The White Ravens were late in taking off, preferring to allow the scouts to enter the portal first. Ingrid did not bother to wait on the deck for her turn to take off. Instead she took a short nap to recover from summoning her elementals. She was surprised to find out that three hours had passed before there was a time slot to convert her fighter jet and allow her to take off.

As she walked out on deck, Reese was in her "Fat Meg" fighter jet preparing to take off. Ingrid's own fighter jet had just been converted. Hexagonal cages surrounded the cabin and each of the missiles. There was a small lightning rod on the top of the tail, at the end of each wing, and on the nose. In addition, there were long wicks on the wings and horizontal stabilizer. As Ingrid climbed the ladder, Ashe, no longer a child but having taken the smaller form with wings, fluttered up onto her shoulder. Once the canopy was locked with Ingrid inside, she needed to summon a Metal Elemental just to close and seal the cage. The nose was a bit sluggish on takeoff and the top speed seemed to be slightly lower.

"I predict that this is not going to work and you are going to get cooked in there," Ashe said.

"And then what?" Ingrid asked.

"Then I'll bring you back, and me and my sister can compete against each other... we can figure out which of us can bring back the most important people."

"Is that... really possible?"

"No, you idiot."

Ingrid easily caught up to Reese and they flew through the portal together. Below was a forest of towering yellow pillars of rock streaked with red and copper veins. It was a badland of canyons and crags, lit by an unseen sun, under a black sky. Against that black sky there were brilliant white flashes of light. The White Ravens were patrolling just inside, six fighters in a triangle formation, with Natasha spotting a short distance behind.

One magenta Colored Orb flashed. "Ingrid, follow me," Natasha said. "If we get separated, find me immediately."

Ingrid pulled up near Natasha's white fighter jet and kept her distance, following behind and to one side.

"Up here!" Natasha insisted. "Fly with your wing almost touching mine, then slide back a few feet. Reese, stay close enough to see us. The Ravens will keep you safe."

A few feet! Ingrid thought. She crept closer and closer to the other woman's airplane.

"Right there. Stay in that position, hold formation."

Every fluctuation in the air caused tiny motions in both airplanes. Ingrid noticed that the tips of Natasha's wings seemed to flex up and down very slightly with each jolt. It was a constant struggle to hold the same position relative to Natasha's fighter as she made huge turns through the sky.

"How long do I have to stay here and fly like this?" Ingrid asked.

"The entire flight," Natasha said. "I realize you have probably never done anything like this before. Ivan says you are good in a dogfight, but Vaska has repeatedly complained about your inability to follow orders, your reckless behavior while flying, and your general lack of professionalism as a military pilot. You need to learn teamwork, Ingrid."

Ingrid had no response. She flew in silence, constantly glancing at the other fighter and adjusting her own position.

"Eventually you will be able to hold the formation without any mental effort," Natasha said. "Then you will not have any blind spots. Your teammates will tell you where the enemy is. Enemies will not want to merge with the airplanes in your formation, in fact they may be so intimidated that they run away."

"That sounds... like it could be useful," Ingrid admitted.

"Strength in numbers," Ashe said.

Ingrid flew in silence once again. They followed the six Ravens as they flew in formation, and Natasha would occasionally scold individual pilots for being slightly out of position.

"How long have you been doing this?" Ingrid asked.

"I have six thousand hours of flight time in fighters," Natasha said. "I flew my first fighter jet when I was ten years old. Back in those days, there were no real laws or regulations about flying fighters."

"And how old are you now?"

"Twenty-eight. Most of my hours have been recent years. I have been flying ten hours a day every day of the year, almost." Then Natasha switched to a different magenta Orb, and screamed: "Slot! You are too far back, move up!"

"Ten hours a day... how do you pee?" Ingrid asked in a whisper.

"Strategic retreats followed by a landing," Natasha said.

"Contacts, thirty-three miles ahead," Reese said. "Eight fighters. It looks like they snuck past the scouts. They are heading straight for... Ingrid."

"Eight," Ingrid said. "How do they know where I am?"

"They most certainly know where I am," Ashe said.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Next time you stay on the airship."

"Nope! I need to stay near you, so I can get my power back when you purify one of Titania's sisters."

"Describe their formations," Natasha said.

"There is a diamond formation of four jets," Reese said. "There is a larger jet behind them, a fighter by itself, and a pair of fighters."

"The four fighters must be Alen, Jadran, Izak, and Karlo," Ingrid said. "The large jet in the back is Ferdo, the solo fighter is Bertrand, and the pair are the twins, Amalia and Emil."

"Send one hypersonic missile to each pack," Natasha said.

"Affirmative," Reese said. "Dark-Three!" One of the four large missiles on Fat Meg's wings left the rail, and rocketed off vertically into the sky.

"They do not have Dark Elementals anymore," Ingrid noted.

"We keep the old designation," Natasha said. "Our radar systems can replace the old shadow hunters easily. No sense in spending time and money retraining our pilots."

"Dark-Three! Dark-Three! Dark-Three!" The other three hypersonic missiles left Fat Meg's wings, and vanished into the starry sky.

Ingrid continued to fly in formation with Natasha, spending most of her mental energy focusing on not snapping her own wing off. The bright lights of the four hypersonic missiles became too faint to see as they closed the distance with the enemy. The desert floor and starry sky-horizon was broken by flashes of light after a brief delay.

"Report," Natasha snapped.

"Three of the four enemy fighters in formation were destroyed by the first missile," Reese replied. "It struck the slot fighter and the explosion took out the right and left wing. The lead survived. Both solo fighters were killed. One fighter from the pair survived the last missile."

"The moon is getting very close," Natasha warned. "Burst formation! Burst formation! Ingrid, leave my wing. Minimum safe distance... one mile. Spread out!"

Ingrid breathed a sigh of relief as she pulled away from the other woman's wing. She pointed her nose toward the ground and gained airspeed as Natasha flew up and out of sight. The six White Ravens indeed performed a burst, as Natasha had called it, spreading out in unique directions, their contrails leaving an opening hand-shape in the sky.

The pale-yellow moon flew overhead faster than the fastest fighter jet, and the horizon was consumed by lightning. Lightning struck Ingrid's tail once as she descended, and once again on one of the lightning rods on the tip of her wing as she turned. For all the millions and millions of lightning bolts that ravaged the ground and boiled the lakes and rivers, only two struck Ingrid's jet as it flew. Turbulent air assaulted her airplane, causing it to jolt and shutter. The mist cleared, and the sky was empty once again.

Except for a silvery flash.

White-hot bullets lanced out from that silver flash, and Ingrid instinctively rolled to one side to dodge. Somehow, through the blinding light of the lightning, one of the enemy fighters zoned in on her exact location. As the silver flash passed overhead, Ingrid instantly recognized that she was in a merge. The enemy turned toward the ground, and Ingrid turned toward the sky. A two-circle fight mostly in the vertical dimension.

A vertical loop. At the top of the loop Ingrid realized, she could take risks with her nose. Usually, violent motions in a two-circle fight would cost airspeed, however in a vertical fight, those same violent motions could lead to the nose being pointed at the ground, which would increase airspeed to compensate.

The enemy must have realized this, because he, and Ingrid was certain that it was Jadran, rolled to one side as Ingrid crested the loop, preventing her from dropping her nose straight on his head. She followed him into the two-circle, however his jet appeared to be faster. The fleshy yellow-red rockscape rushed below, and the stars left white streaks in Ingrid's vision. Waves of white steam rushed past, to rejoin the other boiled lakes in the sky high above. Jadran reached the bottom of his loop and began to ascend, fighting against gravity.

Ingrid took this opportunity to yank on the stick and point her nose at him. "Ice-Two!" she cried as a missile left the rail. It had not traveled a hundred feet before it exploded, showering her fighter in shrapnel and cracking the glass on her canopy.

"What the hell!?" Ingrid said. Her canopy hissed as the air escaped. "Wind! Prevent the air from leaving!"

Through the cracked glass, she could see Jadran complete his two-circle with his faster jet, patiently looping. Patient, ever patient, just as he had been when Ingrid had killed him. She pulled up on the stick to not fall too far behind, and then shivered.

That was a mistake.

Just as she wanted to point her nose down at him without risk, he could point his nose down at her and gain airspeed, even as he unloaded bullets at her. She craned her neck to look up at him as they finished swapping positions in the sky. He violently jerked his nose toward her, as expected. She rolled and dodged the stream of bullets with an equally violent pull on the stick. Bullets slammed against her tail, ripping the rudder clear away and most of the left horizontal stabilizer. Her nose jolted and the glass of her canopy began to crack further.

"This is very bad," Ashe said.

A shower of white bullets raced across the sky, catching Jadran like a fish in a net. His fighter jet exploded, sending waves of molten metal and black smoke out in every direction. The White Ravens, all six of them, rotated and faced Ingrid as she fell from the sky. "Dead," she hissed as she turned her attention back to the nose of her airplane. The horizon was rotating around her. A flat spin.

The ground was getting closer.

"Fire of my spirit!" Ingrid cried. "From the nose, shoot fire up, and counter to the direction of my spin!"

Ingrid began to lose her vision slightly as the High Daughter of Fire appeared at the tip of her nose, her long legs wrapped in a loop around the cone. With one arm up and one arm out, fire shot out into the sky. Sense returned to Ingrid's controls as the rotation ended and the nose pointed toward the ground. The airspeed recovered in time to avoid the ground, but not before Ingrid fell into a deep chasm, lined with yellow-red rock walls.

With half an elevator and no rudder, Ingrid flew through the chasm, dodging through the curvy rock walls and oversized stalagmites. She barked commands to her fire Elemental to shoot fire at the ground to make up for the reduced elevator effectiveness. As she emerged from the chasm, she had almost forgotten where she was. The flight had been automatic. She did not know how she was still in control.

Natasha's fighter jet pulled up alongside Ingrid.

"That was quite possibly the worst dogfighting I have ever seen," Natasha said. "A vertical loop! He could just point his nose at you and recover the airspeed lost!"

"I need... to go back." Ingrid said.

"Obviously," Natasha said. "I hope you realized... that you need to learn teamwork. Especially considering they will just keep coming back. Over, and over again."

"You should punch out," a familiar voice said. Glenice rushed past Ingrid in her two-person trainer. Ingrid assumed that one of the seats was empty. "Punch out and ride back with me. "

"Wind! Stop the airspeed from hitting me!" Ingrid said as she reached down and yanked hard on the red ejection lever. The rockets burst alight, but the blast of airspeed did not knock her out. Her fighter fell ahead of her, crippled and smoking hot. It listed, missing the rudder, and plummeted into a flat spin once again.