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[[[FrivYeti/SaGDehelForward/SaGDeheleshenExpanded]] | Back to Deheleshen]]


"I think we're losing altitude." Tavos Shalee looked out of the zepplin's cockpit at the forest below, and then winced as another blast rocked the room. "Yeah, we're definately losing altitude." Her eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, were somber, and she clutched her daiklave protectively. At the range that this battle was occuring, it was useless to her, and she hated that feeling.

"Great. That's nice, really." Gervan flicked the comm on, one hand staying on the steering wheel as the other desperately altered gas flows. He slammed a button, and the ship shuddered as ballast gave way, falling to the forest floor. "Give me good news, hon." He kept his eyes fixed forwards, looking out over the landscape, and started an eastwards curve, letting Essence guide his actions. The comm crackled, as the woman on the other end spoke.

“Nothing I can’t fix!” As usual, Herena’s voice was confidant, but there was an edge to it that Gervan didn’t like. “Um… we’re starting to glow a bit, though. And I don’t want to have to patch too many more holes with Essence, or we’re really going to be in trouble. Could you maybe look into not letting them hit us?”

Gervan leaned out the window, looking up. Sure enough, the zepplin’s frame was glowing gold as Herena fed the energy into it required to keep it steady. As he looked back, a rocket flew past his head, and he pulled back hastily. He swore softly, and looked back. “How are things with the pursuit?”

“Bad.” Perched on the back of the zepplin, Strix raised his powerbow, firing a pair of arrows at the approaching planes. “We’ve got four Deheleshen fighters in hot pursuit, and they’ve got Dragon-Blooded acting as gunners. I mark two Essence cannons, four mundane rifles, and a cannon. Looks like we made some enemies.”

“Lovely.” Gervan sat back, playing with controls, and took stock of the situation. The Dragon-Blooded had mobilized with incredible speed, and had caught up to the fleeing zepplin far earlier than any of the Circle had imagined possible. “Whose idea was it to raid a Deheleshen convoy, anyway?”

“Yours.” Shalee grinned, her teeth sparkling, and leaned out the window again. “Good, you’ve got the altitude working now.” She paused, gauging distances. “Well, for now. I think we may still be slipping a bit. Do we have a plan, at all?”

“Yep.” Gervan left the comm on. “I’m curving us eastwards, away from the cities. Then we’re going to crash.”

“That’s not a plan.” Strix fired more arrows, trying to keep the harrying aircraft at a distance. “That’s an admission of defeat.”

“Any landing you can walk away from. The DAF will chase us anywhere we go, and we can’t lose them by air. So we have to go somewhere that they won’t follow.” Gervan kept his attention forwards, as he began to send the zepplin into a dive. “I suggest everyone braces; impact in two minutes.” For a moment, the zepplin was still, as his companions worked out his plan.

“Oh, no.” Shalee paled, looking forwards, and pointed to the ruins rising over the horizon, rapidly approaching. "You aren't thinking of -"

"I am." Gervan's face was grim. "We're going to crash in Hollow. The Deheleshen forces won't dare follow us in."

"With good reason! You've covered us getting in - how are we going to get out?" Shalee's eyes flicked back and forth, and she shook her head. "Bad plan. Bad plan."

"Maybe, but it's the only one we've got. I think we can survive Hollow; we won't survive these fighters. Impact in one minute." Gervan shrugged, sweat beading on his brow. Essence cannons roared, as the fighters realized the zepplin's destination.

"If we get out of this, dear - I'm going to kill you." Herena kept an air of chipperness in her voice, but the entire Circle could feel the tension in the air. Strix fired three more arrows, perched on the edge of the zepplin's balcony, ready to leap clear of the impact zone. Around them, the fighters broke off abruptly, unwilling to follow the criminals. The zepplin dove.

Hollow lay waiting.


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