All the Greenskin players knew that if you looked up from the ground, Blue Star's sky was a sickly color whether it was day or night. Thick purple-gray leaden clouds hung low overhead, vaguely creating an oppressive sense of ill omen.
But above the clouds, within the gaps between those leaden masses, the sky was another color... a deep blue, almost ink-black, beautiful shade, with stars occasionally glimmering within it.
At that moment, five aircraft flew in formation at high altitude, arranged in a loose wedge.
At the front was a Viking. It remained in fighter configuration, with swept-back wings, protruding engine nacelles, and thick armor plating covering its fuselage.
It maintained a steady cruising mode, the exhaust flames from its engines nearly invisible as it flew above the clouds beneath the dark-blue canopy of the sky.
Following behind it were four Banshees, all of them cloaked.
Had they revealed themselves, it would have been easy to see that they were several times smaller than the Viking, with flattened fuselages and no sharp wings. They only had two large missile pods and two fan-blade turbine engines. Yet under the cover of their cloaking systems and the Viking's roaring engines, they exposed no flaws at all, silently flying alongside it.
At that moment, a Greenskin sat in every Banshee cockpit. Some leaned back in their seats with one hand gripping the control stick; some leaned forward, their faces nearly pressed against their visors as they stared at the Viking's exhaust ahead; some hummed songs, their lips moving as inhuman, terrifying melodies squeezed from Greenskin throats; others yawned in boredom, their mouths stretched wide and their fangs fully exposed.
Without question, these Banshees had been specially modified for Greenskins. Not only were they a size larger than those flown by humans, but