Déjà vu

Beep!
"Fox three, launch missile!"

The missile gracefully arcs towards the drone, as it travels away and down towards the poor lumbering machine. With a massive eruption, the drone disappears into smoke, then reappears as a flaming wreck, falling down towards the ground below.

"Alex has just scored a kill! Take that one for the tally." someone in my squad shouts.
"This is Paladin Four, I have confirmed kill on Novemian recon drone. What now?"
"Haha, look at Alex all serious."
"Leave him be, he's in the zone." Paladin One, our 'manager' says. He's the only one that doesn't do social media stuff and is a pure pilot, so we saddled him with the title 'manager.'
"That's Alex's second kill!" Paladin Three, who was the guy holding up the line in front of me, yells out. "On your way to ace status, eh Alex?"
"Pfft, shitty recon drones don't count." I say back. "I bet that costs less than a car." There's some laughter from the others. All except for Paladin One.

"Hey, I've got a warning from radar. Says I'm being jammed."
"What? I'm being jammed too?" Paladin Five, our top earner, says in a panic. "Hey, I'm locked on!"

Paladin Five begins to maneuver her plane erratically.

"From over the horizon! It's coming from the sides, three o'clock! Fifteen bogeys!"

This wasn't supposed to happen.

A volley of missiles now races my way, heading straight for my craft.
"MISSILE! MISSILE! MISSILE!"
My aircraft's countermeasure system is going wild. I perform a high-G turn as I deploy chaff, sending the missiles off course, but it was a near hit. The missile explodes dangerously close to my plane, but I'm alive.

"Everyone, shut off your stream cameras. They might be tracking us through it." I yell out, as I turn off my own camera. We're in a better situation than last time.

"Squadron, form up! Turn towards the enemy!" Paladin One yells out as our squadron rapidly reorients itself to meet the enemy head on.

"Locked on! Fox Three!" Paladin Two has already fired a missile at the enemy. One of the blips on my radar disappears.

For the second time, I turn my plane straight towards the enemy, turning back from our retreat. My radar sees several missiles streaking straight past me, but I know the next volley will be more punishing as the distance closes. 

I'm getting a weird sense of deja vu.

The plane races right into a hedgehog of missile fire, as I activate the flares, just at the right moment. Dodging through the hoop of fire, I let loose my own as the distance rapidly closes.

"Fox two!"

One hit. The distant enemy plane explodes into a massive fireball.

That could have been me in another timeline. The other planes are still active, and they're closing in fast. I go under them, giving them altitude. No other choice. A plane dives in to fire a missile at me. Flares, dodge. It overshoots, now I'm over it.

Roll right, throttle down as I turn, then back up. They're close enough for guns. I open fire. Miss.

More bogey above me. Plane parallel. Going up to intercept. Throttle up, altitude up. The warning alarm is constantly screaming at me. Altitude parallel, that's an Immelman Turn. 

"Alex!"

Bogey in my sights. I let loose a second missile.

"Fox two!"

"Alex, that's another kill!" Someone shouts from the radio, and at this point, I don't really have time to find out. A missile streaks in from a distance and impacts an enemy fighter. The others are flying in. Several friendly missiles fly out from my squadron and towards the enemies. Despite everything, they're trained pilots. And it's good to see that Novemian countermeasures really are as shit as the rumors say, because our missiles don't get tricked by their chaff or flares.

It's almost like we can actually beat them back.

"Long range radar missile lock, coming in from far away!" Paladin Five yells out. "We got more coming in hot!"
"We're almost out of missiles! Shit!" Paladin Two says. 
"Doesn't matter! We take them on!" Paladin One says. "Fox Three, missile out!"
"Hey, these guys are different!" Paladin Three says. "They're closing the gap!"
"Fox three, firing missile!" I fire a missile out at the mysterious fighters, who manage to evade it with expert precision. I can see their turns on my radar.

"I'm out." Paladin Five turns her plane away. "Commander, permission for a tactical retreat?"

"ID'd as Novemian Life Guards Squadron!" Our commander yells from his radio on his AWACS plane. "There's no way, you have to retreat!"

"Affirmative! Retreating from contested airspace!" The radio crackles. It's Paladin One. "Any objections?"
"Nope, none here!" A voice says from the other side. A few radio crackles murmur in agreement.
"Good. AWACS command, this is Paladin One. We are RTBing!"

For some reason, the deaths of Eagle Two and Eagle Nine flash in front of my eyes. I don't remember their names. We were never close, and I forget the names of close friends all the time too.

But I do remember their faces.

No, if we turn tail we'll all just get shot down. The 'Life Guard Squadron' is in visual range now.

"You guys run, I'll take them!" I push the throttle on my plane forwards, sending my plane towards the enemy. If there's one thing I've learned from my training, it's that sometimes, charging straight at the enemy might be the safest bet in some situations. Emphasis on safest, because this is about as close to suicide as you can get anyways.

"Hey Alex!" Paladin Three yells out. "Stream's over! Don't risk doing something stupid for some internet points!"

Oh yeah, I forgot to turn that off. The camera's off, but my mic's still on. Whatever, no time.

"We'll get shot down if everyone runs! Someone's gotta be rearguard!" I turn my head back towards the enemy. "Fox three, missile out!" The missile arcs into the air once more and misses. Well, there go all my missiles. Shit.

The Life Guards close in on me. A missile flies right towards me as I take the plane up and let loose flares. They're not like the last guys, they don't haphazardly shoot missiles in volleys. Novemian missiles have shit trackers, but dear god, they are blisteringly fast. 

A missile singes my aircraft as I perform another high G maneuver. No good, I need to use chaff and flares. My supply of countermeasures are getting low. I fumble with the aircraft jammer as the missiles close in. They're firing in greater volleys now, three headed straight for me. Fuck, I always had trouble with the goddamn jammer! Fuck, I need to maneuver!

The missile explodes again as I make another bare miss, throwing out chaff in the back. More missiles, I think a quick jam will work. Ok, and they're closing. Missiles. Flares and maneuver. They're getting close, gunfire!

"Paladin Four, withdraw now!" You think that's possible right now? There's autocannon shells peppering the air where I am! I turn my throttle up and push the craft forwards. My body feels like it's ripping apart from the Gs but dammit, if I don't do this I'll actually get ripped up and die.

There's an enemy fighter zipping in from above. Turn up. Gun up. Fire. There's a hit. In an instant, time seems to stop as I notice the damage. It's been mauled. 

"Alex, pull back! It's safe now!" I swivel my head around. Where? Where are they? "Paladin Four, they're withdrawing! Get over here before they change their mind!"

"Uh, yes sir!" I keep my jet on full throttle as I turn away from the enemy fighters. There's a moment of silence before anyone speaks up again.

 "Good work out there today Alex. I can't thank you enough." Paladin One says. "Let's get you out of here before they decide to come back!"
"No problem." I say. "I think I'm about ready to get out of here myself."

I nod to myself, and then look at my chat. Though the camera was off, they clearly had heard my dogfight. There's a bunch of donations, but the one that stands out to me is a big $500 donation. I read the name of the donator.
"Thank you, 'Backshot Bill,' your donation is greatly appreciated." The dam of hilarity breaks. And now, I can't help suppress my laughter at the whole situation. Uncontrollable, hysteric laughter.

~***~

"Interesting."
"Pardon me, your highness?"
"Who's that Elodian dog that almost shot down Marco?"
"Seems like you have an interest in him. He put up a good fight, didn't he? Not just anyone could keep their wits when flying against us."
"His flying was sloppy. His gunnery was all over the place. And he's firing without considering whether the enemy is in a good position to maneuver out of the way for it."
"You mean you let him survive?"
"Well, I wouldn't say that. He was a slippery one."
"I...I see."
"He got lucky. But he's still a nuisance. I don’t like nuisances."
"Your Highness, remember that your father will demand a count of the missiles the Life Guards fired, and the ammunition you used. Whether you wasted them, or was toying with him, I'd suggest keeping this a secret-"
"My father is a buffoon. The entire military apparatus is. What's so special about this squadron that they'd send me out anyways?"
"Nothing in particular my lord. These pilots are well known within Elodia and Mozaka, as they often post their exploits onto the internet for propaganda purposes. I believe high command described what we did today as something the youth call a 'stream snipe.'"
"Tch. Fucking geezers."
"Pardon?"
"I mean them, not you. In any case, we don't need to worry about some suicidal maniac. I'll tell you something real straight Mikhail, real enemy is behind us."