Chapters Author's Note
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1 - The Storm
“He ripped my fracking ear off!” Eos Typhoon shouted as the medic tried to hold her down.
He was covered in blood, some of it hers, much of it belonging to others. He did what he could to stanch the wound, but she certainly didn’t make his efforts any easier.
All around were screams of the dying as the sounds of battle faded in the distance. It had not gone well for either side, best she could tell. A small bit of personal satisfaction was gained, however, when she managed to skewer the brute that had nearly taken her head when he wounded her. After that, she had become faint from blood loss.
“There,” the medic said as he completed a crude bandage. “You’ll live, but leave that alone and rest if you can.”
Unceremoniously, he moved on to the next wounded pony that he could find. The pegasus mare sat up. Doing so made her nearly faint again, so she stayed still, taking in the scene of carnage before her.
Five years, that’s how long she had been fighting the minions of the Storm King. Initially the ponies had been arrogant enough to believe that they would throw him off as they had other threats that had come at them, but with each passing and bloody year, with each comrade lost to the war, such hopes slowly evaporated. All that was left was the next day, the next battle, the next loss.
Eos Typhoon spit on the ground. At this point, she just wanted an end to the fighting. Either the Storm King could walk away, or they had to find a way to defeat him decisively for once. The constant stalemate was costly for both sides.
“You still alive?” a smooth baritone voice greeted.
The mare looked up instinctively, but she recognized the voice, “Just taking a rest.”
A thin smile did not erase the concern on his face, “You know, you should really learn to when to duck.”
“Frack off, Clipper.”
“I see it didn’t dampen your personality at all. How bad is it?”
She snorted, “As bad as it looks.”
“Not to worry, looks were never your strong suit anyway,” he teased.
“Have you always been such an insufferable ass, or did you take lessons somewhere?” She may have been miserable, but that wasn’t going to stop her from sparring with her little brother.
“I learned from the best, Sis,” he said with a wink.
Fast heavy footsteps heralded another arrival, “Oh my gods, are you okay?”
“I’ll live.”
Joining the two pegasi was an earth pony of stout build. His nose scrunched at the bandages on the mare’s head.
“That looks really bad.”
“I said I’m fine.”
Clipper smirked, “I’m sure I could find an unoccupied tent for you two.”
“Watch it,” the new arrival warned before Eos Typhoon could think of a snarky comeback.
Clipper shrugged as if he had meant no harm, and the moment passed. She would be ready next time.
“Can you stand?”
“Or course,” she replied.
In the attempt to get her hooves under her, the mare wobbled, caught by the strong earth pony.
“Get off of me,” she shook against him ineffectually.
“Swallow your pride and let me help you.”
Eos Typhoon gritted her teeth, “Fine… thank you, Alluvium.”
Her head pounded as she stood upright. Clipper helped from the other side, and the two of them were able to guide her away. Hooves felt numb as they plodded across the once living debris that lay scattered, cast aside as trash. As she looked up a moment, the carnage stretched as far as her eyes could see.
2 - Armistice
Eos Typhoon scratched at her collar. She had always hated dress uniforms. They were always stuffy and scratchy, and without a doubt, this one was too tight. Still, considering the reason she’d been compelled to don it, she could manage the discomfort.
It was Armistice Day. The cease fire had lasted far longer than anypony had dared to hope, and now, hopes were becoming realized as a final end of the war was actually happening.
“Attention!” Clipper announced, prompting the entire group to stand straight as Commander Granite entered the room.
“As you were,” he said firmly. “As you all know, the armistice will be signed at noon today, and our unit is in the first group to stand down. Until then, we are to maintain our patrols as usual, with the exception that we are under orders to take no action that could result in triggering additional hostilities. This is just a formality, so don’t get overzealous. I’m looking at you, Lieutenant.”
The mare felt her remaining ear, the right one, fold back instinctively under the chiding. Her mane hung over the left side of her head, mostly obscuring the scar that had healed over the wound in the past year.
“Yes, sir,” she threw a salute at Commander Granite.
She may have been annoyed at him, but she had far too much respect for him and his position to step even an inch out of line.
“Any questions?”
“Sir!” a unicorn spoke up.
“Go ahead, Eminence.”
Typhoon always had thought that unicorn names were absurdly pompous.
“I heard from one of the other regiments that they are already permitting wine and other spirits to be served with meals. Would we be able to open one of our casks?”
Granite tilted his head thoughtfully for a brief moment, “Permission denied. We may only be on ceremonial duty, gods know we aren’t even armed at this point, but we are still a fighting unit, and until everything is final, we will maintain clear heads.”
“Yes, sir!”
Commander Granite gave out the assignments. As expected, most of their company was to maintain ceremonies in a small out of the way town of Rocky Crag. The real festivities were nearer the capitol, Alabaster Spire.
As for Typhoon, she would be in a wide patrol, as would the rest of the pegasi in the company. She and Clipper would get just near the southeastern area of the capitol, hardly close enough to see it, before turning east and making a wide arc back to Rocky Crag.
She didn’t mind the assignment in the least, but having to do it in a starched white dress uniform was the worst. She instinctively brushed her mane to keep it in place over her missing left ear as she and her brother prepared to depart.
Taking to the skies was always a favorite pastime for a pegasus. Granted, years of armed conflict had made the carefree frolic amongst the clouds a bygone memory, but even on alert or scouting for enemy positions, just being up in the air was like coming home for Eos Typhoon. On this day, she felt more at peace than she had for quite a long time.
“So, I see you talk to Alluvium a lot,” Clipper said nonchalantly.
His sister was instantly put on guard, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing really, I was just noticing is all.”
“You talk to him a lot, so what?”
Clipper didn’t answer for a while as they continued a northerly course.
“Well,” he eventually broke the silence, “he’s solid, and you could do worse.”
Eos Typhoon couldn’t help but feel unsettled at her brother’s candor. She had become so accustomed to teasing from him that it caught her off guard.
“Where is this coming from?” she finally asked.
“The war is over, Sis. Our company is being disbanded, so we’re going to have to find other things to do. You know, live life, find jobs we hate, get a mortgage, maybe start our own families eventually.”
“Frack me, we’re not even discharged yet and you’re already getting more sentimental than an actress.”
He couldn’t help but smile, “Come on, under that gruff exterior, I know you’ve got a molten milk chocolate interior.”
“Not likely,” she snorted.
Still, now that it had been brought up, it did make the mare wonder how she felt about Alluvium. She’d been so focused on the war, and so afraid to get too close to anyone, that she hadn’t considered such things. All too suddenly the future came into focus in a way that it had not for quite a long time.
“What’s that?” Clipper pointed at a small cloud in the distance.
Eos Typhoon strained to see. It looked like an airship was behind the puff of cloud. The Storm used airships regularly, but what would one be doing in this area?
“Let’s take a look…” the mare felt herself hesitate. “Hey, we should… fly casually. We don’t want to be responsible for an incident, and besides that, we are not armed. So we should avoid a confrontation unless you think we can best them with only harsh language.”
Clipper laughed as they slowly altered their course to bring them into closer proximity to the mysterious cloud. They kept from aiming directly at it, but continually angled closer and closer until they were almost on top of it.
From their modest distance of perhaps fifty yards, they could just make out the airship that was within the cloud. Strangely, it almost seemed as if the cloud was emanating from the deck below the bag.
“Hello there!” Eos Typhoon called out as the two made their course parallel.
Silence reigned for a long moment. The mare wasn’t sure what to do next. If there was some trouble, and the crew were incapacitated in some way, they may have needed help but been unable to respond.
Clipper tried next, “Can anybody hear me?”
Again, no response came as the two took up a position near the bow of the airship, still obscured by a cloud. Granite’s warning still hung heavy in Eos Typhoon’s mind. Even so, the bizarre situation had to be investigated. Either the crew was in trouble, or they were up to something.
“Come on,” the mare said as she began moving toward the deck. “If you can hear us, we are coming aboard! We come in peace! I say agin, we mean no harm!”
The two closed the distance, entering cloud and landing on the deck. An icy chill met their hooves as they touched down. The foggy nature of the area made an eerie experience. Even from within, they could not see the entire ship for the density of the mist.
“Is anybody here?” Clipper called out again.
They waited for a reply that didn’t come.
Eos felt herself shiver, instinctively reaching for a weapon that was nowhere to be found, “This is just weird.”
“Brr, why is the deck so cold?”
“No idea, but that explains the fog.”
“Hmm,” Clipper mused.
“Let’s… work our way aft and see if we can find a hatch, or any of the crew.”
The pair walked slowly, eyes searching for anything that might give them a clue as to what was happening.
“Hey, look at this,” Clipper stopped suddenly.
Eos Typhoon directed her attention to where he had indicated. There were blocks of solid white ice lining the deck that the two hadn’t seen when they initially boarded. It was definitely the source of the fog.
“That doesn’t look quite like ice to me,” he noted.
“I think it’s carbon ice. But if it’s not being used to keep something cold, why is it here?”
“What if the fog is the reason it is here?”
A sinking feeling in the mare’s stomach told her that the two needed to leave. No sooner had that thought crossed her mind that everything went white as a sharp pain cracked through the side of her head. Eos Typhoon was driven down to her knees, though she hardly felt it. Muffled sounds of a struggle played in her ears, but she was too dazed to react.
As her sight came back, a small circle that widened in the whiteness, Clipper bucked a large white ape over the side of the airship, just to be immediately harassed by another. As feeling returned, Eos discovered that she was being dragged away from him.
Move!
She needed to move. Eos shook, a feeble attempt to free herself. For her trouble, she felt her head snatched up by her mane and something sharp pressed into her throat. Clipper was still busy, but managed to glance her way as her assailant spoke.
“Stop, or I slice her!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Clipper spun and vaulted right at Eos. She flinched as the knife pressed tight before falling away. Clipper’s hooves caught the ape that was holding her directly in the face. She was then lifted, struggling to move as Clipper shouted.
“We have to go!”
They made for the edge, surrounded and being hit, just trying to force their way through. They were being smothered under a rain of fists that pummeled them toward the deck.
The next thing she knew, Eos Typhoon felt the rush of wind on her face as she tumbled through the air, falling freely. It took a moment for her to get her bearings and arrest the spin. Her head pounded with each beat of her heart.
Clipper.
Where was he? She opened her wings and began to slow her fall, and as she did, something fell past her. Looking back, she saw Clipper and an ape, both stained with red. The pegasus was unmoving, but the ape thrashed and flailed as he fell.
The mare turned and went into a dive, trying to close the distance with her brother. The ground was coming up fast. He was in no way attempting to slow his fall, his limp form speeding carelessly downward. She worked the air with her wings, trying to pick up speed. It was working, but not fast enough.
The ground was close. If she didn’t break now, or in the next few seconds, she wouldn’t be able to pull up in time. He was too far away. No! It wasn’t going to end this way. Clipper was not going to die here. Eos Typhoon would save him.
Instinct pushed her wings open, turning her falling energy into lift. She pulled up, away from the ground and helplessly watched her brother smash into the rocks below.
Hot tears burned in her eyes as Eos got her bearings and made her course straight back to her base. She had to make sense of what had just happened. She had to understand. The war was over; they were signing an armistice. What was an airship doing there? Why had they been attacked?
She pumped her wings hard to pick up speed. She could not stop until she got back. Her head felt like it was going to split itself open from the pressure, pounding, pounding, hammers on anvils against her skull.
There was only one conclusion she could come to for a covert ship that would attack unarmed scouts on sight. A military operation was underway. The enemy was making a move, and they didn’t want it noticed.
With a little luck, maybe they’d think she had also been killed in the fall. She had to get back to base, had to raise the alarm.
3 - Armistice
“What in Tartarus happened to you?” someone shouted as Eos Typhoon landed at her company’s assigned outpost.
She ignored the question and brushed past everyone until she found Commander Granite. He was looking over some paperwork and discussing it with their clerk. She interrupted without a second thought.
“Commander Granite, Clipper and I were attacked by a hidden airship just off the north eastern edge of our patrol. I believe The Storm is going to launch an offensive, today.”
He looked up at her, eyes widening slightly.
“Where is Clipper?”
“He…” heat returned to her eyes, but she held the tears back. “K.I.A., sir.”
“How does one hide an airship?” his emotions were impossible to read.
“They had lined the deck with carbon ice and water, which was making fog, lots of it. We nearly mistook them for a fracking cloud at first.”
A flash of recognition filled Commander Granite’s gaze, or perhaps it was admiration. He turned his attention to his subordinates.
“Come to alert status. Probable attack underway, prepare for action. This is no drill.” He turned to the radio operator, “Raise Military Command. I need Chief Bedrock.”
“Right away,” the operator replied, her face going ghostly pale.
Addressing Eos again, “Lieutenant, what happened to your head?”
She recounted everything that she could remember from the moment they spotted the airship. Her anger began to burn against The Storm. They violated the cease fire. They killed her brother, tried to kill her. She would return the favor. She would repay; she would make them suffer, blood for blood.
“This is Command Actual, go ahead, Rocky Crag,” Bedrock’s unmistakable voice came over the radio.
“This is Rocky Crag Actual,” Commander Granite began, “One of our unarmed scouting parties discovered an airship hiding in a cloud heading in the direction of Alabaster Spire. Upon investigation, the scouts were attacked, and one of them was killed. The other managed to evade capture and returned to report. It is my belief that an attack is imminent.”
“That is quite a serious accusation… Do you have any confirmation beyond the one scout? Have any other scouts reported anything out of the ordinary?”
“Negative, the scouts were sent in pairs and the second is K.I.A. No other scouts have reported anything suspicious at this time.”
“I will send scouts to the area and find out what happened more fully. Maintain your posture of observation only and continue to report.”
Granite’s jaw clenched, “Command, if an attack is underway, every second we delay could be disastrous. My company is effectively unarmed. Request permission to equip my company for possible contact.”
“Rocky Cragg, it is imperative that no action is taken that could escalate this incident into a military confrontation. We have negotiated hard for the armistice, and we cannot allow anything to jeopardize the peace, is that understood?”
Through gritted teeth, Granite said, “Understand, take no action.”
“Stand by for further orders when we find out more. Command out.”
“Rocky Crag, out.”
The radio operator hardly had time to sever the connection before Eos Typhoon lost her composure.
“What the actual frack is that idiot thinking? Take no action? What kind of plan is that? Why don’t we just slit our own throats and be done with it?”
Commander Granite met her gaze and stared, boring through her eyes and into her soul. So severe was his expression that words left her. He agreed with everything she’d just said, but there was a warning that she’d best not speak further.
It was her turn to speak through gritted teeth, “Apologies for speaking freely without permission, sir.”
He eased somewhat, seeming satisfied.
“The problem is, that they know where we are, and probably that our disposition is limited after the arms drawdown,” Granite said thoughtfully. “First we need to run inventory on what weapons we have available, and where we can get more without being stopped, in the event hostilities do break out.”
They stood for a moment before he looked back to Eos and added, “I hope you’re wrong, Lieutenant.”
A lump formed in her throat. She wished the same thing, wished her brother was still by her side, but he was gone. She knew what she’d seen. What other explanation could there be?
“I’m not…”
He sighed, “I know.”
4 - Armistice
Eos Typhoon stared down at her dress uniform, which she had doffed in favor of her much more practical camouflage patterned uniform. The overly starched white fabric was stained with great splotches of blood, though very little of it was hers.
She just couldn’t push the thought from her mind that when she’d put it on that morning, Clipper had been fine. He’d been standing right there beside her, but now he was gone, smashed like an insect.
Rage.
She wanted nothing more than to hunt down every last member of The Storm and put them down like rabid dogs. For now she could only wait, wait for something to happen. This was the part she loathed most. Being in battle was terrifying, exhilarating, but at least she had a direction, a focus, an objective. Standing here waiting made her feel helpless.
“Lieutenant,” an aide caught her attention, “we’re about to have a briefing.”
“Aye,” she answered simply.
Leaving the blood stained uniform where it was, Eos turned and marched to the corridor, catching herself on the door frame. Her head pounded from where she’d been struck before. She was not certain whether she had a concussion, but she certainly hoped not. In any case, she was functional enough to keep moving for now.
She made her way to the briefing room, where all of the officers were gathered. Commander Granite was last to arrive, bearing some notes, likely on their supplies. He began speaking unceremoniously, easing the tense silence in the room.
“As you know, we were due to stand down this afternoon. As such, our supplies are limited. We have ten defensive cannons that are in good shape and a hundred smoking tracer shells. The bad news is that we have only twenty delay fuse exploding shells. Any action that sees air ships come at us… we are not prepared for such an engagement.”
Some slight murmuring rippled as he paused, but it faded as quickly as it had begun. On average it could take as many as five shots from a cannon to hit an airship, to say nothing of making a kill shot. They would have to make good use of the tracers to verify distance and fuse time for the exploding shells.
“Small arms are not much better. For the ninety soldiers and staff on station, we have thirty-eight pistols and ten rifles with a hundred rounds each, and no dynamite. We also have ten bayonets, and assorted field packs with med kits.”
“Rations are in better shape, but I swear I will have the head of anyone who even thinks about opening any of the spirits before I give the all clear.”
Commander Granite set down the report and paced the length of the briefing room.
“Tonight, the armistice is supposed to be signed, but in the meantime, we have reason be believe that a surprise attack may be attempted. As such, it is my intention to re-arm this outpost and make ready to repel any such attack.”
“We will be committing all thirty-one of our remaining pegasi to make trips to our supply depot on the Thunder Cliffs. As that location is out of the way and to the east, it is likely that our movements will go unnoticed initially. If we have luck on our side, we will be properly armed before anyone challenges us.”
He stopped pacing and regarded his officers, “I don’t have to remind you what our enemy is capable of. You all know too well. Even so, it is imperative that every action we take is not the one to initiate combat on the eve of peace. Do everything you can to avoid a confrontation. As for us defending the base, cannon crews will not be permitted to load until I give the order.”
“Any questions?”
“What small arms are we sending with the pegasi detachment?” one of the officers asked.
“Each will carry a pistol, except for two that will carry rifles. Any other arms they need will be found at the depot.”
Commander Granite looked around the room, searching for more questions. There were none. As his blue eyes met her green, for a brief moment of recognition, she became profoundly aware of the trust he placed in her. In spite of feeling the need to warn her against impulsive actions that very morning, he hadn’t questioned her account of events, not even once. A swell of pride rose up in her chest, but it faded to normal levels as he ended the briefing.
“Very well. Get to your assignments.”
As everyone disbursed, Eos Typhoon followed the pegasi and was soon outfitted with a field kit and pistol, a standard issue thirty-eight caliber revolver. Included were thirty cartridges. She checked the cylinder and barrel before loading seven shots. The eighth was left empty to prevent unintended discharges, should one accidentally mash the hammer against the blasting cap of the loaded cartridge.
“Eos!” a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Alluvium.”
He was about to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. If she hadn’t known him so well, she may not have so plainly read the sorrow in his eyes. It was visible for but a moment before melting into a stoic calm.
“I heard about Clipper,” he said plainly.
Such a simple statement, but it somehow made her feel the slightest comfort. He knew; he understood. He felt the hurt as she did, he shared her pain.
She mustered everything she could in reply,“Yeah…”
“We’ll pay them back a hundred times over, gods be with us.”
“Yeah,” she said with resolve. “I will kill every last fracking one of them if I get the chance.”
“So be it.”
All of her gear secured, she said goodbye. Within mere minutes, the pegasi were on their way. The air had a stillness to it that unsettled her. She eyed every puff of cloud with great suspicion as they made their way to the Thunder Cliffs. Even so, all was quiet even as they neared their destination.
The wind sheers became suddenly violent, sweeping the squadron of pegasi toward the rocks. Expert flying led them on a parallel course that allowed them to continue closing at a safer velocity. It must have been difficult to build the munitions depot in such a hostile location, but it was equally brilliant. The near constant sea wind made the area nearly impossible for passage by airships.
Getting the gear out and to the field was it’s own ingenious bit of engineering. Gliders had been in use for a long time, but to modify that concept to give them both the payload capacity for munitions deployment and sturdy enough frames to punch through the wind sheers was a marvel.
Rocky Crag was at the effective range of the gliders, though the intent was to further deploy by railroad or other means. If all went well, thirty-one gliders loaded to capacity would provide quite a lot of firepower for Commander Granite’s company to work with.
It was difficult flying to make their final approach and landing on a ledge three quarters of the way up the cliff face. The tide was coming in, making the waves crash below like great cymbals from an orchestra of giants, or perhaps a bit more like the thunder for which they were appropriately named.
Eos Typhoon kept her focus on the pegasus in front of her, the wind, and the sheer rocks that would not even feel it were she to impact and be crushed against them. The fast air whipped through her mane, blowing it to one side and then the other. Her heart pounded easily two dozen times between each thunderous wave of sea striking the rocks below.
She expertly worked the wind, finding the hard stone ledge beneath her hooves as she folded her wings. Leaning against the cliff, the worst of the wind only helped to keep her pressed against it. She inched forward and into a grotto before turning to assist the next pegasus to land.
All were accounted for, and so the group took a moment to catch their breath before opening the vault-like door that sealed the secret munitions depot. Some sporadic chatter broke out throughout the group.
“How’s your head?” Flitt asked, gesturing at the bandage that Eos wore.
“I’ll manage,” suddenly self-conscious, she brushed her mane back into place over her missing ear.
Flitt shifted nervously as she sat, as if in anticipation for something.
“Are you okay?” Eos asked.
“Me? Yeah… well… I was really looking forward to an end for all of this… I guess. I really don’t want the fighting to start up again.”
Eos Typhoon snorted, “Yeah, me too.”
“That’s enough chit chat,” Captain Squall said as she stood. “Let’s get this door open. The gear ain’t gonna load itself.”
The group got up and waited as Squall worked the combination for the door. In a short minute, she was turning the handle round and round to unscrew the deadbolts that held it secure. It clanged to a stop, and she swung the door open.
The group filed into the dark, hardly able to see more than a few yards. Flitt managed to find the light switch and clicked it on. A dull boom could be heard with each row of overhead lights that ignited as electricity ran through the circuit. Bright for a moment, they seemed immediately to begin dimming somewhat.
“Batteries are low,” Squall noted. “We’ll have to run the generator or we’ll be in the dark again. Lieutenant, secure the door. Then you and Flitt get down to the generator and get it started. I’ll organize our munitions loading and meet you there.”
Everyone disbursed to their assignments. Once Eos Typhoon was certain that the vault-like door was locked, a much simpler affair from within, she and Flitt started for the generator room, following a pictograph on the wall that offered directions.
The facility had been carved out of the rock, making it less cave-like for all the straight lines and corners. The light was down to half intensity by the time they got there, and Flitt stopped short.
“What’s wrong?” Eos asked.
“I… thought I heard something.”
Eos strained her ears, gently unsnapping the holster in which her pistol resided. She didn’t expect trouble at that moment, but it comforted her to have it. She listened, but the rest of the group was too far away, and nothing else reported to her ears. The silence was large, almost menacing.
“It must have been my imagination,” Flitt said sheepishly.
With an eye roll, Eos mocked, “Gee, you had me really scared for a minute there. Do you think you could hold me?”
Flitt playfully swatted Eos away and the pair continued into the generator room. It was a utilitarian space, with one entire wall being a closed in and insulated diesel generator. Flitt found the starting procedure and went through it with ease.
As she depressed the starter button, the great engine whirred to life and the lights flickered before they brightened to full intensity. At that same moment, gunfire erupted throughout the compound.
As her heart leapt to her throat, Eos Typhoon pulled her pistol from holster and dove to one side of the door. The shots were echoing deafeningly such that it was impossible to tell where they were coming from.
Slamming hoofsteps thundered up the hall. Eos moved around the corner, pistol first, and saw one of her comrades, a stallion named Cirrus just as he spun to a halt, raised his rifle back in the direction from which he’d come and opened fire.
Not waiting to see what he’d hit, he turned and bolted into the generator room. To prevent getting knocked over, Eos Typhoon leapt out of his way to the other side of the entrance where Flitt had taken up position. Hardly acknowledging them, Cirrus slammed the door shut. Unable to find a lock, he satisfied himself by propping his body against it.
“What happened?” Eos asked.
“Changelings!” he gasped. “Pack of changelings was in here.”
The shooting slowed, but could still be heard through the door. That was when the mare noticed that the stallion newcomer was bleeding.
“Frack me, you’re hit!”
“Oh my gods that looks bad,” Flitt seconded.
Lowering her pistol, she moved toward Cirrus. His eyes suddenly went wide and he raised his rifle.
“Back up!”
Eos and Flitt froze in place. They couldn’t have been more still if they had been statues.
“Wait!” Flitt begged.
“How do I know you’re not changelings?”
“We just got here and powered up the generator like we were ordered.”
His eyes darted around the room quickly before settling on the pair again. The acrid scent of spent gunpowder combined with the escalation of the circumstances made Eos’s mouth dry.
“Yeah? Were either of you alone at all?”
“Of course not!” Eos scoffed at him.
It was then that Cirrus noticed the pistol that Eos was holding, “Drop your weapons!”
Flitt began to comply.
“Frack that!” she spat back, causing Flitt to hesitate.
“Do it now or I’ll punch a couple of holes through your head.”
Careful not to move, Eos said, “Don’t do it, Flitt. What if he is a changeling?”
“He…”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” He spat back, blood now beginning to pool on the floor.
“He’s not,” Flitt got out. “Changelings have green blood, and his is still red on the floor.”
The three of them glanced down at the pooling blood for an instant, and Eos sprang into action. She vaulted forward, dropping her pistol and pushing the muzzle of the rifle away from herself and Flitt. A shot exploded from the weapon, which she now had firmly in her grasp.
The pair wrestled for control, and Eos found herself slammed against the wall. Cirrus was strong. He was pressing the rifle up toward her throat to cut off her air, and would have probably succeeded, but the color drained from his face, and he staggered back. Eos took the rifle as he lost his grip, cycled the action and leveled it on him.
Cirrus was up to no tricks, but stumbled awkwardly and collapsed. Eos Typhoon was panting from the effort and her head was pounding from her previous wound, but she was pleased that she had managed to not get herself killed. Flitt was still motionless against the wall, a bullet hole mere inches from her head.
“Flitt.”
She didn’t answer.
“Flitt!”
The frightened pegasus jumped.
“We have to stop the bleeding.”
Flitt nodded and she pulled his medical kit, beginning to stanch the flow. A few sporadic shots were still heard through the door, punctuating the tense silence as Cirrus regained consciousness. No doubt being prone and not under strain allowed blood to return to his head. He shuddered, trying to sit up.
“Take it easy,” Flitt said.
He pushed her away, “Get off of me!”
“Cool it!” Eos shouted, “You just passed out. We’ve got to get the bleeding stopped or you’re dead.”
Whether he believed her, or he simply noticed that she had the rifle and he was now disarmed, she wasn’t sure. However, he did comply and stopped struggling.
“Don’t you owe us an apology?” Eos asked smugly.
He scoffed but said nothing. Hoofsteps outside were heard too late for anyone to block the door. It opened and several more of their comrades entered, the business ends of their weapons leading the way. They said nothing, nor did they directly point their weapons at anyone, but stood at the ready as Captain Squall entered the room and assessed the situation.
“Good job. Cirrus, we thought you were dead.”
“Not quite.”
She nodded, “Lieutenant Typhoon and Corporal Flitt, I’m going to need a bit of your blood. It seems we had a bit of a changeling infestation here.”
One of the soldiers used a needle to prick each of their ears in turn. The minuscule amount of blood remained red, as Eos knew it would. Someone came running up the hall, their heavy steps loudly echoing throughout the facility.
“Captain Squall! Captain Squall!”
“Yes?”
“We’ve got the radio working ma’am,” he panted for breath.
“And?”
“Captain…” his face was ghostly pale. “There is a massive attack underway by The Storm.”
Eos Typhoon felt her stomach knot up into a ball. She’d known this was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier to take.
“Widespread fires are covering the entire city…”
“Civilians were burned to death or cut down as they ran by merciless enemy forces…”
“Suffering heavy bombardment, Alabaster Spire collapsed in the opening minutes of the unprovoked and sudden attack…”
“So far as we can tell, the legislature was completely wiped out…”
“The chancellor offered an unconditional surrender, but The Storm still has not broken radio silence…”
“Military command is being led from the Field Marshal’s bunker as counterattacks are underway in every city and town across our nation…”
“Troop effectiveness is severely limited. Some blame armistice celebrations that had been ongoing throughout the morning…”
Eos Typhoon felt herself slump to a seated position. She was listening with Captain Squall and the radio operator to the reports that were coming in. By all accounts, it was nothing short of devastating.
“Have you heard anything from Rocky Crag?” Captain Squall asked.
“No, nothing,” Nimbus answered. “But that may just mean they have their hooves full.”
Squall stepped back in thought. Eos couldn’t say anything. The knot in her stomach threatened to incapacitate her, and that was unacceptable.
“It seems to me that our mission is unchanged,” Squall said. “Only what hope we had in secrecy likely won’t last. We’ve got to get out of here with the supplies, and quickly, or Rocky Crag won’t be able to hold. We know that much.”
The shock turned to anger within Eos Typhoon. The enemy had achieved complete surprise. Her brother had died; she had returned the warning, but the Field Marshal did nothing to prepare.
“Nimbus, continue to monitor the transmissions, but maintain radio silence. There’s still a chance that The Storm doesn’t know about this depot, and if not, there’s no reason to give ourselves away. Lieutenant, you’re with me.”
The two made their way to the launch bay where the rest were busy loading the gliders that they’d be departing with as soon as they were able. In addition to Cirrus, two others were wounded when they’d found the changelings, but his was the worst. Even so, they all helped as much as they were able.
“Is it true?” Cirrus stopped them. “I heard that Alabaster Spire was destroyed.”
All of the loading stopped, bringing an eerie silence to the large room.
“It is,” Captain Squall answered.
A hushed murmur swept through the group at the declaration. Captain Squall let it go a moment before continuing.
“But that’s not something we can control. Right now, we need to get these gliders loaded and so we can get into the fight.”
As abruptly as it had begun, the silence was broken. Eos got to work assisting the others. Each glider would carry two. While the maximum payload capacity was two tons, they could only load one ton into each glider to have enough lift to reach Rocky Crag given the weather conditions they’d be flying into.
She couldn’t help but marvel at the engineering of the gliders. The lightweight aluminum frame and skin that composed the fuselage and long wings was durable and well suited to transporting equipment. The lack of engines limited their range, but was also ideal for being left unused without maintenance for longer periods.
With a maximum payload of two-tons each, the glide slope could get quite steep, but at half that, they should be able to get to Rocky Crag with a little altitude to spare. Ideally they’d have an armed escort at least, but they would have to make do with only a tail gunner as defense.
“Captain Squall! Captain Squall!” Flitt shouted as she ran into the loading bay.
“What is it?”
“I was at the lookout window like you said. We’ve got enemy airships, two of them.”
Squall sighed, “I’m on my way. Double-time loading up. Typhoon, you’re with me.”
They ran to a stairwell that led up to an observation room. As Flitt had reported, two airships were sitting well outside the wind sheers, just hovering there. No doubt they were aware of the munitions depot and were either trying to find a point of attack, or perhaps they were looking for a way in.
“Frack me,” Eos Typhoon muttered.
“Do you think there’s a chance they’ll just pass by?” Flitt asked.
Squall said what Eos was thinking, “No. Look how they are angled. They’re turned into the wind and using their rotors for station keeping. They are right where they want to be.”
“What do we have for defense here?” Eos asked.
“Two cannons, three large mounted rifles, and the gun ports on the gliders.”
“Gliders won’t be any good to carry cargo if we waste altitude trying to fight.”
“Aye.”
Flitt’s voice quivered, “So what do we do?”
The three stood silently for a long moment. Eos Typhoon had known Captain Squall long enough to see that a plan was already forming. Her jaw clenched in thought.
“Let me know if anything changes. Let’s go.”
Captain Squall and Eos Typhoon retuned to the radio room.
“Two airships will have us outgunned,” Squall began. “And when we open fire, they’ll be able to target our cannons fairly quickly. But… we don’t have to destroy them.”
“The frack we don’t.”
Eos Typhoon’s hot comment drew a look from her superior, who didn’t interrupt her own thought process to respond.
“We just have to get the gliders out.”
“The gliders,” Nimbus repeated.
“There are, what, fifty of them?”
“Forty-seven.”
Eos Typhoon wondered for a moment what they were getting at, but it came to her and she blurted it out.
“We send out empty gliders to confuse them?”
Squall nodded slowly, “To ram them. If we take out the airship’s bag, it’s going down.”
Eos felt a lump form in her throat at the prospect of a suicide mission. Sure, they’d probably try to bail out before impact, but either way, it was going to be a dangerous operation.
“This is going to be tricky,” Captain Squall continued. “The wounded should pilot the loaded gliders and get out of here as quickly as they can. Every other one we send out will be to attack, and we will open fire with our cannons at the same time. That should cause enough confusion to give our loaded gliders a chance. As for the attacking gliders, we will commit four to each airship.”
Eos offered, “We’re going to get murdered if we run straight at them.”
“Yeah… so each will have a different objective. Fore, aft, port, and starboard. That will help spread out their fire so they can’t focus it anywhere. With a little luck, maybe one of them will get through.”
“Assuming our cannons don’t get them first,” Nimbus added.
“Aye, the cannons will focus fire on the right. The first four gliders will hit the one on the left. Pilots will be instructed to bail before impact and get back here if they can. We’ll need our best shots on the cannons and heavy rifles.”
“I’ll see to that,” Eos volunteered.
Captain Squall looked to her and nodded, “Very well. Take seven others to assist with shooting and loading,” she paused for a moment. “We’ll be spread pretty thin, and your position will likely get hit hard and fast.”
Eos Typhoon nodded, “Occupational hazard. They just have to hope they can shoot straighter than I can.”
Nimbus couldn’t help but grin at her bravado. In truth, Eos felt a bit more apprehension than she would show, but even that was overshadowed by the chance to face the enemy. She would soon have blood, and Clipper would be avenged.
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7 - Cannon Fire, it is more blessed to give than to receive…
Eos Typhoon had taken up a position with her gun crews, and now they waited for the gliders to begin launching before they opened up a barrage on the airships. It would be nearly impossible to score a kill in the opening moments of the battle, but every shot had to count.
She stared through the binocular scope affixed to her large mounted rifle, watching the deck crew on the left airship. They seemed at relative ease, though they were clearly on alert. They must have known about the munitions depot, but they didn’t seem certain that anybody was home. Still, they manned their posts, and several of the large white apes used telescopes to scan the rock face for anything amiss.
Several times, she had seen them scan right across her position, and each time, the fur on the nape of her neck stood on end. Every time they continued on, not having noticed the cannon emplacement for the way sunlight played on the cliff face, keeping them in shadow.
She guessed the range at eight-hundred yards or more. It wasn’t impossible by any means, but with unknown wind conditions, and uncertainty of distance, her first shot would be her calibration. After that, she should be able to start picking off officers and gunners one by one.
‘Patience,’ she told herself. ‘You’ll get them soon.’
She began sweating, the anticipation making her tongue thick as she waited. It was like an itch that she couldn’t quite reach, begging for relief. ‘Soon, Clipper. Soon.’
Then a minor commotion began on the airship. Several of the apes were pointing, shouting. It was time. Eos looked away from the binoculars for just a moment to confirm that the first two gliders were already in the air. As they took up arms, pointing them in the direction of her comrades, Eos Typhoon unconsciously pushed her hair to cover her missing ear before putting her eyes back to the binocular scope.
She sucked in a final heavy breath, her heart pounding, ready to burst. She held it a moment, centering her crosshairs on the chest of an enemy. Her breath eased out as she squeezed the trigger.
Her rifle exploded to life, heaving back against her, though the restraints on which it was mounted absorbed most of the recoil. The scope steadied in time for her to see the impact of her shot. It struck down and left. Aiming up and right, she mechanically cycled the action on the rifle and squeezed the trigger again as the other three guns and the cannons also flared to life.
Her chosen target fell out of sight. She chose another, one that was shouting orders. Her heart became a drum, pounding in lethal rhythm even louder in her ears than the cannon fire that was erupting all around her. She dropped her second target with a single shot. A smile contorted her face, the thrill of the hunt swelling within her.
As she chose a third victim, her vision was obscured by a smoke round, fired from her own cannons. As theirs was a static position, the few extra seconds concealing their location would no doubt be put to good use. True, it would be difficult for them to see the airships through the smokescreen, but the bags were large targets, and that was the primary objective.
As she couldn’t be sure of another kill on the deck, she aimed up slightly and fired toward the bag. She wasn’t totally sure that her rifle round would do sufficient damage to bring it down. The Storm had been using airships in combat for some time, and they had a knack for repairing small holes. By what mechanism they accomplished this, Eos Typhoon did not know.
She redirected her attention to the right airship. It was less obscured by the smokescreen, and it was taking fire from both cannons and the other rifles as well. This was a mutual sentiment, as the broad side of the airship opened up their own bombardment moments later.
A series of cracks like thunderbolts broke against the cliffs near the position of the cannons, far too close for Eos’ liking. The seemingly immovable stone around her shuddered under the assault. Between the respective roar of incoming and outgoing fire, the pegasus could effectively not hear anything by this point. However, she surely did feel it when a bullet struck one of the lenses of her binocular scope.
Eos Typhoon fell backward from the impact as the front end of the scope exploded, shards of glass spraying in all directions. She stumbled and landed on her posterior, the stone floor sending its own jolt of pain through her body.
As she scrambled back to her position, she caught sight of another pegasus who shouted to her, “You okay?”
“Yeah!” she shouted back, using the remaining half of the scope to aim and fire.
This time, the impact was level and far right, the scope having been knocked out of alignment. She corrected for this and scored another hit. The next victim she chose had the fortune of moving as she pulled the trigger. No doubt he felt the bullet zip by his head and ducked reflexively.
The bolt came back, the empty clip springing out of the breech, signaling that she had fired all of the loaded rounds. Eos Typhoon was going to shout for a reload, but her attentive comrade was already jamming another clip into the breech. With a nod, she worked the bolt and searched for a target.
She took aim for another sharpshooter that was looking directly at her when the staggered impact began of a full broadside from both airships. Eos instinctively dropped to the stone floor, covered her head, and began counting. It should be a few seconds, as the airships would fire each cannon in turn to maintain greater stability.
Shards of shattered rock rained down from all directions, pelting the mare and compelling her to stay down. The air was soon thick with gunpowder and chalky smoke of broken stone, the roar of echoing explosions and unmistakable scent of blood and viscera.
Feeling a cold sweat on her brow, Eos Typhoon came up to find that her rifle had been sheered off and was gone. It gave her pause that she’d been that close to her own end. That thought was redoubled when she noticed that the soldier who had reloaded for her was as felled as her mounted rifle, his boots being all that were left still recognizable amidst the stain on the floor and back walls. Caught between fright and sickness, Eos composed herself as she assessed their situation.
Another of their number lay screaming with a severe wound through her abdomen. It was likely that they would not survive many more such fusillades, but as long as they had working guns, they needed to help keep fire away from the gliders.
“Focus fire on the right bag!” she shouted.
The gunners went back to work as Eos stopped to render aid to the badly wounded soldier. She deployed clotting agents from her medical pack and got a rudimentary bandage in place. She doubted whether it would be any use, but she had to try. She couldn’t bear the thought of just giving up on one of her own that was still breathing, if for no other reason than the perhaps insignificant value of her presence to give them hope.
In no shape to fight, Eos Typhoon drug the wounded mare back into the stone structure. Unceremoniously, she left her there and charged back down to the cannons. Sniper fire dropped one of her cannoneers. He was dead. Another volley of cannon fire from the airships compelled the survivors to duck and pray.
Eos Typhoon’s heart banged even louder than the concussion of the incoming fire. For a moment she could see through the smoke as the battle unfolded. At least one glider was making a run for it. Three others were converging on the left airship, attempting to ram it. Sharpshooters covered the decks of both airships, targeting gliders and the defensive cannons wedged in the rocks.
One of the gliders exploded from an expertly aimed cannon shot that tore through the fuselage. There was no sign of the pilot. Another glider took heavy amounts of small arms fire and turned lazily as though out of control. The pilot from the final one leapt and dove straight down to a safer position. The airship engaged their propellers at full speed to evade the glider, which caught a gust of wind and impacted into the vertical stabilizer and rudder. Metal crunched as the glider crumpled like a tin can, wrecking the airship’s ability to steer.
The partially disabled airship’s gunners wasted no time concentrating fire on the second wave of gliders that were working their way to the right airship.
Eos Typhoon’s gunners were back up, pouring hot lead toward the right airship as fast as they could reload. Unexpectedly, their right cannon went silent. Eos charged over to it.
“It’s jammed!” the operator shouted.
His reloader was working to clear it when she was struck by a rifle round. Her head rocked sickly to one side as she fell, not even having had time to realize that she’d been shot before she was dead.
This was no place to die.
Eos lifted the body of the fallen mare and used her as a shield as she worked to clear the jam, a difficult task in ideal conditions and doubly so under fire and encumbered.
“I’m not dying here, no fracking way!” Eos Typhoon shouted into the air as she cleared the jam.
She stumbled backward as a rifle round struck the body she carried. She fell under it, unable to be certain whether she was wounded at first. The cannon roared to life, a grin on the gunner’s face. Eos looked up in time to see the center of the bag on the airship burst as the perfectly aimed shot ripped through it.
The right airship immediately began losing altitude, and every gun onboard aimed at the source of their demise. There wasn’t time to run, or do much of anything else. Everyone who was on a rifle or cannon traded fire with the crippled airship. Eos again ducked, this time behind the body she was still under.
She was vaguely aware of the impact as she saw stars for a moment, but everything was dark and quiet after that. Grit in her eyes was the first thing that Eos Typhoon noticed. Why was there always grit? Next a loud ringing in her ears overcame the silence. Sluggish, dull sensation returned to her limbs.
She feebly tried to wipe the grit from her eyes, but her motions were slow and clumsy. All she could see was a light blur, and it hurt too much to try. Then her memory caught up. The battle. She had to move. Redoubling her efforts, the mare cleared the grit from her eyes.
About that time, she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She looked up at one of her cannoneers. He was trying to talk, but she couldn’t hear anything but the ringing yet. He tried again, yelling more slowly and she read his lips.
“We have to go!”
Eos Typhoon struggled to stand, making it up onto her hooves. The entire area was wrecked with the remains of the guns and soldiers who had been operating them. She could just make it out through the smoke, how the twisted remains of pony and rock lay mixed on top of each other. The other survivor, a stallion named Vortex, was completely gray from the rock dust that covered his normally deep purple coat.
The pair helped each other to the exit, finding it partially collapsed but passable if they crawled one at a time. On the other side, Eos found the body of the previously wounded soldier she had drug out. It seemed that blood loss had claimed her.
The two continued on, making their way back to the hangar. The ground rumbled and shook beneath their faltering hooves as they ran, using each other for support.
Eos Typhoon and Vortex stumbled into the launch bay. She could just make out her own hoofsteps now. The ringing in her ears hadn’t subsided, but other sounds returning was a good sign.
Nimbus and Squall were talking as a glider launched. They noticed the incoming pair. Squall turned to them and spoke, concern etched on her face. Eos was about to answer that she couldn’t hear but Vortex beat her to it.
He shouted, barely audible to Eos Typhoon over the ringing, “You’re going to have to speak up! We got blown half way to Tartarus!”
“What is your status!” She shouted back.
“We are all that’s left!” Eos replied, unable to hear her own voice and yelling all the louder for it. “The guns are all destroyed!”
Squall nodded, calculating her next move. She pointed toward the next glider in line to launch.
“You two take that one and get back to Rocky Crag! We’ll be right behind you!”
The bedraggled duo entered through the loading bay and Eos was going to the cockpit. Vortex grabbed her and shook his head.
“Let me fly!” he shouted.
She nodded and began working the crank to shut the loading door. She could feel it clicking away more than she could hear it. Locking it into place, she opened a slot in the ramp and gathered up a rifle. Loading it was almost second nature. With the safety on, and no round in the chamber, she put it through the gun port and tested how far she could angle. It wasn’t too bad, but there were massive blind spots to the sides.
She stowed the weapon and nodded to Vortex, who signaled Nimbus. The stallion outside activated the launch control. A wire on a track in the ceiling pulled taught, and the glider began to move forward. Eos Typhoon strapped herself into a chair and waited.
Within moments the slope of the floor allowed gravity to do its work. The glider rocked and vibrated as it rolled down and accelerated. With a final jolt, they were being buffeted only by the wind. She couldn’t see it, but knew that their launch wheels had fallen away by design. The gliders were only made for a single trip each. Vortex worked the yoke to bring them through the wind sheers and bank toward Rocky Crag.
As Eos unbuckled herself, she could hear wind buffeting the fuselage over the ringing in her ears. She checked out the gun port and could see two of their gliders charging at the remaining airship while a third spiraled, falling from the sky as the pilot jumped out. Hostile fire was pouring out in all directions to stop them, none of which came at Eos and Vortex, for which she was grateful.
Both pilots made it out of their gliders, but one was hit by an expert shot and went limp as he fell. The others got far below the airship before changing direction. The airship was unable to turn from the rudder damage, but the marksmen on deck began shooting at Eos’s glider. The distance was too great and changing rapidly enough that their shots went wild, and the Lieutenant didn’t bother returning in kind.
She felt her stomach tighten uncontrollably, and the mare doubled over. She heaved, but had nothing to bring up. Her head pounded as she sat there a moment collecting herself.
“You okay!” Vortex shouted above the wind.
Her hearing was really getting better, though that awful ringing hadn’t let up yet.
“Yeah!” She called back.
Straightening up, she reclaimed her position at the rear and kept watch. A little bile had worked its way up her throat, the awful taste filling her mouth. She spit it out into the wind. They were in poor shape, but they only had to get back to Rocky Crag. Once they resupplied, they’d be in a much better position to defend.
Her thoughts turned back to the catastrophic radio messages that had been coming in. If even half of them were accurate, The Storm’s offensive had embattled practically the entire country. They had let their guard down with the cease fire and armistice talks, all the while the enemy was plotting, preparing, poising to strike. Eos Typhoon clenched her teeth together.
She stamped her hooves, trying to push the rage away, or at least dial it down to a manageable hate. She grabbed the radio headset and put it on. They never had fit well since she’d lost her ear. She switched it to internal, allowing ease of communication with Vortex.
“How’s it going up there?” She asked.
“Looks clear,” his voice crackled back.
She could make out his words above the ringing, which was steadily subsiding now.
“Same here,” she replied.
The tally light showed that he had switched back to external radio, no doubt to monitor any transmissions that were being broadcast. She did the same.
What met her ears was a large amount of half garbled cross talk and partial messages. Some of it was in military code, but she didn’t get enough to try to decipher any of it. There was also a lot of civilian chatter jamming the frequencies. While there were not many complete messages, they all sounded like distress calls or updates about enemy positions. They seemed to be everywhere.
“… fleet of airships… heading west… unicorn fighters to engage…”
“… massive bombardment… need reinforcements…”
“… go to case orange…”
“… civilian transport… trying to get away from the fighting… any safe harbor…”
Eos Typhoon looked out her rear facing gun port at clear skies. ‘Not quite everywhere,’ she mused to herself. Noticing the tally light switch back to internal communications, she flipped her radio back as well.
“I’m pretty sure we just flew over a downed glider. No sign of enemy yet, but keep your eyes open.”
“Got it,” she replied.
Scanning downward, she watched as the wreckage came into view. It may have been one of their gliders, but it was difficult to be certain.
“Enemy airship at three o’clock,” Vortex said. “They are at speed away. Doubtful they’ll bother us.”
“Copy enemy airship,” Eos Typhoon felt her heart begin pounding again.
Her mouth went dry a few minutes later when the airship came into view. It was not turning to pursue them, which only made her more apprehensive. She looked for a canteen, but the search was fruitless.
“Do we have any water?” she asked into the radio.
“There should be a rations pack just behind the cockpit.”
“All clear?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
She stowed the rifle and made her way through the laden fuselage, working her way around crates of munitions that had been distributed as evenly as possible to preserve the flight characteristics of their aircraft.
Eos Typhoon located the ration pack and took a small but satisfying drink from the canteen. It wouldn’t do to take it all down, so she sated herself with just enough to get her mouth wet before passing it up to Vortex. Hardly glancing at her, he took a swallow before passing it back. She returned it to the pack and made her way back to her position.
By the time she got her headphones on and checked everything a second time, she realized that the ringing had gone from her ears.
“Oh, gods!” Vortex spat over the radio.
“What’s up?”
“Multiple airships from eleven to two. It’s like they were waiting for us.”
Her mind raced into action, “Any chance we can go around?”
A stupid question, Eos well knew, but they had to do something. The gliders were great transports, but they were severely limited on evasive maneuvers if they intended to reach their destination.
“We can’t spare the altitude… any chance we can dump cargo?”
“No time,” she answered simply. “You’re going to have to make us hard to hit.”
“Yeah… I’ll bank toward eleven, that should help a little, but we’re still going head to head with all guns aimed at us, and what do we have?”
“One tail gun,” Eos felt herself cringe. “In another time and place this would be funny.”
The pegasus, against her instinct to not be restrained, returned to her small seat and strapped herself down. All she could do was wait and trust Vortex’s piloting skills.
“They have definitely spotted us…” Vortex announced. “Hang on, it’s about to get rough.”
Eos sucked in breaths mechanically and spewed them back out. She did not want to be here.
The glider nimbly lurched to one side and then the other. Small quick movements tossed the mare in her seat. The sound of distant cannon fire was nearly lost to the wind, but a great fast buzzing could be heard. It was as if giant bees were zipping past their aircraft.
A loud thud punctuated the other sounds. They had definitely been hit by something small, probably a sharp shooter’s bullet. It didn’t sound serious, but Eos could only hold on. A knot formed in her stomach at her inaction. She wanted, needed to move, to shoot back. She had to do something, anything.
Instead, she gritted her teeth and held on to her restraints. The unmistakable sound of exploding shells began to fill the air as they detonated all around. Turbulence created by the barrage made the entire glider shudder.
A series of thuds against the fuselage preceded more drastic action. They went into a brief dive before leveling out. Vortex continued the aggressive evasive motions while muttering harsh language under his breath.