Triumph Over Tragedy: an anthology for the victims of Hurricane Sandy

by R. T. Kaelin

  A shudder rolled over her as the squadron made another pass. Rose had enough blood on her hands.

  “Sir,” she said into the mic, “They aren’t readying weapons.”

  “I see that Leftenant.”

  “With all due respect, sir—”

  “Look,” First Airmen Conner said. “When the captain says to do something, you do it. We’re not here to question him.”

  She bit her tongue. That’s exactly why she was there and they all knew it.

  “We have our orders, ladies,” Bennen said. “Open fire. Target the air jellies.”

  Rose shook her head. Without their air jelly, the airships would fall. “I hope we have a sky-fearing good reason for this, sir.”

  The planes around her opened fire, bullets filling the air.

  At once, cannons pushed through the gun ports on the Varga airships. Lightning shot back at the squadron. Rose gained altitude, outside the range of the lightning cannons and targeted the air jelly of the lead ship. Clenching her teeth, she pulled the trigger.

  The air jelly writhed, its scream piercing the glass of the Gypsy as the ship sank into the massive storm. Men and women leapt from the falling ship to the neighboring ones. Few made it.

  One man alone stood at the back of one of the ships, unmoving, tracking Rose’s plane with his eyes.

  Her stomach dropped. “Uh-oh…”

  A gale force wind slammed into the Gypsy and pushed her out of range of the fight. Rose felt and heard one of her wings rip. With a quick glance, she saw it was okay, but not great.

  “Tower, call in the reinforcements,” Bennen commanded.

  “On their way, Captain,” came the reply.

  Rose fought the wind, scrambling to find a way out of it, a way to dodge it. The man on the deck below, his hands raised, watched her every move.

  Through gritted teeth, she hissed, “I seriously hate magick.”

  She turned the Gypsy into the swirling current, pushing the wing speed to maximum, sighted in on her attacker, and immediately lost it. She adjusted, regained lock, and pulled the trigger. Lightning shot from her right cannon and caught the man, his body arching and twitching. The wind buffeting her ship stopped.

  Finally free, she focused her attention on the remaining five air jellies.

  Although the planes had the advantage of maneuverability, the airships had the upper hand by working with the elements. The currents were even choppier than before. Nearly every man and woman on the decks below who weren’t working to drop the sails had their hands raised, a plane in their sights.

  Rose sighted in on another air jelly. All the sails were dropped and the airship raced through the clouds, turning in an impossibly tight circle. How could a ship like that handle so well? With sails?

  The airship tipped, the cannons rising to target her.

  Gritting her teeth, she climbed in elevation. Her ripped wing struggled, but it was only one and only a small tear. She’d had worse and under more dangerous circumstances.

  “Mayday, mayday,” someone shouted over the radio. “I’ve lost electrical.”

  She glanced around. A plane with the picture of a fire hawk on the tail was falling, its engine sputtering.

  “Stay out of range of their cannons!” Bennen called.

  “Like anyone needs to be reminded of that,” muttered Rose. Counting only six planes of her squadron still in the air—they had started with a dozen—she sighed. Apparently, some pilots did need reminding.

  Rose turned her attention back to the airship attempting to target her. “Remind me, sir, when we get back: we need bigger damn weapons.”

  “Noted.”

  Another gust of wind hit her, whether from the storm or from the people on the decks of the airships, she didn’t know. She fought it, struggling to find a way to ride it out while gaining altitude and remaining out of lightning cannon range. She sighted on their air jelly, got him locked in her crosshairs and pulled the trigger.

  With the airship falling from the sky, spinning as it lost altitude, the masts breaking as the sails took on too much wind, she turned her attention elsewhere.

  Suddenly, electricity attacked her body, her muscles clamping shut so tightly she couldn’t move. Who had her? Her motor stuttered. The tips of her wings smoked.

  She took the joystick and pushed with one hand, while using the other to pull another lever with the tips her fingers, and pointed the Gypsy’s nose straight down. With nothing to hold her up, she fell like a bullet.

  “Rose,” Bennen said over the mic, “you have a plan?”

  If her jaw would just unclench enough for her to answer, she would have.

  She shot past the remaining four airships, following a swirling path of broken clouds and screaming air jellies. Fighting her cramping muscles, she pushed buttons, shutting down the engine and controls. She’d designed the Gypsy for situations just like this one. She’d fought the Great Families enough times to know what they had in their arsenal. They were the only ones capable of harnessing lightning, and it worked well against metal ships.

  Fighting back the urge to throw up, and with snot dripping over her lips, she pulled up on the joystick, leveling the wings and the flaps on her tail. The air pushed back with brutal force.

  Something massive and pale whipped by.

  “What the—” She bit that thought off and initiated the engine recalibrating sequence. The motor rumbled and sputtered. “Come on, baby. Come on!” She flipped the switch to roll the engine over.

  It whined to a start, the force of the air relaxing as the wings flapped frantically, slowing down her decent.

  She breathed a sigh of relief and reclaimed the air she’d lost. She had no idea where she was in relationship to the battle. Her gauges were fried and the only thing she could see was mist. Lightning burst through the billowy clouds.

  Flying inside a storm frightened her more than anything. She knew what could be hiding inside.

  There!

  The shape again, but this time, instead of just the one, there were several as a breeze swept past, clearing the view. More Varga airships, nearly twenty.

  “Captain, this is an ambush. I repeat. This is an ambush.”

  “Where are you?” Bennen demanded.

  As she continued to climb, the sails of the newly discovered Varga airships dropped, the harnesses relaxing on their air jellies. This was so not good.

  “In the storm.”

  “What’s your heading?”

  “If I had that, don’t you think I’d have given it?” she snapped. The Varga fleet rose with greater speed than her little plane.

  “Get out of there.”

  “Gee. Is that what I should do, sir?” she growled, willing the Gypsy to go faster.

  The cannons on the airships pushed through the gunports. There was no way to get above them. Against her better judgment, she dove again, heading deeper into the storm. Balls of lightning crackled all around her, but at least she couldn’t see any of the Varga ships anymore.

  A shadow that was more light than dark flickered through the clouds, the mist swirling, showing the path of flight. Fear flooded through her along with a sudden realization. Massive, featureless creatures were all around her, white shadows on a wispy backdrop.

  “Sir!”

  “Where are you?” Bennen demanded.

  “Sky cats, sir!” She could barely breathe as she pushed the Gypsy to her limits. She needed altitude. She needed to get out of this storm.

  The battle was too close. The sky cats would attack. Rose’s depleted squadron couldn’t afford to fight two fronts.

  She throttled down, dropping even deeper into the storm. The engine roared to life as she pushed the lever to its max, the webbed wings fluttering with all their might as she made a wide sweep, climbing as quickly as she could.

  It felt like it was taking forever. Had she really dropped that far, or had the storm built up that much? She couldn’t tell. The clouds crackled around her, but from what? Lightning? S
ky cats? The Varga? Maybe this time, Queen Nix had been justified in attacking.

  Bright blue sunlight stabbed her in the eye as she burst free of the storm. She sighed with relief.

  A moment later, she spotted lightning cannons already trained on her, even before she’d cleared the cloudbank. Could they see through the clouds? Was that a part of their magicks? Or did they have a technology that could track her position, something better than the Hands’ radar?

  It didn’t matter. She maintained her course and shot for the sun.

  The rest of the company had entered the battle, as had a few more of the Varga airships. However, the enemy was targeting the planes, not shooting at them. They protected their air jellies with handheld lightning pistols which weren’t nearly as effective in an air fight.

  Where was the rest of the Varga Fleet?

  There was more to this attack than met the eye.

  “Leftenant, I need you to take out more of these air jellies.”

  Rose ignored him and headed away from the fight, toward the refueling station.

  “Leftenant, what are you doing?” the captain shouted.

  “It would appear she’s retreating, sir,” Conner said. “Sky freeze it! Why won’t they just die?”

  “Cause you’re an awful shot, Con?” suggested Airman Wren with a laugh.

  “Shut up.”

  “Concentrate,” Bennen ordered. “Rose. What are you doing?”

  “Checking something out, sir. I’ve a hunch.”

  “A hunch? About what?”

  “The Varga Fleet is huge, sir. I want to know where the rest of them are.”

  There was a long pause before the captain replied. “You think the refueling station is being attacked.”

  That was one thought. “Possibly.”

  “Check it out and get back to me.”

  “Will do, sir. Watch your backs for the sky cats.”

  Silence was her answer.

  The other pilots bickered back and forth, clogging the airways with trash talk as they fought to remain alive and flying.

  Rose crested a massive storm wall, its edges sweeping up, the cloud face smooth with the force of the current. Gritting her teeth, she pointed the Gypsy’s nose into it and climbed. The wind carried her up and over with more force than the Gypsy could have managed on her own.

  Fire filled the sky.

  The rest of the Varga ships were here, their cannons shooting out something that looked remarkably like lava. She’d never heard of a lava cannon before. The massive black deck of the refueling station was coated with flame, the glass control dome splintered. Watching the entire affair was Queen Nix in her black queen’s ship, her black flag with the ruby spider flapping in the wild winds.

  With metal groaning, the station broke, splitting in two, the many levels of living quarters and mechanical equipment bared for all to see. As it fell, other segments broke away, puncturing long trails of gray through the storm. Lightning reached out, tagging the metal hull.

  Rose circled around. She couldn’t hide. She was too high above the clouds. What could she do? What was Queen Nix’s plan in all of this?

  “Leftenant Rose Primus,” the queen’s velvet voice said over the mic.

  Rose’s heart beat wildly. She watched the lava cannons of the twenty or so Varga ships disappear and the gunports close. “Yes?”

  “We will gather with the rest of the company and rendezvous on Asim Station.”

  Rose frowned. Asim Station was a Family station. It hadn’t belonged to the Hands since Synn El’Asim had taken possession of it to bring down Sky City.

  “Do you understand me, Leftenant?”

  “But we have no heading.”

  Queen Nix let out a dry chuckle. “They will contact you with it.”

  Rose turned her plane back to the battle, riding the current with less speed. Her mind worked all the details, trying to figure out what had happened. Why would the queen stand by and watch as one of the Great Families attacked the station? Didn’t the Varga realize that by doing so, they’d just made themselves enemy number one of the Hands? Didn’t the queen understand that by allying herself with the Varga that she’d just made herself a tar—

  The questions in her mind stopped as dread swept through her.

  No one else knew of Nix’s treachery. If it hadn’t been for Rose following her gut and disobeying orders, the queen’s treasonous act would never be known.

  But what of the rest of the station’s crew? Rose hadn’t seen a single person left on it as it fell from the sky. Had Nix authorized the attack on an empty station?

  It made sense in a sick kind of way, but to what end? Captain Bennen had called for reinforcements. Normally, that would have meant sending out another squad, not the entire company.

  What was the queen up to? What was she planning to do with them once they got to Asim Station?

  She closed her eyes as she dipped into the cloud valley of the battle. The Varga dropped sail and dipped into the storm, their gunports closed.

  “Rose,” Bennen said. “We have new orders.”

  “So I’ve heard, sir.”

  She followed the company of planes, all of different makes, models and design. They flew to the edge of the large cloud bank and dove.

  Below lay Asim Station. The station the Varga destroyed had fallen on this one. Huge chunks of steaming metal littered the deck. The housing dome was dented where it had taken damage. Was it possible that the reason for destroying the other station wasn’t to attack the Hands, but the Asim?

  A voice came over the mic. “Company Ace of Swords, this is Asim Tower. You are cleared to land. Wind is north, northwest by eight kilometres. Find a spot and make it your own.”

  “You heard the man,” Bennen said. “After we land, leftenants and captains are with me. Queen Nix has requested our presence. The rest of you lot, stay in your birds until instructed otherwise.”

  Rose fought to control her thudding heart as what remained of their squadron landed. The last time she’d disobeyed Nix, the queen had nearly had her executed. This time was so much worse. She was a witness to the queen’s betrayal. Rose doubted she’d be so lucky this time.

  The queen’s ship sat on the far end of the long, black deck. It was oblong and almost entirely enclosed in glass, except for the bottom, which was made of the same black metal as the station. A wide deck surrounded the bubble of glass. It looked like a mix between an airship and a refueling station.

  Queen Nix stood at the base of the ramp to her ship, her knight standing beside her. He looked worse for wear, scarred and stooped. His top hat barely cleared her crown. The intricate gold metal sitting atop Queen Nix’s dark head was a working masterpiece of gears and art. Three carved spitfyre falcons rotated above her head.

  She was intimidating and gorgeous; tall and clothed in a black dress that accentuated all of her sensual allure. She was the type of woman that made men stupid.

  Rose followed Captain Bennen and the other captains and leftenants, trying hard not to draw extra attention to herself.

  Queen Nix eyed the approaching crowd and raised her hand. A diamond encrusted claw covered one finger, twinkling in the light. “Captains and leftenants of the House of Swords, welcome to Asim Station.”

  The group halted before the queen and quieted, stopping their fidgeting and whispering to give the queen their undivided attention. The queen remained silent for a few moments longer than was necessary. Finally, she spoke.

  “Your refueling station is no longer in service. The Varga Family has been thorough. And, as you well know, with the fall of Sky City, the Hands’ resources are stretched thin.”

  Rose frowned, listening intently. Why would the Hands’ queen admit to such weakness?

  “The El’Asim,” said the queen, while gesturing to the man who stood off the side of the group, “has graciously agreed to take you on. You no longer bear the mark of your house. You are now a part of the Great Families and as such, may regain your original
names.”

  Rose’s mouth fell open and hers wasn’t the only one. Most of her fellow pilots were captives of the Hands, their families destroyed, their children taken to be raised by the Hands. She’d lived almost her entire life in servitude to these tyrants and now, through Queen Nix’s own doing, they were being awarded their freedom?

  “What about our sisters and brothers?” Conner asked.

  Queen Nix tipped her head, the ruby spider on her chest gleaming in what little sunlight was still peeking through the darkening skies. “They are to remain in Sky City.”

  Conner and several others all began speaking at once, their voices rising in an indecipherable cacophony of protests.

  Queen Nix raised her hands. Her dark, heavily kohled eyes hardened. “I refuse to free all the citizens, all of my soldiers, pilots, scientists and engineers. I refuse. If you would like to throw away your newfound freedom, let me know now, and I will take it back along with your life.”

  The crowd quieted in an instant.

  Her gaze danced about the gathered pilots. “No one wishes to be the object of our lesson?”

  Glances were exchanged, but no one spoke.

  “Good. You are to report to Synn El’Asim immediately. Captain Bennen Domitius?”

  “Yes, Queen Nix.” He took a step forward.

  “I am promoting you to Lieutenant Colonel, commander of this company.”

  He frowned and bowed. “Thank you, Queen Nix.”

  “Leftenant Rose Primus?”

  Rose’s heart pounded even harder as she pushed through the crowd and stood directly in front of the queen. “Here.”

  Queen Nix watched Rose carefully as she spoke. “You are his new captain.”

  Rose didn’t know what to say to that. Why wasn’t the queen executing her in front of her peers for failing to follow orders, or for retreating during battle, or whatever charge Nix could drum up to cover up what they both knew? “Yes, ma’am?” She hadn’t meant for her response to come out as a question, but it had.

  “You are all excused,” said the queen. “Captain Rose, you stay. I would have a word.”

  Bennen also lingered as all the men and women wandered toward their planes. The queen waved him off.