"Over-G! Over-G! Maximum angle of attack! Weapons bay failure!"
Bitchin' Betty screams as I push the Widow to its limits. I nearly black out. Mere feet above the canyon floor, I recover from the dive and ascend out of the canyon, spewing sand and dust into the air as the jet blast hits the ground.
"Fuel 1000. Bingo Fuel."
Even after all that, the cloud remains visibly intact and continues its course unhindered. With just about every last resource spent, I'm forced to turn tail and head back home.
Feels pretty loving stuffty, I thought to myself as I twiddled the menthol cigarette between my index finger and thumb. A large transport touches down on the runway and taxies to the nearest ramp, where it drops off a couple dozen people. Survivors from the crash landing.
I lay down on the bench and stick the cig between my lips. It's pretty hot out on the tarmac today.