“We are approaching the Seeker outpost! I repeat, the Seeker outpost is near! All battle groups, prepare!”

The captain’s voice spurred an increase of action within the Vermana. Bhout pilots entered their crafts, climbing onto the wooden platform resting upon the float engine, and donning their helmets and goggles. Darah drivers climbed into the protective metal shells that were their vehicles, checking that all missiles were prepared. Technicians retreated into the Vermana, reporting to their stations, and preparing to give the dragonmares the signal to attack the Yelico Valley outpost; all but one. That man was Flomu. As he climbed atop the wooden platform resting on the float engine, the core of the Bhout, he placed Michima’s helmet and goggles upon his head. Besides protecting his eyesight from the wind, and, because of the storm outside, the rain he would encounter, they served a second purpose. Because the leaving of one’s post during war was illegal punishable by death, the helmet and goggles would protect his identity, for the most part. He wouldn’t pass a close inspection, but Flomu doubted anyone would take a good hard look at him in the heat of battle. Because Flomu worked alone in the Vermana, Michima would hardly come into contact with anyone else for the duration that their roles in the Empire were temporarily switched, so he was safe as far as being found out was concerned.

“Flomu,” Michima said. “I will see you after the battle.”

“I thank you once again for the chance to be part of the army.”

Michima bowed. “May the spirit of the Ancients watch over you.”

“May the Emperors guide you.”

And, with that, Michima retreated into the very innards of the Vermana. Michima was very intelligent, and Flomu did not doubt that he would be able to carry out the work of a technician.

Flomu looked around the launch bay and saw a mass of soldiers and pilots, ready to be flung into battle at the whim of the beloved captain. With the momentary pause in action, Flomu thought back to Michima’s words about the overall mission. They were to retrieve a girl. Why the Empire would be interested in such an objective, let alone send a whole armada to retrieve her, was still a mystery. Well, now that Flomu was a temporary pilot, it would seem that he would find out.

The bay doors opened as the captain’s deep voice reverberated through the cavernous hanger. “All escort bhouts must exit the Vermana now!”

Michima was an escort, which, in turn, meant that Flomu was an escort. As numerous bhouts took off and left the hanger, Flomu activated the float engine that kept the craft in the air. Looking like a white misshapen rock, with black veins running through, the float engine was just one of the many advancements gleamed from the Ancient Age. And, now, though it helped make the Empire rise, the float engine would now aid in making a Seeker outpost fall.

Flomu flew the bhout out the bay door, leaving many more bhouts and darahs within. He joined the battle cluster surrounding the Vermana, consisting of mainly bhouts and old age air ships. Moisture from the cloud they were passing through fogged Flomu’s goggles. A message reached Flomu through the bhout’s radio. The voice belonged to Evren.

“All units, you are to hold fire until the dragonmare squad and I make our attack. After we open fire, you are to attack on will. Decimate the Seekers, and the dragonmare squad shall retrieve the girl. For the glory of the Empire!”

Through the wind, a cheer was audible, emanating from the ships.

To Flomu’s side, the Vermana’s search lights went into action, beaming back and forth. Almost simultaneously, the Vermana, Flomu, and the rest of the battle group emerged from the clouds, and rain pattered upon Flomu’s head from the terrible storm. Flomu could only imagine the beautiful and formidable sight that would be the Vermana bursting from the very heavens. Here, the Seeker encampment was in view. It was a rather large town; highly developed and populated with many buildings and, in the center, the tower that Michima spoke of. As the encampment moved from 3 miles to 2 miles away, the dragonmare pod doors opened, creaking slowly as gears and cogs turned. The bars from which they slept slid out of the ship, hanging from the side. Technicians on the side of the Vermana waved luminescent scepters to tell the squad they were free to attack. Evren moved her head around, in the cavity in the dragonmare’s back, to see the scepters wave. As they did, Evren’s dragonmare awakened from its deep sleep and sprung to life, releasing the bar from his tail and diving into the wind with a terrible screech. By straightening its wings, the dragonmare caught wind and fluttered in the air, its talons hanging loose and its eyeless face held in a snarl. Already, Evren’s dragonmare’s oscillator was shining a faint green through its throat. In a matter of milliseconds, the rest of the dragonmare squad followed their leader’s actions and released their dragonmare’s from the resting bars, catching up with her.

Down on the ground, Flomu could see a whirl of action. Women and children ran for their lives as men took weapons to fight for their land and family. The dragonmares gracefully swooped down, spitting their acidic mucus, destroying establishments, and slaughtering the Seekers. As their attack began, the Vermana, Flomu, and the rest of the escort group arrived over the Seeker outpost. The dragonmares had attacked. Now it was Flomu’s turn. Taking the lead of the rest of the soldiers, Flomu dived into action. Flying about a hundred feet above ground level, Flomu unleashed the missiles stored in his Bhout. With explosive energy, the missiles launched from the square pod underneath the float engine. It was as if the Emperors’ of past years had joined, smiting the rebellious group with their very thoughts. Fellow pilots flew and shot men and women alike. The pure carnage was breathtaking.

The Seekers had turrets. They were primitive things that shot burning bottles filled with some explosive liquid. They yelled as they unleashed their weapons, sending the burning bottles into the air. Next to Flomu a Bhout, with its wooden platform, caught fire, killing the pilot, and sending it to the ground. Flomu stared at his fellow soldier, smoldering on the ground below. With anger burning in his very soul, Flomu unleashed a barrage of missiles at the turret. The poor Seekers operating the turret screamed at their fate as they were enveloped in an explosion that included Flomu’s missiles and the extra bottles stockpiled next to them. In the explosion, a nearby coolia stable was partially destroyed, sending the frightened beasts of burden into an all out stampede.

The darahs, hovering just a few inches off the ground, moved quickly along the dirt paths. They destroyed the search lights that the Seekers were using to find their attackers, and also took care of ground soldiers. Although the Seekers had guns, they helped little against the armored units. At the very worst, a small dent was created, and that was a badge of honor.

Flomu watched in a momentary lull in action as the dragonmares closed in on their target; the tower in the center of the outpost. The dragonmares swooped, crashing into the prison at the top of the tower. The room opened up, and the target was just barely visible to Flomu. The girl was small, and, though he was quite a bit far away, Flomu noted that she looked not older than 18. He could barely make out her short white hair, so he assumed his guess on age was a little off.

The dragonmares, however, did not give thought to her. All they wished for was the completion of the mission, and already one dragonmare’s oscillator was glowing green. It seemed obvious that the Academy did not need her alive to be useful, which only increased Flomu’s confusion. In fact, only the blur of a winged being took his mind off the girl and the Academy.

The blur was most likely a dragonmare, so he would not normally think anything of it. However, five dragonmares were at the tower, and a sixth had not yet been created. So, what was that winged figure that had sped Flomu’s bhout? The figure, aiming for the tower, suddenly shot beams of light, striking the dragonmares, who, caught by surprise, were blown away. They quickly dispersed, and the thing landed within the tower. Raising its blue wings, and raising its horned head, Flomu realized that this was a genuine dragon. Not an artificial dragon that paled in comparison to the real thing, but a live breathing dragon. The fact that he had employed the Arrows of Light upon the dragonmares, and even won to an effect, strengthened Flomu’s assumption. The dragon lowered its body as the girl climbed upon its back. The two escaped, flying away from the tower. The five dragonmares regained their senses from whence they scurried and followed, both wanting the target and thirsting for the blood of the being that challenged them.

On the radio, Flomu heard Evren’s voice say, “A dragon!? How interesting. All units prepare for attack!”

Flomu was not in the mood to challenge a creature brazen enough to attack one dragonmare, let alone five. Therefore, as the pursuit continued, Flomu moved in the opposite direction. Here’s where he drew the line; he was no pilot, and he was not skilled enough to kill a dragon. So, he decided to continue what he had been doing. However, on the ground, the battle had intensified. With the sight of the dragon, the Seekers gained confidence, morale, and strength. They were even brazen enough to attack the darahs, tossing explosives into the missile pod, and watching them explode. They now rode on their coolias, guns in hand. They were now up for a fight, and why not? After all, dragons were seen as good omens and bringers of hope among most tribes and Seekers. Flomu wished he could say the same for the Empire.

Although good luck in the tribes and Seekers of the world, dragons were considered bad omens and bringers of destruction in the Empire. It was most likely the one thing created in the Ancient Age that the Empire feared and hated the most. Dragons were created by the Ancients in factories not unlike the Cradle. Although flesh and blood, they were artificial, and were created through genetic research to be the ultimate war machine. The pure type monsters found in Ancient ruins, placed so to protect them from thieves and other trespassers, were created the same way. Dragons, however, were much more aggressive, stronger, and dangerous. Placed to protect the Towers, the dragons annihilated all who came near with their Arrows of Light, the lasers produced by the oscillator in their throats. And recently, in the past century, a dragon had caused a complete collapse of the Empire, a time known as the Great Fall. The dragon had plagued the Empire at other times, as well, whether it was destroying an archeologist team inspecting a tower, or being ridden by some rebellious demon who vied for the collapse of the Empire. And that was why they were praised by the Seekers and small tribes.

Could this dragon be the one that had plagued the Empire? Time would tell, but it did seem a little too convenient for a dragon that was not guarding an Ancient relic or shrine to randomly attack an Imperial squad and aid a target in escape. Just who was that girl? And why did the dragon save her? Was it possible that the dragon felt pity for the girl? Or was there a deeper reason? Flomu, with difficulty, forced the thoughts that had invaded his mind out of his head. He had a task to eliminate the Seekers. He was no hunter that killed pure-type and mutated monsters for sport and contracts. He was no dragon hunter, either. He was not even a soldier. Therefore, it seemed best for Flomu not to get involved in this matter. Surely the dragonmare unit could handle it.

The blast from the ground skimmed Flomu’s helmet. A Seeker had shot at him, and, since Flomu was so caught up in his thoughts, he did not evade the blast. The goggles and helmet fell uselessly at his feet. No matter. Although the rain had not let up, Flomu was still able to see, albeit with difficulty. There was suddenly chatter on the radio, “Damn it! She flew into the sewers! My dragonmare is too big to fit in. I cannot follow.”

Evren spoke, “Very well then. Bhouts have already been dispatched. Besides, there is a chance she will exit right under the Vermana. However, this is OUR assignment! We cannot allow others to destroy the plan. We are the ones who must bear the honor of completing the mission.”

The last part of the transmission made little sense. The message that was said would only make sense to the dragonmare unit. Why would they be saying that the only important units here were dragonmares on the open channel? Unless that message was not on the open channel, but the source was close. Flomu quickly glanced around and saw the squad about a meter away to his right. He went on, hoping they wouldn’t notice he was out of formation. Luck, however, abandoned him.

“You there,” Evren said. “Why are you out of formation? Do have an idea of what is going on!?”

Evren sped her dragonmare and flew in front of Flomu, facing him. The other dragonmares surrounded him, boxing him in. Evren stared at Flomu’s face as they all hovered in place. However, even with her sight enhancing equipment, it was doubtful that Evren would recognize him; not with the goggles and helmet securely on his head…

Flomu’s stomach lurched as he remembered the partially melted goggles and helmet on the floor of the bhout. His face was as protected as a wooden forest to fire.

“Ah, Flomu,” Evren said. “What have we here? As I remember, you are not a pilot. Conducting repairs on the Vermana from a bhout, are you?”

Sweat beaded upon Flomu’s forehead, mixing with the rain provided by the night sky above. This was not the best of scenarios, and, since he was caught, it would not be long before Michima would be found out, as well. Flomu had known better. He knew somehow that they would get caught, and yet he allowed his petty dignity to fling him into this mess to prove himself to a scornful woman. Now he had condemned him and his friend to an execution.

A radio transmission entered the scene with explosive force.

“This is the Vermana, calling all units within the vicinity! We are under attack by an airborne creature and are sustaining heavy damage! I repeat, we are under attack by an airborne creature being ridden by the target. We require immediate assistance!”

After a moment, the Vermana hailed the dragonmare squad, and Flomu could hear the message clearly, as the source was only a few meters away. “Vermana to dragonmare squad! The drone is here! The damned thing is riding what appears to be a dragon! We need immediate assistance!”

Things began to make sense when the Vermana captain had said the word “drone”. The girl that Flomu had thought was human was actually an Ancient Age monster, created in the likeness of man. Few had ever been seen, and even fewer had been actually studied. The Academy wanted the girl for experiments, perhaps to find out the means to create one of the creatures. In that way, the Empire would have the “key” for activating Ancient relics. However, as the thought of the drone opened up answers to Flomu, it also opened the gates to fear. Drones were known as dangerous beings, not to be trifled with. And, to make matters worse, the drones method of transportation was an accursed dragon. The matter could not get any worse.

“Captain, the Vermana…” one of the squad began.

“The Vermana can wait!” Evren answered. “It is an assault carrier against a single entity. I doubt the Vermana can be destroyed so easily. For now, we have to deal with this putrid man who has left his post on the Vermana, and that means that the man who he traded jobs with must also die. You are a liability, Flomu. For that, you must die here!”

Evren’s Dragonmare shot forth a mass of bubbling mucus. The acidic substance caught Flomu’s bhout on the float engine. The bhout rocked and whined as it fell apart in the night air, and as Flomu fell towards the earth, he prayed for a quick death. He was met, unfortunately, with searing pain shooting through his body.

Flomu considered lying wherever the hell he was until he died, but the burning sensation next to his arm was more than enough to spur him up. Struggling to his feet, he surveyed his surroundings and noticed that he had crashed through a small hut, and the roof had broken his fall, and possibly his back. Grimacing in pain, he noted that part of his bhout had followed him through the hole in the ceiling and lied in a burning pile. Fire began to spread to the hut walls, which quickly took.

As Flomu made his way to the nearby exit leading to the second hell of the battlefield, something caught his leg. Flomu stumbled and caught himself on a nearby table. He quickly glanced at the floor and found an arm sticking out from under the burning pile that had once been a Bhout. The hand reflexively twitched and slowly blackened as the fire took in new fuel. Blood surrounding the arm bubbled and simmered, releasing a horrid stench. Flomu clasped his hand to his lips, catching his vomit before it reached his mouth. A young voice burst open from the corer screaming, “PAPA!!” Flomu whirled around and looked at the far corner of the hut glimpsing a large group of women and children, huddling in fear from the intruder. The young girl looked wide-eyed at the arm under the burning ruble, while her mother held her back, covering her mouth. Now, all stared at Flomu, some with tears in their eyes. The boys frowned at him, grunting in anger.

This had been one of the huts where the women and children had fled from battle, and the man that the Bhout had killed had been dutifully guarding them. Somehow, Flomu felt pity for the whimpering mass in the corner.

Flomu glanced up through the hole in the ceiling and saw the dragonmares circling above the house. They had seen him land within and were no doubt about to obliterate the hut, along with the women and children. Flomu, glanced at the beings in the corner, and decided to draw the dragonmares away. He would not allow these people to be slaughtered, even if they were Seekers. The Empire could not kill women and children; it would ruin all that they stood for. Flomu turned to the whimpering group. “Stay,” he said calmly. “All will be fine. But you must be quick of extinguishing the fire spreading on the walls. Use some of the water in the basin, but do not venture outside.”

The women nodded, and Flomu ran out, yelling.

The dragonmares glimpsed Flomu and dove forth, spewing acid and tearing the pavement apart. The street was a maze of death and destruction; empty shells of darahs lay scattered, bodies imperial and Seeker alike cluttered the street, and buildings and watchtowers tumbled. Smoke clogged the night air, and fire raged. If there was truly a hell, it would be reminiscent of this.

Flomu needed speed. The dragonmares were closing in, and Flomu grabbed the closest thing he could find; a coolia. Coolias were two legged beasts of burden, and were the only mutated monsters Flomu could think of that were able to be domesticated. Luckily, the creature already had a saddle attached to its back, allowing Flomu to quickly hop atop its back and ride it through the nightmare of the battlefield. The coolia growled at its new rider, but its limited intelligence allowed it to quickly forget that it had never seen Flomu in its life.

With his new “vehicle”, Flomu moved as fast as the coolia would take him, moving through the destroyed town that the Seekers had spent so much time constructing. Flomu could only guess that, before the attack, the city had a smooth logical layout. Now, however, the city was a labyrinth of death and destruction. Some buildings had parts intact, and Flomu could not help but marvel at their design. The beauty was almost impossible, as these were not Imperial citizens, but rebel thieves. The Seekers had intellect, as portrayed by the surroundings. Surviving statues and monuments were laden with intricate design and purpose. There were music and book shops, now utterly destroyed, but a book or two had been salvaged by fate from the fire. It was mind blowing that these people could construct such buildings and create such intellectual goods when they did not have the technology of the Empire, and considering that their warriors certainly could not defend against an attack of mutated monsters, if such an event occurred.

Flomu had to return to the Vermana. It was the only location he could think of, and perhaps it would lead the dragonmares into defending it instead attacking him. In the back of his mind, Flomu realized this would do nothing in the long run. He would still be promptly executed when command found out what he had done.

The thoughts in his mind were promptly jammed to the back of his skull when his vantage point changed. He was no longer bouncing along on the ground; he was flying smoothly through the air. He could smell the sweet yet sour smell of the dragonmare mucus and realized that his coolia was now nothing more than blackened bones.

Finally landing just outside the town gate with a crash, Flomu was once again reminded that he was very much alive through a cracked rib in his chest. Perhaps he cracked two. Nevertheless, even his pain paled in comparison to the sight he now saw.

In the air was the Vermana. But fire, smoke, and explosions blossomed through it’s hull. And, there, fluttering gracefully amidst the chaos was the attacker itself. The dragon, with its Drone rider, attacked the great carrier with great force to rival the dragonmares. Opening it’s mouth, the dragon emitted lasers from its osculator, bright blue and deadly, aimed at the Vermana. From an engineer’s perspective, Flomu reckoned that the ship had little time left. The fact it was still flying with the amount of damage it sustained was amazing in itself. From what Flomu could see, the cockpit was burning, the hanger doors were utterly destroyed, the gas canisters were ruptured, the forward canons ravaged to the point they no longer fired, and the communications antennae was smoking from the top.

“Damn,” Flomu heard Everest scream. “The damned dragon is destroying the Vermana. We must aid it!”

Overhead, so close that if Flomu stood up his head would have been taken off, the dragonmares flew forward, intent on ending the catastrophe taking place.

The float engine cracked, and explosions emerged to the surface. The Vermana, without anything to aid in lift, fell quite quickly to the ground, secondary explosions still ravaging the carcass of the great carrier. It took Flomu only a minute, but the name escaped his lips in a strangled moan, “Michima!” Michima was dead, most likely, along with about 99% of the crew, if that one percent was lucky. Was it Flomu’s fault that Michima was now dead? Most likely. If Flomu had listened to his instincts and refused Michima’s favor, it would be Flomu that was dead, but he would have saved Michima from a grizzly fate.

The dragonmares paused for a moment, confused with the protocol for this current situation, then decided to pursue the dragon which had flown out of Flomu’s view. What would Flomu do now? He was a criminal, sentenced to death. He could never return to the Empire without a death wish in mind.

So, what would be his next move?