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    Of Airships...

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    Alethearia
    Jaynestown resident

    Fleet Rank : Captain
    Serenity Starfighter Corps : FSC Flight Commander
    Number of posts : 2149
    Location : STILL in a giant metal robot bent on DESTROYING the world! sigh
    Ship Name : USS Valiance
    USS Windsong
    Ship Registry Number : NCC-74109
    ....
    Ship Class : Intrepid
    Stormcrow
    Fleet Division : Starfighter Corps (The Fireflys)

    Main RP Character Profile
    Name: Angelina Eli

    Of Airships...

    Post by Alethearia on Fri May 04, 2012 1:24 pm

    This is a piece I've been working on for a while. Hope you guys like it.

    14th October 1972
    Did I Mention I Hate Bremerhaven?


    My life has been one boring bout of waiting after the next. Waiting for supper, waiting for permission to use the loo (not a pleasant experience), waiting for the day to come that I could be free of that monotonous hell they bothered to call an academy. The only reason I endured those three years of doldrums was to get a proper piloting license and the permits for international work. I was raised in the sky, you see? Taught all the necessities about aeronautics, chart reading, engineering and the like, by my father, Holden, and step-mother, Kayl. (Not that I ever called her that––step-mother, I mean––she was always just Mum to me.)

    I'm sorry. I've been so addled lately that I suppose I completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm Krys. Well, Krylsorta Milse, actually, but don't ask me why my mum named me Krylsorta. I honestly have no idea where it came from. Dad said it had something to do with an ancient Egyptian name. But, my honest guess is that she was as high as a kite when she gave birth to me, tried to name me Krystal but it came out Krylsorta. Dad doesn't like me talking ill of my mum that way. He's never really seen a woman give birth before. He even had to leave the room when my two littlest siblings were born. (Blood makes him sick.) I was there though, and I know from visual experience, birthing takes a lot out of you. And, even though I normally don't get along with my father's latest wife, that was one of the few days that Regina and I actually got along and it was in part to her being totally drained after birthing twins.

    That was another time of waiting. Do you know how long it takes to give birth to twins? Well, I can tell you, it can take quite a while. Nearly two days in fact.

    I suppose I owe you an explanation about that as well. Mum, my first mum, was a beautiful woman with flowing red hair, sparkling blue eyes and a smile that could make sunshine jealous. My dad says she was the most beautiful woman in the world. I tend to believe him, especially seeing as how he also says that I look just like her. (Which is strange, seeing as how the appearance of Regina is nothing like my mother. I've often wondered why that is.) She died when I was a very small child, my mum. Came down with some fever... and then it wasn't a fever. All I know is that one day I was holding her hand and the next they were putting her in the ground. I try not to think about it.

    Kayl came next, but not right away. About two years after Mum died, Dad took up a job as Senior Engineer aboard this big junky zeppelin called Teal Morning. Kayl Torrent was the captain. All fire and Scottish spirit, Kayl had flaming red hair, livid blue eyes and a smile that would make sunshine jealous. It's no wonder my father fell for her.

    They married quicker than you can spit. The marriage ended just a quickly. Four years, actually. I still called her “Mum,” though. Even after Dad remarried, I called her “Mum.”

    And then Regina. Lovely, talented, perfect, blonde Regina. I don't know what my father sees in her, but he must see something because she make him happy and they've been together for the last four years with no talk of divorce. I keep my fingers crossed for them, even if Regina doesn't like me.
    Now, when I say she doesn't like me, what I really mean to say is that she loathes the very thought of me and wishes that her own daughter, Amelia, were oldest instead of me. Funny thing about that is that Lia and I are the best of friends. You'll probably hear more about her later.

    Anyway, Regina brought with her two daughters and three sons. Add in there the twins and that makes me the unwanted eldest of eight. Let me tell you, I wasn't the only one singing praises and celebrating from the highest mountaintops when I shipped off to the academy at thirteen.

    I waited with anticipation for my acceptance letter to come in. When Regina finally handed it to me I was ecstatic. I suppose that's when the mountaintop rejoicing started. Lia was bobbing over my shoulder insisting that I read it aloud. I didn't. Who wants to read something like that aloud?
    All I actually managed to say was, “I got in.”

    When Regina demanded, “How?”

    I came back with, “Kayl wrote me a recommendation letter.” She always told me that she would. The dean of the school one of her old shipmates. I just didn't expect to that to be enough to get me in. The Academy of Aeronautics on the Transatlantic Island was one of the most prestigious sky schools in the British Empire, but she got me in.

    Without that letter I wouldn't have stood half the chance I did of getting in. Without Kayl, I wouldn't be a pilot on WindSong, one of the most beautifully junkers I've ever seen, and I for sure wouldn't have been waiting in that stinking town for nearly two weeks longer than scheduled. And yes. I wouldn't know Jel'Dhen either.

    I know, another weird name. First time I saw it written was when I signed the contract to be his pilot on the crap hole little ship he bought on his pittance of a salary––WindSong. I thought it looked like “jelled hair”. Truth be told, it's Jeldan and don't let anyone tell you differently.
    Jel'Dhen, however, was the plonker that left me stranded in Bremerhaven, Germany in the middle of October with a bunch of poxy sky-stranded pilots that could lift off in the cold seasons better if they were trained monkeys. Which left me, a somewhat attractive red-headed seventeen-year-old with the pilot skills to scrap with even the best of them, to fend off wandering hands that belonged to crewmen so manky I'd swear they hadn't seen a decent shower in months, despite being grounded since the beginning of Fall.

    Fall is usually a difficult time of year for freighters. Most freighters pipe adelaide through every spare inch of the hull they can which, as we all know, defies the laws of physics and buoyancy in such a way as to make the great Archimedes want to drown himself in his own bathtub. That's all fine and dandy when one is trying to make an enormous wooden sailing ship that should never be seen in the sky soar like some hydrogen-filled whale, but, when it came to the cold, adelaide looses many of its perks.

    You probably know this already, but adelaide gets very very cold when you pass electricity through it. And electricity must be passed through it to return it to liquid state and use it as a fuel source. But when you recharge your engine the adelaide most ships pipe through their absurdly huge hulls gets a little nippy. We're talking ice age cold. The entire hull freezes over if you aren't in a warm environment. On a nice sunny summer day recharging adelaide works as a rather inexpensive cooling system, but as soon as the temperature drops, so do the airships. In the cold seasons adelaide was every captain's downfall. Well, every captain's except mine.

    My captain had picked well. At my advice, he had selected a classic vessel, running on pretty much the same physics that airships had run on for centuries, lift and thrust. Granted, we had an adelaide-fueled engine, but finding a warm port of harbor to recharge the thing was easy enough when you were small enough to fit inside a hangar.

    So, as I looked out over my steaming cup of tea at the quaint Tudor-filled skyline on that particular day it didn't surprise me that the only ship I could see was a familiar silver envelope. I watched from my seat at the top of one of Bremerhaven's tall red towers as the little metallic ship passed through the city's perimeter of docking pylons and cargo cranes to the south. It rode on the air like a lost balloon, drifting through the sky nearly void of tall buildings––except that this particular sack of hydrogen was far more determined in course than any child's toy.

    I could always tell when Jel'Dhen was at the helm, as the ship tended to fly in straight lines. Flying in such a mathematical movements didn't sit right with me. A ship was supposed to move with more grace and sway. I suppose that's why I was the pilot and he wasn't. I only hoped that he hadn't forgotten that little detail.

    I took another sip of tea and set it on the saucer. My waiting had finally come to an end. Every evening for the last two and a half weeks I had waited at that particular coffee shop at the top of that particular building to wait ever so patiently for my daft git of a captain to remember to pick me up. Alright, so he was only a git for two weeks. The other half a week I was biding my time hoping he'd rush his job and get back early so I didn't have to feel so bad about getting my half done early. No such luck.


    __________________________________________________________


    Ero found herself mourning the passing of the sandwich more than she did the smashing of the chain-linked fence via a giant ancient aircraft, much to the dismay of the chain-linked fence. And, where the fence able to convey it's sorrow over not being mourned, perhaps Ero might have mourned the fence as well...but seeing as how the fence couldn't talk, and she was too busy trying not to be run over and turned into a green and purple mess (much like her bemourned sandwich), Ero found herself quite content not mourning the destruction of the government's once pristine chain-linked fence.

    Alethearia
    Jaynestown resident

    Fleet Rank : Captain
    Serenity Starfighter Corps : FSC Flight Commander
    Number of posts : 2149
    Location : STILL in a giant metal robot bent on DESTROYING the world! sigh
    Ship Name : USS Valiance
    USS Windsong
    Ship Registry Number : NCC-74109
    ....
    Ship Class : Intrepid
    Stormcrow
    Fleet Division : Starfighter Corps (The Fireflys)

    Main RP Character Profile
    Name: Angelina Eli

    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by Alethearia on Fri May 04, 2012 1:25 pm

    I sighed heavily and, in the time honored tradition of my people, sipped on my tea. Again. It was getting cold, the tea, and I was about to order another when the zeppelin I'd been watching dropped out of view without so much of a suggestion as to its intent.

    “What's he up to?” I muttered.

    “What's that miss?” squeaked my pubescent server in halted English.

    I looked up to see the hesitant smile of the very young man. His shaking hands held a pencil and note pad, apparently intent on taking down another order. I had half a mind to tell him off for not wearing a jacket, but I didn't. It would have been silly of me, not having bothered to put on a jacket myself.

    “Nothing,” I said with a shake of my head. “My ride should be here shortly.”

    “I'll get your check then,” he stammered.

    “Please and thank you.”

    He was off again.

    My heart skipped a beat when a dark mass suddenly loomed over me, casting an ominous shadow over the top of the building. I looked up, studying the sleek silver form of the envelope. Well, not so silver up close. At this range one could see the multi-toned patchwork, the crooked riveting and the dents. And if you didn't think the envelope was pretty, wait till you saw the gondola. It looked like someone had taken a series of ill-constructed tin rooms, fastened them together with some iron planks, and slapped on some copper piping for good measure.

    Alright, so she wasn't all that bad. Actually, WindSong had some rather nice perks, not the least of which being the excellent yellow-tinted domes we had for windows all over the place. Another wonderful thing about the ship was that there was enough room for two quarters, a proper laundry room, and a ridiculously small kitchen. She was just our size. We even had a small cargo hold in the back, complete with showers, a brig and a few extra bunks in case of passengers.

    Looking over that hodgepodge of light-weight metal and girders, I felt like I was on the final stretch to home after a long flight. And it was home, the only one I'd had in years. Jel'Dhen, of course, was the owner of the thing, and at times like this he was not my favorite person in the world. Still, he had redeeming qualities. Like his ship, there was more to him then there seemed.
    The ship docked, lowering the loading door onto the roof. A tall young man with smiling green eyes and a childish bounce in his step strode down the platform, his arms swinging with a swagger.

    “Plonker,” I muttered. Mum would probably have my scrub my mouth if she heard me say a word like that. Then again, she taught me the word in the first place. Lot of good washing my mouth would do now anyway.

    I glanced to see if the server had returned. He hadn't. I couldn't even see him. Where had he gone off too? No matter. I slipped a bill far to large to pay for just the tea under the saucer before grabbing my bags and leaving the table. The boy would enjoy a large tip that day.

    With long intense strides I approached him, righteous fury written all over my face, just in case he hadn't expected me to be mad in the first place. No, that would be giving him too much credit. That would imply that Jel'Dhen thought in the first place. Jel'Dhen thinking, that would be the day.

    “Jel'Dhen Whitefall, you great git!”

    The look on Jel'Dhen's face said everything. “What?”

    “You know what I'm talking about. You're three full weeks late.”

    “Two.”

    “Bullocks, two and a half.”

    “Negotiating won't change that I'm only two weeks late.”

    I glowered at him. “Full well it doesn't. I have half a mind to drag you behind the ship and watch you flounder. Where have you been?”

    He gave me a sheepish grin. “Italia?”

    “What on this side of the deep did you need to go to Italy for?”

    “It's a surprise,” he said with a nod.

    All emotion drained from my face. I hated his surprises, they usually involved some kind of unexpected change to the ship that would undoubtedly mess with my guidance system.

    “What is it?” I deadpanned.

    Jel'Dhen smiled his usual cheerful smile and took the largest bag from my shoulder. “I'll show you once we get off,” he said, showing no sign of having noticed my anger.
    “Whatever,” I seethed and followed him aboard.


    __________________________________________________________


    Ero found herself mourning the passing of the sandwich more than she did the smashing of the chain-linked fence via a giant ancient aircraft, much to the dismay of the chain-linked fence. And, where the fence able to convey it's sorrow over not being mourned, perhaps Ero might have mourned the fence as well...but seeing as how the fence couldn't talk, and she was too busy trying not to be run over and turned into a green and purple mess (much like her bemourned sandwich), Ero found herself quite content not mourning the destruction of the government's once pristine chain-linked fence.

    Alethearia
    Jaynestown resident

    Fleet Rank : Captain
    Serenity Starfighter Corps : FSC Flight Commander
    Number of posts : 2149
    Location : STILL in a giant metal robot bent on DESTROYING the world! sigh
    Ship Name : USS Valiance
    USS Windsong
    Ship Registry Number : NCC-74109
    ....
    Ship Class : Intrepid
    Stormcrow
    Fleet Division : Starfighter Corps (The Fireflys)

    Main RP Character Profile
    Name: Angelina Eli

    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by Alethearia on Fri May 04, 2012 1:28 pm

    Chapter 2

    Ties that Bind

    Have you ever noticed that some people say “true” after a statement of fact? It's like their saying “true” will somehow make the statement more true and therefore validate their knowledge of the subject. I usually try to avoid people who speak like that. Jel'Dhen, however, is unavoidable.

    My first statement after Jel'Dhen explained his reasoning for leaving me stranded could easily have been an incredulous question, but it wasn't. Instead, it was an incredulous statement of fact, not unlike the aforementioned statements of fact after which people most people say “true.”

    “You left me in Bremerhaven for two extra weeks for a dagger.”

    “True.”

    Called it.

    “Mostly.”

    And, that was unexpected. “What do you mean mostly?”

    “Well...” He began to crank the loading door up, spinning dials and pulling levers. I noticed something was wrong when he pulled a lever unnecessarily hard, sending the door clanging down again forcing him to start the process all over again.

    “Well, what?” I demanded.

    “Well, you may or may not hate me when I tell you.” He leaned against the bulkhead of the cargo bay. A glance to the front of the ship told me he was hiding something.

    “Out with it!”

    The muscles around his neck tightened as he made a ridiculous face, the kind someone would make if they were trying to tell a nasty secret without being hurt in the process. Jel'Dhen always made this face before announcing what he thought was bad news. More often than not it wasn't bad news, but what determines “bad news” in Jel'Dhen's head is a subject for much debate between us.
    “I kind of got a call from this girl I used to know and she kind of wanted me to come pick her up.”

    “What?”

    “Please don't be mad at me.”

    Remember that righteous fury I had mentioned? “Oh, it's way past that point. You crossed the line. You stupid, stupid Canadian. We had a bargain. We're a team. No bringing members of the opposite sex aboard. You swore on your honor. I've kept up my end. I haven't brought a single sole onto this ship, not even friends! The only exception being that guy from North Ireland, whatever his name was, and he was a paying client and you were there! What are you giving me that look for?” And, he was giving me a look, the kind that says I'm being ridiculous. “I am not being ridiculous. We had an agreement!”

    “Krys,” he groaned.

    “No, I don't want to hear it. I've had it with you.” With that I stormed out of the cargo hold with my smaller bags. It did occur to me that leaving behind my large bag of clothes would mean that either I would have to go back and apologize or that Jel'Dhen would have to bring it to me and perpetuate the fight, but I didn't care.

    Sheer irritation carried me across the catwalk from the cargo hold to the main living area. Kicking open the door on the other side I stormed past Jel'Dhen's room, the kitchen, and the bathroom before he tried to stop me. With a deep breath I plowed on, ignoring him, past the open air compartment, and the mess of copper we called the engine room. I didn't even notice the small round face that watched me from the corner as I descended a short flight of stairs and turned a sharp left into my room. The door slammed behind me. I dropped my bags, and hastily unpacked.

    Had I bothered to survey my room I would have noticed an unknown pair of shoes, a random footlocker that hadn't been there before, and dirty clothes that weren't mine piled up in the enormous plexiglass dome I had instead of a back wall. I probably also would have noticed the bed that had been neatly made in my loft with a very familiar set of sheets. But I didn't survey my room and therefore didn't notice the oddities.

    I left the room with just as much haste as I when I'd entered, veered left into the bridge and stood in the middle of the tiny room without bothering to slide the door shut. It usually got stuck about half way out anyway. It took me a moment to realize that something was wrong. There were hand prints all over my domed plexiglass window. Normally, I kept it clean, making it easier for me to read whatever data popped up when I used it as a giant computer monitor. Something else was wrong. A dark brown RAF jacket, not Jel'Dhen's, was draped across the back of my severely dilapidated leather pilot chair. I recognized it, but I wasn't sure where from. That irked me some.

    Walking over to the chair, I picked up the jacket, examined it. A name patch was sloppily stitched onto the left breast pocket. It read: Halsforth. I knew it immediately.

    I mentioned that I had a step-sister, Lia. Her full name is Amelia Margret Halsforth. She's fifteen, has darker skin than me––well, everyone has darker skin than me, but hers more so––mischievous amber colored eyes and a great love of all things Jel'Dhen. Oh, and she has an acute fear of heights.

    “Lia?” I said in testy tones.

    My little sister's anxious form appeared in the doorway, bouncing slightly. She fidgeted with her fur-lined pilot cap, tugging at the straps.

    She bit her lip and stopped bouncing. “Hi, sis,” she said in the flat American accent she'd gotten from her mother.

    The look I gave her was as confused as it possibly could be, attempting to speak, but only managing to flap my mouth a bit. The gears were starting to turn, slowly but surely. Jel'Dhen had taken a passenger in Italy. Lia was the passenger.

    “Ta-dah,” she said with a sheepish grin and a shrug.

    I continued to stare, eyes narrowed, jaw working. Lia took this as disapproval. She was probably right. “What?” she scoffed. “Aren't you happy to see me?”

    At long last, I spoke. “What were you doing in Italy? You're fourteen. Aren't you supposed to be in school. It's the middle of October. What were you thinking?”

    Lia sighed, rolling her eyes. “You aren't my mom, Krys. And I can take care of myself.”

    “Oh?” I folded my arms and rocked back on my heals, taking the superior sister stance. “Is that why you had Jel'Dhen come rescue you?”

    She bit her lip again. “Well, I wouldn't say that he rescued me, but yeah. I had Jel pick me up.”
    I wasn't getting through to her. It was time to raise my tone. “What are you doing on my ship?”
    “You're ship?” She shot back, taking a few steps into the tiny room. “You honestly think this is your ship? Jel'Dhen payed for it with his own money. He maintains all the engines by himself. He invented the computer technology that keeps it flying. He's the one that does odd jobs to keep up with payments. You just fly the thing.”

    I was about to spew out venom when Jel'Dhen's head popped in the doorway. His look was serious when he caught my eye. He gave me a half smile. “Krys, can I have a word?”

    Rolling my eyes at this, I brushed past Lia and out the door. Jel'Dhen pulled out of the room, letting me move past him as well. Lia tried to follow me, but I pointed a finger at her, indicating that she was to stay put and that we would have words. Luckily, she knew what the gesture meant. Disgruntled, she folded her arms, turned around, and sat in my chair.

    I turned left at the foot of the stairs and entered the sitting-room-turned-laundry-room. Jel'Dhen's large frame stood in the door way, blocking me in. He folded his arms over his chest, leaned against the door frame and raised his eyebrows at me.

    “Are you done?” he asked in all seriousness.

    I didn't answer.

    He took this as a good sign. “She was on a student exchange when the family she was staying with got raided.”

    I looked up in shock. “Pirates?”

    Jel'Dhen nodded. “They sacked the town. It was on the coast. I don't know how, but your sister got out and made it to a nearby port where she spent the last of her savings to radio me a message. You know how expensive they can be. Luckily, I was in Rome picking up your present when I got the message.”


    __________________________________________________________


    Ero found herself mourning the passing of the sandwich more than she did the smashing of the chain-linked fence via a giant ancient aircraft, much to the dismay of the chain-linked fence. And, where the fence able to convey it's sorrow over not being mourned, perhaps Ero might have mourned the fence as well...but seeing as how the fence couldn't talk, and she was too busy trying not to be run over and turned into a green and purple mess (much like her bemourned sandwich), Ero found herself quite content not mourning the destruction of the government's once pristine chain-linked fence.

    Alethearia
    Jaynestown resident

    Fleet Rank : Captain
    Serenity Starfighter Corps : FSC Flight Commander
    Number of posts : 2149
    Location : STILL in a giant metal robot bent on DESTROYING the world! sigh
    Ship Name : USS Valiance
    USS Windsong
    Ship Registry Number : NCC-74109
    ....
    Ship Class : Intrepid
    Stormcrow
    Fleet Division : Starfighter Corps (The Fireflys)

    Main RP Character Profile
    Name: Angelina Eli

    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by Alethearia on Fri May 04, 2012 1:31 pm

    I nodded. It took us three months to save enough to get the antique radio that sat like a grumpy old man, bolted to a shelf in the engine room.

    I turned away. My sister was not supposed to get into trouble. That was my job. I was the reckless one. I didn't even know that she was on a student exchange. Some sister I was. I scanned the little room. My eyes fell on the ugly stuffed chintz chair in the corner. Lia had probably been sitting there when I'd stormed down the stairs in a huff. She was probably even excited to see me. Why did I have to have my mother's temper?

    “Was she alright?” I looked back to Jel'Dhen with all sincerity.

    He nodded. “A few bumps and bruises, but she's fine. She still won't talk about what happened, just that she didn't know what to do.”

    I nodded again, wiping my face of nonexistent tears. “Are we to take her home then?” I wasn't looking forward to a reunion with my father and Regina.

    “No, I radioed your parents. They said that she'll be fine with us. Well, your dad did actually. Regina didn't sound too happy.”

    I scoffed at this. “Yeah, she hates airships. Figures my dad would let her stay though. He always said that you can learn more in the air than sitting stuffed behind a desk.”

    Jel'Dhen laughed. It was good to hear him laugh. Of all the things I missed about him, his laugh was at the top of my list. “Too true. It also doesn't hurt that she somehow managed to bring a trunk of stuff, including her books. Who knows how she managed to drag that thing out of a raid town without being noticed.”

    I shook my head. “It's my sister. When it comes to her clothes, she'll find a way.” We both laughed at this.

    Lia appeared behind Jel'Dhen at that moment. I pointed her out and he moved out of the way. Her rounded face looked hopeful. I shot her a smile and waved her in.

    “Come here sis,” I said in a quiet tone.

    Relieved, she bounced into the room. “So,” she asked, after several long moments of a well-deserved hug. “Where are we going?”

    Surprised that I'd almost forgotten, I pried my sister off me and began my search of the various leather pockets I wore on a belt. Quickly enough, I found what I was looking for: a thin rolled up piece of plastic. I handed it to Jel'Dhen who took it with eagerness, studied it and scowled before holding out his hand.

    “Oh, right!” I withdrew what looked like a hair pin from my long braid of red hair and handed it to him as well.

    With the expert hand of the man who invented the darn things, Jel'Dhen slid the clip onto the piece of plastic and pressed the little blue gem at the end. Immediately the clear piece of plastic lit up, assuming the appearance of a sheet of paper. He thumbed over it a few times, scrolling through all the information.

    “Well, it looks like I need to clean out the brig. Oh, and clear out those smuggler’s holds? Joy.” He didn’t sound the least bit enthused. I doubted his reaction would get any better as he read on. It didn’t. His eyes widened and he looked up at me.

    I returned the look with a mischievous grin. “I bet she’s just dying to see you again.”

    “Yeah.” He blinked and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure she is.”

    “Sure who is?” Lia demanded.

    “You don't want to know,” Jel'Dhen said with a shake of his head.

    “I'm sure she does,” I said with a wicked smile.

    “Oh yeah,” Jel'Dhen said sarcastic. “They'll be two peas in a pod.”

    Lia was getting excitedly irritated at this point. “Who will?”

    “You and Velrietta,” I explained.

    “No, way. Are you serious? I get to meet Velrietta Constantine?”

    I nodded then corrected myself. “Well, maybe. If you're very good and do all your homework.”

    Lia squealed, hugged me again, and ducked out of the room and up the stairs yelling, “Oh my gosh, this is going to be so awesome!” I had no idea where she was going. Her fear of heights would normally have kept her out of the engine area, but she seemed nonplussed by the open-air compartment.

    “Where's she going?” I asked.

    “Oh, probably to the kitchen,” Jel'Dhen answered.

    “What? Why? Lia never cooks... unless she's making cookies. But we don't have the chocolate necessary to make no-bakes. Jel'Dhen, did you cave and get chocolate?”

    He shrugged. “I couldn't say.”

    “Alright, whatever. I'm going to get us under way. Would you go make sure that the engines are in proper condition before we go?”

    “Yeah, but where are we going,” he said, handing the paper-imitating piece of plastic back to me. “The assignment doesn't say.”

    I only smiled and brushed past him, heading back toward the bridge.

    “Krys?” He sounded testy. “Krys, where are we meeting Ve this time?”

    I still didn't say anything. Best he didn't know until we were already underway. Didn't want to risk him jumping ship.

    “Krys, as your captain, I order you to tell me.”

    “Oh, we're captain now, are we? You usually hate when I call you Captain.”

    “Knock it off, Krys. Where are you taking us?”

    “I'm not going to tell you,” I said as smugly as you please, taking a seat in my chair. I flicked on the screen of the C-shaped desk in front of me. The table top blinked to life in an array of pastel light and soft crackling sounds.

    “What did you do to my console?” I demanded.

    “I didn't do anything. Where are you taking us?”

    “Then what did Lia to do it? All the controls are wonky.”

    “I don't know. Why don't you ask her?”

    “No matter. I'll just use the big screen.”

    “Krys.”

    Ignoring him, I made my way around the desk, removed another pin from my hair, this one with a green gem, and slid it into a tiny slit along one side of the wall. Lights lining the bars of the great domed window flickered on, laying a map over the scenery below us. A tinny voice piped in from the overhead speakers.

    “Welcome back, Krys. Can I help you.” The familiar contempt in the artificial intelligence's voice brought a smile to my face.

    “It's good to be back, Celeste.” I looked once at Jel'Dhen before turning back to the map on the giant domed window. “Celeste?”

    “Yes?” her tinny voice said in a patronizingly sweet tone.

    “Plot a course for three seven point zero one eight by two six point nine six two.”

    “Right away. Would you like me to take us out?”

    Well, there weren't exactly enough ships in the sky for me to worry about the AI running into anything. I sighed. “Yes, please.” I turned to Jel'Dhen. His face was ghost white, his eyes intent on the map.

    “Uh-uh. No, Krys. I am not going back there again.”

    I nodded insistently.

    “No, I’m not. Not while he still lurks in those skies. You can’t make me.” He sounded rather final.
    “Yes, we are,” I insisted. “If you want to get paid we are.”

    “Not going where?” Lia's smiling face appeared in the door way, seemingly out of nowhere.

    “No where,” Jel'Dhen said, his voice low as he shoved past her out of the room.

    “What's his problem?” With a glance over her shoulder, Lia came further into the room.

    “Oh, he just doesn't want to get paid,” I said with a sigh.

    “That doesn't sound like him.”

    “Normally it isn't, but he seems to want to make an exception with this location.”

    “Why? Where are we going?”

    Celeste's tinny voice piped in at that moment. “Krys, plot laid in for Skydes.”

    “Good,” I muttered, drumming my finger on my chin. Then, standing up a little straighter I said, “Right, take us out then.”

    Without another word from the tinny voice, the ship smoothly edged forward and picked up speed.

    “Skydes?” Lia asked hesitantly.

    I sighed again. “Sky hell.”


    __________________________________________________________


    Ero found herself mourning the passing of the sandwich more than she did the smashing of the chain-linked fence via a giant ancient aircraft, much to the dismay of the chain-linked fence. And, where the fence able to convey it's sorrow over not being mourned, perhaps Ero might have mourned the fence as well...but seeing as how the fence couldn't talk, and she was too busy trying not to be run over and turned into a green and purple mess (much like her bemourned sandwich), Ero found herself quite content not mourning the destruction of the government's once pristine chain-linked fence.

    Reanna Aloi
    Dean of the Academy

    Fleet Rank : Captain
    Special Operations Rank : SPO Captain
    Number of posts : 3480
    Location : Somewhere in a home, in a city, in a country, somewhere on the planet...
    Ship Name : The Immortal
    Ship Registry Number : Special Registry: NCC 082270
    Ship Class : Defiant (modified refit)
    Fleet Division : Intel/Special Ops

    Main RP Character Profile
    Name:

    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by Reanna Aloi on Fri May 04, 2012 10:46 pm

    ((Somebody has been a busy little bee, haven't they? lol When I get some time, gonna have to read and from the bits and pieces I visually snatched on a quick look through, it appears interesting.))


    __________________________________________________________

    MallowOni
    Object in Space

    Fleet Rank : Cadet
    Number of posts : 150
    Fleet Division :

    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by MallowOni on Sat May 05, 2012 12:02 am

    You've written interesting characters, filled us in on all the details of the world without getting boring, and I'm more than curious to see what happens next. Great job. Smile

    Alethearia
    Jaynestown resident

    Fleet Rank : Captain
    Serenity Starfighter Corps : FSC Flight Commander
    Number of posts : 2149
    Location : STILL in a giant metal robot bent on DESTROYING the world! sigh
    Ship Name : USS Valiance
    USS Windsong
    Ship Registry Number : NCC-74109
    ....
    Ship Class : Intrepid
    Stormcrow
    Fleet Division : Starfighter Corps (The Fireflys)

    Main RP Character Profile
    Name: Angelina Eli

    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by Alethearia on Sat May 05, 2012 4:41 pm

    Yay! That was kinda my goal. My first write through, needless to say, sucked... well, didn't suck, but it was not exactly believable. Glad you liked it. Wink Just finished chapter 3, but I don't want to overwhelm.


    __________________________________________________________


    Ero found herself mourning the passing of the sandwich more than she did the smashing of the chain-linked fence via a giant ancient aircraft, much to the dismay of the chain-linked fence. And, where the fence able to convey it's sorrow over not being mourned, perhaps Ero might have mourned the fence as well...but seeing as how the fence couldn't talk, and she was too busy trying not to be run over and turned into a green and purple mess (much like her bemourned sandwich), Ero found herself quite content not mourning the destruction of the government's once pristine chain-linked fence.

    Alethearia
    Jaynestown resident

    Fleet Rank : Captain
    Serenity Starfighter Corps : FSC Flight Commander
    Number of posts : 2149
    Location : STILL in a giant metal robot bent on DESTROYING the world! sigh
    Ship Name : USS Valiance
    USS Windsong
    Ship Registry Number : NCC-74109
    ....
    Ship Class : Intrepid
    Stormcrow
    Fleet Division : Starfighter Corps (The Fireflys)

    Main RP Character Profile
    Name: Angelina Eli

    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by Alethearia on Tue Jun 19, 2012 12:12 pm

    http://ofairships.blogspot.com/

    Here is my dedicated blog for this story.


    __________________________________________________________


    Ero found herself mourning the passing of the sandwich more than she did the smashing of the chain-linked fence via a giant ancient aircraft, much to the dismay of the chain-linked fence. And, where the fence able to convey it's sorrow over not being mourned, perhaps Ero might have mourned the fence as well...but seeing as how the fence couldn't talk, and she was too busy trying not to be run over and turned into a green and purple mess (much like her bemourned sandwich), Ero found herself quite content not mourning the destruction of the government's once pristine chain-linked fence.

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    Re: Of Airships...

    Post by Sponsored content Today at 10:43 am


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