//------------------------------// // Holding Aces Until The Last Second // Story: Yaerfaerda // by Imploding Colon //------------------------------// “How many God damn shit eating airships do they have?!” Haman bellowed, his voice rolling across the Gamma vessel's bulkheads. While the Tarkington spun circles around them, a goblin crew member ran up from below deck. “Boss, sir!” He saluted. “We just ran a scan after the last volley! Sensors detect four skystone signatures in total! Ours. Our sister ship. This bogey.” “And who's the fourth?!” Haman's eyes narrowed, and then he gasped, his multiple chins wobbling. “The Jury...” He turned and glared at the arid mountains to the south. “Nrrnnngh...” Two of his metal claws bent deck panels loose in frustration. “They're still in one piece?!” “What should we do, sir?” “Call in the other ship!” Haman yelled. “They've managed to split us up! We can't have that!” He pointed at the capital looming just beneath them. “Fire all weapons at the buildings below! No more distractions!” “But sir, they'll strike us while we're aiming at the structures!” “We came here to do one thing and we're not doing it!” Haman charged forward, knocking the gasping imp aside as he shouted at his gunners. “Load all cannons! Reduce Val Roa to rubble!” “Hold...” Zetta held a speaker tighter to her ear. “There's a crackle in their leylines. They're charging their weapons.” Her eyes narrowed, then twitched at the blinking lights of her console. She spun towards the Tarkington's cockpit. “All cannons are charged! Incendiary capsules!” “They must be t-targeting the city again!” Booster exclaimed. “These sodders just won't quit.” Prowse hollered over his shoulder while spinning over the bronze rooftops. “Basso! Load in the Brass Belch!” “Ah!” Basso ditched his cannon and trotted towards a netted cargo of missiles. “So we get to use that after all!” Booster adjusted his fractured goggles. “Use what?” “A wee somethin' I thought up while on the way over the Wastelands!” Prowse said. “Might wanna lend the big bloke a hoof.” “Uhhhh...” Booster watched as Basso heaved the massive tube over his flank and effortlessly carried it across the slender interior. “I think he's got it.” “It's full of highly flammable manapellets,” Prowse explained while Basso loaded the missile into a long horizontal metal chamber. “Crimson and Seclorum were nice enough to enchant the stuff. It should seak any heat source within proximity of the outburst.” “Fifteen seconds until the enemies weapons are fully primed!” Zetta shouted. Ch-Chtung! Basso jerked the chamber close with a huge, twisting lever. “Loaded!” “Well?!” Prowse lined the Tarkington up with the battleship and hollered. “Let 'er belch!” Basso slapped a red switch. Whap! POW! The Tarkington fired the missile out from its port side. Miniature rockets burst, propelling the cylinder over the rooftops of Val Roa and towards the waiting battleship. An imp on board the vessel lowered his spyglass and glanced at Haman. “They've fired a missile, Boss!” “Pffft. You call that a missile?” Haman frowned. “We can absorb worse than that.” He tilted towards the gunners. “Are the cannons loaded?” The goblins slapped the last armaments into place and saluted. “All clear!” “Then fire already—” KABLAAM! The Tarkington's missile exploded fifty meters in front of them. All of the goblins looked up. “What the...?” Haman blinked. “Sir, the missile exploded before—” “I can see that, but why...?” His pupils shrank. “Ohhhhhh ass.” The exploding missile had lingered in the air as a smoky cloud of dark black haze. In swift order, however, the north edge of the haze glowed with ethereal blue magic, then swarmed southward like a thick swarm of mosquitoes. Showering sparks, the pellets split off into separate streams, stretching like tentacles towards each of the propeller engines of the goblin battleship. The vessel shook, losing stabilization. Imps were thrown left and right as the propellers struggled to shake off the clumps of metallic debris. “Friggin'... horse magic...!” Haman spat. “We're losing our targets!” several imps hollered. “How could possibly lose the target?!” Haman frowned, clamping his metal limbs hard into the hull. “It's the damned ground!” He gestured with a flesh hand. “Just fire at will!” “Aye, sir!” One cannon along the port side pivoted towards the buildings below, charging up. Almost immediately, an errant cloud of metallic pellets sailed off a propeller and gathered around the end of the barrel. Haman's jaw dropped. “Wait, no—” POWWWW! When the cannon was triggered, it backfired, sending a plume of flame and shrapnel erupting into the dop deck, consuming four goblins immediately. Haman and the others sprawled for cover while the black pellets swirled and gathered around erupting heat, pushing the loose flame downwards so that it spread violently across the top deck of shrieking imps. “Whewwwwww boyo!” Prowse grinned, spitting across his red beard as he ascended the Tarkington for a better view of the carnage across the top of the vessel. “If that won't give them the runs tomorrow morning, I dunno what will!” “Is that it?!” Booster gasped. “Are they going down?” “Ach! Far from it, laddie!” Prowse flipped several switches and brought the ship into a gentle dive. “We'd have to fire five times our total armament to bring somethin' that bloody big down! But, if nothing else, we gave them somethin' to piss themselves over!” “Increased signal from the south!” Zetta exclaimed, flipping switches across her console. “The second goblin ship is inbound!” “The second one's here already?!” Basso exhaled, eyes wide. Zetta looked at the others. “I'm detecting the Noble Jury too. Their skystone signal's still there, but all other mana signatures are faint.” Booster gulped a lump down his throat, clinging to his gun turret. “Rainbow Dash, I really hope the others are doing better than we are...” “I know that these... m-may seem like trying times...” Chancellor Fishberry was sweating profusely by now. Her eyes darted constantly between the sea of angry delegates' faces and the solid rooftop above the meeting chamber. “...but... the... darkness is at its most... bleak... right b-before the sunrise...” She gulped, wincing as each word dribbled out before the soundstones. “...but we will prevail, for the spirit of Val Roa... lives in each one of us...” Far down below, Eine was trying his darn best not to vomit. “She's resorting to the basest of political rhetoric now! The situation's hopeless for her!” He turned to gawk at Kera. “What is the Duchess waiting for?” “If I didn't know better?” Kera said. “I'd say she was milking this until the most awesome moment.” “And what would you know about the spirit of Val Roa, monster?” Arcanista's voice rolled suddenly across the hundreds of seats and balconies. Kera smirked. “There it is.” Eine propped himself up on the edge and craned his neck to see better. Just a few levels lower and to the left of Fishberry's balcony, a tall elk lowered her hood. Her angry face pierced through the dim air of the place, landing on Fishberry's brow. “That is right. I called you a monster. For that is what you are. You and General Saikano and Secretary Sharp Quill!” The Council fell into stunned silence as the representative from Bountiful continued speaking. “Monsters who have taken this kingdom hostage, and alienated its own Prince!” Murmurs arose from every seat. Nevertheless, Fishberry frowned. “How dare you!” She pointed a cloven hoof. “You attacked me in my own office, you traitorous sociopath! Guards!” “The guards will no longer answer to your venomous commands and you know that!” Arcanista hissed. Floydien trotted up and stood valiantly alongside her. “Nor will they follow Sharp Quill. This facade ends today.” “But... h-how did you get out of...?!” Fishberry blinked, then her eyes flickered green. “...Saikano.” “How ironic, that the first courageous soul to refuse Chrysalis' maniacal plan is one of her own servants.” Arcanista turned towards the crowd and spoke boldly. “Just the day before yesterday, you heard the cautionary words of Princess Kera Tin Mehjj of the Xonan Empire! She told each and every one of you that a terrible monster had infiltrated the heart of Val Roa! Well, she very nearly paid the price for proclaiming such a truth... when Secretary Sharp Quill forcefully attempted to imprison both her and Prince Eine of the House of Evo yesterday!” The crowd erupted in panicked and shocked exclamations. “That is absurd!” Fishberry snarled. “You... y-you've always been desperate for power in this Council!” With a furious frown, she spat, “Are you so heartless that you would exploit a terrible tragedy such as the disappearance of our future king?!” Floydien glanced down at Kera's balcony. His red eyes narrowed calmly. The petite Xonan blinked. With an understanding gasp, she stood up straight and shot a beam of glowing magic into the air. “Prince Eine hasn't disappeared! He's alive!” She reached over and fiercely nudged the fawn's shoulder. Eine winced, but swiftly steeled himself with a tight frown. “It's true...” Clearing his throat, he spoke boldly to the Council. “It is true! Secretary Sharp Quill attacked Kera and myself without provocation!” Every head spun towards the lower end of the chamber. A few does and cows fainted while bucks stammered in awe. Fishberry was white as a sheet. “He was not himself!” Eine clenched his jaws. “Sharp Quill is an imposter! He and Fishberry have been leading both myself and this Kingdom astray! But thanks to the swift courage of Kera, Duchess Arcanista, and their Noble companions, my life has been spared so that I might intervene on Val Roa's behalf!” “But... but...” Fishberry shook her head, grimacing. “Your Majesty...” Her eyes narrowed. “Sharp Quill has pledged his life to the Royal House!” She gulped. “He's been this kingdom's most righteous steward ever since the untimely death of the King and Queen!” Arcanista and Floydien exchanged glances. Within the next breath, they stepped aside, and two powerful figures occupied the balcony in their wake. “That is impossible...” King Lunarius frowned as he stood closely alongside Queen Azira. “...for your King and Queen live!” He spat above the noise of resounding gasps. “And we are your prisoners no longer, creature!” The entire Council was livid. The elks and deer within couldn't figure out whether to shriek, bow, faint, or all three at once. Fishberry barely had a breath to keep her standing. Her eyes flickered again, and she muttered quietly, “We've... we've failed her...”