Page 66 of Stalk the Sky

The troll communications officer occasionally spoke into the phone, relaying the information to the main communications room several rooms below.

Too bad they didn’t get any information sent back to them in return. At least in the Battle over Bridgetown, Pip could see what was happening. Now, even if she stood on the cliffs, the battle was happening so far away that it was nothing but the faint sounds of explosions and flashes of orange, when the fog lifted enough to even see that far.

At least she knew her flyboys were still alive. She could hear their voices on the radio, shouting and cursing and warning each other. Over them all, Fieran gave orders with a ring of confidence, even in what must be utter chaos.

Why did the sound of his voice have to hurt so much? It wasn’t like they’d broken up. It wasn’t even as if he’d told her he wasn’t attracted to her. He liked her too.

He’d just told her not yet, for reasons that were completely valid. They needed to put their duties first and any and all relationships second.

An even louder explosion echoed into the hangar, popping against their ears.

“What was that?” One of the mechanics rubbed at his ears. Another raced toward the hangar mouth, peering out.

As he listened to something on the telephone, the troll communications officer washed an even paler gray. After several minutes, he turned toward them. “The KS Valorous just exploded.”

“What?” One of the troll mechanics pressed a hand to the rock wall as his face turned the same pallor as the communications officer.

Pip braced herself against one of the mechanics’ carts. How was that possible? Wasn’t the KS Valorous one of the dwarf-built ships? How could it explode?

A sharp bang echoed through the hangar. One of the troll mechanics grunted, then collapsed in a pool of red.

“Attack!”

The next thing Pip knew, one of the Escarlish mechanics shoved her to the ground, even as more shots rang out.

Her mind reeled, her body frozen. She couldn’t process what was happening.

More shouting. Another body falling. The troll communications officer crouched only a few feet away, shouting into the telephone about an attack.

Her ears ringing, her brain screeching, Pip called up her magic and blasted out a shield, holding it.

Bullets ricocheted off her barrier, and someone on the far side cried out.

The mechanic who had pushed her to the ground cautiously crouched before he reached a hand to her. “Sorry about knocking you over.”

“You probably saved my life.” Pip grabbed the largest wrench off the mechanics’ cart. It made a paltry weapon against guns, but she felt safer with something that could be used as a weapon in her hand.

Baragh knelt by the injured troll, putting pressure on the wound. One of the elven mechanics was also down, but he was alert enough that he was putting pressure on his wound with his hand and a wad of rags he must have grabbed from one of the nearby mechanics’ carts. Hopefully Queen Melantha wouldn’t mind cleaning grease from a wound.

Past her shield, Mongavarian soldiers—dressed in brown uniforms with blue bands on their arms—streamed into the stairwell. Others stayed in the hangar, shooting up or wrecking whatever they could.

The troll communications officer shouted into the phone. He seemed to have the presence of mind to at least count the number of enemy soldiers passing them. He waited for a moment before he glanced over his shoulder at them. “There’s been another attack down below too.”

“The Mongavarians must have landed a ship on the north end of the island under the cover of the storm and hiked overland.” Baragh gripped his injured mechanic, a grim set to his mouth. For some reason, he was looking at Pip, as if asking her what to do now.

Why would she give orders? Sure, she was the one holding the shield, but it wasn’t like she had any more military experience than the others around her. They were all just mechanics, not trained warriors, unless the elf or troll mechanics had a few skills she didn’t know about.

If the few troll warriors stationed on the base for security were busy trying to fend off an attack at the docks, how many had been left to protect the commanders and other civilians, like Queen Melantha and the elven healers? Even if those civilians were protected, there wouldn’t be any help arriving for Pip and the others.

A second concussive boom tore through the air. Another ship exploding? Alliance or Mongavarian?

The voices on the radio blended together, speaking over each other in a chaos that was nearly impossible to decipher.

What were they supposed to do now? Pip’s shield kept her and the others safe, and they could just sit here, waiting out the attack. But the two injured mechanics needed medical attention.

Besides, she couldn’t just do nothing while those Mongavarian soldiers destroyed their spare aeroplane parts. Fieran and the flyboys would need those.

Pip stood to her full five feet of height, gripping the wrench. “All right, men. We can’t just sit by and watch them trash the place. One of you needs to stay here with the radio and the injured. The rest of us are going to throw these Mongavarians out of our aerodrome.”

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