Hello everyone! Well, summer is nearing its end and soon it will be autumn. This year has really flown by hasn't it? It seems like only yesterday I was using a blowtorch to defrost my truck (don't ask) and now I've got two old fans blowing to get some cool air around here.
To be honest I handle the cold much better than heat.
Sorry for the change in title but otherwise I'd still be typing until the cows came home.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 12: The Lost Lair Part 1
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Bertram stood with Josh, Reyson, Sahne, and Kani as the naval transports that had joined the fleet began unloading their cargo. There were soldiers, of course, from the Syllian 33rd Infantry as well as a few units from the 458th Royal Engineers and most importantly were tanks from the 21st, 22nd, and 56th Armored Regiments. There was even a few units from the 412th Armored Assault Force, also known as the Iron Legion.
Near the port, the surviving Praetorian aerial transports had landed safely and were off-loading their paratroopers and their equipment as well. All in all, the combined units of Praetoria and Syllia made quite the impressive sight. As Bertram turned to his brother, Ryu arrived in a hurried fashion to see his uncles.
He was in such a hurry, he plowed right into Reyson who fell backwards and landed on Josh's sea chest. Reyson rose a moment later and shook his head.
"Anyone get the number of that truck?" He then noticed Ryu, in dragon form, and chuckled.
"Figures. You de Launces brood, always in a rush." Ryu said nothing but looked at Josh and Bertram.
"Uncle Josh, Uncle Bertram, Mom needs to see you two right away. Something happened to Grandma Cynder in the battle. That gnorc, Gnasty, cast a spell which froze her in crystal. Please come!"
Needless to say Ryu had their attention and soon the whole group was running down the main street of Warfang towards Thera and Ignitus' home where Cynder had been placed and Spyro had been staying. Upon entering, both Josh and Bertram were embraced in a dragon version of a bear hug by their older sister who was glad to see them arrived safe. Bertram managed to break away from his sister and chuckled as Josh struggled in her grasp.
"Heh, sis? I think you may break the good Commander if you embrace him any tighter." Thera looked to Josh who was between trying to breathe and about to burst out laughing at Bertram's remark. Setting him down, Thera led them to the main room where Spyro and Ignitus were, along with a crystalized Cynder. Upon seeing Cynder, both Bertram and Josh got serious and looked her over. Josh nodded as he examined her.
"Is she consious? I...uh...Is she even alive in there?" Thera nodded and Ignitus looked to his dad who just managed to suppress a shudder. Thera then looked at a blue crystal.
"I spoke with Malefor in the Spirit Realm, he assures me she is alive and consious. She can hear us, sense us, but cannot speak. He also said the only way to break the curse is to find the counterspell or defeat the one who cast the spell in the first place." Pyre came in along with Shimmer who overheard and sighed.
"You can rule out attacking Gnasty. Now that we know Rotiart and Damoneni are both down here and aiding the gnorcs, you can bet your tails Gnasty is under some heavy protection from not just his gnorcs but also his allies. They know that with Cynder down, Spyro is a loose cannon...er...sorry Spyro but it had to be said. While on the subject of counterspells, we've been combing through the archives again for any mention of this 'Tomar the Wise' and found several references but no solid leads. According to Volteer, all the old records dating back to that time were destroyed after the Night of Eternal Darkness all those years ago." Josh sighed and then looked at Pyre.
"Do we know anything about Tomar?" Pyre chuckled dryly and nodded.
"Yes, but only the basics of any lore about him. We know he was the thirty-seventh child of a dragon noble who fervently believed in the ancient dragon rites of taking more than one mate. He was layed and hatched by the nineth dragoness of the noble's harem and apparently showed great potential at a young age and as such elevated him and his mother through the family heirarchy. He was attacked numerous times by a few of his older half-brothers and was heavy doted upon by his sisters and half-sisters due to his small size and apparently weak constitution and was ignored by the other harem dragonesses, save his own mother."
Pyre took a moment to recollect what else he had learned and also took a small sip of the drink that had been brought while he was telling them of Tomar.
"Later in life, his oldest brother, Nevor, a shadow dragon and the heir-apparent took to teaching Tomar about magic and strengthening his weaknesses. The only surviving writs of Tomar's say that to the young drake, Nevor was like a second father and a more than suitable replacement to his absent noble father. Later he was shaken by Nevor's assassination at the claws of another brother, Vekx, and tore off in pursuit of him, eventually cornering his half-brother and killing him in a duel to the death above an erupting Boyzitbig." At this point, Shimmer interupted and spoke.
"His history aside, the only surviving record states that Tomar was extremely paranoid after Nevor's death and built several lairs in the course of his life, eventually abandoning all but one of them when he himself took a mate and became a father. He was rather an isolationist by this point and only came to the newly completed city of Warfang to see his children and mate or buy alchemical and magical supplies for his experiments. His lair was never found and as we said all records of its possible locations were lost some time ago."
Spyro looked at Shimmer, clearly he was not going to give up so easily.
"Are there any possible leads?" Pyre grinned slightly and nodded.
"Yes, there are three possible locations. However, they will be tough to get to as all three have been fortified by Gnasty's forces. The first, and closest, is near the ancient fortress of Nibellung which was lost to the apes and has never been reclaimed. The apes there still suffer from Malefor's curse of undeath and attack anything. The gnorc forces that are stationed there are fighting both our troops and the undead. The next is a little farther out. It lies somewhere in the Poisonous Forest. Remember, Tomar made his lair there before the woods were poisoned so it's possible that the lair could be in pristine condition. The last...well, the last is somewhat of a mystery. The last possibility is in a place called the Crystal Plains but no one knows where they are. We figured the name of the place might have changed but then again, shortly after Tomar's death, it is said a massive earthquake split a section of the realms away and sank them. All we know is that the Crystal Plains were a place where storms frequently appeared and spawned from for some unknown reason." Spyro perked up at this and had a feeling he'd seen such a place not once but twice. His gaze lowered as he stared at his frozen mate and after a moment, he nodded and turned to Thera.
"I think I know of a place that sounds like these 'Crystal Plains'. When Cynder was Malefor's general, she had a fortress in a place now known as Concurrent Skies. During the conflict eighteen years ago, James and Lysa helped us retake the land from Dalon's forces and then destroyed the old castle. I haven't been back there since but the place sounds about right."
Pyre stared at the purple dragon in shock. Why hadn't he thought of that? Still, the guess was probably correct. Pyre cast a spell he learned and made a map of the realms appear before them. Concurrent Skies was the furthest from their position and was also the most heavily fortified.
"Just so that we don't rule anything out, let us start taking the points one by one. Chances are Gnasty stumbled upon the spell accidentally whuch means that he may not be aware of Tomar's lair. We'll have to think of something." Josh rose and started out, raising some glances from his brother and sister as well as his nieces and nephews. When he saw Spyro's glance though he froze and then turned, he had an idea.
"I'll try to put in a message to Dad and tell him of the situation. If he can get a request to Air Command, we can have some heavy bombers as well as some more materials sent here to help. I have little doubt that once he learns that Damoneni and Rotiart are here and helping the gnorcs, he'll throw all of his weight behind a support operation." Thera understood and nodded as Josh turned and left the house and, once outside, broke into a dead run to his ship.
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Back on board the Beowulf, Josh stormed into the radio room with an urgent look on his face. The radio operator looked at him with a confused expression but still snapped to attention.
"Commander! What do you need sir?" Josh turned to him and shut the door behind him.
"I need you to send a message to my Father using the old ship to shore transmitter. Things here have gone belly-up with Rotiart's appearance and we need some serious hardware. Using the newer radios won't work as Workshop Zero isn't on the grid. Plus, I don't want anyone getting wind of this until we have the supplies coming in. Can you do this?"
The radio operator stared aghast at Josh for a moment, then smiled and nodded.
"Yes, sir. Just tell me what you want me to send." At that moment, the door opened and in came Lieutenant Roberts with a stern expression.
"Commander, I'm afraid that cannot happen. As part of not only the Royal Navy but also Naval Intelligence, I cannot allow you to send such a transmission." Josh sighed and turned to face his XO.
"A spy? Command assigned a spy as my XO? Why am I not surprised." Roberts held herself casually.
"I am not a spy, I am an officer for Naval Intelligence. Commander de Launces, you caught the attention of the Admiralty when you sunk the Whirlwind is such a spectacular fashion. I was assigned to see if you possessed the same tactical prowess of your Father. So far, I have been impressed but if I allowed you to do this you would be sacrificing your career and I would have failed not only my superiors but also my father and my homeland."
She sighed and then looked back to him, her expression softened.
"In order to prepare myself for my assignment to you I went over everything the office knew of your family as well as your extended family. I was coming to report to you when I overheard everything. Your Father is currently embroiled in Top Secret projects for Syllia and our allies and cannot under any circumstances be disturbed. Once he hears what has happened, he will drop everything to come here and thus place himself in grave danger. So instead of calling him, allow me to make a call of my own."
Roberts went to the radio and switched the frequency to another that Josh did not recognize and then tested the radio to see if it worked. Then she sat in a chair nearby and spoke.
"This is Roberts calling Home. Come in Home." There was a burst of static as a reply came through.
"Lieutenant, wonderful to hear from you again. I've been meaning to try and contact you through normal means. How are things aboard ship?"
"Wonderful Eddie but this isn't a social call. Is Old Jack there?"
"Oh great so you have all the time in the world to speak to the Chief but never a chance to chew the fat with your old friend, eh? Wait one...Jack's here."
A few moments passed before a new voice came over the radio. This one sounded gruff and spoke plain.
"Roberts what the hell happened? We've been up to our eyeballs in transmissions from ally and enemy alike from all fronts and now you call us from yet another front. Whatever it is, make it good and fast. And where do get off calling me 'old'?"
"Sir you are the oldest member of the Admiralty but enough of that, we have a situation here. The gnorcs that betrayed Avalon have backing from both Damoneni and Rotiart. We have sen the evidence firsthand and are also requesting reinforcements, mainly in the form of heavy bombers and gunships."
"You young people these days. Do you honestly think I can snap my fingers, dance a jig, and a few dozen bombers will fly out of my ass? You think I keep gunships in my pockets? Still though, Rotiart huh?"
"Yes, sir and we don't need a few dozen bombers we need a few hundred. An entire air division" There was a strangled cough on the other end and a pause before the reply came.
"I think I misheard you. You said you need a few hundred bombers? Do you have any idea what sort of shit-storm that would raise if I transmitted orders for an entire division to take off and fly for Avalon? The higher-ups will want some mighty strong answers."
"The enemy is in fortified positions throughout the nation. We have identified several strongpoints that need to be taken out. We also need to commence bombing raids in gnorc territory so that we can divert attention from these points. If the enemy force can be silenced before Rotiart gets a foothold here, we can force a retreat and also bloody Damoneni at the same time. Both want Avalon for its proximity to Syllia's underbelly. If secure Avalon, Rotiart and Damoneni will be back at the drawing board, and the gnorcs will be out of war."
"Remove the dagger at our throat and kick the enemy in the nuts...typical you Roberts...I like it! I'll draft the orders immediately. Any specific requests?"
"We need a bomber wing that has crewmen who have some experience here so perhaps the 23rd Bomber Group and the 133rd Gunship Corps. In particular Colonel Hartwig's new bomber wing, the 8th."
"Done. I'll also send in a few more units that will give you enough airpower to crush the enemy. Even if Rotiart is present."
"Roger that, Roberts signing off."
The radio went dead and Roberts changed the frequency back to the standard one and turned, her face a mix of relief and worry.
"Command will crucify me for this when it's all said and done but at least we'll get what we've been promised. Old Jack never goes back on his word. At least not as long as I've known him he's never gone back on it."
"Why would Command-"
"Because I'm an intelligence officer and not a field officer. I am not supposed to be able to order units into battle, only give recommendations as to what units are suitable to what tasks are before us." Josh nodded and then turned to look out the porthole in the radio room.
"Any idea when they'll arrive?"
"They will gather at Bellenore, our southern-most airbase, take on fuel there, then fly over the ocean to us so about two days, three at most." Josh nodded and left the radio room. He stopped in the door, half turned and looked at Roberts and smiled.
"Just so you know, I treat my crew like an extended family. If anyone tries to do anything, much less crucify you for simply requesting reinforcements, I'll give them my answer and protect you so long as you sail with this ship and crew."
Anne blushed a little as Josh turned back and left the room. She glanced at the radioman who quickly averted his eyes and began whistling a tune as he fiddled with the radio.
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(the next day)
Ayatane silently swore as he worked on the engine of his plane. The mechanics here were all second-rate and didn't know shit from syphilis. Thankfully, when one was student of Reyson Havvers, you learned to double-check the mechanics work and how to correct any oversights. Granted, most mechanics knew what they were doing but occasionally someone would do something 'half-assed' and call it good enough. There was no room for 'good enough' on an airplane.
A feline snarl from behind him made him turn and see Sahne trying (unsuccessfully) to remove the cowling from her engine. Despite being in the air force, Sahne hadn't really grasped mechanical work. She knew the difference between a three-eighths socket wrench and a quarter-inch driver but there were so many damn bolts, screws, and clamps that even Jake got confused and he was Reyson's son.
Still, he glanced at her and noticed the problem and walked over to her.
"Need a hand, Sahne?" Sahne let out a startled yelp and turned to face him. Clearly she had not heard him working or had tuned him out. She looked at the engine and nodded.
"I don't know how you humans keep up with all of this. There are so many parts and pieces to an airplane. Growing up the most difficult thing for me to learn was how to make and string a bow. That is kitten's play compared to this. Ayatane glanced at the tool she held and chuckled.
"First off, you're using a Praetorian tool instead of Syllian. Praetoria uses the old metric system while Syllia uses the standard system. Secondly, that's a ten millimeter wrench and you need a quarter-inch. Here, allow me."
Ayatane pulled the wrench from his tool kit and rapidly removed the nuts and screws that kept the cowling fitted to the frame and then dropped the cowling and set it aside. He looked at the engine and groaned.
"Didn't the ground crew here ever learn the meaning of 'preventative maintenance'? You go up in this crate and everything that can go wrong will go wrong. There's build up in the valves, there's gunk in the cylinder, the cam looks about rusted through, and the radiator's leaking. Give me a moment and I'll see if they have a spare plane around here somewhere cause this wreck ain't going up anytime soon."
As Ayatane turned to leave, Sahne grabbed his arm and nodded, a smile replacing her earlier snarl. However, she tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the base officer approaching them, folder in hand.
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(a few minutes later)
Though he was no longer on carrier duty, now that he was ashore, Bertram still wasn't given a proper Syllian plane. Most of the Syllian RAF here was comprised of antiquated P-12 biplanes and only slightly better P-14 monoplanes.
The P-14 was a remarkable little (and I do mean little) plane in its day. The civilian version had won air show races throughout Syllia and abroad thanks to its supercharged engine but the military version downgraded the engine to make room for armament, two .30 caliber machineguns in the nose, two more in the wings, and one .65 caliber machinegun through the propellor hub. It was a little smaller than the CF-24 and had an armored cockpit with a small canopy that slid forward to allow the pilot in.
Once in, the view was limited. A pilot could see above, in front, and to his sides but he had special mirrors to see behind him. An upside is that the plane was so maneuverable nothing could out-turn it. A popular joke was that the famous actor, Arno Schwartz's shoe was bigger than the plane.
Bertram wasn't alone in his discontent. Many pilots, including those from Tullinar and Nevora as well as his own squadron, didn't like the plane and liked its big brother, the P-16 'Flying Brick', even less. As he sat at the air base's mess hall, Ayatane and Sahne came up to him and sat down with him. He could tell immediately that what he heard wasn't going to be good.
Ayatane worldessly handed him a folder containing orders to scour the enemy lines. That wasn't so bad but then he read what kind of plane he would be flying. He stared at the paper in complete disbelief. He rose and stepped out to go to the hangar where the plane was kept. Ayatane and Sahne wordlessly followed him.
At the hangar, Bertram grabbed the rusted handle and pulld the door open and gazed in silent horror what he was to fly for this recon mission over enemy lines: an antiquated B4-L Reconnaissance bomber. This plane was only active for two years before it was replaced by the more modern and faster HB-18. It required a crew of ten but could be flown by three and built using a combination of metal armor, wooden frame, and fabric skin. Almost immediately the base commander came up with the men who would be going up with him.
"Captain de Launces, you have been assigned to fly a reconnaissance mission over the enemy lines. Ideally I'd like to assign you a better aircraft than this but this old girl is all we have left that's ready to fly. These men will be your recon officer and co-pilot. You will not be carrying bombs and this plane has already been refitted with the nessessary equipment for recon. Your squadron as well as the 303rd and the 310th will be escorting you. Should you come under enemy air attack, turn around and retreat back to base. You take off in three hours. Good luck, and godspeed."
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(three hours later)
The B4-L was on the runway, fueled and idling. Bertram sat at the controls, his co-pilot, Jason Beeman, rattled off the pre-flight checklist and made sure everything was ready. A ground crewman raised a flag signalling all was clear. Above, Betram's squadron and escort screen flew above him. He nodded to Jason and pushed the throttle up to full power. The bomber's four engines roared to life as it sped down the runway. Bertram turned on the radio and checked it to make sure it was working.
"Paladin to Base, we are up and away."
"Copy that Paladin. The recon officer on board will direct you to where you are needed so stay alert and listen to him. If you are attacked, you are the senior officer and thus in command. This intel isn't worth dying over." Bertram placed a hand over the radio and groaned.
"Now he tells us." Jason shook his head and gazed back at the controls. With a lurch, the bomber lifted up and then wheeled right to the objective, rising as it went.
The fighters settled in around the bomber early on and stayed with it as they leveled out at twelve-thousand feet, the maximum altitude for the antiquated bomber. The intercom kicked on and Bertram heard the voice of Lieutenant Smith, the recon officer with them.
"Okay Captain, the first objective should be a spot known locally as Nibellung. Intel reports a lot of fighting going on around there. If the fighting's too heavy, we'll just send in the bombers and level the place. King Skyclaw has stated that the fortress cannot be retaken and should be utterly destroyed."
Remembering what Pyre had said about the fortress, Bertram had an idea.
"Copy that Lieutenant. By the way, if you notice anything out of the ordinary like perhaps a cave hidden from ground view, let me know. My sister is looking for an ancient dragon lair that is supposedly around these parts."
"What's her interest in this lair?"
"It belonged to a dragon wizard of sorts and she's hoping to find a counterspell for a curse cast on the dragoness Cynder in the battle a week ago."
"So, humanitarian mission eh? Alright, even though that's not the mission, I'll keep an eye out and mark it on the map as I see it. Would you like to know the other spots?"
"If you please. I'd like to know how big a bullseye I'm painting on my back."
"Two other points of contact: the next is the ruined fortress in Concurrent Skies and also a mole village that was lost yesterday while you fighter pilots were playing hero for the Praetorians. Small engagement, dragons and Rotiart dread griffons mainly but we did lose one of our more promising fighters, young dragoness named Flaire. Request from command to try and find her if alive if possible or at least find where she crashed when she was struck."
"If we find her alive?"
"Mark her location on the map and drop the care package we have on board to her. If not, mark the location of her corpse and send in a reclaimation team. Rotiart dread griffons eat dragons you know, so we don't want the body of an ally ravaged by these monsters."
At that moment, Bertram shuddered and gripped the control stick tighter. Jason noticed this and looked at him concerned.
"You okay Captain?" Bertram shook his head.
"Just thinking. You know I'm technically a dragon but in human form. I cannot imagine any creature eating a dragon, or a human, for that matter. The thought that I could be killed and my body desecrated like that reviles me. To be honest, I'd feel a lot more comfortable if we had some gunners on board." Jason nodded.
"I know what you mean. I feel naked up here in a bomber with no gunners but we needed speed and the plane couldn't take off with both recon equipment and guns. It was one or the other and the base commander deep sixed all the guns except for two: nose and tail. Man look at that view. Some people point out that old Syllian bomber designs leave the pilot and co-pilot exposed thanks to the 'greenhouse nose' design, but I like it."
Bertram nodded and looked around the cockpit of the bomber. True the entire upper part of the cockpit was nothing but metal frames and windows and gave a wonderful view, but in a more modern age it was a literal glass jaw, a weak point.
For the moment anyway, he could just enjoy flying for the first time in a long while. Gazing to his left and right and seeing the escort planes darting back and forth allowed him a moment to wonder of things that were not yet to be. He set the throttle, eased into the planned course and let the world fall away.
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Okay everyone, I know there was no parting of the chapter previously but hey, who plans for everything? Anyway, so the search for the lair is begun and its Bertram in the hotseat this time. I just need time to piece the next few chapters together and while I'm doing that, you guys can check out my Breath of Fire fanfic if you want, or just wait patiently. Either way, you won't be disappointed.
As always, please review!