Page 64 of Stalk the Sky
They hadn’t counted on facing enemy aeroplanes today. None of the Mongavarian gasoline-powered aeroplanes had the range to reach Dar Goranth, much less make it there and back.
There had been some experimentation with trying to launch an aeroplane from a ship, but so far no ship was big enough to hold a runway long enough for an aeroplane to gain sufficient speed for a successful takeoff.
But aeroplanes wouldn’t need a long runway if launched from an airship. They would just need a long enough runway to get a bit of momentum and control before they plunged off the end. The downward plunge would give the aeroplane enough speed to catch itself and fly.
It would still be dangerous, and Fieran had to give the Mongavarian pilots credit. It took a great deal of bravery to attempt a takeoff like that.
But if those cages had held aeroplanes, where were they?
That roaring engine noise grew even louder. Why did it seem to be reverberating from above and not just from all around him where the airships steamed?
“Incoming! They have—” Fieran didn’t manage to get the words out.
“Fieran! Above you!” Merrik shouted over the radio even as he peeled his aeroplane away, pointing the nose upward.
Fieran glanced upward, then spat a crude word. He barely had time to cast a layer of magical protection in front of him and Merrik before a hail of bullets pounded from above. A mass of aeroplanes with the blue and white bars of Mongavaria swooped down like a swarm of wasps, already shooting.
Pretty Face added a crude word into the airwaves. Unlike Fieran, he hadn’t had the presence of mind to wait to press the talk button until after he’d vented his expletives. “How did they get here?”
“Does it matter?” Even over the radio, Lije sounded like he was gritting his teeth.
Fieran gripped the control stick with one hand and blasted a dart of his power at an enemy aeroplane as it zoomed past.
His magic missed, but it at least sizzled a hole in one of the enemy dirigibles.
Fieran resisted the urge to let loose a few more crude words.
A Mongavarian aeroplane dove at one of Fieran’s flyboys, stitching bullets across the wing toward the cockpit.
Before Fieran could turn in that direction, the flyboy’s wingman shot at the Mongavarian pilot. He didn’t get him, but he drove him off enough to save his wingman.
A Mongavarian aeroplane dove toward Fieran, the machine gun on its nose blasting. The bullets sizzled as they were incinerated in Fieran’s magic, and Fieran followed the line of bullets back to the aeroplane. As soon as his magic touched the volatile gasoline fuel, the aeroplane before him exploded in a fireball.
Aeroplanes darted between the airships, hunters and hunted buzzing faster than the eye could follow. The chatter of guns from both Alliance and Mongavarian aeroplanes burst across the sky. The line of Alliance airships came into range of the enemy and opened fire, adding to the noise and smoke.
The radio waves clogged with voices swearing and shouting, yelling warnings to each other and cheering jubilantly at a good shot.
“Laesornysh, report!” Lt. Rothilion shouted over the clamor, and only then did Fieran register that it wasn’t the first time Lt. Rothilion had called the order.
“The Mongavarians launched aeroplanes off their airships.” Fieran threw his aeroplane onto its side to avoid another oncoming aeroplane, keeping a shield of magic around himself that trailed behind to cover Merrik. “I sensed four storage cages for aeroplanes in the airship I took down. Looks like about half of the large Mongavarian airships have those launch ramps.”
“There could be twenty-eight to thirty enemy aeroplanes up here.” Lt. Rothilion’s voice didn’t give any indication of his thoughts.
“That means we have them outnumbered only two to one. That is not that bad of odds.” Aylia sounded far too cheerful.
No, it wasn’t. But their squadron had never faced an aeroplane-on-aeroplane fight before. Yet if their launch off the airships was any indication, these Mongavarian pilots were among the empire’s best. They had likely faced battles like this before, facing off against the other Alliance squadrons stationed along the Escarlish border. Their experience could far outweigh a numbers advantage.
“Enemy aeroplanes in sight, sir.” Lt. Rothilion’s second sounded like he had a pinecone stuffed up his nose even now.
“Flight A, engage.” Lt. Rothilion remained as calm and collected as if he was telling his pilots to go fetch him champagne at a soiree.
Fieran maneuvered his aeroplane between two enemy airships. Just as he raised his hand to blast a wave of magic at one of the airships, a Mongavarian aeroplane roared at him, trailed by Stickyfingers, who was peppering the tail of the aeroplane with short bursts from his machine gun. Holleran flew a few yards back and above, targeting the airship next to them.
Fieran pulled back his magic before he hit Stickyfingers and Holleran. In these close quarters, he couldn’t just blast his magic at full strength like he had in the Battle over Bridgetown.
Was that the point of the enemy aeroplanes? The aeroplane-launching capabilities of the airships couldn’t have been designed and implemented in the month and a half that had passed since the attack on Bridgetown. They’d probably already been in the works for a while since Mongavaria would need a way to launch airborne attacks without a nearby aerodrome.
But the plan of this attack? The way the aeroplanes had hidden until Fieran had been among the airships? That had definitely been planned in response to his abilities. Even if they hadn’t had specific confirmation that Fieran would be here, they had planned for his presence just in case.