NaNoWriMo: Day 30 Part 2
The main story is pretty much done, though I will be posting it in several parts due to LJ's size restrictions. Now to start a short epilogue, though!
Summit kept forcing himself to breathe as he sat behind Amod, who was working the controls of the Aristotle. They had moved back up through the Warp Winds only after seeing that Dread’s gremwing spies had flown off after the dragons. The moon was waning tonight, and its light reflected only faintly off the tops of the clouds stretched out for miles below the Aristotle.
“I’ve pinpointed the signal’s source,” Zarkan said, looking over his console. “We’re right in position overtop it.”
“My scan show there isn’t anything there, though. Just more rock,” Amod replied. He turned around to look at Summit. “What do you want us to do?”
Summit steeled his nerves. “We’re going in. I won’t lose this chance.” He didn’t add that after this, he was out of ideas on what might have happened to them. Is this what is father had felt like after losing their mother?
“Then let us hope that it is simply the Winds’ interference, and that we will not crush ourselves on the mountains,” Dram added.
“Thanks for the cheerful thought, brother,” Summit said, before turning back to Amod. “Take us down as gently as possible.”
The Aristotle shuddered as its ventral side came in contact with the Warp Winds, but the plasteel held firm, and soon the ship was submerged in the winds. Summit always hated this part - the blast shields had covered the windows, plunging the cockpit into darkness only broken by the light of the console screens and buttons.
“Five hundred feet to the underside,” Zarkan reported. “Three hundred, one hundred,” he continued to count.
The Aristotle broke through the bottom layer of the Warp Winds, but it was certainly no mountainside that they found beneath the clouds.
“By the great dragon,” Dram whispered. Summit had to agree - stretched out below the ship was a valley full of dwellings.
“Quick, Zarkan, get us some magnification,” Summit ordered. Zarkan nodded, and within moments, they could see in crystal clarity just who was living here: humans. Possibly thousands of humans.
“It can’t be,” Amod said, clearly in awe. “I thought we were the last survivors.”
“Take us down,” Summit said, “But be ready for immediate takeoff if the natives are unfriendly.”
Amod nodded, beginning the landing sequence. As the Aristotle settled on the waving grasses, a large crowd had gathered around the ship, making Summit nervous. He didn’t see any obvious weapons, but that was no cause for letting your guard down.
Suddenly the crowd parted and a familiar figure stepped through. “Father…walking?” Summit asked. He jumped up from his seat and motioned Dram to come along with him. Running to the exit, he punched the code to open the doors. The door had only moved halfway up before Summit was out of the ship and running toward Aaron.
“Father!” he called out, trying in vain to hold back his tears. Summit threw his arms around Aaron and hugged him tightly. “I knew we’d find you, I just knew it,” he whispered.
Dram had caught up with Summit by that point, and Aaron gathered him up into their hug as well. Finally pulling away, Summit looked at his father, “Z’neth, Peak, the others?”
“All fine,” Aaron nodded, with a smile. “They should be here momentarily.”
“And all these people?” Dram asked, gesturing to the gathered, silent crowd.
“These are the telepaths of the Oasis, our rescuers,” Aaron replied.
“Captain Bristol’s Oasis?” Summit asked, scarcely believing it.
Aaron smiled, throwing his arms around his two boys. “The very same, my sons.” At that moment, Peak, Nora, and Cifex came to greet them, followed shortly by a very underdressed Z’neth and Nocturna. Summit filed a mental note to ask about that a little later.
Summit felt unending relief at finding his family alive and well, but now he had to face telling his father and brother that he had defied the Council’s direct orders and taken martial command to find them. He knew they wouldn’t be happy, and Summit couldn’t stand to bring such an issue up now - not now that they had finally been reunited.
Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Apex?”
Cifex gave him a desperate look. “She’s not with you?”
“Wait…when was the last time any of us saw her?” Aaron asked.
“She was intercepting Gangryn making a run on the central reactor,” Cifex answered.
Summit groaned. “So she’s a prisoner of Dread Wing…or worse…”
Cifex shook his head. “Apex is smart and resourceful. It’ll take more than Gangryn to hold her down.”
A grave look crossed Aaron’s face. “Were there any other Airlandeans who didn’t make it out of the city? In fact, what happened to the city after our crash into the Warp Winds?” he asked Summit.
“Our scouts reported that Dread Wing captured the city, and used Warnado to drag it out of the Warp Winds. Orak was the only other person unaccounted for, and we believe he’s been captured, as Airlandis recently began flying again under its own power,” Summit replied.
“Then let us hope Orak and Apex have found each other and even now plot Dread Wing’s ruin,” Dram said.
*****
Hour later, as the Aristotle broke through the cloud barrier covering the Oasis, their scanners didn’t pick up the lone gremwing who spotted the ship. Chittering to itself, the gruesome creature flew as fast as its wings would carry it back to its master in the floating city.
Flying through the golden hallways, the gremwing made its way to the Council chamber, its master’s new seat of power. Alighting on Dread Wing’s arm, the gremwing squawked its news in his ear.
“Well done, oh, well done my child,” Dread Wing crooned, stroking the foul beasts little head and feeding it a piece of raw meat. He knew where the gremwing had seen the ship emerge from, and was well acquainted with the mountain range. And anything that the Dragon Flyz felt such a need to keep hidden there was most assuredly something he had to seize for his own.
“Rally the Dark Dramen,” he spat at Fryte, who cowered in the corner of the Council chamber. “We’re going hunting for the secrets of the Dragon Flyz,” Dread Wind said with a grim laugh.
*****
Iranda’s heart could burst from her chest as the Aristotle landed on Mount Alayas, surrounded by the multicolored hides of the dragons. She knew - seeing Riptor, Goliath, and Wing Storm alongside Sky Fury, Shockfire, and Thunder - that Summit had against all odds found the rest of their family.
Iranda had a thousand things she wanted to say, but as soon as the hatch opened and Aaron walked out on his own two feet everything else seemed to fall away. Running to him, Iranda was swept up into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.
“How is this possible?” she asked when Aaron had finally released her from a crushing hug.
Z’neth placed a hand on her shoulder before grazing her cheek with a kiss. “It’s a very long and involved story, Mother,” he said with a teasing chuckle.
“I don’t care if it’s an epic poem - I want to hear it!” she replied, kissing her eldest on the cheek before he moved on to greet the very worried Riptor appropriately.
Moving through the survivors and checking that everyone was okay, Iranda couldn’t stop her delight at seeing a certain android. “Cifex!” she squealed with delight as her friend rushed her and spun Iranda around like she weighed nothing. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe too!”
“Likewise, Iranda,” he replied, running a hand through his mohawk in what Iranda could have almost swore was an absentminded gesture (could androids have those?).
After all the acts of welcome had been uttered and hugs and kisses distributed (and worried dragons calmed and reassured that yes, their riders had really returned), Iranda followed her family to the new medical bay, where Miriam and Ilona gave them a good workup.
“I can’t find anything wrong,” Ilona said, putting her scanning equipment away. “In fact, their almost in better health than our last records indicated.”
“Double for Aaron, of course,” Miriam cut in, gesturing to where Iranda’s husband was undergoing a full body scan in a medical pod. “I want to know what could restore that kind of nerve damage.”
Iranda nodded. “Of course; they haven’t told me the full story yet, but I believe that’s mostly in order to avoid having to tell the tale a hundred times each.”
“It’s a tale I want to hear as well,” Joshua’s voice said from behind Iranda.
Miriam gave the Head Councilman an icy glare. “Come to apologize to Summit, Joshua? Otherwise, you can wait outside of my examination room until we’re finished here.”
“No need to be so hostile, Miriam. Summit made his choice, and he knew the consequences,” Joshua retorted. “I’m simply here to make sure everyone rescued checks out as okay.”
Z’neth looked up from where he and Nocturna were finishing up their exams. “What’s he taking about, Summit?” he asked, giving his brother a concerned look.
“Don’t mind that now,” Summit replied, shooting Joshua a dark look.
Joshua’s face took on an exasperated expression. “He’ll find out sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. Z’neth, in you and Aaron’s absence, Summit declared martial law over the entire Dragonator Corps in order to keep the search up for you despite our extremely limited resources. He did this with full knowledge that when he either found you or was forced to give up that martial control, he would be stripped of his status as a dragonator.”
Iranda’s heart broke as she saw the pained expressions cross her husband and Z’neth’s faces.
“Whatever the case may be, it will not be settled now,” Aaron replied. “Z’neth and I are resuming command now, and continuing in our search for Apex and Orak.”
Joshua shook his head. “By now they’re dead, or worse.”
“Please, Joshua,” Iranda pleaded. “One way or the other, we must know.”
Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. “Very well. But at the first sign of information on Apex and Orak’s fates, this disciplinary action will be revisited.” He nodded to Aaron before spinning on a heel and exiting the infirmary.
Z’neth clasped his brother’s arm. “Don’t worry, Summit. We’ll figure a way out of this somehow.”
Summit gave his older brother a sad smile. “I knew what I was getting into, Big Z. Being a dragonator is important to me, but not more so than having my family safe and accounted for.”
*****
Gangryn had to digest this newest information. Flexing his arm, he looked down at the deadly Dramen talons that now graced each of his fingers. If Dread Wing was really so foolish to take on another human settlement so soon after claiming Airlandis, then perhaps now would be the time to body-jump into Dread Wing’s cranium. Or simply use the talons to slash his throat.
Despite their victory, the mutant forces had not escaped the last battle without significant losses. The dragonators had decimated the current generation of gremwings, and many of the Dark Dramen forces were still licking their wounds. Dread Wing was a fool for thinking of starting a new crusade so soon.
Ever since they had discovered the hidden valley beneath the Warp Winds, Dread Wing had ordered Airlandis and Warnado to begin war preparations. The foundries of Warnado had been churning out plasma cannons and other weapons day and night, while the Dramen engineers had been working under the lash to rebuild Airlandis’ Warp Cannons. The floating city and the warship had also been moving slowly toward the coordinates - not fast enough to get the Mount Alayas’ humans attention yet, but Gangryn knew it wouldn’t take them long to notice.
The real question was if the former Airlandeans would be able to muster the strength to fight for their new allies?
*****
Beltran sipped his afternoon tea, savoring the warm sunshine that poured through the gaps in the clouds, warming his old bones. It had been several days since Aaron and the others had left, and the aged telepath was surprised to still feel a small sense of loss at their parting. There were so many things they could have shared with one another.
Still, if anything Beltran was a patient man. He knew that their paths would cross sometime in the future. Beltran considered indulging his curiosity by consulting one of the seers who lived among their community, but ultimately decided the surprise would be more welcome.
Hours later, as the dual sky fortresses blackened the sky over their valley, Beltran wished he had indulged his curiosity a bit more. Still, it was not too late. Aaron, we need your help! Beltran sent a psychic message to his friend, hoping it would reach him in time.
After his message had been sent, Beltran gathered his acolytes and friends. Their thoughts and minds mingled, becoming a psychic barrier that stretched over the valley like a shield. It was not a moment too soon, as energy blasts began raining down on the shield, only to be deflected. Beltran would try to hold off the invaders for as long as possible until help arrived. He only hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
*****
Aaron woke up as if from a nightmare as his mind was overtaken by the fear and anxiety in Beltran’s message. As if seeing through the aged psychic’s eyes, Aaron could see Airlandis and Warnado hovering ominously overhead before suddenly raining down fiery destruction.
“Aaron, my love, what’s wrong?” Iranda asked, turning on a light in their bedroom.
Aaron cupped his face in his hands. “It was Beltran, Iranda. The Oasis is under attack by Dread Wing’s forces! We have to help them - we can’t abandon the first humans we’ve encountered in centuries.”
Iranda grasped his face between her hands. “Nobody said we are, my love.” She threw the covers off and they went to the wall terminal in their unit, placing a call to Z’neth.
“We’ve got a problem, son,” Aaron said, outlining what he had seen.
“I’m going to sound a D3 Alert,” Z’neth replied. “If Dread is attacking a human settlement, we need to be on alert as well. And we’ll get half the Corps to suit up as well to see if we can provide some extra aid and firepower to the people of the Valley.”
“Acknowledged. I’m going to take down the Aristotle as well with a team of medics to see what aid we can provide,” Aaron added.
“Well I’m coming with you too!” Iranda cut it. “No way are we not doing this as a family!”
“Glad to have you along, Mom,” Z’neth replied.
*****
Orak gasped as he saw the Valley come into view beneath Airlandis. To think, there had been a human settlement so close all this time! So this was Dread’s plan - continue conquering or wiping out any human communities that came to light. Well, Orak couldn’t abide that.
It was time to put his plan into action.
Moving as silently as possible through the golden hallways and avoiding the routine Dark Dramen patrols, Orak made his way to the storage room that had become Apex's hideout. Since she had woken up from the medical capsule, Apex had been Orak's eyes and ears throughout the city. She knew all the secret passages to take in order to spy on the mutants and Dark Dramen, and had been able to slow down the interlopers' work without them ever the wiser. In fact, they had begun to tell strange, superstitious tales of ghosts and other nonsense haunting their work on the golden city. Orak was glad for the muties to think their tenure here was cursed.
Orak's eyes darted from side to side making sure there were no unwelcome visitors before slipping inside the room. Apex had to crawl back into the medical capsule every so often to maintain the illusion that she was still recovering (and preventing Dread Wing from discovering just who was still alive on board his new kingdom). But this late, Orak found her working by a small light on getting a pair of Wind Jammers working.
"How's it going?" he asked.
"You're the expert. Why don't you take a look?" she replied, scooting out of the way.
Orak sat down on the floor next to Apex, taking out his magna-goggles and peering through them at the circuitry Apex had been reconfiguring. Orak gave a grunt. The work was actually pretty good. "It'll do, kid," he replied gruffly, pulling his goggles back onto his forehead.
Apex smirked. "If I didn't know better, I might actually think you were giving me a compliment."
Orak gave her a wicked grin back. "Good thing you know better then." He pulled his magna-goggles back down. "I'm going to disengage the safeties on these. That should give you at least thirty percent higher output."
"You mean if it doesn't blow my arm away?" Apex replied.
Orak waved her off. "You know I'm better than that. I promise they won't overload."
Apex raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "And if you could increase the power of the Wind Jammers without worrying about overload, why haven't you done it before?"
"Because I don't want to deal with the trigger happy dragonators injuring themselves," Orak replied. "My tech is good, but it isn't perfect. I owe Miriam at least a few less visits to her infirmary."
They worked together in relative quiet for a few more minutes, making the final adjustments. When Orak was finally satisfied, he had Apex try on the improved Wind Jammers and give a few test shots. "Well, how do they feel?"
"There's quite a bit more recoil, but I can definitely see the increased power output," Apex replied, looking pointedly at the smoking holes in the plasteel wall.
"Good. Should make taking out our new friends a lot easier," Orak replied.
Apex looked at him. "Aren't you going to take one of these?"
Orak shook his head. "No can do, Apex. There's no way I can disguise that kind of weaponry while working under our brutish captors." He dug around in his pocket before producing a sonic welder. "I've souped up this baby to an unsafe limit. It'll definitely punch through Dark Dramen armor."
“Well, you seem to have things well in hand,” Apex replied.
He shrugged. “Just hope that’ll be good enough. You know what to do?”
Apex nodded. “Affirmative. I’ve been studying the plans all day.”
“Good. We’ll meet up at the dragon dock after we’re finished, then we’re blowing this joint,” Orak said.
*****
Peak almost couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes - Warnado and Airlandis raining destruction down on the Oasis together. It was surreal, like something from a nightmare. Except Peak knew he wasn’t going to wake up and find everything okay this time.
“Dragonator One,” Aaron said across the Vox Box from his position in the Aristotle, “Are you ready to begin?”
“Affirmative, Father,” Z’neth replied. The plan was that Dragonator One would attempt to infiltrate and regain control of Airlandis (while searching for Apex and Orak) while the other dragonators under Zarkan’s command kept Warnado’s forces busy. Peak wanted to say he felt good about their chances for success, but the truth was he was scared stiff. Without the city to back them up, what chance did their ragtag group have of carrying out this mission?
Z'neth gave the signal, and Peak felt Wing Storm's roar reverberate through his bones as the purple dragon shot through the clouds. The golden dome raced forward toward him, and Peak barely had time to steer Stormy out of the way before a huge blast from one of the new Warp Cannons rushed by him, blowing a hole in the cloud cover.
"Looks like Dread must have put Orak to work!" Peak yelled to Summit.
Peak's brother was about to reply, but was interrupted by gremwings pouring out of every orifice in Warnado, screeching battle cries. Peak cursed as they were followed by the blasted cragface Dark Dramen and mutant warriors.
Z'neth gave Zarkan another signal, and the dark-skinned dragonator pulled Thunder and the rest of his squadron up and around Dragonator One, obscuring them from view. Peak caught the red whip of Nora's ponytail as she and Goliath charged after Zarkan, Wind Jammers blazing. Amod, Dram, and several other squadrons were close behind.
Peak held his breath. All too soon, the dragonators met the front lines of Warnado's forces under Fryte's command. As shots from Wind Jammers and plasma cannons spewed in every direction, Peak prayed silently for Nora and the others’ safety.
The youngest brother didn’t hold out much hope for his sister and Orak, though. He vividly remembered the Dark Dream that Dread Wing had put them through; knew the sadistic pleasure the mutant warlord gleaned from others’ pain. Peak privately thought they would be lucky to find Apex alive at all.
Z’neth gave another signal; Peak shook off his dark brooding and he and Summit peeled off in opposite directions. The plan was to take three different routes into the city, then join forces once inside the dome to take on Dread Wing.
As Stormy dodged another hail of fire from the Warp Cannons though, Peak hoped they would live long enough to regroup. Stormy flew around the city toward the dragon dock, and Peak was glad to see that though the dock was crawling with Dark Dramen, the blast doors were open. Well, what was left of the blast doors anyway. The huge door was a melted, smoking mess, and Peak could hear weapons fire from just inside.
Maybe reports of his sister’s demise had been greatly exaggerated?
*****
Apex let loose a loud string of curses as she kicked a mutant warrior in the face. Things were definitely not going as well as she had hoped. Still, that was a satisfying crunch as her boot connected with another jaw.
She and Orak had split up, planting the engineer’s homegrown bombs around the perimeter of the city. Orak had fitted each of the explosives with a transceiver chip that would all for remote detonation. The plan had been to plant the bombs at strategic intervals that would take out the turbines below the city, probably grounding it for good.
Except that halfway around the city, Apex had gotten waylaid by a troop of mutant warriors.
“Orak!” she called in through the Vox Box. “I’m trapped in Sector G! Met up with some - oof - old friends of ours!”
“Hang tight, kid - I’m on the way!” Orak replied. Apex fired her upgraded Wind Jammers into the mutant crowd, pleased to see the mutant fly backward with enough force to dent the plasteel bulkhead.
One of the mutants cut her arm using a wicked looking knife, and Apex felt her hand grow slick with blood before another blast of the Wind Jammer cut a lovely hole it the creep’s chest. Suddenly, Orak was at her side spinning like crazy as he wielded twin sonic welders.
Apex was suddenly filled with weapons jealousy as Orak’s welders cut through the mutants like butter. Within a few moments, the mutants were either dead or had scattered.
“Remind me to get one of those from you for my next mission,” Apex wheezed, trying to catch her breath.
“Not,” Orak gasped, “quite standard issue, I think.” When he finally caught his breath, the old engineer cursed. “I’m too damn old for these kinds of shenanigans anymore.”
“Hey, I’ll take your fighting over at least half of the dragonators,” Apex replied with a grin. She strolled over to a wall station and powered up the computer. “How many of your charges got placed?” she asked, turning back to Orak.
“I got them placed over turbines two and three before your call came in,” he replied.
“Damn,” Apex swore. “I only got turbine four.” She pulled up a map of the city, scanning for mutant signatures. She swore again, more colorfully this time. “Orak, there’s no way we’re going to be able to place the last three charges. They must have picked up on our fight, and additional forces are pouring into the dome.” She gestured to the red dots moving closer to their position.”
Orak put a hand on her shoulder. “Then let’s hope three is enough. We need to get out of here before our new friends catch up.”
Apex nodded, and they began jogging toward the dragon dock, making a pit stop to pick up their exo-wing packs. As the pair rounded the final corner though, they pulled back at the sight that greeted them.
“There must be a hundred troops here!” Apex whispered frantically. “We’ll never make it out!”
Orak pulled a small device from his pocket. “We need a distraction, then. Who knew these extra bombs would actually come in handy?”
Apex grinned and loaded the device into her Wind Slammer launcher. She and Orak both pulled down the blast shields on their helmets, and Apex stepped around the corner, launching the bomb towards the blast door.
She was definitely not prepared for what followed.
First came the heat, warping vision and melting the plasteel walls. The explosion soon followed, deafening and terrifying as it shook the floor beneath them as convincingly as any airquake. Apex saw Dark Dramen body parts go flying past their guarded position, blown back by the force of the explosion.
When the dust settled, Apex stepped out from behind the corner, followed closely by Orak. She gingerly picked her way through the sea of bodies until they reached the remains of the door. Apex heard the faintest noise before pulling Orak down with her behind a piece of the floor that had been uprooted by the blast. From behind, a lava cannon shot blew past them, scorching the top of Apex’s helmet.
“Looks like our little friends haven’t given up yet,” Orak said, breathing heavily.
Apex was sick and tired of hiding in her own home. She had had it with Dread Wing, Fryte, and all the other scum mutants and cragface Dark Dramen occupying their home. “Stay down, Orak,” she whispered. Apex gave a few shots over the melted plasteel barrier, and was satisfied when a gurgling cry rang out. “When I give the signal, take your exo-wings and run.”
The old engineer simply shook his head. “I didn’t baby you in a medical capsule for weeks so you could go get yourself killed like this. Besides, your father would be furious with me.” He held out his hand to her. “Give me one of the Wind Jammers, and I’ll cover your escape.”
“I can’t let you do that Orak. You’re invaluable to Airlandis, and I could never face Zarkan and Miriam knowing that I let you die here.” She gave him a steely look. “We’re going together, and that’s final.”
Orak simply sighed and nodded, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument. He pulled out one of the sonic welders and began to cut through the bottom of their plasteel barrier. Apex continued firing shots to give him time. They could use the deck plating as a shield to cover their escape.
When Orak had finished cutting through and attaching a small part of plasteel as a crude handle, he grabbed it and they both said “Maximize!” to activate the exo-wings. Slowly, slowly, they began to rise from the ground, with Apex firing shot after shot in a vain attempt to hold back their attackers. Once she made the mistake of looking over the barrier and almost had her head taken off by a well-placed lava gun barrage.
Still, she could see that the Dark Dramen had regrouped in larger numbers. Once they noticed Apex and Orak moving backwards behind their shield, the creatures gave war cries, unfurled their wings, and began flying toward the retreating pair.
Just as brutes were about to overtake them, however, a miracle flew in on purple wings. Apex let out a cheer as Wing Storm and Peak dove through, the dragon whipping his tail from side to side, taking out many of the attackers, and Peak picking off those who managed to make it through Stormy’s attack.
When the dust had settled and the Dark Dramen were either unconscious or fleeing in the opposite direction, Peak jumped off Wing Storm and flew to his sister, grabbing her in a tight hug.
“Pexy, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’d almost given you up…” he cried, tears pricking the corners of his blue eyes. Apex sniffed too and squeezed his arm affectionately, not trusting herself to words for the time being.
After long moments, Peak separated himself from Apex and hugged Orak too, much to the engineer’s supposed alarm and surprise. “Thank for keeping her safe, Orak,” Peak said.
“Ah, don’t mention it, kiddo,” Orak replied.
Apex scoffed. “Don’t let him get away with false modesty, Peak. He kept me hidden for weeks in a medical capsule while my injuries healed.”
“More injuries, sis?” Peak asked, concern in his voice. “Who did you run into during the escape?”
“Gangryn and a souped-up Brain Slave,” Apex answered. “But he’s dead, I think - vaporized by some weird energy reaction between his suit and the amber reactors.”
“Good riddance, then,” Peak replied.
Apex nodded. “Agreed, little brother, but right now we’ve got to get out of here,” she said, before explaining her and Orak’s plan to blow the turbines.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Peak asked. “There are a hundred dragonators out there distracting Dread’s forces while we Z’neth, Summit and I are trying to take back the city and turn its guns on Warnado.”
“Only half the Warp Cannons are even still working, Peak,” Orak replied. “I’ve checked them myself. So even if we did take back the city, it wouldn’t be able to stand up against Warnado. And I’d sooner lose the city than see Dread Wing use it against humanity.”
Peak sighed. “I see your point, even if I don’t like it. Better call this in.” He linked up to Aaron, Z’neth and Summit on his Vox Box and relayed the findings.
“Much as I hate to say this, I agree with Orak,” Aaron’s voice crackled through the Vox Box. “We can’t fight a war on two fronts, and this could be our chance to get rid of Dread Wing once and for all time.”
“Give us time, Father,” Apex heard Summit say through the Vox. “We can’t give up on the city so easily!”
“Why don’t we try both methods,” Z’neth said. “I want Apex to get Orak out of here - they’ve done more than enough at this point. Peak, take the charges and finish planting them on the turbine locations. Summit and I will confront Dread Wing, and if we fail, we blow the turbines.”
“Agreed,” Peak replied.
Apex looked less convinced. “As soon as Orak gets to safety aboard the Aristotle, I’m coming back in. No way am I letting my brothers confront Dread Wing without me.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, sis,” Summit said.
Aaron’s voice crackled through the Vox Box. “You have your orders, then. Good luck, Dragon Flyz.”
Summit kept forcing himself to breathe as he sat behind Amod, who was working the controls of the Aristotle. They had moved back up through the Warp Winds only after seeing that Dread’s gremwing spies had flown off after the dragons. The moon was waning tonight, and its light reflected only faintly off the tops of the clouds stretched out for miles below the Aristotle.
“I’ve pinpointed the signal’s source,” Zarkan said, looking over his console. “We’re right in position overtop it.”
“My scan show there isn’t anything there, though. Just more rock,” Amod replied. He turned around to look at Summit. “What do you want us to do?”
Summit steeled his nerves. “We’re going in. I won’t lose this chance.” He didn’t add that after this, he was out of ideas on what might have happened to them. Is this what is father had felt like after losing their mother?
“Then let us hope that it is simply the Winds’ interference, and that we will not crush ourselves on the mountains,” Dram added.
“Thanks for the cheerful thought, brother,” Summit said, before turning back to Amod. “Take us down as gently as possible.”
The Aristotle shuddered as its ventral side came in contact with the Warp Winds, but the plasteel held firm, and soon the ship was submerged in the winds. Summit always hated this part - the blast shields had covered the windows, plunging the cockpit into darkness only broken by the light of the console screens and buttons.
“Five hundred feet to the underside,” Zarkan reported. “Three hundred, one hundred,” he continued to count.
The Aristotle broke through the bottom layer of the Warp Winds, but it was certainly no mountainside that they found beneath the clouds.
“By the great dragon,” Dram whispered. Summit had to agree - stretched out below the ship was a valley full of dwellings.
“Quick, Zarkan, get us some magnification,” Summit ordered. Zarkan nodded, and within moments, they could see in crystal clarity just who was living here: humans. Possibly thousands of humans.
“It can’t be,” Amod said, clearly in awe. “I thought we were the last survivors.”
“Take us down,” Summit said, “But be ready for immediate takeoff if the natives are unfriendly.”
Amod nodded, beginning the landing sequence. As the Aristotle settled on the waving grasses, a large crowd had gathered around the ship, making Summit nervous. He didn’t see any obvious weapons, but that was no cause for letting your guard down.
Suddenly the crowd parted and a familiar figure stepped through. “Father…walking?” Summit asked. He jumped up from his seat and motioned Dram to come along with him. Running to the exit, he punched the code to open the doors. The door had only moved halfway up before Summit was out of the ship and running toward Aaron.
“Father!” he called out, trying in vain to hold back his tears. Summit threw his arms around Aaron and hugged him tightly. “I knew we’d find you, I just knew it,” he whispered.
Dram had caught up with Summit by that point, and Aaron gathered him up into their hug as well. Finally pulling away, Summit looked at his father, “Z’neth, Peak, the others?”
“All fine,” Aaron nodded, with a smile. “They should be here momentarily.”
“And all these people?” Dram asked, gesturing to the gathered, silent crowd.
“These are the telepaths of the Oasis, our rescuers,” Aaron replied.
“Captain Bristol’s Oasis?” Summit asked, scarcely believing it.
Aaron smiled, throwing his arms around his two boys. “The very same, my sons.” At that moment, Peak, Nora, and Cifex came to greet them, followed shortly by a very underdressed Z’neth and Nocturna. Summit filed a mental note to ask about that a little later.
Summit felt unending relief at finding his family alive and well, but now he had to face telling his father and brother that he had defied the Council’s direct orders and taken martial command to find them. He knew they wouldn’t be happy, and Summit couldn’t stand to bring such an issue up now - not now that they had finally been reunited.
Looking around, he asked, “Where’s Apex?”
Cifex gave him a desperate look. “She’s not with you?”
“Wait…when was the last time any of us saw her?” Aaron asked.
“She was intercepting Gangryn making a run on the central reactor,” Cifex answered.
Summit groaned. “So she’s a prisoner of Dread Wing…or worse…”
Cifex shook his head. “Apex is smart and resourceful. It’ll take more than Gangryn to hold her down.”
A grave look crossed Aaron’s face. “Were there any other Airlandeans who didn’t make it out of the city? In fact, what happened to the city after our crash into the Warp Winds?” he asked Summit.
“Our scouts reported that Dread Wing captured the city, and used Warnado to drag it out of the Warp Winds. Orak was the only other person unaccounted for, and we believe he’s been captured, as Airlandis recently began flying again under its own power,” Summit replied.
“Then let us hope Orak and Apex have found each other and even now plot Dread Wing’s ruin,” Dram said.
*****
Hour later, as the Aristotle broke through the cloud barrier covering the Oasis, their scanners didn’t pick up the lone gremwing who spotted the ship. Chittering to itself, the gruesome creature flew as fast as its wings would carry it back to its master in the floating city.
Flying through the golden hallways, the gremwing made its way to the Council chamber, its master’s new seat of power. Alighting on Dread Wing’s arm, the gremwing squawked its news in his ear.
“Well done, oh, well done my child,” Dread Wing crooned, stroking the foul beasts little head and feeding it a piece of raw meat. He knew where the gremwing had seen the ship emerge from, and was well acquainted with the mountain range. And anything that the Dragon Flyz felt such a need to keep hidden there was most assuredly something he had to seize for his own.
“Rally the Dark Dramen,” he spat at Fryte, who cowered in the corner of the Council chamber. “We’re going hunting for the secrets of the Dragon Flyz,” Dread Wind said with a grim laugh.
*****
Iranda’s heart could burst from her chest as the Aristotle landed on Mount Alayas, surrounded by the multicolored hides of the dragons. She knew - seeing Riptor, Goliath, and Wing Storm alongside Sky Fury, Shockfire, and Thunder - that Summit had against all odds found the rest of their family.
Iranda had a thousand things she wanted to say, but as soon as the hatch opened and Aaron walked out on his own two feet everything else seemed to fall away. Running to him, Iranda was swept up into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.
“How is this possible?” she asked when Aaron had finally released her from a crushing hug.
Z’neth placed a hand on her shoulder before grazing her cheek with a kiss. “It’s a very long and involved story, Mother,” he said with a teasing chuckle.
“I don’t care if it’s an epic poem - I want to hear it!” she replied, kissing her eldest on the cheek before he moved on to greet the very worried Riptor appropriately.
Moving through the survivors and checking that everyone was okay, Iranda couldn’t stop her delight at seeing a certain android. “Cifex!” she squealed with delight as her friend rushed her and spun Iranda around like she weighed nothing. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re safe too!”
“Likewise, Iranda,” he replied, running a hand through his mohawk in what Iranda could have almost swore was an absentminded gesture (could androids have those?).
After all the acts of welcome had been uttered and hugs and kisses distributed (and worried dragons calmed and reassured that yes, their riders had really returned), Iranda followed her family to the new medical bay, where Miriam and Ilona gave them a good workup.
“I can’t find anything wrong,” Ilona said, putting her scanning equipment away. “In fact, their almost in better health than our last records indicated.”
“Double for Aaron, of course,” Miriam cut in, gesturing to where Iranda’s husband was undergoing a full body scan in a medical pod. “I want to know what could restore that kind of nerve damage.”
Iranda nodded. “Of course; they haven’t told me the full story yet, but I believe that’s mostly in order to avoid having to tell the tale a hundred times each.”
“It’s a tale I want to hear as well,” Joshua’s voice said from behind Iranda.
Miriam gave the Head Councilman an icy glare. “Come to apologize to Summit, Joshua? Otherwise, you can wait outside of my examination room until we’re finished here.”
“No need to be so hostile, Miriam. Summit made his choice, and he knew the consequences,” Joshua retorted. “I’m simply here to make sure everyone rescued checks out as okay.”
Z’neth looked up from where he and Nocturna were finishing up their exams. “What’s he taking about, Summit?” he asked, giving his brother a concerned look.
“Don’t mind that now,” Summit replied, shooting Joshua a dark look.
Joshua’s face took on an exasperated expression. “He’ll find out sooner or later. Might as well be sooner. Z’neth, in you and Aaron’s absence, Summit declared martial law over the entire Dragonator Corps in order to keep the search up for you despite our extremely limited resources. He did this with full knowledge that when he either found you or was forced to give up that martial control, he would be stripped of his status as a dragonator.”
Iranda’s heart broke as she saw the pained expressions cross her husband and Z’neth’s faces.
“Whatever the case may be, it will not be settled now,” Aaron replied. “Z’neth and I are resuming command now, and continuing in our search for Apex and Orak.”
Joshua shook his head. “By now they’re dead, or worse.”
“Please, Joshua,” Iranda pleaded. “One way or the other, we must know.”
Joshua pinched the bridge of his nose. “Very well. But at the first sign of information on Apex and Orak’s fates, this disciplinary action will be revisited.” He nodded to Aaron before spinning on a heel and exiting the infirmary.
Z’neth clasped his brother’s arm. “Don’t worry, Summit. We’ll figure a way out of this somehow.”
Summit gave his older brother a sad smile. “I knew what I was getting into, Big Z. Being a dragonator is important to me, but not more so than having my family safe and accounted for.”
*****
Gangryn had to digest this newest information. Flexing his arm, he looked down at the deadly Dramen talons that now graced each of his fingers. If Dread Wing was really so foolish to take on another human settlement so soon after claiming Airlandis, then perhaps now would be the time to body-jump into Dread Wing’s cranium. Or simply use the talons to slash his throat.
Despite their victory, the mutant forces had not escaped the last battle without significant losses. The dragonators had decimated the current generation of gremwings, and many of the Dark Dramen forces were still licking their wounds. Dread Wing was a fool for thinking of starting a new crusade so soon.
Ever since they had discovered the hidden valley beneath the Warp Winds, Dread Wing had ordered Airlandis and Warnado to begin war preparations. The foundries of Warnado had been churning out plasma cannons and other weapons day and night, while the Dramen engineers had been working under the lash to rebuild Airlandis’ Warp Cannons. The floating city and the warship had also been moving slowly toward the coordinates - not fast enough to get the Mount Alayas’ humans attention yet, but Gangryn knew it wouldn’t take them long to notice.
The real question was if the former Airlandeans would be able to muster the strength to fight for their new allies?
*****
Beltran sipped his afternoon tea, savoring the warm sunshine that poured through the gaps in the clouds, warming his old bones. It had been several days since Aaron and the others had left, and the aged telepath was surprised to still feel a small sense of loss at their parting. There were so many things they could have shared with one another.
Still, if anything Beltran was a patient man. He knew that their paths would cross sometime in the future. Beltran considered indulging his curiosity by consulting one of the seers who lived among their community, but ultimately decided the surprise would be more welcome.
Hours later, as the dual sky fortresses blackened the sky over their valley, Beltran wished he had indulged his curiosity a bit more. Still, it was not too late. Aaron, we need your help! Beltran sent a psychic message to his friend, hoping it would reach him in time.
After his message had been sent, Beltran gathered his acolytes and friends. Their thoughts and minds mingled, becoming a psychic barrier that stretched over the valley like a shield. It was not a moment too soon, as energy blasts began raining down on the shield, only to be deflected. Beltran would try to hold off the invaders for as long as possible until help arrived. He only hoped they wouldn’t be too late.
*****
Aaron woke up as if from a nightmare as his mind was overtaken by the fear and anxiety in Beltran’s message. As if seeing through the aged psychic’s eyes, Aaron could see Airlandis and Warnado hovering ominously overhead before suddenly raining down fiery destruction.
“Aaron, my love, what’s wrong?” Iranda asked, turning on a light in their bedroom.
Aaron cupped his face in his hands. “It was Beltran, Iranda. The Oasis is under attack by Dread Wing’s forces! We have to help them - we can’t abandon the first humans we’ve encountered in centuries.”
Iranda grasped his face between her hands. “Nobody said we are, my love.” She threw the covers off and they went to the wall terminal in their unit, placing a call to Z’neth.
“We’ve got a problem, son,” Aaron said, outlining what he had seen.
“I’m going to sound a D3 Alert,” Z’neth replied. “If Dread is attacking a human settlement, we need to be on alert as well. And we’ll get half the Corps to suit up as well to see if we can provide some extra aid and firepower to the people of the Valley.”
“Acknowledged. I’m going to take down the Aristotle as well with a team of medics to see what aid we can provide,” Aaron added.
“Well I’m coming with you too!” Iranda cut it. “No way are we not doing this as a family!”
“Glad to have you along, Mom,” Z’neth replied.
*****
Orak gasped as he saw the Valley come into view beneath Airlandis. To think, there had been a human settlement so close all this time! So this was Dread’s plan - continue conquering or wiping out any human communities that came to light. Well, Orak couldn’t abide that.
It was time to put his plan into action.
Moving as silently as possible through the golden hallways and avoiding the routine Dark Dramen patrols, Orak made his way to the storage room that had become Apex's hideout. Since she had woken up from the medical capsule, Apex had been Orak's eyes and ears throughout the city. She knew all the secret passages to take in order to spy on the mutants and Dark Dramen, and had been able to slow down the interlopers' work without them ever the wiser. In fact, they had begun to tell strange, superstitious tales of ghosts and other nonsense haunting their work on the golden city. Orak was glad for the muties to think their tenure here was cursed.
Orak's eyes darted from side to side making sure there were no unwelcome visitors before slipping inside the room. Apex had to crawl back into the medical capsule every so often to maintain the illusion that she was still recovering (and preventing Dread Wing from discovering just who was still alive on board his new kingdom). But this late, Orak found her working by a small light on getting a pair of Wind Jammers working.
"How's it going?" he asked.
"You're the expert. Why don't you take a look?" she replied, scooting out of the way.
Orak sat down on the floor next to Apex, taking out his magna-goggles and peering through them at the circuitry Apex had been reconfiguring. Orak gave a grunt. The work was actually pretty good. "It'll do, kid," he replied gruffly, pulling his goggles back onto his forehead.
Apex smirked. "If I didn't know better, I might actually think you were giving me a compliment."
Orak gave her a wicked grin back. "Good thing you know better then." He pulled his magna-goggles back down. "I'm going to disengage the safeties on these. That should give you at least thirty percent higher output."
"You mean if it doesn't blow my arm away?" Apex replied.
Orak waved her off. "You know I'm better than that. I promise they won't overload."
Apex raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "And if you could increase the power of the Wind Jammers without worrying about overload, why haven't you done it before?"
"Because I don't want to deal with the trigger happy dragonators injuring themselves," Orak replied. "My tech is good, but it isn't perfect. I owe Miriam at least a few less visits to her infirmary."
They worked together in relative quiet for a few more minutes, making the final adjustments. When Orak was finally satisfied, he had Apex try on the improved Wind Jammers and give a few test shots. "Well, how do they feel?"
"There's quite a bit more recoil, but I can definitely see the increased power output," Apex replied, looking pointedly at the smoking holes in the plasteel wall.
"Good. Should make taking out our new friends a lot easier," Orak replied.
Apex looked at him. "Aren't you going to take one of these?"
Orak shook his head. "No can do, Apex. There's no way I can disguise that kind of weaponry while working under our brutish captors." He dug around in his pocket before producing a sonic welder. "I've souped up this baby to an unsafe limit. It'll definitely punch through Dark Dramen armor."
“Well, you seem to have things well in hand,” Apex replied.
He shrugged. “Just hope that’ll be good enough. You know what to do?”
Apex nodded. “Affirmative. I’ve been studying the plans all day.”
“Good. We’ll meet up at the dragon dock after we’re finished, then we’re blowing this joint,” Orak said.
*****
Peak almost couldn’t believe the sight before his eyes - Warnado and Airlandis raining destruction down on the Oasis together. It was surreal, like something from a nightmare. Except Peak knew he wasn’t going to wake up and find everything okay this time.
“Dragonator One,” Aaron said across the Vox Box from his position in the Aristotle, “Are you ready to begin?”
“Affirmative, Father,” Z’neth replied. The plan was that Dragonator One would attempt to infiltrate and regain control of Airlandis (while searching for Apex and Orak) while the other dragonators under Zarkan’s command kept Warnado’s forces busy. Peak wanted to say he felt good about their chances for success, but the truth was he was scared stiff. Without the city to back them up, what chance did their ragtag group have of carrying out this mission?
Z'neth gave the signal, and Peak felt Wing Storm's roar reverberate through his bones as the purple dragon shot through the clouds. The golden dome raced forward toward him, and Peak barely had time to steer Stormy out of the way before a huge blast from one of the new Warp Cannons rushed by him, blowing a hole in the cloud cover.
"Looks like Dread must have put Orak to work!" Peak yelled to Summit.
Peak's brother was about to reply, but was interrupted by gremwings pouring out of every orifice in Warnado, screeching battle cries. Peak cursed as they were followed by the blasted cragface Dark Dramen and mutant warriors.
Z'neth gave Zarkan another signal, and the dark-skinned dragonator pulled Thunder and the rest of his squadron up and around Dragonator One, obscuring them from view. Peak caught the red whip of Nora's ponytail as she and Goliath charged after Zarkan, Wind Jammers blazing. Amod, Dram, and several other squadrons were close behind.
Peak held his breath. All too soon, the dragonators met the front lines of Warnado's forces under Fryte's command. As shots from Wind Jammers and plasma cannons spewed in every direction, Peak prayed silently for Nora and the others’ safety.
The youngest brother didn’t hold out much hope for his sister and Orak, though. He vividly remembered the Dark Dream that Dread Wing had put them through; knew the sadistic pleasure the mutant warlord gleaned from others’ pain. Peak privately thought they would be lucky to find Apex alive at all.
Z’neth gave another signal; Peak shook off his dark brooding and he and Summit peeled off in opposite directions. The plan was to take three different routes into the city, then join forces once inside the dome to take on Dread Wing.
As Stormy dodged another hail of fire from the Warp Cannons though, Peak hoped they would live long enough to regroup. Stormy flew around the city toward the dragon dock, and Peak was glad to see that though the dock was crawling with Dark Dramen, the blast doors were open. Well, what was left of the blast doors anyway. The huge door was a melted, smoking mess, and Peak could hear weapons fire from just inside.
Maybe reports of his sister’s demise had been greatly exaggerated?
*****
Apex let loose a loud string of curses as she kicked a mutant warrior in the face. Things were definitely not going as well as she had hoped. Still, that was a satisfying crunch as her boot connected with another jaw.
She and Orak had split up, planting the engineer’s homegrown bombs around the perimeter of the city. Orak had fitted each of the explosives with a transceiver chip that would all for remote detonation. The plan had been to plant the bombs at strategic intervals that would take out the turbines below the city, probably grounding it for good.
Except that halfway around the city, Apex had gotten waylaid by a troop of mutant warriors.
“Orak!” she called in through the Vox Box. “I’m trapped in Sector G! Met up with some - oof - old friends of ours!”
“Hang tight, kid - I’m on the way!” Orak replied. Apex fired her upgraded Wind Jammers into the mutant crowd, pleased to see the mutant fly backward with enough force to dent the plasteel bulkhead.
One of the mutants cut her arm using a wicked looking knife, and Apex felt her hand grow slick with blood before another blast of the Wind Jammer cut a lovely hole it the creep’s chest. Suddenly, Orak was at her side spinning like crazy as he wielded twin sonic welders.
Apex was suddenly filled with weapons jealousy as Orak’s welders cut through the mutants like butter. Within a few moments, the mutants were either dead or had scattered.
“Remind me to get one of those from you for my next mission,” Apex wheezed, trying to catch her breath.
“Not,” Orak gasped, “quite standard issue, I think.” When he finally caught his breath, the old engineer cursed. “I’m too damn old for these kinds of shenanigans anymore.”
“Hey, I’ll take your fighting over at least half of the dragonators,” Apex replied with a grin. She strolled over to a wall station and powered up the computer. “How many of your charges got placed?” she asked, turning back to Orak.
“I got them placed over turbines two and three before your call came in,” he replied.
“Damn,” Apex swore. “I only got turbine four.” She pulled up a map of the city, scanning for mutant signatures. She swore again, more colorfully this time. “Orak, there’s no way we’re going to be able to place the last three charges. They must have picked up on our fight, and additional forces are pouring into the dome.” She gestured to the red dots moving closer to their position.”
Orak put a hand on her shoulder. “Then let’s hope three is enough. We need to get out of here before our new friends catch up.”
Apex nodded, and they began jogging toward the dragon dock, making a pit stop to pick up their exo-wing packs. As the pair rounded the final corner though, they pulled back at the sight that greeted them.
“There must be a hundred troops here!” Apex whispered frantically. “We’ll never make it out!”
Orak pulled a small device from his pocket. “We need a distraction, then. Who knew these extra bombs would actually come in handy?”
Apex grinned and loaded the device into her Wind Slammer launcher. She and Orak both pulled down the blast shields on their helmets, and Apex stepped around the corner, launching the bomb towards the blast door.
She was definitely not prepared for what followed.
First came the heat, warping vision and melting the plasteel walls. The explosion soon followed, deafening and terrifying as it shook the floor beneath them as convincingly as any airquake. Apex saw Dark Dramen body parts go flying past their guarded position, blown back by the force of the explosion.
When the dust settled, Apex stepped out from behind the corner, followed closely by Orak. She gingerly picked her way through the sea of bodies until they reached the remains of the door. Apex heard the faintest noise before pulling Orak down with her behind a piece of the floor that had been uprooted by the blast. From behind, a lava cannon shot blew past them, scorching the top of Apex’s helmet.
“Looks like our little friends haven’t given up yet,” Orak said, breathing heavily.
Apex was sick and tired of hiding in her own home. She had had it with Dread Wing, Fryte, and all the other scum mutants and cragface Dark Dramen occupying their home. “Stay down, Orak,” she whispered. Apex gave a few shots over the melted plasteel barrier, and was satisfied when a gurgling cry rang out. “When I give the signal, take your exo-wings and run.”
The old engineer simply shook his head. “I didn’t baby you in a medical capsule for weeks so you could go get yourself killed like this. Besides, your father would be furious with me.” He held out his hand to her. “Give me one of the Wind Jammers, and I’ll cover your escape.”
“I can’t let you do that Orak. You’re invaluable to Airlandis, and I could never face Zarkan and Miriam knowing that I let you die here.” She gave him a steely look. “We’re going together, and that’s final.”
Orak simply sighed and nodded, knowing he wouldn’t win this argument. He pulled out one of the sonic welders and began to cut through the bottom of their plasteel barrier. Apex continued firing shots to give him time. They could use the deck plating as a shield to cover their escape.
When Orak had finished cutting through and attaching a small part of plasteel as a crude handle, he grabbed it and they both said “Maximize!” to activate the exo-wings. Slowly, slowly, they began to rise from the ground, with Apex firing shot after shot in a vain attempt to hold back their attackers. Once she made the mistake of looking over the barrier and almost had her head taken off by a well-placed lava gun barrage.
Still, she could see that the Dark Dramen had regrouped in larger numbers. Once they noticed Apex and Orak moving backwards behind their shield, the creatures gave war cries, unfurled their wings, and began flying toward the retreating pair.
Just as brutes were about to overtake them, however, a miracle flew in on purple wings. Apex let out a cheer as Wing Storm and Peak dove through, the dragon whipping his tail from side to side, taking out many of the attackers, and Peak picking off those who managed to make it through Stormy’s attack.
When the dust had settled and the Dark Dramen were either unconscious or fleeing in the opposite direction, Peak jumped off Wing Storm and flew to his sister, grabbing her in a tight hug.
“Pexy, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’d almost given you up…” he cried, tears pricking the corners of his blue eyes. Apex sniffed too and squeezed his arm affectionately, not trusting herself to words for the time being.
After long moments, Peak separated himself from Apex and hugged Orak too, much to the engineer’s supposed alarm and surprise. “Thank for keeping her safe, Orak,” Peak said.
“Ah, don’t mention it, kiddo,” Orak replied.
Apex scoffed. “Don’t let him get away with false modesty, Peak. He kept me hidden for weeks in a medical capsule while my injuries healed.”
“More injuries, sis?” Peak asked, concern in his voice. “Who did you run into during the escape?”
“Gangryn and a souped-up Brain Slave,” Apex answered. “But he’s dead, I think - vaporized by some weird energy reaction between his suit and the amber reactors.”
“Good riddance, then,” Peak replied.
Apex nodded. “Agreed, little brother, but right now we’ve got to get out of here,” she said, before explaining her and Orak’s plan to blow the turbines.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Peak asked. “There are a hundred dragonators out there distracting Dread’s forces while we Z’neth, Summit and I are trying to take back the city and turn its guns on Warnado.”
“Only half the Warp Cannons are even still working, Peak,” Orak replied. “I’ve checked them myself. So even if we did take back the city, it wouldn’t be able to stand up against Warnado. And I’d sooner lose the city than see Dread Wing use it against humanity.”
Peak sighed. “I see your point, even if I don’t like it. Better call this in.” He linked up to Aaron, Z’neth and Summit on his Vox Box and relayed the findings.
“Much as I hate to say this, I agree with Orak,” Aaron’s voice crackled through the Vox Box. “We can’t fight a war on two fronts, and this could be our chance to get rid of Dread Wing once and for all time.”
“Give us time, Father,” Apex heard Summit say through the Vox. “We can’t give up on the city so easily!”
“Why don’t we try both methods,” Z’neth said. “I want Apex to get Orak out of here - they’ve done more than enough at this point. Peak, take the charges and finish planting them on the turbine locations. Summit and I will confront Dread Wing, and if we fail, we blow the turbines.”
“Agreed,” Peak replied.
Apex looked less convinced. “As soon as Orak gets to safety aboard the Aristotle, I’m coming back in. No way am I letting my brothers confront Dread Wing without me.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, sis,” Summit said.
Aaron’s voice crackled through the Vox Box. “You have your orders, then. Good luck, Dragon Flyz.”