tossed a flight manual into his lap before the canopy closed, and he had skimmed it very quickly. "Got a lock, range 18 miles. Shoot!"

"Ruby Three, Fox One!" Blake sang out. One of the Sparrows dropped out of the fuselage wells, ignited, and went on its way, trailing a thick stream of white smoke. "Ruby Three, padlocked." Now Blake could not maneuver: unlike the AMRAAM, which was fire-and-forget, the Sparrow had to be guided to the target by the F-14's own radar. If she took evasive action, the missile would lose lock and go stupid. She wondered if she shouldn't fire another Sparrow, even though Navy doctrine was one shot, one kill.

"Rubies, Ruby Three Bravo," Marrow radioed the ersatz squadron. "Raid count eight bandits, splitting up—four at twelve o'clock low, two at ten o'clock low, two splitting right at three o'clock low." Blake could not see her opponents quite yet; at lower level, they would be hard to see against the forest below, but she summoned a mental picture. Four of the Jabberwockies were coming straight at them, but the other four had split to both sides, either to pincer the defenders, or try and slip past and hit the base. Then there was a blossom of fire on the distant horizon, followed by a fireball; the white smoke terminated there. "Ruby Three, splash one!" Marrow exulted.

"Hold on!" Blake told Marrow, because now they were at the merge.

Ruby saw two fighters coming straight at them; they were climbing to meet her and Cheshire. She could not quite make them out. They went over an isolated cloud, and she finally could identify them: a F-5 like her own, and a MiG-21, painted an odd shade of overall dark purple. "Ruby Lead, tally-ho, Tiger and Fishbed, twelve o'clock low!"

Suddenly the two fighters split to either side in a defensive break, daring Ruby to split off from Cheshire. "Ruby Two, stay with me—"

"Ruby Two is on the Fishbed!" Cheshire suddenly threw the Moonslice into the forward-swept wing fighter's specialty: the low-speed turn. It should have easily put the Moonslice behind the MiG-21, but Cheshire was not as experienced as he thought, and had committed too early. As he skidded hard to the right, the MiG simply acclerated past him.

"Dammit!" Ruby snarled, and split to the left, trying to get behind the other F-5. It was a single-seater, she saw in a flash as it went past, a F-5E. There was no difference in performance between the two variants of the Tiger II; it would be down to the pilot. She heard Little grunting over the channel as she was pressed into the seat by five times the weight of gravity. Then Ruby forgot about the girl behind her as she settled behind the F-5E. A flick of a button, and she was in gun mode, too close for the Sidewinder. She fired a quick burst, but the other F-5 went into a hard right break, then reversed as Ruby overshot. Ruby slammed the stick into her right knee and stomped the rudder pedal, reversing her own turn; she didn't notice her G-suit squeezing her, keeping blood in her brain, but behind her, Little's helmet bounced off the canopy, and she fought down nausea as the two F-5s went into a rolling scissors.

Ruby looked to her right, trying to gauge the other pilot, about to hit the speedbrakes and force her opponent out front. For a moment, the two Tigers were canopy to canopy, and Ruby had a sense of déjà vu as she stared across 40 feet of sky. In the cockpit of the other F-5, the pilot wore a white flight suit, a green G-suit, and white-laced combat boots. The helmet was striped pink against purple. The pilot's visor was down, but Ruby knew that behind it was one pink eye, and one brown one.

"Neo," she breathed.

Yang hadn't had a flight manual to skim in the few minutes between takeoff and engagement; she learned on the fly. She figured out where the radio was and how the HUD worked—obviously this Hunter had been upgraded, as it had two Sidewinders nestled under the swept wings—and the rest was stick and throttle. She'd taken a glance at the two missiles as she climbed in, and they were AIM-9M all-aspect Sidewinders, at least. She wouldn't have to get directly behind someone to shoot.

Nor did she. Yang kept an eye on Blake, off to her left, as the Tomcat maneuvered for another shot; then the bandit in front of her, which her Sidewinders began to growl at, picking up its heat signature; and off to her right, in the corner of her right eye, two more bandits, sweeping in to get behind her and Blake. They turned broadside to her for a moment. L-39s. The Red Prince had had a few of those at the Ostrava Airport before Blake had set them on fire; a little Czech trainer, it was small, easy to fly, and very maneuverable, with a brace of missiles and a single underslung 23mm cannon. The two L-39s were still half-minute out of the fight, so Yang put them out of her mind to concentrate on whatever was closing with her.

Two little sparks flew out from under the wings, and Yang knew there were missiles coming at her. She didn't know if the old Hunter even had countermeasures, and no time to find them, so she simply hauled the Hunter into the climb and pointed it at the sun, betting that she wasn't facing radar-guided missiles—the Hunter did have a radar warning receiver. She was right: the sudden climb confused the two Sidewinders, who began tracking overoptimistically at the sun, so Yang rolled over the top, ignored the two missiles that flashed past, and dived on her opponent—another L-39. She was set up for guns as well: the Hunter armed four 30mm cannon below Yang's feet. In her peripheral vision, she watched the F-14 cut across below her as Blake went to engage the two L-39s coming from the south.

Ruby slapped back the throttles and raised the nose, risking a stall; the sudden move surprised Neo, who was finally forced out front, breaking the scissors. Ruby, her teeth bared under the oxygen mask, pushed the throttles up and the nose down, determined to kill Neo Politan for good this time.

Little was miserable, her stomach in knots; somehow she had kept from vomiting all over the instrument panel or having her helmeted head bounced off the canopy again. She tried to keep the F-5 in sight, but a flash of sun off metal caught her attention. Little saw something that looked like a metal triangle coming in from the left. It didn't look like anything she'd seen at Silac, so she yelled "Um, bad guy! Bad guy, seven o'clock high!"

For a novice, Little had gotten it exactly right. Ruby took her eyes off Neo for a split-second and saw the MiG-21 curving in. Behind it, the Moonslice was trying to catch up, but Cheshire was still behind. "Watch him, Little! Tell me where he goes!" Ruby exclaimed, then returned her attention to Neo. The F-5 was suddenly no longer there: Neo had rolled and dived to pick up some speed, and Ruby turned to follow.

"He's behind us!" Little called out. The adrenaline shooting through her system was such that she suddenly didn't notice her upset stomach or the Gs of the dive. She fought against gravity, but kept her eyes on the MiG.

"Shit," Ruby grunted, and keyed the radio. "Ruby Lead is defensive."

Blake quickly switched to Sidewinders, then to the gun as the range closed too fast: the L-39s were in afterburner. One suddenly turned into her path, which in another second would have given Blake an easy gun kill, but then the pirate fired both Sidewinders, which came straight at the Tomcat.

"Flares!" Blake snapped at Marrow, but her hands and feet were already moving to dodge the missiles. Neither was guiding, even as Marrow pumped the countermeasures button, leaving a trail of magnesium flares in the F-14's path, and Blake prepared to ignore the first L-39 and take on the other, switching back to missiles.

The first L-39 suddenly turned back into her.

In a split-second of clarity, Blake knew what had happened: her opponent was inexperienced, and seeing his missiles had been fired too hastily, was now trying to make up for that with a gun pass—but he was too close for that as well, as now both the L-39 and the F-14 were seconds from a midair collision. Blake reacted without thinking, snapping the Tomcat into a hard right break and slamming the throttles into afterburner, climbing to avoid the collision. The two fighters barely missed each other, and the L-39 wallowed in the F-14's jetwash.

Blake had forgotten the F-14A's biggest weakness: its engines. The TF30 turbofans were prone to compressor stalls at high angles of attack and with sudden throttle movements—and Blake had just done both. The engines flamed out, the Tomcat stalled, and as Blake fought the controls, it went into a flat spin. "Oh shit!" she screamed, the fighter pilot's prayer, not realizing she had the radio button down.

Yang was tracking on her first opponent, the L-39, which apparently had lost sight of her and was headed for the base. "Sorry, FNG." Yang wore a predator's smile.

"Ruby Lead is defensive."

Her sister's words instantly caused Yang to look to her right, where she saw Ruby's F-5F, diving behind another F-5, with a MiG-21 settling in behind her. Her hand started to move the stick; a quick turn and dive, and she would be in a good position to kill the MiG.

"Oh shit!"

Blake's voice made Yang quickly look to the left, and to her horror, she saw the F-14 depart controlled flight and go into a spin. Both of Blake's opponents were ignoring her: one L-39 curved away in an attempt to rejoin the one Yang had been pursuing, while the other was trying to put some distance between himself and the Tomcat—only to suddenly turn. The F-14 was spinning out of control, but it was also a perfect target. Yang hesitated; another quick glance to the right saw the gray Moonslice hurtling past below, trying to line up on the MiG.

Yang snapped to the left, going after the L-39 going after Blake.

"This…is not…good!" Marrow struggled out, pressed against the side of the cockpit by centrifugal force. "Not…good!"

Blake willed herself to fix her eyes on the instrument panel; if she looked out of the cockpit, she would be hopelessly disoriented as the world spun around them. The altimeter was the important part: 18,000 feet and rapidly declining. The hills below were at 2000 feet. She chopped the throttles back to idle, pushed down as hard as she could on the right rudder pedal, the opposite direction of the spin, and then rammed the stick as far forward as it would go and kept it there. 16,000 feet. 14,000.

The F-14 was sluggishly starting to put the nose down. They weren't going to make it. "Eject, eject, eject!" she screamed. She couldn't reach the handles unless she let go of the stick, and the F-14 was command ejection-the RIO went out first.

"Can't…" Marrow was still pressed against the canopy. He tried to reach one hand up to the ejection handles atop the seat. He would die—the force of the ejection would snap his spine—but Blake might survive. But his hand came nowhere near the loops.

Then, suddenly, enough air was forced down the engines for them to relight with a bang. The spin slowed, Blake felt the controls were no longer slack, and gently advanced the throttles. They passed through 10,000 feet, and she pulled back on the stick. At 7500 feet, the F-14 gently came back to level flight—and into the crosshairs of the L-39 that had been tracking them on the way down.

The air pirate, however, was as inexperienced as Blake had thought. He had fired his missiles too early, nearly collided with the F-14, and now was fixated on his target. He never saw Yang until she fired. The four cannon tore away the L-39's tail before bisecting the fuselage, and it exploded. "Ruby Four, splash two! Ruby Three, you're clear!"

Marrow was finally able to pry himself off the side of the canopy. "Blake, check twelve!"

Blake put her head back in the headrest and saw to her surprise that the other L-39 was now ahead of her, in perfect Sidewinder parameters. She blinked, heard the growl in her earphones, and pulled the trigger twice. "Ruby Three, Fox Two!" The AIM-9s guided perfectly, and both blotted the L-39 from the sky.

"Let's not do that again," Marrow breathed.

Neo leveled off just above the trees, and Ruby did the same, knowing she was making herself a perfect target for the MiG-21, but determined to kill Neo before the MiG killed her. She had seen Yang break off for some reason out of the corner of one eye, but there was no time to worry about that.

The F-5 wasn't the only aircraft with poor vision to the rear: the MiG-21 was notorious for it. Cheshire proved it, coming up behind and below the old MiG and opening fire with the cannon. Smoke and flames erupted from the MiG's engine, and the pirate broke off his attack as the turbojet tore itself apart. The MiG coasted into the ridge below and exploded. "Ruby Two, splash three."

"Ruby Two, Banska Tower. Base under attack." The controller sounded remarkably calm. "New bandit formation: designate Raid-2. Raid-2 is six bandits, range 50, speed 450, bearing zero-eight one, altitude 8000."

"Shit," Cheshire breathed. The Jabberwockies had planned the attack well. The first wave had engaged the base's defenders, and now six more were on their way. Already Silac was being hit. Cheshire knew that fourteen aircraft was half the Jabberwockies' strength; there might be even more out there.

"Ruby Two, Lead. Engage Raid-2. This one's mine."

"Roger, Lead." Cheshire cursed as he broke away from covering Ruby's tail and headed northeast. It would be six to one, but it was better than letting them get a free run at the base.

Two MiG-21s and one L-39 had gotten past the merge and were now headed for Silac. The Bobs met them first, with Alyx and Weiss turning north to help. Alyx firewalled the A-4's throttle, knowing the Bobs were Cheshire's most inexperienced pilots. Already the first Bob was in trouble, with a MiG-21 behind him. "Ruby Seven, break right!" Alyx shouted.

Bob did so, and one Sidewinder missed, chasing a flare. The MiG pilot compensated, and fired a second. Bob broke again, but this time was a half second too slow. The Sidewinder went up the Skyhawk's tailpipe and blew the tail off; the aircraft spun end over end into a ridgeline. The MiG broke off and climbed.

The second Bob was using the A-4's maneuverability to its best, but his moves were predictable, as he kept weaving left and right. The L-39 behind him could nearly match the A-4, and started ranging with his cannon. "Ruby Eight here, this guy's all over me!"

"Ruby Eight, Six, hold on!" Alyx was trying to get her gunsight on the L-39. She couldn't use either of her Sidewinders; the missile might guide on Bob.

Weiss stayed behind Alyx, covering her rear, watching the sky. The G.91 was an Italian attack aircraft, not really a fighter, with two Sidewinders nestled under the wings and two 30mm cannon in the nose, but no radar. It was quick and nimble, though. She kept kicking the tail around to clear her own six o'clock.

The L-39 finally connected. Flames roared back from the Skyhawk's belly. Bob leveled out and ejected as the engine flamed out and it headed for the ground. The L-39 broke to the right with Alyx close behind—too close. The pirate suddenly climbed; as Alyx followed the L-39 into the climb, he broke, forcing the overshoot, then rolled upwards and down behind her. Alyx quickly turned to the right, but the L-39 pilot managed to get a deflection shot, and scored. Two 23mm shells shredded the A-4's rudder, and the Skyhawk leveled out as Alyx now fought the controls.

The L-39 now flew into Weiss' gunsight. She edged the G.91 to the left with a twitch of the stick, the fired, feeling the recoil of the heavy cannon. A wing tore free and the L-39 rolled into the ground. "Ruby Five, splash five." She did a quick check of the sky and flew up alongside Alyx. "Ruby Six, your rudder is pretty much gone."

"I can get back." Alyx's voice was thick with the struggle to keep the A-4 in the air. "Protect Silac!"

"Roger, on my way."

Neo climbed hard, Ruby hot behind her. The two leveled off above a bank of clouds, the squall line of the approaching thunderstorm. She threw down her flaps, and Ruby swore as she went past. Now it was Neo who was the hunter, but Ruby threw the F-5 into an Immelmann, dropping out of the air and diving for the ground as Neo did the same. Ruby began to climb, knowing she was edging into Neo's gunsight, hoping for it. She waited a precious half second, then broke to the right, a split second before Neo's burst would've taken her head off. Just as swiftly, Ruby reversed her break, pulling Neo back into the scissors, then rolled away, daring Neo to follow her again. Neo was happy to comply, accepting the stern chase. Ruby cheated the turn tighter and tighter. The G-meter had pegged, Little's eyes fluttered and she passed out, the F-5F rattled dangerously as the airframe was overstressed, and blackness crowded at Ruby's vision. She fought against seven Gs to turn her head and keep Neo in sight. The next second would prove if Ruby was right or if Neo would finally kill her.

Ruby was right. Neo couldn't hold the turn, as her own vision began to go and her F-5E started to vibrate dangerously. She broke off pursuit and climbed, and Ruby had what she wanted. She pulled the stick back to level flight, then pushed the engines into afterburner and climbed. She pulled back after only a second in afterburner, there was a muttered groan from Little as her head thunked back against the headrest and woke her up, and in Ruby's gunsight was Neo's F-5E, the pipper centered over the canopy and the white striped helmet. "Fucking die," Ruby snarled and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

The two MiG-21s had joined up and made one strafing run over the base, hitting the 40 millimeter Bofors gun emplacements first, silencing those and killing the gun crews. They then climbed and rolled out, getting ready to make a second run over the base at the fuel tank farm.

Weiss roared across the field, firing her guns, missing but forcing the MiGs to break off. She went between them and turned hard, before realizing just how low she was when telephone lines loomed right in front of her, on the perimeter of the base. She knew that she didn't have time to climb over them, so she held the stick level and went under them. Weiss resisted the temptation to close her eyes as her tail missed the wires by less than two feet; the engine carved a furrow into the ground behind her. Then she was past, and the MiG was in front, turning and leveling out itself. She heard the growl of the Sidewinder and fired. "Ruby Five, Fox Two." The missile tracked perfectly and hit the MiG right behind the cockpit, turning it into a fireball. "Splash six."

Weiss dodged the explosion and began to climb, but heard Yang scream, "Weiss, break left!" She pulled hard, feeling rather than seeing the ground a scant ten feet off her left wing, and spotted the second MiG coming in. Ahead of her was a hangar; the MiG was behind her. If she climbed, the MiG would kill her. If she stayed level, she would smash into the hangar.

I'm going to die, Weiss thought, and she felt incredibly stupid. To come all this way, and die either by hitting the ground or because of some idiot air pirate in a fighter older than her mother.

The MiG suddenly exploded as two Sidewinders slammed into it. Weiss didn't question why, and climbed, barely clearing the hangar; the remains of the MiG crashed into it. She blinked away the sweat streaming into her eyes. "Thanks, Yang."

"No prob, Weiss. Ruby Four, splash seven!"

"What the hell?" Ruby shouted, and pulled the trigger again. Still nothing. Then she realized the F-5's guns were jammed, a result of the extreme stress she had put on the airframe in the turn.

Neo didn't question her salvation. She hammerheaded around and dived, headed for the cloud. Ruby swore and went after her again, even as she noticed that her fuel was low. But so is Neo's, she thought with satisfaction.

"All Rubies, Juniper Lead, squawk flash."

"Huh?" The sudden call took her by surprise. The voice sounded like Pyrrha, but she couldn't be sure. Pyrrha wouldn't be anywhere near here.

"Juniper Lead, Ruby Two," Cheshire answered. "Parrot is sweet. Who are—"

"Juniper Lead, Fox Three."

Ruby caught just the briefest of flashes out of her peripheral vision, then six more tiny flashes, gone so fast that she thought she had imagined them. She heard Cheshire blaspheme, and saw the Moonslice suddenly come back in the opposite direction, towards her. Then there were six fireballs in succession, followed by six smoke trails that terminated in the forest below.

Ruby quickly looked away, frantically scanning the sky for Neo, but the other F-5 was gone. "Ruby Two, Ruby Lead, do you see the other F-5?"

"Ah, negative, Ruby Lead. Don't see them."

"Little? Little, you okay?"

"Yes, strangely enough…I don't see anything either. What was that? All those explosions?"

Dammit, Ruby thought. Neo had gotten away. Well, maybe I scared her for once. She turned back towards Silac as the reserve fuel light came on. "Juniper Lead, Ruby Lead, identify and state?"

"Ruby Lead, Juniper. Don't have authorization, my state is bingo minus seven. I'm sorry." Ruby started laughing as the F-22 Raptor came into view. She was critically low on fuel, but those two words instantly identified Pyrrha Nikos.