[b] [u] Jackson Shaw [/u] [/b]

As Jackson listened to the AWACS operator, it became clear that there was some crazy shit going down. Before he could respond, the kid in the other F-14 did it for him. [b]"Declaring yourself the leader of our little bunch, eh kid?"[/b] He said over the comms. He was just screwing around, but he hoped someone would correct him. He didn't have the slightest goddamn idea who was in charge. [b]"Amy? I want you to mark that other F-14, I'm gonna watch his back."[/b] He said (Comms closed) to his A.I co-pilot. There was a soft beep as the other plane was marked with several blue lines.

He was about to speak again but he was surprised to find the other guy just blazing ahead. With a smirk, he poured on his own afterburners, easily keeping up with the slightly older model. Zooming ahead, he managed to acquire a lock on a [i]particularly[/i] uppity... drone, by the looks, that looked like making his soon to be friend into a nice soft bullet sponge. He pushed his favorite button, sending a sidewinder (With 'Get Fucked' crudely painted on it) its way. [i]"You may wish to conserve your weaponry, major."[/i] The A.M.M.I said, in its usual feminine monotone, chiding him for his overzealousness with his weapons. [b]"Relax, it's just one."[/b] He flipped on the Comms again. [b]"Hey, I'm all for charging ahead but you might wanna make sure you have a wingman [i]before[/i] you do that,"[/b] He sort of trailed off, obviously waiting for a name.