[Middle East] In Search Of...

[Arthur Kirkland]

"We apologize for calling you here, Air Vice-Marshall." his commander looked him dead in the eye with a stern gaze. "We're very much aware that your team is preparing for an operation at this very minute, but we have an emergency that we require you to attend to..."

And that was it, really. The reason he was out on Y Ddraig Goch, flying over mountains and through sandstorms with the Doktor strapped in behind him as safely as possible. One of their squadrons cargo ships had crash landed somewhere in the mountains. Because it had been carrying parts that were specifically made for dragon use no normal member of the Sky Navy would be allowed to intercept it. None of their normal pilots could find it as none could fly low enough to the trees in the unpredictable winds and sand. And since Sergeant Talei was already out scouting out a nest of pirates and Lance Corporal Inuk's Ice Baby wasn't made for delicate flying, the unenviable search and rescue task fell to him.

Well, him and Caroline.

"Are you still alright, Doktor?" he asked once more not wanting her to be uncomfortable or feel ill with his erratic flying. Thank every god out there for the little radios built into their helmets, or the entire flight would be in windy silence. A sudden updraft jerked the red dragons head up and flared her wings and for a moment Emrys was once again occupied with keeping her relatively on course. Missing a secion could chance that they would miss the crash site altogether.

And as much as he would love to fly around forever, he was itching to start the new mission - to fight pirates like he was trained to do. Not escort a doctor and set up a beacon for the (hopefully there) survivors of a crash.

[Caroline Bausch]

Out of the many things Caroline had been hoping to be doing today, flying an ungodly distance above the ground in stinging sand-laced winds beneath a scorching desert sun had not been on the list. It didn’t matter that, according to the cheerful American mechanic’s assertions, she was as secure as humanly possible—it was still damn unsettling and she would rather be behind a windshield.

Still, it could have been worse—rather than shielding herself to her best ability behind the gentlemanly and companionable Welsh pilot, she could have been forced to cling to the Greenlandic behemoth with the adrenaline addiction. He would have been certain to make indecent commentary regarding the quietly desperate grasp in her arms.

At Emrys’s inquiry, the small blonde tried to lift her chin slightly, speaking into the helmet with as much calm as she could muster. “Considering the circumstances, monsieur, I’m-” Her voice was cut off as the craft jolted upward. A most undignified squeak escaped the woman, her arms tightening convulsively around the Welshman’s waist as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Once she was able to swallow back her panic, the Luxembourger continued with strained decorum, “-most eager to get to my patients post haste.”

Currently, Caroline considered flying romantic only in the abstract. The sooner she was on the ground doing her job, the better.

[Arthur Kirkland]

"Considering the circumstances, I'm inclined to agree with that sentiment." he laughed faintly, refraining from teasing the poor woman. Emrys would admit to himself silently that he was enjoying the excuse to spend time with the petite Doktor - she was excellent company, and after the boisterousness of his engineer and the arguments of his team; quite, thoughtful conversation was something he appreciated. Though he didn't get much chance for said conversation - he rarely had a legitimate reason to venture to the infirmary and loitering about there was something his commanders encouraged them not to do. After all, if they had time to loiter, they had time to find something better to do (and it usually involved the stacks of paperwork Emrys tried to avoid...)

As Caroline's arms clenched around him, he found himself very, very glad he wasn't transporting someone with, say, Alfred's strength. Her grip was tight, but not strong enough to impede his breathing. He opened his mouth to say something else, when his ever roving eyes caught something in the distance - was that smoke?

"Perhaps your wish will come true sooner than you thought, Doktor." he said calmly as he banked sharply to the left, following the faint trail of smoke.

[Caroline Bausch]

After reflexively bracing herself against the shift in gravity by burying her head in the pilot’s shoulder, Caroline reluctantly lifted her head towards the horizon, eyes squinting beneath the helmet’s goggles. The wreckage was as of yet too distant to clearly make out against the harsh desert sun, but the curling cloud of black smoke acted well enough as a beacon for the Luxembourger to discern their position.

“Merci, mäin Hä,” she murmured softly, the line of her jaw firming as she thought of the task ahead. The dragon’s compartment beneath the seat held ample medical supply and apparatuses, about as much as could be spared for a temporary field clinic. Caroline assumed that reinforcements would later arrive as soon as the military could spare them, for the petite blonde could hardly imagine how anyone would expect Emrys’s admittedly impressive craft to be fit for convoying potential patients.

Deciding that it would be impolite to put the gracious officer through more hysteric antics, Caroline attempted to ease her terror grip into a looser and far more decorous hold, steadying her breathing against the safe barrier of his shoulders. “As we get closer, monsieur, I would appreciate any information regarding the state of the crash site, and whether or not there are any personnel out and about on their feet.”

It suited the tiny doctor best to know ahead of time exactly what sort of situation she was entering before she began her work. The difference between a ship that had initiated a coordinated descent after sounding the distress signal and a craft that had gone down half-blazing was quite extreme, and the former barmaid wanted to know what exactly her chances were of tending survivors versus examining corpses.

Caroline couldn’t quite repress a contained shudder at the thought.

Merci, mäin Hä--Thank God