Southern Ahkabnil
1942
The tranquil morning was uninterrupted by the beating thunder of war, many of the farmers in the valley had enjoyed it, though most were curious why the distant patter of guns had halted for the morning. The sound peace didn’t last for long that morning however, instead of clapping artillery, it was the low hum of hundreds of aircraft formation flying in the sky, their prop engines echoing through each surface of the rocky valleys. One would look up to find the overwhelming number of planes dance in the sky, asunder with their eloquent maneuvering. Smoke trailed many of the massive four engine bombers, marked with insignia’s of the Ardian Empire, as they fell with a robust crash into the mountainsides. The fight had moved so low to the ground that many crews didn’t have time to jump from the belly’s of their death crates. Many gathered, scared but fascinated, as the air war seemed so far away.
One of the distinct Ahkabnilian aircraft’s engines sputtered with a choking sound, as smoke twirled from one the fighter’s engines. The Ahkabnilian fighters were something you couldn’t miss, ‘Flying Pepen’s’ the locals called them, and the name stuck for a reason, they were almost flat disc and many wondered
how such a thing got off the ground even. But they zipped through the sky almost unopposed, with the disadvantage of being a wide target for the enemy. An unfortunate fate befell this particular plane and pilot, which slowly eased closer to ground in an attempt to dive away from the hair ball that was the dogfight in the sky.
It was Teudili Anan at the controls of this fighter, his plane painted with green camouflage that wore various symbols and logograms discreetly, as every other Ahkabnilian fighter was. They were transferred from the Quywe Imperial Airforce to Ahkabnil’s once independence was declared, it was what they all did willingly, as the imperial era on the Horn was coming to screeching end. It had been the remnants of the Imperial Government that had convinced the crumbling Ardian State to invade, and they did so on the terms of vassalage. Teudili was a mere young man at this time, showing the aptitude of a pilot and being thrusted into the cockpit, onto the perpetual meat grinder that was this war. It had proved swell for him up until this point, as he had several bloody decapitated head glyphs painted on his fuselage, indicating six kills.
He had leveled out his pepen shaped aircraft, his right engined still has some fight left but it was going to give out soon, and a bogey was still hot on him. Teudili was treetop level at this point, as enemy machine fire raddled around the cockpit. His hands shoot at the quivering controls, but pure adrenaline kept him on his toes. He was somewhat panicked, and couldn’t get cohesive word out, “H-help me!” he shouted over the intercom, as he rolled and twisted his aircraft in a desperate fight for survival, we knew to keep it straight though, any turn would expose his full aircraft to the brunt on the Ardian’s cannon. He almost wanted to get higher just to bail, as the impending sense of doom was unbearable, he was young and still wanted to live.
Suddenly, before Teudili could perform another spastic roll, machine fire penetrated his cockpit and bounced off the control panel, hitting him in is legs and lower body. His right engine has given out and the left was smoking, the cockpit suddenly went ablaze in fire. Teudili hysterically tried to open the cockpit, but in his panic from the searing pain of fire, it seemed it was jammed. He kicked around, before freezing as he saw hillside rush toward the cockpit. In booming thud and few bounces the aircraft slid like a puck across an open steppe before coming to an abrupt halt when it slammed into a rock formation. The Ardian zipped past at high speed, nearly touching the downed aircraft.
Teudili finally busted the cockpit open, and pulled himself out with the rest of the energy he had left. He murmured in pain, flopping on the ground and attempting to roll in the damp dirt to put out the small flames left on him. He tried to stand up, but he could hardly feel his legs and he toppled over. Cringing in pain, the young pilot dragged himself between the crevices of the jagged, red rock formation which erected in the dramatic steppes. He unholstered his pistol and held it dearly, as he heard distant yelling grow near. A few unidentifiable troops rose from a small patch of trees nearby, but as they grew closer Teudili’s heart sank, they were Ardians. How he hated the pig language he assumed they spoke, and their pale skin. Southerners who did not belong on the Horn. But as they got closer, he lacked the constitution or will to shoot at them, mostly cowardice.
As a soldier approached, with a small grin across his dirt and blood charred face, he pushed the pistol out of Teudili’s hand with the tip of his rifle. He tried to force Teudili to walk, after confiscating his gun, but realized his legs were weak. He spoke in the unknown, unpleasant sounding tongue to Teudili in an aggressive manner, calling his comrades over to help drag his limp body. They seemed to be deliberating something, as the soldier pressed his boot against Teudili’s back to him him on the ground. “Tum denique. I hoc faciam” one spoke, a silence cut through the air. Suddenly Teudili felt the barrel of a rifle press against the back of skull, and he closed his eyes. “Yaotenmel, I am with you.” he whispered to himself.
“Non faciam.” one of them seemingly sighed. “Non possumus accipere eum in dubium.” one of the voices seemed to order.
Teudili was dragged up on one their backs, for reasons he currently didn’t know and taken along with the tired unit of Ardian soldiers.
Cowards, Teudili has thought to himself. If he was able, he would kill himself, a necessary sacrifice that would humble him in this situation. Ahkabnilians fought fierecly, and being a prisoner of war was unacceptable, so was accepting any. If it was an Ardian pilot that Ahkabnilian soldiers found, his head would be put on a pike and paraded around the camp, Teudili was disappointed he wouldn’t die in such a way, to say the least.
