Page 77 of Stalk the Sky

Chapter

Twenty-Two

As Fieran’s aeroplane clawed its way back into the sky in Merrik’s wake, the radio crackled again.

“Lt. Laesornysh.” Commander Druindar’s voice rang clear despite the static. “I saw what you and Lt. Loiatir did. That was quite the feat of flying.”

“Yes, sir.” Fieran couldn’t think of anything else to say. That wasn’t overconfidence. It had been quite the feat on both his and Merrik’s part. “Your orders?”

There was a pause, as if Commander Druindar sighed but the sound didn’t carry over the radio. “The surface warships took quite the beating during the battle. Battlegroup Hammer got the worst of it. The Mongavarian fleet didn’t follow Battlegroup Anvil into the ice floes as far as expected, and when Battlegroup Hammer came out of hiding, the Mongavarian flank had the room to turn and face them.”

This wasn’t exactly orders, but Fieran appreciated the summary of what had happened with the surface fleet. He hadn’t been able to keep track of that battle, busy as he had been in the air. By the time he’d taken out the enemy aeroplanes and airships, the battle on the sea had already been over. He’d never had a chance to dive down and help the warships as planned.

As he spoke with Commander Druindar, Fieran eased his aeroplane in a circle over Dar Goranth, getting a better look at the fires and bombing craters. The wreckage of a Mongavarian airship lay on the point, burning.

Commander Druindar’s tone turned even more grim. “We lost at least fourteen ships, including one of the battleships. The elven airships have been tasked with aiding the surface fleet in recovering the dead and wounded, but it will be a long process. The surface ships fought a running battle as the Mongavarian fleet disengaged, and the dead and wounded could be scattered over miles of ocean.”

Fourteen ships. That struck like a punch. That number was far too high, considering their confidence in the dwarven-built ships. Granted, not all of the ships were dwarven-made. But surely that battleship had been.

What had gone wrong? Even with the surprise attack not working as planned, Fieran had heard those massive explosions. What had caused the Alliance ships to implode like that?

Fieran had to clear his throat twice before he managed, “Which ships?”

“These are just the ones we know at the moment.” Commander Druindar listed off the ships, hesitating before the last two. “ES Warren and KS Vanguard were last seen chasing the fleeing Mongavarian fleet. We lost contact with them twenty minutes ago. They are presumed lost as well.”

The Vanguard. Rokyd’s and Lucien’s ship.

Did Sathrah know yet? Fieran had glimpsed the Dominion still afloat in the sky after the battle, though the outer dirigible had a few tears and the gondola had taken a pounding. Was Sathrah still alive? Just because her airship was still alive didn’t mean she was.

“I’d like your squadron to aid the airships in finding any survivors.” Commander Druindar’s voice deepened. “Your aeroplanes will cover more ocean more quickly than the airships. Keep a watch in case the Mongavarians return while we’re distracted.”

This would be the time to attack while Dar Goranth was still shaking off the last attack.

Hopefully the Mongavarians had been too badly beaten to return. While it seemed the surface fleet hadn’t been as damaged as hoped, they had lost a large chunk of their airborne fleet. If they returned, Fieran would wipe out the rest of it.

And once he did, their surface fleet would be in trouble. Surely that would be enough of a deterrent that they wouldn’t return anytime soon.

“Understood, sir.” Fieran peeled his aeroplane away to head back over the debris-scattered ocean. Merrik kept his station guarding Fieran’s six even now. He’d pulled the vines back—they would be quite the wind resistance—but his aeroplane still glowed green.

“And Laesornysh?” Commander Druindar’s tone left no room for argument. “Set up a rotation so you and your pilots can rest. That includes you. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.” Fieran bit back his sigh. It would be tempting to push himself, trying to find his cousins.

But they were all in for a day. They would need food and rest. Not to mention their aeroplanes would need new magical power cells eventually.

Though, Commander Druindar had never given any orders regarding when Fieran landed for rest. If he put himself last in the rotation, well, he was currently the commanding officer of the squadron. That was his prerogative.

Pip groaned at the hand shaking her awake. She blinked wearily up at the person, finding Tiny’s face only a foot above hers where she lay on a cot someone had dragged up from one of the rooms and placed in one corner of the hangar.

Tiny straightened and tilted his head. “Fieran’s back.”

That got her to her feet. She stretched, scrubbing at her eyes to wake up, before she looked around.

It was sometime in the middle of the night. She’d been busy all day and into the night, fixing damaged aeroplanes as they came in, before she’d finally curled up on the cot. She must have only gotten a handful of hours of sleep.

At the mouth of the hangar, Fieran and Merrik wearily trudged inside. They paused to briefly talk to Lije, Pretty Face, and Murray, who were on their way outside to take off for another shift in the sky. Tiny hurried to join them, tugging on his flight cap as he went.

To one side, Sontar was manning a coffee, tea, donut, and medical care station. He’d proved invaluable here in the hangar, seeing to it that all the incoming flyboys were given a coffee and donut upon landing. He’d also assessed all their injuries, binding up the minor wounds and sending the others to sick bay.

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