After Days - Chapter 7

Sea crashed against the facility suspended only meters above the water by thick metal stilts, shaking it with each lashing wave. Rain hammered it from above, though the architect had foreseen this sort of weather, it showed in the complex system of slopes and grooves, serving as gutters which carried the ever flowing water away. Berlin was a storm. Small orange, green and red lights signalled to pilots of the small scouter craft and the enormous Hailbard zeppelins, and yet they still managed to turn the facility into a somewhat impressive spectacle of metal and technology.

Dedicated coordinators and personnel manned their stations, hurrying from task to task to ensure the smooth operation of the station. It was not an ambition to be that one person who forgot to do that one thing and ended up being tossed into the sea.

Another Hailbard descended from the storm clouds, focussing its search lights to the rig below, hovering safely out of range until contact could be made. It was standard protocol to take precautions before every docking, ever since the station in China had been compromised. General Halsey had been there that day and knew first-hand how crucial it was to ensure security of the Hailbards. His ‘Tin-man’ had not been responsible for the intrusion, but his associates were. He waited patiently at the helm for an ally to dial through.

“Tuer er vamdlas nald cepd. Ikimdehi?” A controller transmitted to the Hailbard.

A smile of satisfaction came to Halsey, it was refreshing to hear a dock controller take security seriously. The security was questionable but efficient. The development of a new, shorthand language was requested after China. This ensured that, no matter what the controller had asked, an outsider would have no hope of giving the right reply. “Urs feiklun.” He replied clearly, applying emphasis to the second ‘u’.

Literally the conversation had gone as follows. “The sky is blue today. Correct?” “It’s black.”

“Indeed General. Identify.” The controller questioned, satisfied that security had been cleared. The conversation from here on was simply a formality.

“General Trent Halsey.” He answered proudly, awaiting the slew of usual compliments that seemed to cover his path whenever he introduced himself. He was somewhat infamous throughout Celestia.

The line went silent for a long, awkward moment, scrunching Halsey’s face. His head darted across to his Communications Master, only to see his screen decorated with a successful, error free log of transmissions. The grip on his cane squeezed as his annoyance built. “Berlin, confirm receipt?”

“Receipt confirmed.”

The General’s cane creaked as it almost buckled under his insulted grip.

Another long moment passed before anything was said. The atmosphere in the cockpit was heavy and tense. The General’s staff did not want to be subject to one of his outbursts. He was a loyal and surprisingly caring man, though his restraint was easily broken.

“My apologies, General, but I must advise that you seek dock elsewhere.” There was hidden concern in the Controller’s voice, as though he were trying to defend Halsey against unnecessary hurt.

Halsey slammed the edge of his fist into the wheel’s pillar. “Explain yourself, man!” Everyone around him flinched as he barked.

“General, I implore you to dock elsewhere.” The same hint was there, what was he trying to cover up?

“And I implore you to understand the position you find yourself in. Allow me to land or I will toss you into the sea.” He did not yell, his voice was low and stern as he made his intentions known.

“Hello Trent.” Greeted a new voice, belonging to an aged man. It immediately sent shivers through the General, shock blanketing his insult at the manner in which he was addressed. The room fell quiet, rain lashing against the windows offered at least some distraction for the men, and then clung to it.

“I may be mistaken, but I do believe you just threatened my staff.” The gentleman reminded.

“Ignorance cannot be ex-”

“Excused?” The voice finished the General’s argument. “It is inexcusable to refuse an order from a member of superior rank, and the suggestions that were given to you were, in fact, direct orders from myself. So allow me to explain your situation to you, since you were so eager to explain your supposed intensions to my man here. If you insist on docking here, I will gun you down before you can extend your landing gear.”

“I understand, Master General.” Halsey accepted.

Shuffling consumed the room as the men checked to see who had answered the voice, surely it couldn’t have been General Halsey submitting so easily. As it happened, it was, and to make it more unusual, he accepted his orders with an almost grateful smile.

“Good decision, Trent.” A smug acknowledgement of victory oozed from the ships speakers.

“Major Thomas, take the helm.” Halsey ordered as he left the post, Thomas quickly jumping to his command. “Take us into the clouds and hold her steady. Turner, wake the Lieutenant and tell him to meet me in storage in 4 minutes.” He yelled his orders as he paced quickly down the corridor from the control room. Men quickly appeared as they were summoned, accepted their task, and then disappeared back into the muddle of walkways to complete it. “Hudson.” He addressed the man who had followed him from the helm.

“Yes, General?” His accent was strong and foreign, different from the other men. “How may I serve?” He was surprisingly young but he had an edge to his expression which spoke of his experience.

Halsey turned to his subordinate with a grin, almost one of a childish nature. “Prepare three howlers and take them to the storage bay.”

The soldier accepted the General’s demands, though he had to hesitate and seek clarifications. “Sir? Howlers?”

“You’re an intelligent man Hudson, I don’t need to tell you again.” The General kept his word and quickly sprinted up a narrow stairway, trusting the men around him to do their job and do it well.

 

* *  *

 

“I knew a Hawaiian girl once, woke me up at the crack of dawn and told me to try walking on hot coals. Thing is she made it worthwhile. But this, this is going to take a lot more than just a back massage to fix.” Dexter protested as he slipped his arms into the thin, carbon fibre frame of the Howler.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me, Lieutenant.” Halsey promised as he too climbed inside the light weight suit.

“You seem pretty sure of yourself.”

“You wanted to see the boy too didn’t you? This is the only way to make sure that happens.”

Dexter stopped for a moment, ignoring his Howler’s required preparations. He nodded as his lower lip crept over his top one, his brow lifting in approval. “I think that just might do it.”

Hudson had already finished locking himself into his suit, but he continued to check, double check and triple check the clasps and buckles while the other men negotiated. He wasn’t used to seeing his superiors this way, almost unprofessional, but it had been a nice change of pace so he thought no less of them. He had been so caught up in his superior’s conversation that he hadn’t noticed the bewildered look staining his face.

“What’s the matter Corporal? Never jumped from twenty-thousand feet before?” Dexter said as he tightened the straps around his chest, the metal arms bending to his movements.

The Lieutenant’s question snapped Hudson from his daydreaming, catching him off guard but he still managed to answer honestly. “This will be my fourth jump, sir. It’s just…” He bit his tongue before he risked causing offence to Dexter.

“Just what?” Halsey prompted, the micro-engines at his back whirring to life.

“Well…I just expected you to get more from the Hawaiian girl.” He immediately regretted opening his mouth along with the look that gave him away in the first place. As soon as the finished, the General and Lieutenant looked to each other, sharing the same stern look. ‘Shit.’ That moment which lasted only seconds felt like an hour. Looks like he would be the one getting thrown into the sea. Suddenly, the two other men burst out laughing, startling Hudson, even if the General was somewhat holding back his chuckle.

“You’re alright, kid. You’ll do fine.” Dexter promised as he wiped a tear from his cheek.

The men of higher rank loved this sort of work, it was far less stressful leading a small squad than commanding an entire battleship, and besides, they may be leaders but they were soldiers first and foremost. The General had lost his crisp, straight suit and kepi, swapping it out for field gear – a kevlar jacket, black trousers riddled with pockets and pouches, protective goggles, calf-high boots and an array of knives and small firearms strapped about his person. No sign of his beloved cane. Dexter was typical Dexter, wearing very much the same as Halsey, but less thorough. Some of his pockets hung empty instead of being packed with bandages and ammunition but he was surprisingly well equipped with a selection of tools to be used as diversions.

“If we get caught, I give you twenty-five seconds before you’re dead.”

“Oh Dexter, ever the optimist.” Halsey said as he slapped the back of his fist against a domed red button on the wall of the storage compartment. Two huge double doors moaned open, revealing the wild seas and hellish weather below. “Besides, the Master General said we weren’t to dock, and we’re not.”

The three men did their last minute checks on their gear as the doors locked open, though Dexter had been caught up in the talking and hadn’t yet finished fastening himself into the Howler, let alone doing his pre-jump checks. “You’re a quick son of a bitch, I’ll give you that.”

Hudson loved this. Both of his superiors had very fixed reputations, and on deck, giving commands, they lived up to them – fierce, great, loyal, intelligent – but down here they were just two normal soldiers diving head first into their work. It was clear to him that they had been friends long before they climbed to such high ranks. He silently hoped that after this he may be considered something of a friend too.

One by one they dropped themselves out of the Hailbard, plummeting towards the rig head first. Dexter turned end over end as he finished his setup during the dive. Why worry when he had no need for worry? He kicked his legs to level himself out once all of the clasps were properly locked.

The soldiers dropped faster than the rain as it splashed against their goggles upon approach. They soon hit terminal velocity, but they needed more speed, the trio of engines burst into life on the backs of the Howlers, firing the unit down towards its target.

Using a Howler was part of basic training, but like all things, some men excelled at it, others were merely acceptable. The General had already relayed the plan of entry to his companions, and each knew exactly what they must do. Timing would decide everything. That’s why Hudson had been invited along, his capabilities with a Howler were responsible for all of his promotions – flying only one mission per promotion while aboard Trent Halsey’s Hailbard - until this point.

Finally the squad fell below deck level, being sure to pass the side with the least windows. It was now or never. Broad, flat wings snapped from the sides of the Howlers, moments before they hit the waves. Their dive had gone perfectly as the trio skimmed above the water’s surface, lifting occasionally to accommodate for the waves as they circled the base. They checked the parameter once, twice, three times, before being comfortable that their plan was in fact the best option for them to take.

With the flick of a wrist, the General’s wings tilted, lifting him higher in smooth, controlled curves as he led his team towards the platform, the same one which they had expected to land the zeppelin on. The engines blazed harder as they steadily came in to land. In close succession, all of them made it safely to Belfast Station. Halsey turned to ensure that his ship was still shrouded by the clouds, he assumed it was. They had not broken the Master General’s orders so they didn’t have anything to fear from the men aboard, but equally, those already aboard were not the reason that they had come armed.

The boy, if he was everything the report said he could be, the enemy would surely be on their way to try and claim him for themselves. If that were to happen, the General would be sure to have the sea busy with rebel corpses.