The tail gunner's seat
The Tail Gunner card doesn't fly a plane of its own — you ride a friendly Leviathan into the fight and work its aft guns. It's a different way to be in the air: no stick, no throttle, just a turret, the enemy closing from behind, and a crew you're along for the ride with. This pass makes the seat feel the way it should.
What the seat is
Pick Tail Gunner and you drop into the aft station of a friendly Leviathan that's already climbing out. Your turret looks aft; you never touch the stick. The bomber flies its run the way a bomber has to — straight and level, bombs aimed at the enemy bases clustered around the central crossroads — and your job is the guns that keep fighters off its tail. It's a brave, slow, exposed ride, and the flak around those bases solves for straight lines. Bombers are supposed to be a little doomed. Riding shotgun on one is its own kind of glory.
Two things about that ride used to leave you lost. If a bomber went down while you were aboard, you rode the wreck's crash spin all the way to the deck — staring at the ground, orbiting the crossroads, nothing to do. And if there was no friendly bomber up when you picked the card, the game quietly handed you a fighter you never asked for: you chose Tail Gunner and found yourself flying a Sparrowhawk, wondering what happened.
Wait for a bomber — then get seated
No friendly bomber up when you pick the seat? You now wait for one. The spawn screen shows a gold WAITING FOR A BOMBER hold, and the moment a friendly Leviathan launches, you're dropped straight into its tail station — no button to press, no re-pick. Don't feel like waiting? The picker stays live the whole time, so one card puts you in a fighter and into the fight right now. No more silent bait-and-switch: you get the seat you asked for, or you choose something else.
Take your eyes off the gun
The seat grew freelook. Hold the look key — right mouse on desktop, drag on touch — and the view lifts off the turret to swing around the bomber: forward over the pilot, out at the fight, up at the sky. Your aim stays put; you're just looking. For the first time you can actually take in the machine you're strapped to and the battle you're crossing. A chip along the bottom of the screen always names whose bomber it is and how to leave: RIDING Duchess Divebomb's Leviathan · hold RMB to look · F to bail. You always know where you are, whose run you're on, and where the door is.
The ride is meant to be brave
The bomber still flies straight and level into the flak, and that's on purpose — a bomber has to hold its line to put bombs on target, and half the drama of the tail seat is the fighters that come for you because of it. This wasn't about making the ride safe. It was about making it feel like what it is: you're the gunner on someone's brave, slow, glorious run, and now you can see every second of it.
Tower out.