Shy Lion.
The Proud Hyena from your company has taken our food and murdered a pack member, you must acquire reparations for us or else we will not be paying for your share of the prize. This will have dire consequences for us, and I doubt Pack Leader will enjoy hearing news of this loss.
Invisible Elephant.
Pilots Log: Russ Hubermun, Vanir-97a Planetary Date: 3600, September 45th, year 500 / Earth year 5030
Pilots Log encrypted (reason: criminal activity) … Enter Code: *****
Success
Climbing out at 65 knots, I watch as bursts of plasma shots fly past the aircraft. My goal is to reach three thousand feet above the ground and fly north a bit before making a large circle back to base. The shots flew by harmlessly into the night sky. The Element 430 canisters I hurriedly loaded in the back of the plane were starting to overheat. Trimming out the aircraft for a nose high 65 knot ascent and tightening the throttle position at full, I climb into the back to switch out the cooling pods.
Each canister has one cooling pod slot, which much be changed regularly when not in the proper storage container. The cooling pods are full of liquid nitrogen which circulates through the canister when inserted, making the canisters hard to handle if you don’t know what you’re doing. In the back of the plane, I keep attention to my airspeed indicator and rate of bank indicator from the corner of my eye as I start positioning the canisters and cooling pods for a quick switcheroo. Grabbing the sunken handle on the overheated cooling pod with a rag from the cargo compartment I quickly turn, pull and toss the cooling pod, trying not to burn myself from the super-heated steam that comes rushing through.
With the used cooling pod out, I very quickly grab the new one with the rag and lift it into position. With a loud clang and sizzle I push and turn the pod into place. “One down, three to go.” By the third change out my arm was burned, and my back was soar from being crammed in the tiny cargo area of the type 172. I took a quick look at the rate of turn indicator to find the plane had started banking left and my airspeed indicator had started decreasing. I hobbled back to the cockpit and corrected the planes attitude, seeing I had gained around two thousand feet. Grumbling, I got back into the cargo bay to finish the job. Right as the cooling pod had been slid into place and locked, I heard the unmistakable roar of propellor engine and then the terrifying sight of an old timey Super Cub design completely violating my safe space, flying an intercept maneuver way too close for comfort. The wake from the notoriously high-performance bush plane rocked my plane violently, sending me into the canisters.
“I bet that was fucking Barry.” I muttered behind grit teeth. “Mother Fucker!” I threw myself into the cockpit and corrected the impending stall. Barry the pilot who had stopped me to ask questions about the canisters and ultimately called the entire settlement on me had got in his plane to come chase me. “Let’s have some fun!”
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I threw the throttle to idle and yanked the yoke to the right and forward. I entered an extremely steep spiral to the right. As the plane descended, I turned off all my lights and got my Heilsman from my belt and loaded a few plasma rounds. Leveling out, I swung open the windows and started looking for my assailant. Barry had attempted to get behind me but was surprised by my incredibly crazy maneuver and found himself above and in front of me. I tried to line up a shot. It was basically going to be impossible to hit him, but I squeezed the trigger anyway, and a nice dark purple rod of plasma thumped into the sky. I hit?
Not expected my shot to hit, I watched as the plasma flew through his wing and into the stars, the hole was big, enough to have scared even me, but it seemed superficial. Admiring my work, I noticed a purple flash fly by my window quicker than I could’ve reacted. It was a dog fight.
Having that scare brought me back to reality, and I threw open the throttle and started and extremely steep climb. Dog fights are all about energy conservation after all, and if I wanted to win, I would need all I could get. Being behind him gave me the advantage, but he was higher than me so I would lose a game of attrition, not to mention he has way more performance than me. I got directly behind my enemy and watched as he started a turn to the right, to line up another shot. I quickly discharged a round that flew past him into the dark crimson surface below as I turned left to stay in his blind spot. I couldn’t turn steep enough. His Super Cub outperformed my Type-172 in basically every way, and I watched as he turned around, close enough to see him aiming at me. I pulled back harder on the yoke as he let out a shot that flew right under me, and then I had to let the plane retrieve some speed back.
Barry used my moment of weakness from relieving all my energy to dodge to get right behind me, and then couldn’t see him at all. Shot after shot flew past, getting freakishly closer and closer, one bounced off my right window, melting the glass it touched. I had to do something. I could only think of one thing. Being at close to stall speed already, I let down full flaps and started a steep climb. What I was setting myself up for was obvious to anyone, but I was going to add some spice to it. I grabbed my Heilsman and hyped myself up for the craziest trick shot only I will ever see or hear of. The stall horn starting blaring, I kicked the rudder left and held back on the yoke.
As the right wing was thrust forward ahead of the left, it was given a higher angle of attack and as such, higher lift. Being in a stall, the left wing would not be able to compensate and will drop the ball, letting the right wing force the plane over itself into a spiral. I would be in a spin. The first ninety degrees would be my only window of opportunity. Holding my gun out of my window and aiming, the plane kicked over and started a nosedive, while spinning. I watched as the sky went from a dark shade of blue to dark crimson as the plane flipped over and my opponent appeared off my left side. He had slowed down, which was smart if I had only been attempting to get behind him. Instead, he was now a sitting duck, having no more energy, having to watch in horror as I traded my altitude for speed and a small chance to get a lucky shot off. My window of opportunity was so short. Being lined up, I put the plane in my cross hair and squeezed. The gun let off a nice thump as it sent the magnetic goo soaring threw the night sky.
Yellow burning flame,
Glorious hue of death’s hold
Mercy upon thee.
The plasma punctured a hole through the left tank, igniting the left wing in a fabulous show of yellow flames. The plane became like a shooting star through the night sky. Recovering my spin, I watched as the plane disappeared below the tree line.
My heart was beating a million miles an hour, I couldn’t believe that I had pulled it off. I had imagined doing it forever, but to think it was possible. I doubted I could ever reenact it; everything was too perfect. All I had to do now was get home. I turned to my multi-function display and plotted a route home.