Another oil rig goes up in a blaze.
"Tally-ho on the bandits." I hear. I look, and see faint shapes in the distance. "That little group? They needed the Yellow Squadron for THEM!?" "Let's rip 'em apart."
"118th, this is SkyEye, that's the Yellow Squadron! They have total air superiority, get out of there now! Go go go!" "Yes sir!" I stammer. I make towards the escape vector.