Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-31401828-20170602122803/@comment-30700719-20170909022930

The lead squadrons break formation, cartwheeling and ducking through the air. Despite their skill, some of their flying machines catch some heat (get hit by attacks), bursting into flames. Their pilots get forcibly teleported back to their F.O.B., just a second before the fuel tanks ignite. The squadrons collectively come to a stop, still dodging fire easily, and begin to circle around the prison in an aerial pincer movement. Meanwhile, hundreds of kilometres away, the real force amasses, blocking out the sky in their collective numbers.

I wake up with a start. "Wossat? Huh?" I sit up and dab at my eyes. "What the hell is going on? Hey, you, on the opposite side. What's going on here?"