Out Of Space - Chapter 669: Anxiety

The Old World, UN FOB, Fort Anchorage

Saphia was pacing up and down the side of the runway where the three UN airships were parked. After every few steps, she would stop and look over at the work crew that was still moving stacks of crates and other things onboard the airships before she let out a sigh and resumed her pacing. The hard rock beneath her claws was slowly being worn out by her relentless pacing.

Finally, a small wagon came rolling over and a person whose height barely reached her shoulders yelled at her and shooed her off. Saphia bit her lips and made her way sadly off to one of the hangars where Rastraz was curled up asleep. She stared at the sleeping red dragon and sighed, unable to remain so calm and carefree when the thought of her home was being invaded.

There was a mighty flapping of wings and Saphia looked up to see Blue Thunder carrying his two dragonlings came to a hover and landed right before her. The huge dragon gave a grin as he lowered his back to allow the twins on his back to scamper off his back, “Hello! Looks like the loading of the airships is going on well!”

“Too slow!” Saphia complained as she picked up the twins who came running over to hug her. “We should have left yesterday!”

“Well, that doesn’t seem like a good idea…” Blue Thunder frowned as he gestured a claw to the airships. “It’s going to be a very long and dangerous flight… And we need supplies for the whole trip…”

“It will be hard to forage and hunt for food and in fact increase our travel time if we stop to do so!” Blue Thunder spoke with an air of a professional. He gestured once more to the airships and said, “So all those supplies are just for us! If without those supplies, we will take even a much longer time to reach your home!”

“I… know…” Saphia sighed once more as she hugged the giggling twins. “I just… want to do something! Just sitting around doing nothing is… making me anxious!”

“Don’t worry!” Blue Thunder reached out with his wing and gave Saphia a pat on her head. “By tomorrow, the airships will be ready for departure!”

“Ahem!” Rastraz cracked an eye open and cleared her throat. “Kids! Come here!”

“Mommy!” The twins screeched happily and they scamper across the tarmac into the hangar where they threw themselves into the arms of Rastraz. “Mommy!”

Both the dragonlings had surprisingly grown up very fast in just a few days and even learnt a few words. The two dragonlings whose wings were still undeveloped was now almost the size of an adult Terran lion. Rastraz came out of the hangar with both dragonlings dangling off her sides as they tried to climb up her back using the spikes on her body. “Go help them load the airships if you think you are doing nothing!”

“But…” Saphia looked down at her claws before she gave a nod and she hurried off towards the runway where the airships were parked.

“Do you have to be so harsh on her?” Blue Thunder glanced at the back of the black dragon running enthusiastically to help the surprised ground crew with the loading of supplies. “She is still a child.”

“Hmph!” Rastraz snorted as she sat next to Blue Thunder and watched Saphia get in the way of the horrified workers and grumbled. “You two are getting too close!”

“But we are good friends! Family!” Blue Thunder replied as he gave Rastraz a pat on her head too. “She’s alone… Just like when I first met you…”

Rastraz shook her head and she turned away from Blue Thunder and waddled back into the hangar with the twins. “Call me when it’s time to depart!”

Blue Thunder broke into a smile as he watch Rastraz disappear into the hangar before he turned around and lumbered over to the runway to help Saphia, much to the further annoyance of the ground crew.

—–

“Will the risks be too high if we choose this path?” Magister Thorn raised out his thoughts as the route of their journey was being discussed. “We will be crossing dangerously close to the border of the Protectorate.”

“We can choose a longer route which will bypass the borders of the Protectorate,” Trism replied as he highlighted another colored track on the map. “But this will add an additional one month to our journey.”

“One month?” Professor Hamlot shook his head. “The Domain of the Dragon might have fallen by than…”

“Or they will continue to hold their own against the Protectorate as they did for centuries…” said Trism. “Either way, it’s either take risks to reduce our travel time or play it safe and take a longer route.”

“Do we know how the war is progressing?” Magister Thorn asked. “Is the Protectorate winning or?”

“At this moment, what we know is that there isn’t much change to the front lines,” Trism replied. “Our intel only comes from the mainland and is not exactly up to date. We do not have real time intelligence in the Old World… yet…”

“Hmm, so should we take the risk and attempt to cross the lands of the Cartel and Iron Kingdom that is embroiled in war or take a longer route?” Magister Thorn asked once more. “An additional one month of travel would really have a large effect on our mission.”

“We can push through any blockades easily, as long as the numbers are not overwhelmingly against us,” Trism replied. “The Old Ugly and the two Icarus airships have enough firepower to destroy ten, twenty times their numbers if their level of weapons is what we encountered before.”

“The other problem we would face, is resupply…” Trism tapped on the map on the table. “The Old Ugly and even the Icaruses would require replenishment of fuel, fresh water and even food after a month of hard travel. They can only carry so much in their holds…”

“Can we resupply in the Iron Kingdom?” Magister Thorn gestured to the map. “We still have friendly relations with Prince Herod.”

“Ah… That is if Prince Herod is still in power,” Trism said. “We do not know the current political situation within the Iron Kingdom… So there could be a chance that he was disposed from his position. If that is the case, we might face some issues.”

“Even so, we will need to pass through the Iron Kingdoms,” Magister Thorn sighed. “At the most, we can make use of the chaos between the Protectorate and the Iron Kingdom to get through?”

“But it still doesn’t solve our resupply issues…” Trism said. “Unless we get a wing ship to drop supplies for us along our route?”

“It could work,” James Bone, CO of the Marines contingent remaining behind, suddenly spoke from the corner of the room. “Just that we need to have those supplies dropped in unpopulated areas. Or my boys can move in to secure the area and we can wait for the supplies to be airdropped in.”

“Alright, I guess we can settle with our supply problems with these ways,” Trism said. “If we can resupply with the locals, we will do so, if not we will have to call in a wing ship to drop supplies for us.”

—–

Loose Confederation

A large fragment of land was floating over the sea and chains were extended out from all sides that connected to smaller isles around the floating landmass. Dozens of colourful airships buzzed around the skies and upon closer inspection, the chains covered in a multitude of colourful banners and flags acted as a tether were actually massive bridges linking the floating island to the smaller islands.

Hundreds of wagons and countless people were making their way up the link bridges, where the Upper Executives of the Loose Confederation both reside and make nationwide decisions. The Floating Capital of the Confederation was the seat of power for the Loose Confederation and also the home of dozens of minor races.

Sited in the centre of the floating landmass was a white cathedral covered in a riot of bright coloured banners and flags. Under the sun, the cathedral looked like a child’s drawing, as it was surrounded by a wide field of blooming flowers and a circular moat covered with water lily like aqua plants. Connected to the cathedral were four white arching bridges similarly covered with fluttering banners and flags.

Inside the top most level of the cathedral, a meeting involving the Upper Executives of the Confederation were going on. Each faction of the Confederation was dressed in their own colours, making the atrium forum looking like an art festival than a high level conference. Despite the festive display of colours, the faces of the gathered Executives were grim and dark as they listened to the speaker at the head of the forum addressing everyone.

“Both the Protectorate and the Tri State has broken the peace! Peace that we had for the past twenty years!” The speaker wearing a set of yellow court dress said. “Who knows if the Suugons will act?”

“There has been no peace at all!” Another Executive dressed in blue yelled. “We have been fending off attacks from those bastards since our great grand parents time!”

“Regardless!” The speaker in yellow continued on unfazed by interruption, “We should send tribute to the Suugons for peace!”

“Tribute?” The gathered Executives except for those in yellow were outraged by the suggestion. They started booing the speaker and some even threw pieces of fruit smuggled in. The speaker in yellow ducked from the missiles and quickly hurried away under the booing and laughter of the rest.

Another speaker came fore, this time wearing green robes. The new speaker was short, clearly a dwarvan and he needed a chair to stand so that he could look over the podium. “We should send help to the Cartel instead of sending… tribute to the damned Suugons!”

“If the Cartel falls… Those cursed law loving fanatics will surely come for us next!” The green robed dwarvan declared. “You all know how much they hate us!”

This time, mumbles of agreement broke out from the Executives in the forum as they discussed among themselves. The dwarvan speaker continued on, “My colleagues and I believe that the Suugons would be too focused with the Tri State and the Iron Kingdom to bother with us.”

Calls of jeering came from those in yellow as they made their displeasure known. As the dwarvan’s face darkened, the doors to the forum suddenly swung open and a beastman in the uniform of the Confederation came rushing in. The beastman came to a halt before the forum and gave a quick saluted before he read the message in his trembling hands, “T- The Dragon Lords are under attack by Protectorate forces! This news is three days old!”

The news shocked the Executives as they stared at each other dumbly at each other before all hell broke lose. People started yelling at each other in panic while others rushed to the exit to call their aides over to verify the news. The dwarvan speaker at the podium cursed as he banged the wooden surface of the podium, calling the forum to order.

“Calm down! CALM DOWN!” The dwarvan yelled over the noise but no one bothered about him. He let out a tired sigh as he stepped down from the chair and headed back to his faction who were also made anxious by the news.

“The Dragons has been our staunch ally for centuries…” The dwarvan mumbled to himself. “With them under siege… The damned Protectorate must be planning to wiped us all out!”

“Call our people to be ready for war!” The dwarvan said to the rest. “This war is something we might not have a choice to avoid in anyway! We must be prepared!”