by Lucas Marcum
Durok yelled again. He slapped Jones with an armored hand and roared in the guttural language of the orcs. One of the orcs guarding the ramp pointed at the smoke and yelled. Acevedo broke into a run, heading straight for the ramp, followed by the stretcher and the men carrying it.
Up on the top deck, an elf in a high-collared tunic leaned over, yelled down to the guards, and pointed. Durok paused, turned, and looked behind them. A ball of fire rose over the rooftops as something exploded. The big orc turned and ran, cursing in orcish at the slower humans carrying the burden of the stretcher. Acevedo blew past the orc guards and charged up the ramp without slowing. As she did, she noticed the wings stretching. Getting inside, she immediately moved away from the door and collapsed on the floor, faking her injuries, as Durok had instructed her to. Martinez and Jones, closely followed by O’Malley, appeared in the door. They set the stretcher down and collapsed, gasping for breath.
From outside the ship, there was more shouting in orcish, then another roar of an extremely angry dragon. There was a dual twang as the orcs fired their crossbows at something, then a sharp ratcheting sound as they reloaded. Durok barreled through the hatch and roared up the small set of stairs to the elf on deck. The first orc guard barreled through the door, then reached back out and grabbed the hand of the second as the ship lifted. The second orc lost his footing and scrabbled on the ramp, trying not to fall.
There was another furious roar from right below them as the vessel banked and struggled to gain altitude. The orc’s feet flew out straight, and the first orc struggled mightily to keep him from falling out of the ship as it lifted. Durok reached back, and with one massive arm, grabbed the orc in the door by the rear of his armor and gave him a mighty heave, propelling both orcs into the hull of the ship with a single motion, and depositing them into an undignified heap. There was a momentary blast of heat from the open door, and the terrifyingly familiar roar of dragon flame, but the boat had lifted too high for the dragon’s flame to reach. Durok reached over, slammed the hatch shut, and pulled a lever next to the door.
One of the orc soldiers sat up, spat blood onto the deck, and muttered something in Orcish that could only be a curse word. Durok laughed in his booming voice, reached out, and hauled the orc to his feet. He said something to the orc, who laughed, turned, and helped the second orc to his feet. The second orc nodded, turned to the prisoners, and eyed them for a moment, then shrugged. He said something to Durok, who nodded. All three orcs climbed the ladder to the top deck, where the pilot stood.
“Fuck, that was close,” Jones muttered in a low voice.
“No shit,” O’Malley replied, also in a low tone. “Way too goddamn close.”
“Whatever Ewart did to that dragon, he pissed it the fuck off,” Jones replied.
“No kidding.” O’Malley paused, listening to the conversation in Orcish and Elvish from the deck above for a moment, then added, “I guess it’s up to the big guy for now. We just sit tight.”
“Yeah,” Jones replied. He looked down at the still unconscious elf. “What do we do if she wakes up?”
“Hit her again,” O’Malley replied. “Anything to keep her quiet until we get aboard the dragonship, then I don’t give a shit.” He leaned back against the wall for a moment, listening to the wind rushing by outside the craft, and looked around. There were various bits of equipment stowed tidily, and the inside of the ship was clean. The portholes in the hull let in a decent amount of light. After a moment, he said, “It’s a lot nicer than a Blackhawk.”
With a tired laugh, Jones replied, “Yeah.” After a moment, he yawned and said, “Still makes me sleepy, though.”
“So sleep. I’ll keep an eye out. Martinez, Acevedo, you two close your eyes, too. Who knows how long we’ll be on this thing,” O’Malley replied. Acevedo didn’t reply, only rolled over to face the wall. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
-10-
“Assault on the Silverwing”
Somewhere over Central Pennsylvania
Seeing a shape in the hatch leading to the top deck, O’Malley looked up. Durok’s massive frame came down the stairs, his armored boots making solid thumps on the polished wood. He moved to the bench across from where O’Malley and Jones sat and unrolled a blank piece of paper. Reaching into his pouch, he sketched on the paper for a moment, then reached over and tapped Acevedo, who rolled over and sat up, no longer pretending to be wounded. Durok spoke in orcish.
Listening for a moment, Acevedo translated, “He’s going to give us an overview of the Silverwing.” Durok turned the scroll around. On it was a crude drawing of the side profile of what looked like a sailing ship, suspended under a massive, elongated balloon. The orc tapped the drawing and spoke as Acevedo translated.
“He says there’s four main decks. The lowest is storage. Weapons, food, stuff like that. Not much that we need. That’s the lowest deck down.” The orc’s finger tapped the drawing again. “Right above that is the dragon deck. It’s two decks high and has cages that open to the outside of the hull to let them out to do their thing, and also open inside so the dragon mages can feed and care for them. There’s a big open section in the middle of the two rows of cages along the hull.”
Durok tapped the map again and spoke. “He says aft on this deck is a sealed, protected compartment that has the power crystal for the ship. It keeps the gas bags inflated and gives it power for steering and shields and stuff.” The petite sergeant frowned for a moment, listening to the orc, then added, “He says we probably won’t be able to get in there, so not to worry about it.” The orc gestured at the next section. “The third deck up is living quarters, where they dock the boats, kitchens, medical facilities, and that kind of thing.”
Acevedo spoke to Durok rapidly, then added, “That deck has a lot of bad guys, too. Most of the crew is there or up on the main deck when they aren’t on duty.” Durok spoke for a moment, then circled the point where he’d drawn lines from the balloon to the hull. “He says if we hit enough of the suspension cables, they’ll have to abandon the ship, or fall with it.”
Jones interjected, “Wait just a goddamn minute. If we blast those, don’t we fall with it?”
The big orc was already speaking, and Acevedo translated. “He says there’s six points, and if we take out four of them, the suspension system will fail. He also says the slowfall magics in the hull will give us enough time to get back to the boat. Failing that, he says, there’s lifeboats on the main deck.”
Tapping the top deck, the orc spoke again. “The main deck is where the lifeboats and the suspension cables to the gas bags are, and the aft upper deck is the command deck and admiral and captain’s quarters.”
Staring at the sketch for a moment, O’Malley slowly asked, “How did the orcs from those clans they fought in the mountains take them down?”
Listening for a moment, Acevedo replied, “Apparently they had orcs who rode giant bats up and boarded them, killed as many of the crew as they could get their hands on, then blew them up somehow.” She listened again and added, “And they used fire spears, whatever those are.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jones muttered. He glanced at the hatch leading to the top deck of the small airship they rode in. “Aren’t you taking a risk by talking to us? What about the orcs and the elf up there?”
Acevedo translated, and Durok shrugged. “The orcs are considering my proposal. The elf will be dealt with when the time is right.”
“What the fuck does that mean? What proposal?” Acevedo asked, surprised.
“They join me, slaughter elves, and die a glorious death, or I kill them where they stand,” The big orc replied calmly. “It’s a common offer when one is in a position of strength.”
“How are you in a position of strength? There’s two of them and an elf!”
The orc shrugged. “I am bigger and more experienced. They are unblooded, and as yet untested in battle. They do not stand a chance against a seasoned warleader.”
“Join or die?” Acev
edo asked, with a sly grin.
“Join or die,” the orc replied solemnly. He looked up the hatch and scowled. “We’ve stopped. I will go see why.”
Durok stood and made his way up the steps to the top deck. They could hear muted conversation, then a pause. There was a sudden scuffle, a thump, and a short scream. A shape flashed past the porthole, and there was silence from the top deck.
“What the…” O’Malley started to say.
“I think the elf was just ‘dealt with’,” Jones replied with a short laugh. “I kind of dig how these orcs operate. They don’t fuck around.”
Durok appeared in the hatch. “Soldiers. Come. The dragonship is under attack. Perhaps you would like to see your people still fighting.”
“Hell yes, we would,” Jones replied. The four humans made their way to the top deck. A waist-high railing ran around the edges. Of the elven pilot, only a dropped staff remained. One of the smaller orcs was at the ship’s helm, staring intently at what looked to be a crystal mounted in a housing in front of the wheel. The other was in the bow of the vessel, looking ahead alertly.
In the distance loomed the bulk of the dragonship. It was large, several hundred feet long, suspended below three rigid, cylindrical balloons secured side by side. The ship itself was the shape of an ancient sailing vessel, with an open top deck, aft and forecastles, and cables suspending it under the balloons. The hull itself was lined with small portholes, and in a belt running along the hull was a series of massive doors. Several sharp sparks of light streaked through the sky and impacted on an invisible barrier in the air, detonating harmlessly. Several more hit the side of the shields. In the distance, the familiar shape of a Reaper UAV banked away, turning to exit the area. As they watched, two of the doors lifted, revealing darkness inside the hull of the ship. A split second later, a dragon burst out with a tiny figure on its back. The dragons accelerated, clearly giving chase to the Reaper as it fled.
The orc in the bow turned and called to Durok, then pointed below them.
“He says our sky hunters sneak up from below while the Silverwing’s battle magi are distracted,” Acevedo translated. Jones and O’Malley moved to the side of the small ship and looked over.
After a few moments scanning the dense trees below, Jones pointed. “There. Apaches.” Against the dark green of the Pennsylvania countryside, the flight of the lethal attack helicopters was almost invisible. As Jones and O’Malley watched, the Apaches lifted their noses and volley fired rockets. The rockets streaked upwards, clearly aiming at the open ports the dragons had just exited from.
“What the hell are those things?” Acevedo asked in awe, watching the bright streaks tearing through the sky towards the bulky ship.
“I think they’re antitank rockets,” Jones replied. “Hellfires.” The large streaks stopped, followed by a series of smaller streaks, firing every few seconds. The missiles again impacted on the shields, detonating harmlessly. From the top deck of the dragonship, a beam of blue light swung out, intercepting one of the rockets, causing it to detonate harmlessly. A few seconds later, another rocket was intercepted, again blowing up harmlessly in the open sky.
Suddenly, there was a buffeting that shook the small ship. Several white shapes streaked past the awestruck soldiers, leaving the smell of jet fuel in their wakes. The cruise missiles suddenly rose high into the sky, then dove on the ship from above. The massive explosions and clouds of smoke obscured the ship from view.
“Holy shit!” Martinez exclaimed. “Did they just…” His voice trailed off as the ship sailed out of the cloud of smoke, apparently undamaged. As they watched, four more of the massive doors slid open, and the sinewy shapes of dragons took to the sky. The dragons dove for the ground, pursuing the fleeing attack helicopters, which had ceased fire and dropped to near ground level.
The explosions had ceased around the ship, and for a moment, there was no sound except the wind.
Sourly, Acevedo commented, “Well, it was a good try. I guess now we know cruise missiles don’t work on them.”
“They shoulda tried a nuke,” Martinez replied in a low, angry tone.
“Over American soil?” Acevedo replied. “That seems like a bad idea.”
“Listen, Sergeant. We’re losing this fight. You know it, I know it, the Army knows it, and the goddamn elves sure as hell know it. They might as well use nukes. If we can’t have it, they shouldn’t get it, either.” He fell silent, staring moodily at the elven warship in the distance.
The orc at the helm called out to Durok, who growled something in response, then said something to Acevedo. The small craft began moving again, headed towards the ship in the distance.
“What’d he say?” O’Malley asked Acevedo.
“He said it’s time, and to ready your weapons.” She paused, then added, “He also said to ‘Ask your gods for the strength to slay 1,000 elves and show no mercy’.” She shrugged and added, “As far as pre-mission inspirational speeches go, it’s not bad.”
“At least it was short,” O’Malley replied with a tired grin. “Let’s get geared up.”
-11-
“Belly of the Beast”
Somewhere over central Pennsylvania
As they waited for the small vessel to make contact with the huge dragonship, Acevedo could feel her heart racing. Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths to calm herself. She was startled when O’Malley’s voice came from behind her.
“You know, there’s this really good cupcake shop a few miles down the street. It’s called ‘Hello, Cupcake’. It’s really cute and whimsical, and they make a really amazing peanut butter cupcake. You should try it.” He was staring out the porthole next to the door, watching the massive bulk of the elven warship grow closer. “It’s way better than the place on campus.”
Startled, Acevedo replied, “What are you talking about?” She looked at O’Malley, who was staring out the window with a distant look on his face. Seeing her puzzled look, O’Malley glanced at her and replied in a conversational tone, “Cupcakes.” Seeing Acevedo’s perplexed look, he added, “In D.C.”
“Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She regarded him for a moment. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. You got into Georgetown. That means you’ll be in Southwest D.C. You’ll probably live on campus, ‘cause it’ll be way cheaper than most apartments in the district, unless you get roommates.”
With a frown, Acevedo replied, “Sir, do you really think that matters now?” She jerked her head at the hull of the elven vessel and added, “I’m not even sure we’re going to survive the crazy shit we’re about to do.”
O’Malley looked down at the deck for a moment, then looked back out the window and replied quietly, “I know. I was just thinking of better times. You know?”
Acevedo looked at the young officer, suddenly seeing him clearly. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face was weary and somber. He stared out the porthole as he spoke. “I tried to call her again before we left, you know,” his voice was distant, “but it went to voicemail.” He looked down at his hands, and for the first time ever, Acevedo noticed he was wearing a wedding ring. It was a burnished, silvery metal, covered in grime and blood from the days of fighting and running.
Mentally cursing herself for not noticing, she asked, “Sir, where is your family?”
Shaking his head silently, O’Malley didn’t reply for a few seconds. When he did, his voice was tight and carefully controlled. “I don’t know. We lived outside Philly, so if she and the kids were home, they’d be in occupied territory by now.”
“So she was home?” Acevedo asked gently.
“I think so,” O’Malley replied in a low voice. “I was activated from the office. I didn’t have time to go home to say goodbye, and we got hit so fast after that…” He looked at Acevedo. “I don’t need to tell you. You were there for that.”
“Listen.” Acevedo sighed and took off the elven helmet. “Zach, look at me.” The officer pulled
his eyes from the porthole and met hers. She took his face in her hands and said gently, “They’re fine. They’re home, and the pointy ears don’t want civilians. You did what you had to. You kept us alive and organized during the retreat. You did that. You.” Locking his eyes with her own, she stared intently at him. “You’ve saved many lives.” She stared at him, her brown eyes boring into his gray ones. “Including mine.”
“We lost almost all of them, though. I couldn’t save my soldiers. I couldn’t save my family.” His voice was unsteady.
Acevedo regarded him for a moment, then patted his cheek. “I understand all that. We’ve all lost people. I’ve lost people, too.” She indicated the hatch with her head. “In about 30 seconds, we’re going to charge into this flying elven piece of shit and tear it a new asshole, so I need you to focus.” She stared at him intently. “Ok, sir?” Her tone was gentle, but firm.
Taking a deep breath, O’Malley nodded.
With a tight, sad smile, Acevedo added, “When this is over, we can fall apart. I’m planning to eat boxes of thin mints, watch TV, and cry for a week…after we kick these fucking elves back to whatever hell they came from. Until then, keep it together.” She gently shook his head with her hands and asked, “Understand, Captain?”
O’Malley nodded, then looked out the small port. He blinked rapidly and called in a firm voice, “FIFTEEN SECONDS!” In a lower voice, he said to Acevedo, “Thanks, Olivia. I needed that.”
“What are NCOs for, sir?” Acevedo smiled and put the elven helmet back on. She raised an armored fist to O’Malley, who tapped it gently with his own fist. “Let’s get some.” She grinned at him.
“Hell, yeah.” O’Malley grinned back.
There was a sudden lurch of the deck, then a series of loud thumps, and the sensation of motion stopped. The hatch clicked and lowered slowly, revealing a wide, clean passageway leading to the left and right in front of them. The deck and walls were made of highly-polished wood, and there was a soft glow emanating from crystalline globes set in the bulkheads every 10 feet or so. Acevedo swallowed hard, picked up the rope that was loosely tied to O’Malley and Martinez, and stepped out into the hull of the dragonship.