On dragon's wings

Flight Lieutenant Martin Jenkins dabbed salve on the left foreleg of his mount. Shaldrach stood over him, putting on a brave face as usual. The dragon was getting old and slow but nothing could break the bond they’d formed through these last few years of the war.

“Not long now, old girl. You’ve got leave coming up. You can go and visit your folks.” Shaldrach made a dismissive snort and shook her sinuous neck, scratching at the data-link with a claw. “Is that coming loose again? I’ll sort it out.” Kind words, but words they would have to remain as the battlestations alarm growled through the launch bay. Martin ran away from his dragon and through the personnel hatch.
Settling in the comfortable couch, he nodded to the meditech, who shoved the interface plug roughly into the socket in his cranium and drained an unfeasibly small syringe into his arm.

Reality swirled as he and Shaldrach merged into a single fighting machine, leaping from the bay into the heat of another savage battle.

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