Chương 177: Chapter 175 – Unfriendly Skies

With his poncho on over his float harness, Cole crossed the rainswept airstrip to the waiting transport planes. He had to duck to step up into the opening, where he turned around and started helping the others up one-by-one. Besson and Howie had to bend over nearly double, but they both got in and tucked down to make room for the others. Nona and Roxy barely had to duck at all. A dozen Starlit squeezed into the transport with them.

Like the fighter aircraft, the pilot crawled forward into a prone cockpit with his hands on the controls. Cole leaned out to where Nakaniel directed the troops into the transports.

"Tight fit," he yelled over the rain. The dark-feathered Starlit cackled.

"Without you, we could fit twice their number and fly faster besides. Let's hope you're worth the laggard pace, eh? I'll be right behind you."

"Do our best," said Cole. He brought his legs around and inside the cabin, drawing them up close to his chest. Rather than safety belts, the Starlit had straps they clipped to oh-shit rings built into the roof of the cabin. Cole took one of them and looped it under his shoulder strap. Even able to glide and fall gently, falling into an ice-cold sea would be the death of him. Ashfeather climbed in after him. Great. Two of the escort fighters began humming.

A soft glow enveloped the salt crystals on their sides, powering up their arcane propulsion systems. They rolled forward, then out onto the airstrip where they put on speed and lifted into the air. Another transport went up, then two more fighters, and the process repeated until the walls of the cabin began to vibrate.

"Our turn," said Roxy. Howie looked pale beside Cole, much to the amusement of the Starlit. Cole thumped him on the chest.

"Not much worse than a C-130, right?" The Marine just shot him a death glare and tightened his strap. Nutmeg and Clove whined as the humming crystals' tone pitched up near the top-end of the hearing range, but settled as Besson put a hand on each of them. Alexa's familiar reconfigured into its turret structure, latching on to the open door and angling its guns outward. Unpaved taxiway rolled by underneath.

Even with the heavy rain, the surface had been structured with paving stones that drained the water and made the strip traversable, rather than a long ditch of sucking mud. The aircraft turned, and they transitioned to the long strip. Their two escort fighters took off first, shooting ahead of them on the strip and leaving faint glowing trails from their salt crystals. Then a wave of acceleration hit Cole and the transport built speed down the strip.

It traveled at least twice as far down the runway as the fighters, leaving an alarmingly short amount of length left before it finally rotated, pitching up and leaving the ground behind. One of the aircrew began to crank a mechanism, drawing up the landing gear. Wayland pointed up and out of the aircraft.

"Look," he said. High above, another group of fighters and transports were already on the wing.

"Are they with us?" The aircrew Starlit leaned out of the cabin and looked up.

"From the tribe on the other side of the mountain. They have answered the call." The other tribe's aircraft were subtly different in shape and silhouette. Cole counted another eight fighters and three transports. They must have had at least one hundred, maybe one-fifty Starlit soldiers packed into these planes. The fighters ranged ahead in the storm, scouting for draconic threats.

Hours passed in the tight, uncomfortable cabin, flying through the pitch-dark sky before Cole spotted a break in the clouds and the hint of stars shining through. The patter of rain on the top of the aircraft lessened. Some of the soldiers in the cabin with them started to look out nervously. Cole tapped one of the air crew.

"Why are they so on edge?" The Starlit looked back at Cole as he unpacked the next set of crystals that would propel the transport.

"Without cover of weather, Lord, the Thunderwinged could come at any time."

"How close are we to their islands?"

"We fly between two of them now. A brother tribe holds territory ahead. We will land there to refuel." Howie groaned.

"Great, more takeoffs and landing."

"Just think of it like island hopping in the South Pacific," said Cole.

"You're honoring your Marine heritage." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work! The Marine infantryman paused a moment to consider.

"Okay, yeah, that's kind of cool. Like we're heading for Guadalca-woooah!" The aircraft banked left, suddenly. Cole braced his knee against the door frame as several soldiers squawked in surprise. When they leveled out, again, several soft glows of the escort fighters now raced in the opposite direction.

"We've been spotted," the Starlit said. Cole leaned his head out into the slipstream, looking back. It was incredibly dark, even with his enhanced acuity. But he caught the flash and flicker of distant lightning, and a reptilian silhouette against the clouds. Then another. It climbed in response to the fighters.

"I see them," said Cole.

"Two tangos on our six."

"I hate this," said Howie.

"I know you hate flying," said Cole.

"Not that. Being stuck in here, being escorted. Being helpless." Cole looked at his teammate, who had regained some color, but now looked anxious, rather than scared stiff.

"We're not helpless. Howie, get over here." Howie muttered under his breath, but Wayland shifted out of the way so that Howie could scoot closer to the door. He reached the extent of his strap, and Cole attached a new one before disconnecting the old. He maneuvered around Howie's back and unstrapped his new mortar tube from Hexighast. He brought it around, handing it to Howie.

"Giant slaying and swarming, right? Tell me you took the hardened munition evolution." Howie looked back.

"It's not meant to be fired sideways. We need to brace it somehow." He looked around.

"Besson, hold the plate here for me."

"You serious?" asked Besson.

"Just get over here!" Besson looked dubious, but he scooted into position and pulled the steel baseplate for the mortar. He held it up against the bottom of the mortar, braced with his shoulder. Cole held the tube from underneath, helping to support and stabilize it while Howie did the aiming. With his head next to the muzzle, this suddenly didn't seem as great an idea. But it could be worse. He could be holding the baseplate, like Besson.

"Can't see what I'm aiming at," mumbled Howie.

"How close are they?" Before Cole could burn a half-charge to mark the dragons, a bolt of lightning breath streaked across the sky just a few hundred meters behind them, blowing apart one of the Starlit fighters and casting the underside of the massive dragon in sharp relief against the dark clouds. Howie flinched. The sky went dark again, but Cole quickly activated his marking to keep track of the dragons.

Three red silhouettes appeared in the air, along with a handful of blue ones darting through the air around them. The Starlit troops inside the transport began to unpack and load rifles, for all the good they would do.

"Closer than we want," said Cole. He felt the pop of charges being burned and turned his head away from the muzzle.

"Fire in the hole!" The mortar thundered, blasting away the small, glowing shell of ethereal energy. It streaked out towards the dragon, then burst into a cloud of red motes that veered towards the closest of the Thunderwinged. The swarm of micro-munitions impacted a barrier, crashing against it like hail until it shattered under the pressure of Howie's new evolution. The remaining swarm munitions streaked in through the gap, bursting against the flank of the dragon in small pinpricks of red light.

"Fuck, that hurt!" said Besson. The sizzling fire-cracker report of the impact reached them just before the rage and pain filled roar of the dragon. It didn't fall out of the sky, but it did stumble, dropping in altitude as it struggled to keep flying. The nimble Starlit fighters wheeled around and dove, harrying the weakness in its defenses.

"Good hit," said Cole. He tracked one of the other silhouettes, closer this time, and pointed.

"There! Again!" Howie summoned a new munition directly in the tube.

"Fire in the hole!" The muzzle concussion felt like getting slapped across the face. This time, the munitions split and impacted almost immediately, illuminating a dragon that had come close enough that when it flared off alongside them, Cole couldn't see both wingtips at once. Infantry on its back began to fire at the aircraft with small arms. A round punched through the aircraft, just above Cole's head. Besson shouted in pain behind him and dropped the mortar plate, gripping his arm.

Another pierced the panel to the aft and punched into a Starlit trooper. Pandemonium erupted in the cabin space. Several of the Starlit returned fire with their bolt-action rifles, filling the cabin with acrid smoke in the process. But their shots mainly sparked off its thick scales. Even though the draconic paratrooper weapons were deadly, they still weren't the main threat. Cole focused on the dragon itself as it began to gather lightning between its fangs for a breath attack.

The swarm munitions broke through its barrier and crashed into its chest and throat, spraying blood and flesh that smelled acrid and foul. The heat and shockwave from the blast reached them, washing over the aircraft and rocking the wings away. Howie almost fell backwards, but Besson caught him and held him upright with his good arm. The dragon's gathered lightning breath went wide, carving a glaring wedge of electricity directly overhead of the aircraft and standing Cole's hair on end.

Even if there were time for it, the dragon had come so close that another mortar shell would be just as dangerous to their own aircraft as the dragon. Cole felt several charges being burned behind him, and the dragon's blood began to steam at the wound. It thrashed in the air, confused by the sudden blood curse.

"I can't keep this up!" Wayland shouted.

"It's too strong!" Cole brought his own rifle up, instead. Big game, he thought, as the ravenous rifle hissed steam and shifted into its high caliber configuration. He burned a charge of meteoric leap, as well, concentrating on the rounds within his weapon. He didn't have room to jump, but it ought to be possible to skip the middleman and push that kinetic energy directly into his rounds. His ability resisted for a moment before relenting.

He felt the energy ping back and forth within his own body before flowing down through his fingertips and into his rifle. The otherworld armament grew hot in his hands, sending an impulse of anticipation. You and me both, buddy, thought Cole. He burned the innate ability in his new amulet, as well, pushing his penetration power as high as it would go to attempt to proc the necrotizing bullets. He drew a bead on the dragon's injured throat and pulled the trigger.