The whole of Avalon came about as the MiG nosed over the top of Lonnie’s reversal and for a moment he could see everything: Vast undisturbed plains, rivers and sharp mountain escarpments in the distance. It was just like Keith had described, clean and new, undisturbed. In some ways it looked like Western China where he’d learned to fly. Drab browns and greens spackled over the landscape pallet with strokes of rock and dust for miles some still hiding in morning shadows. As the nose came down he could almost smell the mix of AeroShell and braised Yak meat from his youth. 

“Two Pair, coming up.” Xi said from the back. Lonnie was stretching out the arc of his second pass to keep the sun with them. The caution alarms blared. He knew the Yerrill wouldn’t be as welcoming on this pass. Two more had fallen away in flames from Ranger Five’s pass and the rest had regrouped quickly. The standard Yerrill fighters of the line, he knew, could never catch them, but their fallback tactic against a high speed attacker was a bizarre boxing maneuver designed to contain the speed of the faster human craft. By using their physics-defying agility to keep their guns trained, they could force a speed fighter into turns, thus making him vulnerable. 

The bait was to attack either one of the pairs as they split away. Two went high, almost vertical and two ducked away opposite. “Still two loose shots out there from Five.” Xi reported. Lonnie laid into the burners and the MiG accelerated downhill like a truckload of bricks. He resisted the urge to try another Archer shot like he had on the straggler that had moved too soon on the first pass. He could see Ranger Five coming up from the deck trailing a pair of Yerrill as well. Beyond him, Ranger One was drawing considerable ground fire. There was no sign of the F-16. It seemed at least that the fighters were primarily interested in them since their flight lead was now unprotected. 

“Did we lose Two?” Lonnie asked as they charged into the gap. 

“Not sure,” Xi replied.  He was working feverishly in the back to direct the two unguided missiles and make use of Ranger Five’s rearward facing shot. “Go for the pair trailing five and get ready to see some serious shit.”

Under Xi’s guidance, the two forlorn shots launched unguided by Ranger Five found a new purpose and for a moment the Yerrill chasing down Clem’s MiG-23 found [i]their[/i] warning sirens blaring from obtuse angles. The trailing fighter broke away immediately as one of the missiles now under the MiG-31’s guidance came howling in from above barely missing. Xi deftly countered by firing off Clem’s remaining aft shot which streaked away smartly and buried itself in the starboard wing-root sending the alien craft ricocheting away in an electrical corkscrew of smoke like a pinball game. Almost simultaneously, the lead unit, fixated on the slowly opening wings of the MiG-23, was smeared across the sky as the other shot under Xi’s control struck pay dirt.  

“Well that was hardly sporting.” Lonnie cackled. 

They blazed past Clem in a dirty trail of rich exhaust and orange flame. Lonnie was keeping the speed up to prevent the other Yerrill from working the box maneuver on any of them. He cocked the MiG up on its side and Xi knowingly withdrew a small pair of binoculars to check the effects of Ranger Lead’s bombing run. 

“Good effect on targets, Lead,” Xi reported scanning quickly. “…Multiple secondaries.” He could spot several mangled Yerrill ground vehicles with purple and blue smoke rising from their hulks. The other vehicles were scrambling to keep moving and get around them, but the pass they were traversing seemed to be blocked with burning wrecks for at least the time being. 

The g-forces struck hard as Lonnie pulled them skyward again. He never liked being too close to the ground in the ‘31. It felt out of place. The sound of the AWACs controller broke in unexpectedly assigning them a new helper. Both men glanced over the port wing and listened to the new call sign assignments.
 
“[i]It’s a bloody Harrier[/i].” Lonnie said, almost stunned.

“At least he’s getting right to it.” Xi replied as they saw the little jump jet turn to engage [i]with the cannon[/i]. 

“We only drink Guinness,” Lonnie replied over the coms. The MiG was soaring back to altitude like a rocket launch, “But we can add you to the mess tab if you survive in that kite."