Gray-green water churned below, lines stretching to a horizon lost in low, heavy clouds. Wind hammered Red Wing''s hull, a steady, vibrating roar that hummed up through the deck plating beneath Anna''s boots. Salt spray hit the forward viewport, sharp impacts like flung grit, leaving trails that blurred the indistinct line between sea and sky. The air inside the cockpit held the smell of recycled air and faint, hot metal from the straining engines; a cold dampness clung to surfaces.


    Anna leaned back in the pilot''s seat. Worn padding pressed against her back. Her hand rested low on her side, fingers pressed against the thick bandages beneath her torn jacket. Each deep breath pulled fire across her ribs, sharp against the dull ache in the muscle. She kept her eyes closed. The rhythmic groan of the airship''s frame vibrated through her bones. <i>Easier this way. Let the sounds wash over. Let Kassia handle the jolts.</i>


    A lurch sideways shook the airship. Anna''s eyes snapped open. Her hand shot out, gripping the console edge, knuckles white. Outside, the gray churn tilted. Rain lashed the viewport—a drumming static obscuring everything. Red Wing groaned, a high-pitched sound from stressed metal joints.


    Kassia leaned forward, shoulders hunched tight, dark hair plastered damp to her forehead. Her hands moved over the yoke and throttle levers, fingers made small adjustments, counteracting the ship''s lurches. Green and amber lights from the navigation panel reflected in the wet streaks running down the viewport glass. Her gaze flicked—yoke, main gauge cluster, viewport, back to yoke. Lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line.


    "Squall line," Kassia bit out, her voice carrying above the wind''s howl. "Holding course. Pressure dropping."


    Anna tracked the altimeter needle. It dipped, jumped, dipped again. Her own breath came shallow, held tight in her chest. The fire in her side pulsed with each jarring impact of wind against the hull. "Seals?" Anna asked, the word scraping past her lips.


    "Holding," Kassia replied, her gaze fixed on the controls. "Engine temp... climbing a degree." Her knuckles showed white where she gripped the yoke.


    Rain hammered the hull; the sound filled the cockpit. Clouds outside the viewport blocked light, dimming the interior. A flash of white light flared outside, bright for an instant. Seconds later, a low rumble vibrated through Anna''s chest, rattling the metal console fittings. Thunder. Close. Her grip tightened on the console edge. The air carried sharp ozone mixed with salt spray.


    Hammering rain, the ship''s groaning, sharp jolts pulled gasps against Anna''s clenched teeth. Kassia wrestled the controls, her breath puffing white in the dim cockpit light. The rain lessened. The shuddering decreased. The drumming on the hull softened to a heavy patter, then stopped.


    Through the smeared viewport, the gray outside showed brighter. The cloud bank moved past. Below, the choppy sea remained, under the same overcast sky. Kassia let out a long breath, the sound loud. Her shoulders lowered. She wiped a hand across her damp forehead, leaving a smudge of grime.


    "Passed through it," Kassia said. She glanced at the fuel gauge again. Tapped its surface with a gloved finger. Her brow furrowed. "Used more climb than planned. Reserve margin''s thin."


    Anna closed her eyes again. Let her head rest back against the seat padding. The dull ache pulsed in her side. <i>Just water below. Gray water. Gray sky. And the wind, always the wind. Keep flying. Just keep her steady.</i> She drew another shallow breath, wincing as it pulled. "Scan showed... clear path now," she murmured, her voice quiet, words coming with pauses. "Should hold." <i>Hope it holds.</i>


    Hours later. The gray-green water churned below. The wind''s howl against the hull persisted, a drone against the engine hum. Anna shifted in the seat, the movement pulling a grunt from her chest. Her hand stayed pressed against her side.


    "Landfall," Kassia said. The word cut through the engine hum.


    Anna leaned forward, looking through the viewport. Ahead, the sea haze thinned. A dark shape solidified against the gray horizon—jagged peaks rising from the water. Stark rock faces showed. East Iris.


    As Red Wing drew closer, details showed more clearly. Volcanic rock, black and dark gray, displayed streaks – dull reds, greens – glistening wet. Anna observed no soft slopes, only sheer cliffs plunging into churning white water at their base. Sparse patches of dull, brownish-green scrub held fast to lower ledges, bent flat by the wind. High above, the peaks disappeared into low clouds.


    Closer still. A section of rough stone sea wall near a narrow inlet showed collapsed inwards, dark water surging over tumbled blocks. Splintered timbers lay scattered high on a rocky beach—wreckage matching fishing boat debris. A wooden pier structure jutted out from a cove; half its length was gone, severed planks dangling towards the churning water.


    "Going for the north plateau," Kassia stated. Her hands tightened on the yoke. "Wind shear near that breakwater."


    Anna tracked the readings on the secondary display. The air speed needle jumped left, then right. Altitude readings dipped, then rose. "Downdraft," Anna pointed with her chin towards a spot where spray shot high from the cliff base. "Three hundred meters out. Keep altitude." Her voice held a flat tone.


    The airship bucked. An upward heave pressed Anna back into the seat. The deck dropped away beneath her boots. Kassia wrestled the controls, knuckles white, face set. The plateau rushed closer—a flat expanse of windswept rock cleared near the cliff edge. Small. Exposed. Figures moved there, tiny shapes against the gray stone.


    "Turbulence off the cliff face," Kassia grunted, her hands moving against the yoke''s resistance. "Hold on."


    The landing gear lowered with a pneumatic hiss. Red Wing descended, engines whining against the buffeting wind. The plateau surface rushed up—uneven rock, patches of gravel. A final downdraft slammed them down the last few meters.


    THUD. A heavy impact. Metal shrieked. The deck slammed upward beneath Anna''s boots. A cry tore from her lips, sharp, as fire spread beneath her ribs. Her vision flashed white for a second. She slumped forward, forehead hitting the cool metal of the console edge, breath knocked from her lungs. Her hand clamped over her bandaged side, fingers digging against the heat pulsing there.


    The airship rocked side to side, then settled with a final metallic groan. Silence, except for the wind howling outside and Anna''s ragged gasps pulling air into her tight chest. Kassia cut the main engines; their whine faded. Kassia''s own breath came out in a rush. She turned, eyes wide, finding Anna hunched over the console. "Anna? You alright?"


    Anna pushed herself upright. Lines showed around her mouth; her brow pulled tight. Sweat beaded cold on her pale forehead. "Fine," she rasped, the word escaping on a thin breath. Her hands pressed against the console, leveraging herself up, breath catching sharp. <i>Need support.</i> Her gaze shifted away from Kassia''s face, towards the figures gathering outside the viewport... Shapes holding long, thin objects. Spears? Hooks? <i>Not just tools.</i>


    The groan of stressed metal subsided. Red Wing settled onto uneven rock, the hull giving one final shudder. Wind howled across the exposed landing site, a constant, cold pressure against the viewport glass, carrying the sharp smell of salt and wet stone. Anna stayed hunched forward for several seconds, forehead pressed against cool console metal. Her breath scraped shallow in her throat. Each intake pulled fire across her ribs. She pushed upright, the movement pulling another grunt from her. Her hand pressed against the bandages beneath her torn jacket.


    Kassia unbuckled her harness, the click sharp in the quiet after the engines died. She watched Anna, her dark eyes fixed. "Deep breaths," Kassia said, her voice quiet. "Need a hand out?" Anna nodded, a small movement of her head. She braced one hand on the console, the other gripping the seat back, knuckles showing white. Used that leverage to push herself out of the pilot''s seat. Her boots hit the deck plating. Her legs showed instability; she gripped the seat back, steadying herself. Kassia moved to her side, offering an arm for support. Anna leaned into Kassia''s support, taking steps towards the ramp release.


    Outside the viewport, figures moved. Shapes detached themselves from the gray rock face, emerging from low-slung structures built into crevices. Islanders. They gathered at a distance from the airship. Dark clothing – oilskins, thick woven cloth – blended with the rock. They stopped fifty paces out, a silent line facing the airship. Long thin shapes rested in their hands, angled downward – fishing spears, wood handles dark, metal tips glinting dully. Boat hooks, heavy gaffs. Faces showed pale blurs under the overcast sky, turned towards Red Wing. Unmoving.


    Anna took a breath, braced herself, and hit the ramp release switch. A pneumatic hiss sounded, sharp in the confined cockpit. The ramp lowered with a metallic groan, touching down onto the uneven rock surface with a CLANG. Cold wind rushed into the cockpit, carrying the scent of brine and fish gut.


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    Anna braced one hand on the console, the other gripping the seat back, knuckles showing white. Used that leverage to push herself out of the pilot''s seat. Her boots hit the deck plating. Her legs showed instability; she gripped the seat back, steadying herself. Kassia moved to her side, offering an arm for support. Anna leaned into Kassia''s support, taking steps towards the ramp opening.


    Her hand found the cold ramp rail. Gripped it tight. Kassia stayed close, one arm near Anna''s back. Anna took the first step down, weight pressed on the rail, her good leg taking the strain. Grooved metal felt slick under her boot sole. Each downward step sent a vibration up her leg, pulling fire across her ribs. She kept her gaze fixed on the ramp''s end, on the gray rock beyond, eyes lowered from the silent line of islanders. Kassia descended just behind her, carrying a small toolkit, boots thudding lighter on the metal.


    They reached the bottom. Anna stepped onto the plateau rock. Her boot slid on loose gravel; the rock shifted underneath. Her body tilted sideways. Kassia''s arm moved, hand clamping onto Anna''s elbow, steadying her. Anna caught her breath, leaning against Kassia for a moment. The ground sloped towards the cliff edge where wind drove spray upward in white plumes from the churning sea far below. The line of islanders remained silent. Their faces showed lines from sun, wind, salt as Anna and Kassia stood clear of the ramp. Eyes narrowed against the wind, their gaze fixed on Anna, on her movement while leaning on Kassia, the bandages visible beneath her open jacket. No smiles showed. No hands lifted in greeting. Their stares met Anna''s gaze.


    A figure detached from the line. Female. Stocky build. Patched jacket, cleaner than the others, maybe heavier material. Dark braid pulled back from a face with sharp angles. Elara. She walked towards them, boots crunching on loose gravel scattered over the rock. Stopped ten paces away. Arms crossed over her chest.


    "Red Wing," Elara stated. Voice flat, carrying over the wind''s howl. "Strait winds didn''t claim you, then." Her gaze swept over the airship''s hull – lingered on faded paint, patched panels – then moved to Anna, her eyes settling on Anna''s hand pressed tight against her side. Her focus stayed there for several seconds. "Set up over there." Her chin moved in a short motion towards a cramped space near the cliff edge, surface uneven, loose rock piled nearby. "Keep clear of the ramps." The boat ramps, narrow paths leading down the cliff face towards the turbulent water, showed empty.


    Anna met Elara''s stare. Opened her mouth, the word "purifier" forming on her lips. Elara turned away before Anna could speak. Walked back towards the silent line of islanders without a backward glance. Anna watched her go, lips pressing thin. Wind pushed against her face; a shiver traced down her neck. She shifted her weight, leaning more onto Kassia, the movement pulling another sharp intake of breath. Kassia stepped up beside her, setting the toolkit down with a soft thud. Kassia''s gaze followed Elara, then swept over the silent, watching islanders. Her jaw tightened.


    Wind clawed across the exposed rock shelf Elara indicated. Loose gravel skittered underfoot with each gust. Spray misted cold from the cliff edge scant meters away, coating skin and metal with a fine, damp sheen. Below, waves crashed against volcanic rock, a deep roar vibrating up through Anna''s boots. Red Wing''s cargo ramp rested unevenly on the sloping ground.


    Kassia strained, muscles bunching in her arms and back, boots sliding on the damp rock as she wrestled the first heavy purifier component—a cylindrical filter housing wrapped in protective canvas—down the ramp. Metal grated against metal. The housing tilted.


    "Hold it!" Anna''s voice, sharp, cutting the wind. She stood braced against a low rock outcrop near the assembly area, one hand pressed flat against the cold stone, free hand gesturing. "Angle it... use the skid plate!"


    Kassia grunted, adjusted her grip, leveraged the housing onto the small metal skid plate. It slid then, her boots digging for purchase, muscles straining as she maneuvered it across the uneven, rock-strewn ground towards the assembly area—a patch cleared near the outcrop where Anna stood. Sweat beaded on Kassia''s forehead, plastering strands of dark hair to her temples despite the cold wind. Her breath came in harsh puffs.


    The islanders watched. Unmoving. Silent. A line of figures near the cliff path, maybe twenty paces away. Faces stayed impassive; eyes tracked Kassia''s movements, flicking to Anna braced against the rock. A low murmur passed between two men near the back, heads close, words lost in the wind. One islander near the front, older, wiry, spat onto the rock near his feet, the sound sharp.


    Anna pushed away from the outcrop, moving with joints that showed limited flex towards an overturned supply crate Kassia had placed nearby. She lowered herself onto it, the movement pulling a low groan from her tight lips. Pain radiated beneath her side bandages. She pulled the dataslate from her jacket pocket. Screen flickered green in the dull light. Angled lines, numbers. She tapped a sequence with a gloved finger, magnifying a connection point diagram.


    Kassia wrestled the filter housing into position. Metal grated against rock as she settled its base. She straightened, wiping her brow with the back of her wrist, leaving a dark grease smudge. Her gaze flicked towards the watchers, then back to Anna. "Next piece," Kassia stated, her voice strained, turning back towards the ramp.


    Piece by heavy piece, purifier components moved onto the assembly site. Kassia maneuvered the filter housing, then the pump assembly, muscles straining against the weight on the uneven rock. Anna directed from the crate, referencing the dataslate, her finger pointing out alignment marks, bolt sequences on the screen. Her voice remained quiet. Sometimes she''d push up, using the nearby purifier frame or the rock outcrop for support to check a connection, her face tightening, breath catching. Moving between points required bracing against Kassia''s offered arm or the purifier frame itself.


    Then, the valve assembly. Smaller, lighter metal. "Let me," Anna said, pushing up from the crate, bracing one hand on the cold purifier frame to steady herself as she moved towards Kassia. She took the assembly. Metal felt cold through her glove. She knelt beside the purifier frame, the movement pulling a wince, bracing her free hand against the cold iron. Held the valve against the mounting flange. Reached for a securing bolt with her other hand—the injured one. Fingers trembled inside the glove, slipping against the bolt head. The bolt slipped free, clattered onto the rock


    A sound came from the onlookers—a sharp intake of breath. Anna froze. Her gaze fixed on the fallen bolt near her boot. Her knuckles showed white where she gripped the valve housing. She took a breath. Reached down, fingers closing around the small metal cylinder. Lifted it. Her gaze stayed locked on the task—aligning the bolt thread with the hole in the flange. Her hand trembled. Sweat beaded on her upper lip despite the wind. She pressed the bolt against the opening. Turned it. Metal scraped faint against metal. It caught. Turned a rotation. Slipped again.


    Kassia knelt beside her. Picked up a small spanner from the toolkit nearby. Held it angled forward. Kassia''s eyes stayed fixed on Anna''s hand, on the bolt head.


    Anna tried again. Lined up the bolt. Pushed inward with slight pressure, turned. Screee... it caught the thread. Held. Turned one full rotation, two, three. It seated against the metal. She stopped, breath held shallow. Her fingers loosened their grip. She reached for the spanner Kassia held out. Took it. Fit the tool head over the bolt. Turned. Click. Click. Tight. She sat back on her heels, pulling her hand back, letting it rest on her lap. Let out a long breath through her nose. Her gaze remained on the secured valve fitting.


    Kassia moved on, connecting the adjacent pipe joint, wrench clicking against the fitting. Anna stayed kneeling for another minute, head bowed, eyes tracking the lines of the valve she''d just secured. She pushed herself upright, using the purifier frame for leverage, the movement slow, muscles straining beneath her jacket. She moved back to the crate, sinking onto it. Picked up the dataslate again, screen flickering green. Her finger tapped a schematic section on the screen, magnifying it.


    Work resumed. Kassia maneuvered heavier components. Anna directed, checked fittings where reachable, her movements showing limited range, precision maintained. Milo continued sorting smaller parts nearby, occasionally bringing a fitting or tool to Kassia, his gaze following the progress of the build.


    The wind shifted, blowing off the sea, carrying spray that misted over the platform, slicking metal surfaces, beading cold on skin. Clouds overhead darkened, thickened, pressed lower. The gray light faded.


    They worked on the central pump housing next. Kassia guided it onto its mounting bolts. Anna checked the alignment marks against the dataslate display, head angled. "Half a centimeter left," Anna stated, voice rough against the wind. Kassia nudged the heavy housing with her shoulder. A scrape of metal sounded. "Hold," Anna said. Kassia braced the housing. Anna reached out with her good hand, bracing herself against the frame, fingers probing the base flange, comparing its position to the diagram. Nodded once. "Bolt it down."


    Kassia started the bolts, wrench clicking. As she worked, Anna scanned the platform perimeter. Her gaze found Zaltana again. The older woman stood ten paces away. Arms crossed. Face lined, skin texture visible, partially shadowed by the brim of her oilskin hood pulled up against the wind. Her stare fixed on Anna. Anna looked away, back to the dataslate, tapping the screen to bring up the next assembly step.


    Kassia finished bolting the pump. Straightened up, rolling her shoulders with a grunt. "Stabilizing lines next?" she asked, glancing towards the rock outcrop, then at the spare cargo straps lying nearby.


    Anna nodded. "Need that mooring line though. Ask again. Stress the frame needs it for the pump weight."


    Kassia sighed, the sound brief against the wind, but nodded. Wiped her hands on her trousers. Walked back towards the line of islanders near the cliff path. Anna watched her go. Watched her speak to the same wiry islander as before. Saw his head shake. Saw Kassia gesture towards the purifier, towards the sea. Kassia maintained her position. Spoke again, voice lost in wind, her stance firm. The islander paused, glanced towards Elara who stood further down the path overseeing net repairs. Elara gave a small nod. The islander muttered something, then pointed towards a coil of thick, dark rope near a stacked pile of lobster pots. Kassia gave a curt nod, turned, retrieved the heavy rope coil, dragged it back across the rock towards the purifier.


    "Got it," Kassia said, dropping the coil near the frame with a heavy thud. "Said it''s the only spare. Don''t fray it."


    Anna looked towards the islander group. The wiry man who''d given the rope stood with his back turned. Others watched Kassia secure the line, their faces showing little expression. Zaltana remained separate, unmoving, her gaze fixed on Anna.


    The air held the damp chill, cold salt spray. Zaltana''s fixed stare persisted.


    Anna turned back to the dataslate, her focus returning to the next connection diagram, the pattern of pipes and pressures. Wind howled around the rock shelf.