My plane jolted as it landed, shuddering as it slowed to a stop near the end of the runway. I turned it to the right and stopped in a hanger. Mechanics looked in surprise and ran to my plane once it stopped. The Canopy opened and I crawled out, took a few uneven steps and threw my helmet of before vomit spilled out my throat. Kneeling, I started dry heaving, trying to keep the memory of the pilot spinning towards the earth out of mind. A rough hand slapped my back and a low voice said "Come on, we need you back up in the air soon."
What little blood there was left in my face drained as I seethed "My plane is done! Look at the fucking wing!"
Mojaves some-what familiar voice said "Young, this is a direct order. Everythings been scrambled, we'll wait for whatever repairs the mechanics can do on your plane in eight minutes, then we have to leave."
I shook my head and viciously mumbled "Yes sir."
What felt like seconds passed before the mechanics okayed my fighter and I was climbing back in. My helmet slid back onto my head and I connected the oxygen supply. I took of last, pulling to the left to compensate. As we flew, the sun fell below the earth, the darkness showing of the bright tracers and explosions in the distance. We caught up with a group of bombers and soon received multiple missile locks from a cruiser below. AA guns shuddered below, aiming at the few fighter in our group without the ability to deflect radar-including mine. We swerved back and forth, deploying flares as we went.
Sidewinder said "We're diving with Eagle six and seven, they'll be carpet bombing the surface of the Yalym- Yalymagr- fuck it, carrier Y, pinged now on your helmets."
A small triangle on my visor highlighted a large dark shape below. Sidewinder ordered "Dive on my mark... mark!"
Weightlessness gently pulled me out of my seat momentarily as I cut the engine before gravity and the afterburner slammed me back into the seat. Our attack group flew towards the ocean. Everything looked darker before I pulled up at six hundred feet, narrowly dodging a missile at the last moment.
Duke yelled "What the hell was that?!"
Eagle seven screamed to my right, fell a hundred meters on fire and hit the ocean, disintegrating on impact.
Sidewinder said "Command, missiles just came in without any lock on warnings screaming!"
"Hold up Hound... reports indicate the missiles do not require a heat signature, repeat, do not require a heat signature, flares do not seem effective."
A click away, the front of the gigantic carrier lit up, bright lights approaching us fast. Eagle six accelerated beside me and yelled "I can not deviate Hound one, need a straight line!"
Tracer rounds shot past my plane and I banked to the left out of fear of smacking the last bomber. My wing shrieked under the strain and I gripped the joystick harder, mumbling "Just a little longer..."