Hello all! Chapter 3 is up and ready! I hope you enjoyed the first two, and will like this on. On to the story!
Terra Atmosia is the current capital of the Free Atmos and a shining beacon in the darkness that surrounded them. When the Empire declared war on the rest of the world, the Terras were scattered, divided by past encounters and grudges. It took a full invasion by Cyclonia to gather them into a loose alliance to face the threat, but it was Lightning Strike of the Storm Hawks that led them on the first counter offensive of the war and then into Cyclonia itself. If not for the traitor amongst them, the Free Atmos would have won the war and Cyclonia would have fallen.
Ten years later, the new Storm Hawks were now trying to finish their predecessors' work and rid Atmos of the Empire for good. At least they would if they could find them. For the past two days, not a single Cyclonian had been seen in any offensive capacity, and it had all the kingdoms nervous. With the brief pause in the fighting, Atmosia called the leaders of the individual squadrons to the council chambers in hopes of finding out the reason for their enemy's strange behavior. Unfortunately, none knew anything.
"We haven't gathered much information." The one currently speaking was Suzi-Lu, the Sky Knight of Blizzaris and the Absolute Zeros. Like all Blizarrians, she was covered head-to-toe in thick fur to protect them from the harsh cold there. Her magenta hair and ears swung around with her head as her jade green eyes gazed at her fellow Sky Knights and the Council in the chambers, "There were three destroyers closing in on the border, then they just turned tail and left. We haven't seen any since."
"Yes," spoke the head councilor, "These same reports have all been said by all Sky Knights present or by any civilian shipping that was nearby; the Cyclonians are simply ignoring or staying away from everyone, which begs the question; why?"
"I think we can help you answer that, councilman," a new voice echoed in the halls. Those gathered turned their attention to a young, red haired youth whose green eyes danced along the faces of the Knights assembled, recognition flashing upon his face at most individuals, but his attention remaining on the councilors. "Councilors," he greeted, who nodded in response, "Starling."
"Hello Aerrow," the sole Interceptor greeted in-kind, "I wondered when you would get here."
Aerrow gave a small grin at her words, "Took a small detour by the Cyclonian border for some recon. Got within 5 Standard Units, close enough for a small peak."
A well dressed gentleman in golden armor cleared his throat to gain their attention as he stood, "My apologies for interrupting, but would you be gracious enough as to introduce yourself?"
Aerrow straightened his posture at the older man's words and looked him in the eyes, "Aerrow Strike, Sky Knight and leader of the Storm Hawks." The room erupted into mutterings at his claim of being a Sky Knight and leading the famous Storm Hawks squadron. They had heard rumors of the team being remade, but had dismissed them as idle chatter and hearsay, "Hard to believe, I know. I could hardly believe it when I was told, but that is for another time. My team and I managed to get close enough to the border for a small recon mission. We waited for hours before two ships left Cyclonian airspace on a direct course for Terra Atmosia."
The Knights delved into muttering amongst themselves at the news while the Council waited patiently for them to calm down enough to continue, "Were you able to identify the ships?"
"Only one," answered the teen, "One of them was the Beautiful Perfection, flagship of Ravess. The other was unknown, but it had fewer cannons than the standard destroyer and it looked less likely to be a frontline warship, possibly a command and control vessel."
"And they are heading this way," muttered Starling. "It's too small to be an invasion force. And even then, why target only one Terra to attack and why so few ships? It makes no sense."
"No," agreed a councilor. "It does not. Do we have their current location," he asked Aerrow directly.
"My team is currently following them from a distance. They'll inform us when the ships reach-," a sharp beeping stopped him mid sentence. He placed his hands in his pocket and withdrew a handheld radio that was calling for his attention. He had a call to take, "That must be them now."
He turned on the machine and a young, female voice burst through the static for all to hear, "Aerrow? Aerrow, are you there? It's Piper."
"I'm here. What do you have?"
"The Cyclonians have reached the halfway point," she said. "They'll reach Terra Atmosia in two hours, but that's not all. We discovered five other ships shadowing them. They seem to be Cyclonian, but we're not picking up any… What the-! Are you guys seeing this?!"
"Piper," Aerrow called into the receiver, "what's going on? What's wrong?"
Piper's voice was distorted by static, obscuring what she said, before it cleared and they heard her clearly, "-the ships! Repeat, the five Cyclonian vessels have begun firing on Ravess' ship and the unknown!"
The crackling of the radio was all any heard in the hall.
Tempest Raven: Five minutes earlier
Two days since she had made her decision, two days since she ordered a cease fire with the Free Atmos, and three hours since her departure from Cyclonia. That entire time, and she was still unnerved by the possible reactions of the rest of Atmos to her proposal. It was ironic really. She had led her soldiers, her empire, into a war that shrouded the known Atmos in pain, loss, and devastation, all the while not showing a hint of fear, but she was afraid of what her counterparts would say or do when she arrived. "Probably call in every squadron they could," she mumbled.
"Master, did you say something?" Lark turned sharply to her right to see the blonde hair and scarred face Richard Connings, her ship's captain and second-in-command when she was there. He was a strong man, not in body but in mind. His tactical genius was key in several engagements before she ascended the throne and he continued to prove himself even after. Connings was respected by all he served with and his crew was fiercely loyal to him. They would follow him into the deepest valley and to the highest peaks without question or hesitation. They would die for him if they were asked to. She found herself jealous of such devotion, wishing that more of her own soldiers were just as devoted, but she could hardly blame them. She wasn't as inspiring as her veteran commanders, or as experienced. Lark had power, but not the experience to apply it fully and for that, Cyclonia had begun to lose the war with ever engagement. It had to change. It had to.
"No, Captain. Just thinking aloud," she answered.
"About what," he pressed further.
Lark let loose a sigh of frustration, turning towards the window again and peering into the distance, "I was thinking about how the Atmosian Council would respond to our requests for peace." Connings nodded in understanding, but said nothing, "I am afraid that they may reject the idea of us being genuine…," she suddenly trailed off from her musings. The nearby crew turned slightly from their stations, curious of their superiors' conversation, "I want this war to end, Captain. Over a week ago, I infiltrated the Storm Hawks in a vain attempt to destroy them and turn one of their own to our side. In that one day, I found something I had lost… happiness." The crew and captain were starring at her back now, waiting for her to continue in silence, "I gained friends, something I haven't had in years, and I learned of the affects our actions caused during this war. The pain we once felt was trust onto others. Our fear and hatred became theirs. We became the monsters, and they the heroes, and it was all thanks to us." She turned to them all, her eyes filled with a determination that they had only seen on a few occasions, "I want to end this war and return things to the way they were. To when we were respected and our people were spoken of with reverence and not with fear or scorn. I want the old Cyclonia back."
"But, are we not strong now," asked the veteran. "Are we not respected?"
Her eyes hardened at his words, "We are feared, not respected. We have a large Empire, but we are week. I want to change that. We need to change, or be destroyed and forever lost to time."
None moved or spoke as their leader's words echoed through the bridge and their minds. They simply starred at her and stayed silent. Lark soon began to shift at the uncomfortable silence and started to find the floor interesting when a sharp sound was heard, then more and more until it was a roar in the silence. She looked up to see the entire command crew applauding her, smiles broad upon their lips. Even Richard was clapping. The loudness soon died down and her second approached her, "That was well said. We had all hoped for an end to the fighting, and now we may finally see it. Thank you, Master. Thank you."
Similar words echoed his and the air became more vibrant with the collective emotions. A small smile spread upon her lips at the scene, but the attention of all was drawn to a nearby console crying out for attention. The soldier at the console hurriedly scanned it before turning to them, "Empress, there are five airships approaching us from astern. They will overtake us in one minute."
The captain set into action, barking orders left and right as he tried to gain any information he could. The ships were quickly identified as Cyclonian Destroyers, the markings describing them as ships attached to the Second Assault Flotilla, which was currently stationed at a base on the border. "What are they doing here and why hadn't we detected them," Lark heard him mutter, "Hail them!"
"I've been trying sir," called the coms officer, "but they haven't responded. They're either ignoring us or their communications are down.
"They're ignoring us," answered a voice behind her. She turned to find a woman with a pale complexion and dark green hair boring into a scope. "I'm not seeing any signs of damage on their outer hull. Their communications array also seems to be funct-."
The ship rocked violently with the sound of thunder and tearing metal assaulting their ears. More soon followed and flashes of red could be glimpsed from the large windows of the bridge. The internal com was alive with the crew's calls, but they were surprisingly calm in the chaos of the situation. As more and more reports piled up, Connings turned to the ship's bow and called out for all to hear, "Bring us about. Raise the shields and power all weapons. Contact the Perfection and tell her to cover us as we advance."
Affirmatives echoed the bridge as the crew set to their tasks. The view turned sharply, almost blurring, until the five attackers came in sight. Their ships were in a V-like formation, with the two rear ships hanging back and slightly raised above the others, cannons flaring red with every shot, firing in perfect cohesion and unity, but they were strangely enough not sending any of their shots at the Perfection, only the Raven, only at her. Richard barked out orders once again and the ship responded with fervor she hadn't seen anywhere else. The cannons thundered and red energy flew like angles of death towards their attackers. She would have to award the gunners as their aim was spot on. The right-most ship lost half of its engines in the first volley, with Ravess' own taking the rest. The next one struck the bridge of the center destroyer, which immediately began to plummet to the wastelands below.
"Two ships destroyed, Captain. The others have begun a retreating action, but are not turning from us. They may intend to strike again."
The captain glared daggers at the three survivors, "Then let's be sure to greet them when they come back. I need a full damage report! How bad were we hit?"
Lark listened raptly at each word said. They had lost three of their cannons, their port engines were shot off, and have taken moderate to severe damage all along their hull. Casualties were flooding the medical bay and the crystal core was under a lot of strain just keeping them in the air. They wouldn't survive the next battle. Ravess' ship was the exact opposite. They had taken only light damage. It had the gears of Lark's mind turning at a furious pace. The Tempest Raven was not a special ship, a modified Destroyer with fewer weapons and more communication and sensor equipment as well as a war room in the center, but even then, there wasn't anything of significant value. Nothing other than her!
"I'm the target." The words were barely heard above the drone of the ship, but they heard her none the less. "I'm the target," she said louder, "there is nothing on this ship of any significant value other than me. Ravess' ship was almost completely ignored, but we were not. They focused on us, a lightly armed command ship instead of a more heavily armed combat vessel."
"It explains a lot," the pale officer muttered, "but it doesn't explain why? They are Cyclonian, as we are, and all ships were ordered to return to our territory and await further orders. Why are they attacking us?"
Connings snapped his head at Cyclonis, "The peace delegation. Someone in the Empire wants you to not reach your destination. They don't want you to succeed. The question is who?"
"Well, we're going to have to figure it out later," called out the helmsman. "Those destroyers are coming back."
True to his words, the three hulking shapes of their assailants loomed towards them, their cannons glowing with deadly intent. The crew could be heard muttering prayers or starring in silence at the battle that was to come. Cyclonis couldn't help but say a few herself, "Ancestors, help us."
That's a wrap! I hope you all liked it and as always, have a good day/night!