Dragon Squadron (An RAF Dragon Corps story) - 18. Urban Maze

In an alternate 1939 where dragons are Britain's aerial defenders, an admiral's son defies his naval heritage to join the RAF Dragon Corps...

The aerial map pinned to the briefing room wall depicted a maze of structures—buildings of varying heights, smokestacks, water towers, narrow alleyways, and a winding river cutting through the centre.

At first glance, it resembled any mid-sized industrial town, but Jim recognised it immediately as the training facility they’d glimpsed from high-altitude flights—the purpose-built ‘urban combat zone’ constructed specifically to test dragon riders in low-altitude operations.

Sergeant Redfern stood before the map, pointer in hand, his face set in its customary stern lines.

Beside him, Flight Instructor Briggs studied the assembled recruits with the calculating gaze of someone who had seen too many promising trainees fail the challenge ahead.

“Air combat isn’t just high-altitude dogfights.” Redfern tapped the map with his pointer. “Sometimes, you’re forced down to the rooftops—where there’s no room for error.”

After eight weeks of intensive training, they had mastered basic and intermediate flight manoeuvres, combat formations, and tactical dragon handling. But urban combat represented a new level of difficulty—the most challenging environment a dragon rider could face.

Briggs stepped forward. “The enemy will use cities as traps—snipers, ground artillery, and their own dragons—all waiting for you to make a mistake.” He pointed to specific points on the map. “One wrong turn, one misjudged clearance—that’s all it takes.”

Jim absorbed the information with focused attention, mentally tracing possible flight paths through the simulated urban landscape. The narrow gaps between buildings, the varying heights of structures, the artificial debris scattered across rooftops.

“Your objective is threefold,” Redfern said. “Navigate the course without collision or excessive altitude gain. Evade anti-air fire from ground positions. And eliminate designated enemy strongpoints using precision breath attacks.” He made a grim smile. “All while maintaining wingman protocols and proper combat spacing.”

The sergeant moved to a side table where a detailed model of the course had been constructed, complete with miniature buildings and colour-coded markers indicating hazards and targets.

“The course begins here,” he said, indicating the eastern edge “You’ll enter at rooftop level—approximately forty feet—and proceed through these three sectors.” His finger traced the path. “Industrial zone first, with factory structures and smokestacks. Then the commercial district with taller buildings and narrower passages. Finally, the river crossing and bridge section, requiring rapid altitude adjustments and split-second timing.”

Jim studied the model, committing key landmarks to memory. Even in miniature, the course looked daunting—tight spaces that would barely accommodate a dragon’s wingspan, obstacles requiring precise manoeuvring, and potential ambush points where ground fire could catch an unwary rider.

“You’ll be flying in pairs,” Redfern said. “One lead, one wingman.” His eyes swept the assembled recruits. “This isn’t just an evaluation—it’s a selection process for squadron positions after graduation. Urban operations require special aptitude. Not everyone has it.”

The statement hung in the air, its implications clear. With graduation in sight, their performance now would directly affect their combat assignments—determining whether they joined elite tactical units or standard patrol squadrons.

“Blake and Wilson. Cooper and Edwards. Phillips and Thomas. Ashford and Canning.”

Jim managed to keep his expression neutral despite the internal sigh the pairing provoked. Of course Redfern would assign them together again—either to build on their recent successful cooperation or to test whether it had been a fluke.

The corner of Marcus’s mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but an acknowledgment of the challenge.

“Full flight gear, dragons prepared for combat manoeuvres,” Redfern said. “Launch in twenty minutes from the east field. Dismissed.”

At the dragon pens, Jim found Aether already being prepared by Mitchell.

“Morning,” Jim said, running his hand along Aether’s neck.

The dragon rumbled a response.

“Urban course today. Tight spaces, quick turns.”

Aether’s head tilted slightly, as if considering this information.

Dragons weren’t natural urban flyers—their instincts better suited to open skies and mountain terrain—but their adaptability made them capable of navigating constructed environments when properly trained.

Aether’s breed particularly excelled at tight manoeuvres, his wingspan more modest than some of the larger combat dragons, his reflexes finely tuned for rapid course adjustments.

“You’ll be paired with Shadow again,” Jim said, checking the harness connections.

“Handlers report all dragons ready for urban combat exercise,” Briggs said. “Pilots to the launch area.”

The dragons formed up at the launch area, paired according to Redfern’s assignments.

“Standard launch sequence,” Redfern said. “Maintain cruising altitude until reaching the course perimeter, then descend to rooftop level on my signal.”

Jim gave Aether the take-off command, driving them skyward. Marcus maintained proper formation during the climb, neither pushing ahead nor lagging behind.

They established cruising altitude and set course for the urban simulation zone, visible in the distance as a collection of structures arranged in the rough pattern of a small city.

“Approaching course perimeter,” Redfern’s voice came through the radio. “Begin descent to entry altitude. Remember—once you drop below safety height, you stay there unless explicitly ordered to climb. Any unauthorized altitude gain is automatic failure.”

The restriction made tactical sense—in actual urban combat, climbing to safer heights would expose dragons to enemy aircraft and long-range weapons.

Jim guided Aether into a measured descent, feeling the dragon’s natural resistance to approaching buildings at such close range.

“Steady, big fellow.” Jim stroked Aether’s neck. “Just like we practiced.”

As they reached rooftop level—approximately forty feet above ground—the true scale of the challenge became apparent. From this height, the gaps between buildings seemed impossibly narrow, the obstacles more numerous, the entire environment hostile to creatures evolved for open sky.

“All units maintain current altitude,” Redfern said. “Course begins on my signal. Priority objectives marked with red flags. Simulated enemy positions will activate as you proceed.” A brief pause. “Three, two, one—mark!”

Jim and Marcus entered the course, wings nearly touching as they maintained tight formation through the entry corridor—a narrow passage between two warehouse-like structures.

The industrial section confronted them first—factory buildings with smokestacks, water towers, overhead walkways connecting structures, and mock machinery protruding at irregular intervals, requiring constant adjustments to altitude, wing angle, and speed.

Marcus guided Shadow ahead as they approached the first major challenge—a tight dive between two factory buildings with barely enough clearance for a dragon’s wingspan.

“Following your lead,” Jim said over the radio.

Marcus didn’t respond verbally, but Shadow’s dive indicated his intent. The black dragon plunged between the buildings with precise control, wings angled to maximize clearance on both sides.

Jim followed, mirroring the manoeuvre with Aether, maintaining spacing despite the challenging environment.

“Bloody hell, you two are going to kill each other,” Ronnie’s voice crackled over the radio from somewhere behind them, the comment drawing a sharp reprimand from Redfern about maintaining proper communication discipline.

As they emerged from the narrow passage, ground positions activated, launching coloured smoke shells to simulate anti-aircraft fire.

The projectiles arced upward, their trajectories designed to force evasive manoeuvres.

“Incoming from the left,” Jim called.

Marcus banked Shadow sharply right, diving beneath an overhead walkway to avoid the simulated fire.

Jim followed, guiding Aether through a series of rapid turns that navigated between buildings while maintaining coverage of Marcus’s position.

The manoeuvres became increasingly complex—weaving between smokestacks, ducking under walkways, banking through narrow alleys with inches to spare on either wing tip.

Aether responded to his guidance with remarkable precision, the dragon’s natural agility enhanced by weeks of training.

Marcus matched their performance with Shadow, the black dragon’s greater wingspan presenting challenges in the tightest spaces but compensated by powerful acceleration when gaps permitted.

Neither could claim clear superiority as they navigated the industrial section.

The first target appeared on a rooftop ahead—a red-flagged installation representing an enemy position requiring elimination. This would test not just their flying skill but their ability to coordinate attacks in confined spaces while under fire.

“I’ll take the left side, you cover the right,” Jim said.

“I don’t need covering. I’ve got this.”

Jim clenched his teeth. “Just stay in formation.”

Despite the disagreement, they executed the attack run with reasonable coordination, both dragons unleashing breath weapons against the target.

Aether’s superheated air struck first, igniting the designated section.

Shadow’s more powerful flame followed, but Marcus’s attempt at a more spectacular attack resulted in reduced accuracy—the blast impacting wider than the designated target zone.

“Canning, precision matters more than showboating,” Redfern’s voice cut through the radio. “In urban operations, collateral damage creates obstacles and endangers civilians.”

“Understood, sir.”

They approached the commercial district with its taller buildings and narrower passages.

This section presented new challenges—multi-story structures creating canyons barely wide enough for a dragon’s wings, rooftop features requiring rapid altitude adjustments, and power lines that had to be navigated with extreme precision.

“Lead position,” Jim called, taking initiative as they entered the new sector. With Aether’s superior manoeuvrability, he could better navigate the tight spaces while Shadow followed.

To Jim’s surprise, Marcus didn’t protest, allowing Jim to take point as they entered the first narrow canyon between office buildings.

Jim guided Aether through the urban canyons with measured control, each wing beat and tail adjustment calculated to maintain optimal clearance from the surrounding structures.

Behind them, Marcus kept Shadow in tight formation, the black dragon adjusting to the confined space.

When smoke shells launched from windows and rooftops, both dragons executed coordinated evasive manoeuvres, weaving through the architectural maze without breaking formation.

“My lead,” Marcus called, guiding Shadow into an aggressive acceleration that brought him alongside Aether in the narrow passage.

Jim had two choices—yield the lead position or risk dangerous proximity in a space barely wide enough for one dragon, let alone two.

He eased Aether back slightly, allowing Marcus to take point.

“All yours,” he said, maintaining close formation behind Shadow.

Marcus pushed the pace, guiding Shadow through the slalom course with aggressive precision. The black dragon’s powerful wings drove them forward at a speed that left minimal reaction time between obstacles.

Jim matched the pace with Aether, refusing to be left behind despite the increasing risk.

Buildings blurred past on either side, the gaps between structures seeming to narrow with their accelerated speed.

This had transformed from a training exercise into a direct competition—each manoeuvre a challenge, each turn a test of nerve.

Ahead loomed a crumbling bell tower—a deliberate obstacle positioned to force a complex evasive manoeuvre. The structure had a narrow gap beneath its partially collapsed upper section, requiring either a tight roll to pass through or a significant detour around.

Jim analysed the approaching obstacle, calculating clearances and trajectories. The gap was navigable but would require perfect timing and minimal wing extension—a challenging manoeuvre even under ideal conditions.

Shadow banked into what appeared to be the beginning of a roll manoeuvre, wings tucking closer to his body as he aligned with the narrow gap.

Jim followed, guiding Aether into a similar approach but with slightly more conservative timing—allowing fractionally more space to execute the roll cleanly..

Shadow entered the gap at maximum speed but slightly off-axis, his wing tip catching the edge of the stone structure.

The impact dislodged several bricks, sending them tumbling to the ground below as the black dragon fought to maintain stability through the pass.

Marcus recovered, guiding Shadow back into controlled flight within seconds of the clip. But the momentary disruption had cost him momentum and positioning.

Jim adjusted Aether’s approach angle by mere degrees—enough to clear the gap while maintaining speed.

Aether rolled through the opening with fluid grace, wings tucking and extending at exactly the right moments to avoid contact with the structure.

As they emerged beyond the bell tower, Jim found himself in the lead position, having executed the cleaner passage through the obstacle.

Marcus guided Shadow back into formation behind Aether.

The final section of the course approached—the river crossing featuring a stone bridge.

The manoeuvre required a low-altitude approach, a dive beneath the bridge’s arch, followed by an immediate vertical climb to avoid structures on the far bank.

The sequence tested every aspect of dragon handling—speed control, dive angle, wing tucking, and the critical transition from horizontal to vertical flight.

The bridge arch provided approximately twenty feet of clearance above the water—sufficient for a dragon’s passage but requiring precise altitude control.

The buildings beyond stood perhaps thirty feet from the bank, demanding an immediate climb after clearing the bridge.

Jim reduced speed slightly, measuring the approach rather than rushing headlong into the challenge, creating the optimal entry velocity for the complex manoeuvre ahead.

“You’re too cautious, Ashford,” Marcus said. “Watch how it’s done.”

Shadow surged forward, wings driving the black dragon past Aether in a powerful burst of speed.

Marcus approached the bridge at excessive speed, leaving minimal margin for the complex altitude adjustments required.

Shadow dived towards the arch, wings tucked tight against his body to clear the stone structure. He passed beneath the bridge cleanly but immediately faced the greater challenge—the vertical climb needed to avoid the buildings beyond.

At the speed Marcus had chosen, the transition required exceptional strength and perfect timing.

Shadow strained upward, wings beating furiously as he fought to convert horizontal momentum into vertical climb.

The buildings loomed too close, the angle too steep for Shadow’s mass and velocity.

Through sheer power and Marcus’s skilled handling, the black dragon managed the climb—but with such a narrow margin that his tail narrowly missed the nearest structure.

“Canning, you’re flying like an idiot,” Redfern’s voice cracked through the radio. “Speed without control is just faster death.”

Jim approached the same obstacle with measured calculation, guiding Aether into a more controlled dive beneath the bridge. Their speed was lower than Shadow’s.

As they emerged from beneath the arch, Jim shifted his weight forward, signalling Aether to initiate the climb.

Aether’s wings extended to maximum effective angle as he transitioned from horizontal to vertical flight.

They cleared the buildings with comfortable margin, the entire sequence—dive, bridge passage, climb—executed as a single flowing movement without the desperate strain Shadow had exhibited.

The urban simulation zone ended beyond the river, transitioning back to open training grounds where they would complete their landing sequence.

As they emerged from the constructed environment, both dragons visibly relaxed—returning to the open sky they naturally preferred after the confined spaces of the urban course.

Jim guided Aether into a gentle banking turn towards the designated landing area, maintaining proper formation discipline despite the competitive tension that had dominated their flight.

Aether touched down, wings flaring to bleed off speed before folding against his sides as his claws contacted the ground.

Shadow landed moments later, his greater mass requiring more runway to decelerate.

Marcus dismounted, his movements sharp.

As Jim dismounted, Ronnie approached from where he and Wilson had completed their own run through the course.

“Well, that was terrifying,” Ronnie said, clapping Jim on the shoulder. “Thought you two were going to collide at that bell tower.”

“Closer than I’d have liked,” Jim said. “Urban flying leaves less room for error than I expected.”

Wilson joined them. “You fly well, Canning,” he said as Marcus passed. “But you think too much about winning instead of fighting.”

Marcus shot Wilson a glare. Without responding, he continued towards the debriefing area where Redfern awaited.

Redfern strode towards the assembled recruits, hands clasped behind his bac. “Decent work today. Some of you managed not to embarrass yourselves. Urban operations require a different mentality than open-sky combat—precision over power, control over speed, tactical awareness over individual glory.”

His gaze swept across the recruits, lingering briefly on each pair. “Blake, Wilson—good coordination in the commercial sector. Work on your timing during vertical transitions.” He moved on. “Cooper, Edwards—acceptable navigation but poor target acquisition. More practice on breath control in confined spaces.”

When he reached Jim and Marcus, he paused slightly longer. “Ashford, best execution on the course. Your bridge crossing was particularly well handled.”

Jim managed to keep his expression neutral. “Thank you, Sergeant.”