193 Ups and Downs (1/2)
The skies above the clouds were in a state of perpetual tension.
Over on the left, three Battle Galleons from Ashdale hovered surrounded by a formation of La Vive Strike Frigates in escort. Across untold miles of open space, angular Germat gunships completely covered in plates of iron armor roved by in patrol squads of four. Over on the other side was a massive mothership owned by the Ira Caliphate, a veritable island held up by clouds of golden silk balloons. Much closer by and a little behind them was a cluster of flying mountains, or at least what looked like such.
”Flying Mountains Formation.” Phoebe recognized it. ”That's the trademark airship fleet of the Nine Mountains.”
Only they would be nuts enough to fashion airships that looked like mountains on purpose.
Mendev Zeppelins hovered in the distance. High above, a Libertaria Observation Balloon made a little speck against the backdrop of the endless blue sky. In the horizon were a pair of Sky Dragon airships from the Dragon Empire, long, rakish airships plated with scales and adorned with heads shaped like dragons. More and more airships from more and more powers dotted the scene, most of them generally staying a safe distance from each other, but all quite capable of keeping an eye on everybody else at a glance.
The skies above the clouds were filled with tension. There was no fighting here for the moment, but all it took was a single rash move and whole fleets would burn before the day was over.
Talia stared in a daze for a long minute, and then another. Most of the airships around here were easily identifiable with one nation or the other. Given the looks of the Red Fang, the rough armor plating, the thick leather covering of the envelope, veils covering the openings to keep sand out, all colored red, orange and sand-like… just about everyone would peg it as an airship from Fal'herim.
”Incoming transmission. It's an invitation from the Ira Caliphate.” The comms officer on duty mentioned.
Right. Fal'Herim was one of the Coalition of Six. The Ira Caliphate, the Saudara Nation, Paleres, Kuasa Besar, and the Rainforest Commonwealth made up the other five. It made perfect sense that they would be counted as friendlies by Ira.
Phoebe hesitated. Flying with Ira would likely afford them some measure of protection; out here, their island-like mothership was clearly the largest airship in the skies. But Phoebe herself had a low impression of the Coalition of Six, particularly in light of their practice of slavery. Their airship might be from Fal'Herim originally, but the people on board were generally freed slaves who had fought against Fal'Herim.
”Turn them down, saying we won't be here long.” Phoebe decided. ”Helm, descend into the cloud layer.”
”Wait. What?” the helmsman paused.
”You heard me. The cloud layer.”
”The cloud layer?! You want to fly blind in the clouds?”
”There are other senses we can rely on other than sight.”
”But… even so… there's no telling what we might bump into or… or…!”
”It would be safer than flying up here alone or worse, meeting the slavers.”
Still, the helmsman hesitated. But after a few long seconds, the airship began to descend back into the clouds.
There. Soft, white mists thickly surrounded them. For a minute, they were at peace, completely isolated from the world in this little safe pocket of blind invisibility.
Then…
POW! The explosion took place overhead. Phoebe looked up only to see the envelope of their airship thoroughly pierced by two huge horns.
Horns on an airship? The horned stealth ships of Bulrak?!
Of all the things they could have crashed into within the cloud layer, that was the worst possible! What kind of bad luck would it take for this sort of thing to happen?!
Actually, other than Bulrak's horned airships, who else would be happily speeding around blindly in the clouds hoping to crash into somebody?
The Red Fang's gas envelope was protected by reinforced leather and magical wards, even a layer of mana shielding, but the Bulraki horns were heavily magicked, thoroughly reinforced and deliberately built for piercing armored airships… for those horns to crash into the balloon part was just…
”We're going down!” The helmsman yelped, as the Red Fang lost altitude at an increasing rate.