MiG-27 vs A-10

>Twas sunny day on the airfield
>Multiroles fucking about in the clouds
>Mechanic anon climbing into a 747's exhaust pipe
>Thunderbolt relaxed, settling back into the oversized lawn chair that dominated a good portion of the taxiway
>drinking JP8 like usual, listening to Blue Stahli
>suddenly, something knocked into the side of her chair
>sunglasses off, she fixed her gaze on the smaller plane
"Who the hell are you? You're new around here."
>the flying wing gave the ground attack aircraft a bored look
"My designation is Mikoyan-Gurevitch Скат, the newest-"
>The drone's voice trailed off as the larger tank hunter punted it like a football into the distance.
"What kind of name is 'Scat' anyway? Fuckin drones." The attack aircraft settled back into her chair, this time opening an issue of Flyboy.
>It wasn't long until something happened.
"OH SHIT!" The area around the jet exploded. Thankfully she dove behind the hangar building before she was turned to scrap.
"THUNDERBOLT! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"
>Thunderbolt peeked out from behind the hangar, and felt the familiar heat of a laser rangefinder centered between her eyes.
>The plane in question with the laser rangefinder was an old nemesis of Thunderbolt- The MiG-27, named Balcony.
>Balcony, because her pilots were seated up high, and also she had huge t-
"JUST WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON?" The Russian ground attacker growled, her gas-driven GsH-30 glaring at her under the plane pony's chin.
>That gun could spin up faster than the American plane's Avenger.
"Your son? Orville Wright, you had a kid?!" A hot plume of air slightly turned the russian's cannon barrel.
"Right! Sorry, sorry. Your kid bumped into me on the taxiway. I just gave him a launch assist. No lasting damage."
"Thunderbolt, I fucking hate you. You picked on me at the Academy. Now you're picking on my son?"
"Look, your kid bumped into me, okay?
>The MiG didn't move. That cannon barrel was getting awful close to the next hammer ratchet.
>Thunderbolt weighed her options. Balcony looked pretty busted up from her first gun-run. If she could outmaneuver, Balcony might shake herself apart...
>or, you know, she could just continue to apologise. Like a wimp.
"Fuck yo couch!" Thunderbolt launched into the air, white-hot heavy 30mm projectiles grazing her back legs.
>the smaller, lighter Su-27 had no problem catching up, but Thunderbolt noticed her targeting reticle was cracked. Balcony let loose with the GsH-30, spraying blindly.
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-CHAK
>A jam! Now was her chance!
>Thunderbolt turned around and fired.
CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLIK
"ANON!" Thunderbolt roared, rocketing off towards the hangar with Balcony in hot persuit. Now, she was trying to use dumb-fire rockets as air-to-air rockets.


>Two CIWS, a Tunguska and a M247, simply looked at the two planes fighting to the death.
"Yo... should we do something?" the Tunguska asked the M247.
"Nah. They'll settle it over something much more stupid."

Source: https://archive.moe/mlp/thread/18390341/#18444855