The sun was dangerously close to the horizon by the time Hiccup finally made it back to Málm Lagið, slipping through the small hidden entrance beneath a railway support and away from prying eyes. Light flashed through the metal grates of the small tunnel and her footsteps echoed hollowly and she strode lightly through the maze. It was little more than a service access for some of the lower level wiring conduits but it more than served her purposed of entering and exiting the tower unseen. The tunnel twisted and turned for a little longer until she arrived at a larger sheet metal chute that ran straight up to the top of the tower. She stepped into the little metal cage and pulled a heavy lever, which gave out protesting creaks and clanks until with a resigned thunk, the cage jerked to life and began its ascent.
Light flashed in and out as she rose past the first few stories of machinery rooms and massive power converters. She watched as she glided up past the Heart again, relishing the deep pounding of the titanic gears. Her vision was once again blocked off as she entered another sheet metal section of the chute signaling she was nearing her destination. She shoved her weight against the old lever and with a few more ominous groans, the lift ground to a stop.
Hiccup stepped out onto the service platform and made her way back towards the main corridors that were uncharacteristically quiet. Though, with over half the tower's residents preparing for the upcoming convoy, it was to be expected.
She dropped off her newly acquired materials and slowly walked towards her dormitory, wondering if her father would still be home or if he had already left to ready the convoy. She kind of hoped it was the latter as she didn't really want to face his wrath for being out so late. Alas, her hopes were ill founded.
The heavy iron door slid open making hardly a sound, much in contrast to the crudely maintained inner workings and service areas of the tower. For a moment, she thought the large dorm she shared with her father was empty as only a few lanterns were lit. But after another quick scan of the room, her gaze startled to a stop on the large figure currently adjusting the furnace at the far end of the room.
Sssshhiiii … she whispered in her head as she closed the door quietly and locked eyes on the metal rung ladder that led to her loft. She was half way to being home free when she kicked a loose bolt that was lying on the floor, which bounced off the ladder, then the wall, then the floor a few more times, and rolled with a final laughter-like clatter at her father's feet.
"Haha…uh, hey dad…" Hiccup laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck as she lifted her gaze to her father's eyes.
"You're home rather late," Stoick spoke distractedly, as though he had something else on his mind, and there was something else in his expression that Hiccup almost mistook for nervousness. But that was impossible, Stoick the Vast was never nervous.
"Oh, uh yeah. I just got kind of side-tracked and uh…" she trailed off when she realized her father wasn't really listening, as usual.
"I need to speak with you, dear," he clasped his hands in front of him and his face betrayed a hint of excitement…and was that…pride?
Hiccup's mind flashed back to her conversation with Gobber that morning, and her heart skipped a beat or two. She didn't dare get her hopes up as she stood stock still, waiting for her father to continue.
"You get your wish." Her heart stopped. No way. "Dragon training. You start in the morning."
Hiccup's face paled. No no, she couldn't have heard him right. That wasn't... She didn't want to fight dragons! She just wanted to fly, maybe be an aerial strategist or flight coordinator. She didn't actually want to fight. She thought her father understood that, it had been one of her strategies in trying to convince him to let her into training; on the premise that she would not actually be in harm's way.
"Dragon training?!" She said incredulously. "I think there must have been some misunderstanding. I wanted to enter pilot training..."
"You'll need this," Stoick ignored his daughter's protests as he dropped a very heavy laser rifle into her arms.
She grunted. "Wha-oof - I mean. Uhm, don't you think we have enough dragon fighting pilots?" She tried to keep the gun from dropping onto her toes, which would hurt despite her steel-toed boots. "I was thinking, do we have enough strategical assist pilots or, uh, recon pilots…" Hell, she'd even take passenger carrier to dragon fighter. Her father laughed like she had just made a rather fantastic joke, his head tipping up in amusement. "Oh boy," Hiccup whispered, seeing that her father clearly wasn't going to take her seriously.
"You can never have too many dragon fighters. You'll do great," her father beamed down at her, completely ignorant of the horrified expression frozen on her face. He straightened her shoulders and readjusted the hefty weapon before turning to retrieve his pack.
"B-b-but, I don't want to fight dragons," Hiccup pleaded.
"What? Yes, you do," Stoick, again, did not listen.
"Rephrase: Dad, I said I wanted to be a PILOT, not a dragon fighter."
"Same difference."
"No, no. Big Difference. Are you even listening to me?!"
"It's time Hiccup. I thought you'd be happy about this?"
"You're really not listening, are you?"
"Pilot training doesn't start for another month, this is a good stepping stone. If you do eventually become a pilot, you'll have a duty to protect this city, and that includes killing dragons. You'll meet Gobber and the other recruits in the west hall of floor 15 after sunrise. I expect you to train hard and make me proud. Do we have a deal?" Hiccup didn't respond, not that Stoick would have heard her anyway. Her father took her silence as agreement and patted her head. "Good lass." He turned and retrieved his dark green traveling pack that he always took on searches. "I'll be back…Probably."
Hiccup watched her father leave, the door sliding shut soundlessly behind him. She was left in a rather disappointing cloud of silence as she stared at the closed door.
"And I'll be here…maybe." She let the rifle slip from her grasp and land with a thud next to her feet. She doubted she even would have felt it had it landed on her toes, she felt so numb.
Auburn lantern light flickered across her pale freckled face as she stood frozen in thought for a long while. Eventually the light that filtered in through the large wall window died with the setting sun and she was shaken from her thoughts as a lantern died as well. Hiccup sighed and turned off the remaining lanterns and retreated to her loft, leaving the weapon in the middle of the room.
Her loft was not very large, hardly enough to accommodate her and a few blankets, but with the bubble-like window that was the east wall bowing out into the night sky, it felt much bigger. She didn't even bother to change from her grease stained green blouse or her brown leggings. Her steel-toed leather boots and leather vest were tossed over the edge and she dragged herself under the covers.
As Hiccup gazed out at the quickly darkening night sky, she felt her mind drifting into the uneasy void that it sometimes entered after 'conversations' with her father. Instead, she turned her thoughts to the Night Fury. It was a welcome distraction from her other issues, and she let her mind chase the shadow through the night sky.
Its antics confused her. While the destruction it wrought was catastrophic, she couldn't help but believe that it was only a fraction of its true potential. But whether the dragon was going easy on them out of pity, mercy, or if it was just toying with them, she couldn't be sure. It felt like a game, he would send back a damaged plane back to her and wait for the next challenge to be sent his way. He was testing the waters, testing her strength and countering with strategic strikes. It was like a game of chess and he was the black queen, capable of so much yet rarely showing it's true power. She herself felt like a castle, trapped until her path was cleared by others, capable of only limited movements. And then there was Artemus. He was the only reason she was able to play the game to begin with. He was her wings. Speaking of which, she should really talk with him regarding the previous raid next chance she got, that was if he wasn't going on the convoy as well. Never the less, she was not one to turn down a game of wit and strategy, and Hiccup accepted the silent challenge as she stared out at the dark sky.
She would play his game, and she would win.
She had played her move during the raid that day. It was his move. What would he do?
…
The Night Fury hummed curiously as he rested on a west facing cliff in the mountains. The raid that morning had mostly been a success, but that fighter pilot had returned. The one in the bronze platted plane. He was a skilled fighter and provided a welcome challenge to the mighty dragon, but something had felt off about their fights. Something had felt off for quite some time and warranted his attention. The dark dragon had noticed quite a while ago that very few planes could take a direct hit of his plasma blasts, and he had taken many planes down rather easily though he had not been trying to. He would strike the hull and side instead of the wings and tails, it was more than enough.
But the gold plane was much stronger.
And was being repaired every time.
It was the one plane that returned to every battle. And every battle, it would seek him out. After a blast to the wings, during the following raid, he noticed that the wings had been reinforced with latticed iron and steel, as had the tail and rudder.
Someone was countering his attacks. Someone had analyzed his fire power and predicted his strike pattern, and prepared this plane accordingly. It obviously wasn't the pilot himself, as his strategies during each fight remained unchanging for the most part, but would alter next time. No, the pilot had a strategist who would analyze each fight and coach him on how to prepare for the next one.
He was almost impressed. It wasn't just anyone who could keep up with a Night Fury, mentally or physically, and this strategist clearly could, mentally at least. The pilot was the physical. The pawn.
The Night Fury smirked. So it was a game.
He glanced back at the twinkling lights of the citadel and his smirk widened to a sly smile and he silently accepted the Strategist's unspoken challenge.
He would play their game, and he would win.
He watched as a single orange light flickered from the inside of a small glass bubble protruding the east side of the Citadel's center tower. A tiny shadow shifted and the light faded. But even after the glow had gone, the Night Fury still watched the dome absentmindedly. The strategist had made their move with their Gold Wing fighter during the raid that morning. It was his move.
What to do, what to do...
But perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. Where were his manners? He had yet to even introduce himself to his adversary. Yes, it was time this pawn met the White Queen.
.:~:.~.:~:.~.:~:.~
So they both think of each other as the enemy queen, and think of themselves as lesser pieces, which is important. But what are they really? If anyone is unfamiliar with chess, which i'm basing a lot of the plot off of, i suggest you look it up. The queen is capable of any action that the other pieces are, except the Knight, which can jump over pieces in an L shape. Castles (what Hiccup thinks she is) are positioned in the corners of the board at the start of the game and are generally not deployed until later, but sometimes stay behind to protect the King. King can only move one space in any direction, but it creates kind of a protective dome around him (Wink wink). Bishops can move diagonally but one bishop on each side is confined to either black or white tiles, (it's just how they are) which makes them rather easy to avoid but also easy to forget about (to me at least). Pawns can only move forward, one or two spaces on their first jump, but only one space at a time for the rest of the game, and cannot move backwards, making retreat impossible. They capture pieces that are diagonal to them and if they make it all the way across the board, they can become any piece and gain its abilities, assuming it isn't captured immediately. Pawns are also (somewhat unwisely) used as bait or decoys, resulting in the capture of quite a few. (I always make sure my pieces never 'die' in vain, and avenge their deaths with the capture of their murders. I'm weird when i play chess, always imagining a real battle, which i guess is where this story came from.)
Have fun figuring out who is what piece, i know i will.
Responses to reviews. I had to translate a french review so i'm not entirely sure what you were asking about ground troops, but they use ground troops to convoy through the mountains because it's practically impassable with their current planes. They uses tanks and steam powered trucks, which usually end up at Raven's Point. Most air forces are trained as ground units as well, hence why half the Tower is empty of personnel but some need to stay to defend the city.
Other response. Airships... yes, but not yet. Big plan for an airship, i hope you like it.