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You checked your map, you were headed in the right direction. The skies were clear, and as you sped away, you could hear the last of the enemy’s cries, growing weaker as you made distance.
<span class="mu-r">“Damn-....-Come back and-...”</span>
Then, nothing. It was peaceful for another hour. You watched the sun rise, keeping low to the earth. You had tangled, albeit for a brief moment, with the enemy, and lived! You chuckled, petting the metal frame of your MiG.
Then you laughed, and hollered, screaming to yourself, no one else knowing your glee. The plane had seen you through it, and you were grateful. Grateful to be alive. Grateful to still be on your way to something new, astounded at your own ability. You’d be coming up on the airfield soon. Your new home.
The radio crackled to life, breaking the silence, taking you out of the dream. Back to reality.
<span class="mu-g">“...-kyrie Tower to Eugen. We’re tracking you inbound. Nobody else in the pattern, boy. Go ahead and bring him in easy.”</span>
You wondered at how they knew it was you. There was a logical explanation, one too far for your strained mind to reach now.
You brought her in, as easy as you could…
>Roll 1d10, DC 7-10 to land safely, DC 3-6 to land and damage something, DC 1-2 to fuck up your landing. Highest roll will be counted.
<span class="mu-g">“...I’ve seen better, I’ve seen worse, kid. Hangar 4.”</span>
You took instruction from the tower on where to park, and shut down the engine. The whining that had been in the back of your mind for hours now had disappeared. Life was so very quiet. Long off, the dull roar of a jet echoed. You shivered uncontrollably, all the excitement coming down to a halt.
You were already longing for that fleeting feeling again. That dance on the knife edge, another kill. The way the Panther had limped and burned flashed in your mind. You wanted it again, you wanted… <span class="mu-i">some fucking water, and a bite to eat.</span> Fingers fumbled for the latch, pushing it open, your body finally regulating its movements.
When you tried to exit, your legs wouldn’t move at first. They almost stuck to the pedals, like magnets. You reached for the open side, trying to drag yourself up and out. Your legs wobbled, and went weak underneath you. You almost slipped and hit your head, but you didn’t. A gruff technician already had a ladder set and took you by your armpits, looping her elbows under them.
You let out a sigh. Hair had clumped to your forehead, and your eyes closed for a second while you were lifted. For a moment, you were back home. It was a late summer evening, years ago. You had stayed out all night, looking at the stars. Your father carried you to bed, your head resting on his shoulder, then. You wished for it again. Someday.
