Cool air brushed Anna''s cheek. Eyelids fluttered open. Colour flooded the cockpit viewport—not grey cloud, but shapes swirling, glowing. Reds, greens, deep violet. Ahead, coppery lines twisted against violet depths. Streaks of green, amber. Light spilled across the cockpit''s console, the worn seat edge, warm metal near her cheek. Shifting colours.


    Rough wood pressed against her legs. A slow vibration hummed through the deck. The Stout Lass. Creak... hum... Wind hissed past the hull. The bunk behind the nav station... Riva''s watch... Sharp stars now lost to the glow outside, the lightening sky.


    Anna pushed upright. A faint pop sounded near her spine. Wood shifted under her weight. The rough blanket slid, pooled warm around her legs. She stretched. Muscles pulled across her back. Air felt thin, crisp. Her chest tightened slightly.


    First light touched the eastern sky—pale orange, pink—against the nebula''s colours. Below, highlands rolled away. Dark shapes of canyons opened in the shadow. Iris Hollow valley... just beyond that ridge.


    Across the compact cockpit, a small figure sat hunched near the forward viewport, beside a crate. Head bowed. Dark hair caught the shifting light. A battered book lay open across his knees. Milo. A pencil scratched soft against the page. Graphite left thin gray lines.


    Boots scraped quiet on metal deck plating. Anna stopped a pace behind him. Faded sketches showed on the worn page: tall spires, floating platforms. Notes in tight script: ''Quantum Relays,'' ''Earth Twin Pillars.'' His pencil traced a complex shape. Air puffed warm from her nostrils – a near silent sound.


    "Boo." The whisper barely sounded. Her hand moved quick, rustled his dark hair.


    Milo flinched, body jolting sideways on the deck. The book slapped shut. He grabbed for it, clutched it tight against his chest. Red spread high across his cheeks. "Anna!" His voice cracked, high-pitched. "I—I wasn''t slacking! Just looked—"


    Anna planted hands on hips. Head tilted. "Dawn," she said. "Airborne. Landing soon. You''re drawing skyscrapers." A pause. She nudged the closed book with one finger. "More Earth legends?"


    Milo''s grip tightened on the book. He looked down at the cracked leather cover, paused, then looked back up. Shifting light—reds, greens—reflected in his wide, dark pupils. He opened the book slow. Pencil sketches showed again: sharp-angled ships, star paths linking clusters. "Same book," his voice came low, breathy. "Quantum drives... star routes... It''s..." He gestured towards the intricate, faded lines on the page.


    Anna crouched beside him. Deck vibrated faint beneath her knees. She rested an elbow on her thigh. Loose strands of blonde hair brushed his shoulder. Her gaze moved over the illustrations, the faded, intricate lines. Her calloused hands rested still on her knees. Air puffed sharp from her nostrils. "Still looking at that page?" Her finger tapped the paper''s brittle edge. "Map? Star-bridge out of this dust bowl?"


    Milo leaned forward slightly, gaze locked on the diagram. "We build airships from scrap, right?" he asked. "Turbines cobbled from who-knows-what, fusion bits patched... Maybe the plans... show how they made those drives work? Missing pieces?"


    Anna pushed lightly against his shoulder with her own. "Planet''s edge, Milo?" she asked. "Quantum jumps across nebulae? Bedtime stories now. Meltdown wave slammed those lanes shut."


    Milo''s shoulders slumped a fraction. He turned a page, fingers tracing the brittle edge slow. His gaze dropped. "I know." Air puffed from his lips, misting brief in the cool air. "Still... maybe a clue. Helps... figure things."


    Thirteen. Anna leaned closer, her face level with the sketches. Faint graphite and old paper scent touched the air. Her hand pressed firm, brief, on his shoulder. "Keep looking, kid," she said. "Dreams from scraps too, sometimes." A pause. "Just... don''t phase out mid-flight when I need altitude readings. Real drops hurt."


    Milo looked up, blinked. Nodded. "Did fuel line checks. Pre-dawn. Like you showed me. Valves locked, pressure steady."


    Anna stood. Brushed hands against her trousers. Pushed fingers through tangled hair; strands caught the shifting light. "Good." She stretched again, arms high. A soft pop sounded near her shoulder blades. "Alright. Enough stargazing. Final approach. Go see if Riva needs help for landing."


    Milo scrambled up. Snapped the book shut. Tucked it into the side pouch of his worn jacket. "On it!" He moved towards the navigation console. Riva''s silhouette leaned towards the main display, fingers moving across the controls. Below, the valley showed clearer.


    Anna turned towards the helm. Her hands found the controls. The Stout Lass began its descent. Below, Archeon unfolded.


    Anna''s hands shifted position on the Stout Lass''s yoke. The material felt thick, unyielding compared to the worn grip she remembered. She applied pressure to bank the ship; the movement required more force than her usual adjustments. The engine''s whine lowered in pitch as she eased the throttle back. The ship slowed.


    Below, dark lines of canyons gave way to rolling ground. Scrub patterns shifted below the hull. A dark crest line rose ahead, obscuring the land beyond. Iris Hollow lay on the other side.


    She angled the ship''s nose slightly downward, initiating the descent. The yoke offered resistance under her hands. Wind sounds changed pitch past the viewport. Raindrops struck the glass, leaving scattered wet streaks. The barometer needle on the console held steady.


    "Descent angle holding," Anna said. The sound of her voice resonated in the cockpit. Her gaze stayed fixed on the approaching ridge line. "Milo, crosswind check."


    "Wind shear nominal," Milo said from beside her. "Minus-two, steady."


    The Stout Lass lost altitude, a heavy feeling settling through the deck plates unlike Cloudchaser''s lighter glide. The ridge filled the lower edge of the viewport. Altitude numerals on the display clicked down.


    The ridge line passed below. Iris Hollow spread out. Stone and metal glinted under the shifting gray light. Buildings clustered low in a wide basin. Dark arms of windmills turned slow on slopes surrounding the valley. Arcs of glass near green field patches caught the light. A single spire rose near the settlement''s center.


    "Iris Hollow visual," Anna stated.


    A muffled grunt sounded from the rear of the ship, near Loch''s position.


    Anna''s gaze moved to the landing field—packed earth, faded white lines. Small figures moved near mooring posts. No raised dock structure. She pulled her hands back from the yoke, resettled her grip, took manual control. The ship responded sluggishly to her pressure.


    "Bringing her in," Anna stated. Her voice sounded against the cockpit''s metallic hum. She eased back on the thruster output lever. The Stout Lass slowed. Its descent angle steepened. Below, the packed-earth clearing approached. Figures moved near faded white lines, arms lifting. Ropes snaked down from hull mounts, weighted ends hitting earth with soft thuds. Hands reached, grasped thick lines, pulled them towards mooring posts.


    Air shifted outside the viewport. A high, clear bird trill sounded from the slope beyond the clearing. A low gurgle and splash carried on the breeze – water flow, maybe a stream, unseen mill wheels. Damp earth scent, a sweet floral note, mixed with ozone near the slowing propellers.


    The Stout Lass met the ground. BUMP. A solid impact transmitted upward through the deck plates, jarring Anna against the seat frame. Landing gear groaned loud under the ship''s weight. Hydraulics hissed. The hull shuddered once, twice, then settled onto uneven earth. Engine whine lowered pitch, faded. Propeller blades blurred, resolved into distinct shapes, then stopped.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Silence, except for the wind''s low whistle against the hull. The bird call returned—two sharp notes, then a softer chirp answered nearby. Water sounds – gurgle, flow – persisted, a constant murmur. The rhythmic creak-hum of distant windmills pulsed low beneath the other sounds. Gods, this thing lands heavy.


    "Engines off," Anna stated. The sound of her voice cut the quiet. She flipped power toggles. Console displays went dark. Numerals faded. She reached for the harness buckle. Click. Sharp sound. "Iris Hollow." The name landed flat in the stillness. "Let''s see what they''ve got." She pushed herself up from the seat. Muscles across her back pulled tight. Shoulders ached. A weight settled in her arms, her legs. Need solid ground after that storm. She stepped towards the cockpit exit hatch. Metal floor cold beneath her boots.


    Movement sounds behind her—cloth rustling, straps clicking, limbs stretching sending faint pops through the quiet air. Muffled taps as Riva interacted with the dark nav console. Lian''s headlamp beam cut across the engine access panel – a soft click as she activated it. Loch''s boots thudded soft, moving towards the cargo hold hatch. Damp earth and valley bloom scents strengthened.


    Anna reached the bottom of the ramp. Boots crunched on packed earth. The air smelled of damp soil, field growth, wet stone. A small group walked across the clearing towards the ship.


    Milo''s boots hit the earth behind her. He stopped beside her, gaze moving across the clearing, towards the dwellings nestled in the valley. Anna watched the approaching figures. One separated from the group, walking faster. Female. Practical clothing. Face showed sharp lines. Brenna. She stopped several paces away.


    "Freedman," Brenna said. Her voice was clipped, the sound sharp against the wind. "Need to talk. Riverbend readings just came in. Updated parameters. Deployment window is immediate."


    Wind gusted across the landing field. The air carried damp earth smells. Gravel scattered near Anna''s boots. Brenna stood opposite, posture stiff against the wind. The words "deployment window immediate" hung between them.


    Anna''s hand, near her hip, tightened. Knuckles pressed white against worn trouser fabric. Her gaze shifted – from Brenna''s face, past the Iris Hollow group, landing on the Stout Lass. Dull gray hull. Solid. Heavy. Different. The ship''s ramp rested low on the uneven earth.


    Riva stepped near Anna, boots crunching soft. Riva''s gaze flicked between Brenna, Anna, the Stout Lass. Arms crossed over her chest.


    Anna turned her head, profile presented to Riva. Their gazes met. Anna looked back at the Stout Lass. The storm hours before: heavy controls pushing back, the hull shuddering beneath her boots, the violent tilt near the plateau. Riverbend''s coastal path... canyon winds... thermal shifts... This ship...


    Her jaw muscle pulled tight. A breath pulled in, cold against the back of her throat. "The sensor package," Anna stated. Voice level. Target: Brenna. "Requires stable platform. Low atmospheric shear zones." Her gaze held Brenna''s.


    Brenna''s expression remained unchanged. Lines showed near her eyes. "Parameters non-negotiable, Freedman. Readings within twenty-four hours." Brenna held out a thin dataslate. Amber text strings glowed on its screen. "Transport is your concern. Contract mandates compliance."


    Anna''s fingers unclenched. Flexed. Clenched again. Her boots shifted slightly on the packed earth. Her gaze dropped to the dataslate Brenna offered. The screen reflected the dull gray sky. She did not reach for it. Her eyes lifted again, back to the Stout Lass. Thick landing gear. Boxy cockpit. Heavy vibrations recalled... felt under her feet. Her lips pressed thin. She faced Brenna again. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Wind whistled low across the open clearing.


    A sound cut the wind''s sigh. Lower pitch. Deeper hum. Growing louder from the east. Anna''s head snapped up. Riva spun. Milo looked up sharply from the base of the ramp.


    A shape descended through the haze near the valley rim. Sleek hull lines. Curved canopy shape, patched. Riveted plates glinting faint brass. Swept-back wings angled for landing. Cloudchaser.


    Anna''s breath stopped. Air held static in her chest. Her hand near her hip loosened. Fingers uncurled. The tightness across her shoulders eased. A distinct vibration seemed to pulse low, through the ground, or maybe just inside her chest.


    The airship glided lower. Engines purred, a sound unlike the Stout Lass''s drone. It banked smooth, circling the field once. A figure showed at the cockpit railing – silver-streaked hair bright against the gray sky, a hand lifted, waved. Eldrin. Grin lines visible.


    "Well, look at that," Riva murmured beside Anna. The sound was quiet against the wind.


    Cloudchaser descended near the Stout Lass. Its movements felt precise. Landing gear extended, touched packed earth minimal impact. Settled. Engines whined down, settling into a low idle hum.


    Anna moved. Boots crunched fast across gravel. Reached the hull. Ramp lowered with a familiar groan. Her hand pressed flat against cool metal plating. Uneven surface – smooth patches, rougher welds – under her palm. Faint scent of sealant, oil, worn leather reached her.


    Eldrin stepped down the ramp. Boots hit earth. Wiped grease from hands onto a rag. Lines crinkled near his eyes. "Sealant cured like rock," his voice rumbled low. "Engines tuned smooth. Figured you might need her sooner. Heard the urgent chatter." He nodded towards Brenna, the dataslate now lowered at her side.


    Anna nodded back, throat tight. "Eldrin," her voice rasped, low. "Perfect timing." She patted the hull again, firmer contact.


    Brenna tucked the dataslate into her jacket pocket. Her gaze moved between Cloudchaser, Anna. Her expression shifted, lines near her mouth softening fractionally.


    Anna turned towards her crew, her stance straightening. "Alright," she called out. Voice clearer now, cutting the wind. "Gear transfer! Sensor packages onto Cloudchaser. Secure tight. Wheels up for Riverbend—thirty minutes."


    Crew figures moved. Riva headed for the Stout Lass hatch. Loch''s shape appeared, grabbing straps. Milo ran towards the sensor crate near Brenna''s group. Eldrin stepped back, arms crossed, watching the movement.


    Anna walked towards Cloudchaser''s ramp. Boots found grooved metal. Hand gripped the railing. Climbed upward. Movement felt lighter. Reached the cockpit hatch. Stopped. Looked back. The Stout Lass sat inert. Cloudchaser hummed beneath her boots. She ducked inside. Cockpit air—oil, leather, sealant—surrounded her. Hands found the worn yoke. Settled there. Familiar shape under her palms.


    The cockpit air settled around Anna—scent of oil, worn leather, the tang of sealant formula from older panels. Her hands rested on the yoke. Worn material, soft texture, shape fitting her grip. A low hum vibrated through the deck plating—Cloudchaser''s baseline frequency, steady. Back home.


    Outside, movement showed in the Iris Hollow clearing. Riva emerged from the Stout Lass hatch, carrying a metal kit. Loch''s broad shape wrestled the heavy sensor crate across packed earth, boots digging, aided by two local ground crew figures. Straps lay coiled near Cloudchaser''s cargo hatch.


    Milo stood near the ramp, then turned. His boots scuffed gravel as he started down the path leading away from the airships, towards the village huts.


    Anna leaned towards the open cockpit hatch. Wind pushed strands of hair across her face. Her voice cut sharp over the wind and the sounds of gear movement. "Milo! Where are you going?"


    He stopped mid-stride. Spun around. His mouth parted slightly. He pointed vaguely down the path. "Just grabbing... travel bread?" His voice sounded uncertain.


    "Travel bread?" Anna echoed. She leaned further out, hand gripping the hatch frame. "Wheels up in twenty. Riverbend mission." Her gaze held his. "Or did that storm shake the flight plan loose?"


    Red spread across Milo''s ears. He scuffed his boot on the gravel. "No, I remember! Just thought... snack?" He gestured towards the path again. "Not far."


    Anna shook her head. A faint upward pull touched the corners of her mouth. "No time. Snacks packed." She jerked her head towards Cloudchaser''s ramp. "Get gear stowed. Prep co-pilot scans. Now."


    Milo''s shoulders lowered momentarily, then straightened. He gave a quick nod. Turned back from the village path. Jogged towards Cloudchaser, boots kicking dust. Grabbed a smaller satchel near the ramp.


    Anna watched him approach the ramp, then turned back to the controls. Fingers moved across the panel. Flipped switches. Amber lights flickered on, bathing the cockpit in warm color. Gauge needles jumped, settled steady. Her hands moved over worn toggles, dials. Inputs felt immediate, fluid.


    Sounds from outside: Metal scraping as the sensor crate moved into the hold. Loch''s low grunt. Riva''s voice calling strap adjustments. Distant windmill hum. Anna initiated the engine pre-heat sequence. A deeper vibration joined the steady hum. Cloudchaser stirred beneath her touch.


    Milo entered the cockpit. Stowed his satchel beneath the co-pilot seat. Settled in. Pulled the harness across his chest. Click. The sound was loud. He began tapping commands into the secondary console. Sensor array diagnostics appeared on the screen. His movements were quick.


    Anna glanced at him. Watched his fingers move across the controls. Learned something this summer, at least. She completed primary system checks. Looked out the viewport. Brenna stood near the empty sensor crate area, speaking with Eldrin. Eldrin leaned against the Stout Lass. Both glanced towards Cloudchaser. Eldrin lifted a hand, thumb extended upward.


    Anna keyed the internal comm. "Lian? Riva? Loch? Status?"


    Riva''s voice came back first, breath audible. "Sensor package secure, Anna. Strapped tight."


    "Fuel cells optimal," Lian added. "Ready."


    Loch''s clipped confirmation followed. "Hold clear."


    Anna took a breath. Air filled her lungs, expanded her chest. Her hand closed firm around the throttle lever. "Alright team," she said. Her voice sounded clear, carrying through the cockpit. "Time to fly. Riverbend awaits." She pushed the throttle forward.


    Cloudchaser''s engines roared. The sound deepened, grew powerful, shaking the cockpit deck. Wind noise increased outside. The airship lifted smoothly from the ground. Dust swirled below. The Iris Hollow clearing shrank rapidly. Anna banked the ship, heading towards the waypoint for Riverbend.