The Dragon Invasion Ch. 01

Foreword:

I acknowledge this story will not be everyone's cup of tea. I also acknowledge that this is probably a rather niche genre. I make no apologies for that but I do hope it finds an audience.

In terms of inspiration, credit goes to DugFunny's "Return of the Dragons" story (I always thought the ending of that story could be better and/or needed a sequel). However, this is a totally separate storyline/"universe" and you do not need to read that one to understand my series.

The tags below should give you an idea of what content is within. The sex in this chapter is somewhat limited but I promise there will be far far more of it in Chapter 2 and it will involve both men and women.

Finally. I'm definitely a bit of an aviation geek, as you'll probably tell if you read on, I've read far too many Dale Brown and Tom Clancy books for those not to influence me.

Enjoy.

Tags:

Dragons, Non-human, Transformations, Body Modification, Bi, Fantasy Blowjob, Military.

*****

The Dragon Invasion Chapter 1

02 June 2020

Flight Lieutenant James "Too Tall" Robertson, leader of Storm section, heard the radio call from the AWACS:

"Ten plus Bandits, 12 o'clock, Angels 20. Storm flight, you're cleared to engage. However, you're reminded that your primary target remains the suspected enemy HQ site."

James' throat mic automatically transmitted as he acknowledged,

"Roger Brightstar, copied cleared to engage bandits." He then spoke specifically to his section, "Storm flight, climb to Angels 40 and switch to Meteors. They won't know what hit them."

He pushed his throttle forward to maximum military power and began to ascend. Outside the canopy of his Eurofighter Typhoon jet fighter, three other identical aircraft followed his lead. There were five other sections out there, each consisting of four jets; one of brand new F-35B Lightning stealth fighters, two more of Typhoons and two of old Tornado GR4 strike aircraft which had been pulled out of storage for this raid.

Not as much of strike package as he'd of liked it must be said. However, much of the RAF's combat aircraft had been destroyed over the last few weeks by an enemy that was straight out of a fairy tale. Or nightmare as it turned out.

Only a month before had a dragon rose from an under-construction London Underground Tube line. It caused havoc over the British capital until a friend and fellow pilot of his and killed it in his Typhoon. Unfortunately, the death of that one dragon seemed be some kind of beacon for the rest of their kind.

Suddenly, mostly from the tunnel in London, but also from various underground hides throughout England, hundreds, of dragons had appeared. From what James gathered, it wasn't just localised to the UK either but international communications had began to break down so it was unclear quite what was going on overseas.

What he did know was that London had been burnt to a crisp with millions dead and millions more displaced. The dragons were unfortunately far smarter than expected and destroyed all nearby military installations. All RAF bases that stored combat aircraft anywhere south of Scotland had been hit by a wave of fire. All surviving fighters had been evacuated to RAF Lossiemouth, which is where this strike package had departed from.

In short, the war (James refused to use the term extermination which several scientific circles had now began to describe the situation as) was not going well for the British people. Several counterattacks launched by British forces had been bloodily repulsed with, in some cases, whole units going missing.

But, satellite imagery combined with other intelligence methods and scientific research had now yielded a vital target that could change the course of the war.

This strike would avenge London's dead. He would see to that.

"Time to fuck up those scalelly bastards," James hadn't meant to say that out loud but his anger got the better of him.

"Roger that lead. We'll be home for tea and medals in no time," Flight Lieutenant Hannah Finchley, flying as his wingman in Storm 2 acknowledged. She was more than just a wingman; she was also his lover, although on the down-low due to it being frowned upon to date another squadron member. It also wasn't anything too serious. At least not yet anyway. James, being in his late 20s and after having a number of relationships, understood the difference between love and lust. It was still the latter but he had to admit to himself that the idea of something more serious with Hannah didn't scare him.

And why should it? She was definitely his type - tall for a woman, blonde, athletic in a subtle way, smart, funny, adventurous... And a minx in bed, which seemed at odds with her borderline upper-class upbringing. James had dated a posh girl before who was a prudish as they come. But Hannah wasn't like that. He remembered the first time she'd asked him to fuck her in arse... And what at arse she had...

"Too Tall, are we going to fire or what you dozy wanker?" The voice of Storm 3, a close friend of his Matthew Stride called out loudly inside his helmet. (Being 6ft 4, he'd only just met the Typhoon's maximum height limit, hence the callsign.)

Time to get back in the game.

"Piss off Stridey," James replied, before then adding in a far more professional tone, "Storm flight, accelerate to attack speed and prepare a volley. Everyone use your radar to select and mark a target." The other three pilots acknowledged and pushed throttles forward, activating their afterburners.

His Typhoon vibrated as it passed through Mach 1.

"Storm flight, fire at will. FOX THREE!" James felt the jet vibrate again as the ramjet powered Meteor missile left its pylon. He then slewed his radar onto a second bandit which appeared larger and fired again. The rest of Storm flight did the same, sending six more towards their targets.

The missiles quickly accelerated to over Mach 4. Their targets were now less than 50 miles away; they'd have no problem reaching the dragons they were fired at.

The sizes of dragons in Storm flight's path ranged from smaller creatures with wingspans of around 20 feet upto the bigger ones with 100ft spans. All of them were fire-breathers but only the larger ones could hope to get to 40,000ft which was Storm flight's current cruising altitude. Seven of those dragons would never get a chance to try; the Meteor missiles smashed directly into them or detonated their fragmentation warheads so close that it didn't matter. The eighth missile however lost lock and harmlessly self-destructed after flying past its' target.

"Storm flight, this is Brightstar. Good shooting chaps and chapess. Seven kills counted. However, you've got more business climbing from below. Beware that most of Jedi and Sith flights are down."

"Storm acknowledges, thanks for the update," James transmitted back to the AWACS. Jedi and Sith flights, the Tornado GR4s, were always going to struggle to get through as they going in at low altitude - right into the heart of the dragons' defences. He knew that they'd pretty much been sacrificed to allow the Typhoon flights to get through above.

"Storm flight, prepare another volley. We've two minutes until we're in range of the target. Let's show these bastards who they're messing with!"

Storm 3 and 4 both acknowledged but Hannah didn't. James called out to her specifically:

"Storm 2, acknowledge last transmission." Nothing heard again. He looked up out his cockpit to see Hannah's Typhoon still on his wing but it was clearly in difficulty.

Then:

"James, it's Hannah. My jet's had a massive computer failure. One engine is down. I'm going to have to descend."

Bugger, that'd put her right in middle of a hoard of dragons now rising to meet them. Before he'd even fully processed the situation, he heard himself reply.

"OK Hannah, I'll stick with you and cover you."

"James, you can't do that. You're too important to the mission!"

"I'm not leaving anyone from my flight behind. We'll get through this together I promise." James heard her double tap her transmit button as an acknowledgement. And then, she started to descend.

He relayed to situation to Storm 3 and 4 before adding:

"You two are to complete the mission regardless of what happens to us, understand?"

"Roger. Good luck you two, you crazy bastards," came Stridey's reply after a brief pause.

Hannah was already passing through 30,000ft by the time James fully took stock of the situation. His external fuel tanks were now empty - he hit the release button and felt a jolt as they left the aircraft. He also checked his weapon status - two Meteors and four AIM-132 ASRAAMs left. Plus the pair of modified Paveway bunker buster guided bombs that were essential to the mission.

Time to thin the herd.

James quickly locked onto and fired his last two Meteors at the two nearest dragons. Both died instantly on impact. He watched Hannah ahead of him struggling to keep her jet from descending any further; her radar was down meaning she couldn't fire Meteors but she also had four ASRAAMs. The ASRAAM, being a "heat-seeker" didn't need radar guidance. However, as dragons didn't emit anywhere near as much heat as an aircraft engine, they needed to be used at close range. Luckily, the boffins back at Lossiemouth had boosted their tracking capabilities to the point where the missile's optics could recognise a dragon's head as the target.

"Hannah, dragons on your left side, 10 o'clock low. Use your ASRAAMs. I'll cover your arse."

"You love covering that don't you!" Her attempt at humour brought a slight smile to his face despite the circumstances.

"Fox 2, Fox 2!" Came a further radio call as two heat-seeking missiles left her aircraft in to meet the incoming dragons. They didn't miss - both dragons fell back to earth, minus their heads.

James missed that sight; his radar had picked up the largest dragon he'd yet detected. Worse still, it was above them. He looked out of his canopy... Yep, there! He didn't think one could move so fast.

"Hannah, break right, break right!" She just managed to turn her Typhoon in time to dodge a ball of fire swept past.

James wasted no time lining up for a shot.

"You don't launch fireballs at my wingman and get away with it!" He said out loud, but not loud enough to activate the throat mic. Two ASRAAMs left his jet, both on course for the dragon; it's wingspan was easily over 150ft.

Die you big scalelly fucker.

Only it didn't: one ASRAAM lost lock and flew harmlessly past the target. The other hit one of the dragon's colossal wings, wounding the creature but amazingly it kept flying.

Straight after Hannah.

The dragon fired a new fireball which she successfully avoided, but lost vital airspeed doing so. It was now right on her tail. And then, James watched in horror as it let out a stream of fire at her aircraft.

"Storm 2, eject! Get out of there Hannah!"

No reply came but he saw the Typhoon's canopy break off, followed a microsecond later by the Martin-Baker ejection seat.

Thank goodness. Now time to end this cunt.

James managed manoeuvred behind the giant beast as it pulled up from its dive.

"Fox 2, Fox 2! You're mine you fucker!" His final two air-to-air weapons chased down the dragon, again striking the creature's wings. He heard the screech it let out even in his noisy cockpit... But the dragon remained airborne.

Only one option left - Guns.

The dragon reversed its attempt to climb and dived back towards the earth but James punched his throttle to full and followed after it. His finger hovered over the trigger that controlled his 27mm Mauser cannon. Both his radar and PIRATE tracker had a lock. Just a bit closer...

But then his navigational computer gave a loud noise.

"What the..."

Without even realising it, he was flying over the remains of London and was only a few miles from the suspected underground HQ site.

While revenge would have been nice, the mission still needed completing.

And maybe I'll catch up with you afterwards you cunt...

James quickly activated the Typhoon's laser designator pod which would guide his two bunker busters to their target. For some reason, GPS was struggling to get signal but with the laser designator, that wouldn't matter.

"This is Storm Leader, over target now. STORES! Two away."

A broken transmission was all that he received back in return. It almost sounded like... Radios were being jammed. But dragons couldn't jam GPS and radio... Could they? No. Impossible.

But that wasn't important right now.

He watched on is MFD screen as the two Paveways fell to their target. And then... Splash!

The two bombs dug their way deep into the dragon's underground tunnel network and detonated their warheads. These warheads had been specially modified for this purpose, making them far more powerful than the standard 2000lb Paveways. Although the explosion on surface wasn't particularly spectacular, they caused massive damage to the target.

However, James didn't have any time to admire his work...

"Back for more you wanker?" he muttered as the same huge dragon he'd faced shortly before appeared from behind the ruins of St Paul's Cathedral.

He heard its roar as the creature flapped its gargantuan wings and lifted off... Coming straight for his aircraft.

"If I'm going down then I'm taking you with me!" James muttered to himself. He watched on MFD screen as the dragon charged through the sky towards him, his PIRATE camera giving him excellent resolution... Once again his finger hovered over the gun trigger.

What was that beneath the dragon's torso, coming out between its legs... It couldn't be... It's giant cock? And why the fuck was it erect? Well it wouldn't matter in a few seconds...

James pulled the trigger spraying 27mm cannon shells into the dragon's face and neck as the dragon let rip a giant ball of flame. The ball caught his Typhoon's right wing, instantly burning through the jet's control surfaces.

The last thing James remembered after pulling the ejection handle between his legs was the rocket motors of his seat activating, throwing him from his stricken aircraft. As he struggled against the G-Forces, the pilot was rewarded with the sight of what was left of his Typhoon ploughing into the dragon, finally finishing the mighty beast off. But then, the world turned to black as he passed out.

James awoke in pain, feeling the tug of the parachute; everywhere ached but especially his left ankle. He'd landed in what was left of one of London's many small parks. Only several hundred yards away, James could see the ruins of numerous burnt out buildings. Destruction and black ash was everywhere. The hulks of destroyed vehicles littered a nearby street as well as the corpses of several deceased dragons. But the most horrifying sight was the charred bones all around the area. Trying not vomit, James freed himself from his parachute, and collapsed onto his back as his ankle gave way.

Fuck, that hurt. No way walking out of London is going to be an option. But the parachute needs hiding ASAP.

James reached down to his ankle; it didn't feel broken but it was definitely a bad sprain. Moving was going to be painful. But he had to put some distance between himself and his landing zone.

After ditching his chute in rubble of a destroyed shop of some kind, he wandered towards the north. The compass he had in his survival kit guided him; the his mini GPS was unable to get signal but James' locator beacon that he activated didn't need GPS to work thankfully.

Although, he mused, no rescue helicopter was likely. And he had to get further before darkness arrived; dragons could see marginally better than humans in daylight but, at night they were unrivalled. Intel had confirmed that the dragons could see in infrared meaning that they'd detect the heat from his body. His only chance was to find cover and then use his infrared masking camouflaged sheet that was part of his survival kit.

To distract from the pain of walking, James began thinking back over the mission; how had Storm 3 and 4 done? He hoped they'd made it out alive. He'd seen no other aircraft after Hannah had gone down which couldn't be a good sign.

Pain returned but to his head this time. Hannah. God, he really hoped that she was alright.

A subtle change in the noise made by the wind alerted him to a presence before he saw it.

Fuck I need cover!

James dashed underneath what was left of burnt out London tour bus, immediately rolling himself in the IR sheet. He made it with seconds to spare.

A pair of large dragons, not as big as the one he'd killed, but certainly 100ft plus, flew overhead. They began circling only a mile or two away; one of them let out a huge jet of flame on an unseen target which lit up the now darkening sky.

Well, looks like I'm staying here tonight.

Despite his best efforts to stay awake, after several hours, James felt himself drifting off. Thoughts of Hannah, Storm flight and dragons entered his head only to leave as fatigue overwhelmed him.

He didn't know how long he was out for but James awoke abruptly. Something was off. He checked his watch: 0237am. While still night, flames in distance provided enough light for his eyes to scan the area.

Nothing.

But then... a noise.

He pulled the IR blanket tighter ensuring that all of him was covered.

Something or someone was definitely out there.

Had some Londoners survived after all this time?

James' answer came soon after - a limping human being escorted by two dragons appeared around the corner. The second beast looked like it might have a human over its shoulder too but he couldn't tell for sure.

The lead dragon stopped as if sniffing the air, allowing James to get a good look at them; both had dark red interlocking scales and were easily over 6ft. Neither had particularly long wings - it didn't look like they were flyers. But they were obviously well built with large claws to boot. Maybe the dragons' foot soldier equivalent?

Sudden panic set in as they headed down what was left of the street towards his position. However, the lead dragon turned back to his counterpart when they were about 25ft from James' position. Immediately, the second dragon also stopped, lowing a body from its shoulder.

"Humans. Wait"

What, did that dragon just speak English? Well broken English at least.

Whoever the limping human was did just that, giving James a better view of group.

Definitely a fellow pilot judging by the attire.

His heart skipped a beat. Was it Hannah?

No, the figure was too stocky. Certainly a man.

The second pulled themself up off the floor, getting to their feet before sitting back onto their arse when they realised that they were stopping. They appeared female but Hannah had a taller, slimmer figure.

One of the dragons, who, to James at least, appeared to be the leader for the pair, let out a small burst of flame, setting alight an already destroyed car. Intel had mentioned how these beasts' fire was a scientific marvel. Researchers were already trying to study how the created such as destructive flame.

The two captives glanced around, obviously looking for an escape route. But the dragons were far too close by and they were too injured to make a quick escape. The male looked over in James' direction giving James a better view of his face.

I know him! Richard Powell. A Tornado pilot.

The cuts and bruises on Powell's face were now visible too; he had a nasty looking gash down his right cheek that looked awfully like a claw mark.