The bombastic sound of trumpets filled the air, followed by a thrilling orchestral piece. It reminded Terry of the one playing in the background of the Skyfleet recruitment ads. Accompanying the music was the title card: ‘Welcome to Skyfleet Academy’.
Appearing on screen was an aerial shot of three skyships flying in formation over a body of water. The camera slowly circled around them as a narrator began to speak.
“Greetings, Skyfleet Cadets,” it said in a deep, thick voice. Once again, Terry was reminded of the Skyfleet recruitment ads. In fact, he was sure the narrator of it and this were one in the same. “Welcome to Skyfleet Academy. I am Admiral Scott Carpedium, supreme commander of our organization. My duties preclude me from seeing you in person at the moment, but be assured I shall once your training is complete...”
“I swear,” Benny whispered to Terry. “The admiral could read a phone book with that voice and it’d still sound epic.”
To Terry’s surprise, he actually had to agree with Benny on that one.
On the screen, the image switched to a map of the Silver Republic. The nation encompassed the majority of a large, rectangular continent, with scattered islands lining it. At the southern part of it, a large bay stretched far inwards, all the way to a small dot labeled ‘Axis Mundi’.
“...Just like the experiment that is the Silver Republic, we too are embarking into unknown waters,” the admiral continued. “In the history of the four races, nothing close to Skyfleet has ever been attempted…”
Again, the scene switched on screen. This one showed a number of individuals, dwarf and human, wearing spiffy suits in some sort of board room. Two of them appeared to be in a heated discussion in front of a black board. A zilgling queen was in the room, too, her bridge-shaped head almost touching the ceiling. It was hard to tell exactly with the whole movie being in black and white, but this one appeared to be of a lighter hue than the zilglings Terry had seen before. There was also an older, dwarf woman in the background, her wild hair framing a bemused smile on her face.
“Hey, isn’t that grandma?” Gnessia said.
“It is!” Bedrock said, pointing to a dwarf woman. “Heh, I’ll be damned.”
“...Despite this, you will not be walking into matters blind,” the admiral continued. “Some of the brightest minds in the Republic have contributed to a curriculum that will allow you to excel aboard a skyship. In a month’s time, you will choose which career path you wish to begin...”
Terry sighed in relief. A whole month’s time. It seemed Skyfleet was anticipating new recruits not knowing exactly what they wanted to do.
“...But first, there will be an intensive training regiment designed to familiarize you with skyships in general, as well as heighten your physical and mental capabilities...”
“Great, sounds like there’s gonna be a lot of runnin’,” Bedrock groaned. “Bet this was grandma’s idea. Probably thought it’d be funny to see a bunch of dwarves haulin’ it. Annnd of course, I forgot to bring me damned boots.”
Benny grinned wickedly his way. “Told you your feet were gonna hurt.”
“...For those of you who have signed up to become crew members and not ground support, your acclimation will begin immediately after this orientation. You will be assigned quarters on the same ship you shall be serving on after graduation, and will eat, sleep, and fulfill other bodily requirements aboard it from now on…”
“Hehe,” Benny giggled. “He’s talkin’ bout poopin’.”
“Ew, gross,” Gnessia said. “One thing I’m glad levikin don’t have to do.”
“I always thought you just pooped rocks or somethin’,” Benny shrugged.
“That’s cus you never paid attention in class!” Terry said.
“Hey, will you guys pipe down?” another nearby cadet hissed. “You’ve been talking the whole time! Trying to pay attention, here!”
“Sorry,” Terry apologized.
“Who was talking?” Benny said with a smirk. “Im’a give em’ a stern talking to after this.”
“Shut up, Benny,” Terry sighed, almost wanting to put his face in his palms.
“...Your skyship, for all intense and purposes will be your home from now to as long as you remain in Skyfleet… and it it is imperative that caution be used aboard, even if safety incidents have been at a minimum. Parachutes must be worn at all times when in ground-sight sections or in any open section exposed to hazardous weather. Failure to comply can and will result in tragedy.”
Terry imagined a ghostly exclamation point appearing above his head upon hearing that. He never really considered just how dangerous just falling off the side of one of these things could be, as foolish as it sounded. Without a parachute, a ‘man overboard’ on a flying ship would be a guaranteed death.
Indeed, to emphasize the danger, the screen switched to a rather crude cartoon of a man falling from the clouds, his arms flailing as he did. It was accompanied by a stock scream sound effect Terry could have sworn he heard before: ‘Wilhem’s Wail’ or something.
The video then switched to a scene of a group of individuals, parachutes on their back, leaping from the deck of a skyship. One flying so high it was above a layer of clouds. Even if the camera wasn’t too close, Terry could have sworn he saw sheer panic on one individual as they leapt. An individual who looked quite familiar, though it was hard to pinpoint who in the split-second Terry saw them.
“To ensure proper use of such parachutes, you will be doing jumps during your training. You must complete three of these to graduate.”
“Oh no,” Terry heard Bedrock whisper.
Apparently, Terry wasn’t the only one apprehensive.
The video went on for another fifteen minutes with the admiral going through the tenets and core mission of Skyfleet, emphasizing a number of times that this organization was meant for peacekeeping, not warfare.
“As we have learned so many times in the past, war is many things: with the most common element being a failure of some sort: a failure of diplomacy, a failure of a populace to be vigilant against those who promote it for their gain, a failure of government to keep war hawks out of power, and most importantly, a failure to remember. As a vanguard of peace, you must lead the way with this in mind, for the guilt ends with you, and from knowledge flees fear.”
Good luck, cadets. And again, welcome to Skyfleet Academy.”
The screen flickered off. Terry half expected a bit of applause to follow it, but there was actually a mix of enthusiastic murmurs and disgruntlement.
“...What a bunch of pretentious nonsense…”
“...Finally, a military with its head out of its ass…”
“...The Silver Republic needs to stop with this Mizzy Bear shit or it’s not going to last long…”
“...This is so exciting! It’s like being in the Silver Scouts but advanced!...”
“...The Great War really did slap some sense into people, I guess, just like Xarm predicted…”
“Alright, glad to see you’re all awake,” Benny said, addressing the murmuring audience. “Time to scooty-doot doo, though.”
“You mean… you mean follow you?” a cadet asked.
“Yeah, that.”
And so they did. Benny led them from the auditorium, back to the lobby, then into a storehouse area. Then, they took a large cargo elevator as one big group all the way up past the twentieth floor: to the roof.
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Waiting for them there, much to Terry’s chagrin, was Commander Black.
He understood that military commanders, even pseudo-military commanders, had to put on a certain air of gruffness. This was especially true with the second-in-command, whom Terry thought may have had a similar function to a vice-principal: to be the bad guy. However, Black seemed to almost have a sadistic glee in how she carried herself. Serving under her was going to be a challenge in and of itself, which was only further emphasized by how she greeted them.
“So, how many of you little peepants nubbies are gonna quit after hearing about the sky diving?” she said, an almost hopeful look in her eyes as she looked over the group. “Please let me know now so I don’t gotta bother to learn your names.”
No one dared make a peep.
“Come on,” she begged. “Anyone?”
“I mean,” Benny said. “What if we told them about Jimmy the Jumper?”
“Who?” Black said, narrowing her eyes and scanning him over like a cat’s.
“Oh, I was gonna make up a story about someone who jumped off the Yuletide Truce after getting drunk,” Benny said.
“We’re not ‘prank buddies’, ensign, or whatever you think is going on here,” Black snarled. “In fact, just for that little comment, you’re going to be helping me with paperwork the rest of the evening, and unfortunately for the both of us, I don’t drink on the job.”
Terry was positively stunned. Black was making him feel bad for Benny, now. The sympathy was a bit unwarranted, however, as Black’s words seemed to bounce off Benny as if he was made of iron, emphasized by his reply: a mere, bored, “Kay’.”
"Your apathy both infuriates and impresses me," Black noted, before turning back to the group. “Alright then, since you’re all sticking around, it’s time to be introduced to my ship, the Yuletide Truce.”
Terry had been so focused on Black he hadn't had time to take a good look at them. Like he had seen from the train, near the center of the roof was a lattice scaffold that extended another twenty or so stories into the sky. Docked by the catwalks that fanned out from its upper portions was the awe-inspiring sight of three, large, metal ships defying gravity.
Black pointed to the medium sized one relative to the others. It had a rectangular shape, with the top portion slanted downwards towards the bow and folded in slightly. Gargantuan propellers were fitted to the stern, with four large maneuvering propellers adjourned to the sides of it. These appeared to be attached to large, metal rods which themselves were attached to what appeared to be rotational hinges.
From what Terry remembered from the orientation video, these could extend outward or fold inward when needed to provide the skyship extra speed or precision turning. They could also move the ship upwards and downwards, rotate it vertically, or even horizontally. He wasn’t sure what the cosignius crystal couldn’t cover a lot of that, but that was something to ask Bedrock about.
The bow was different from the rest of the ship: a saucer shaped construction. It was almost completely lined with windows, too, which would give whoever was within a wide-angled view. It only made sense that that was the bridge.
Oh, and there were guns. A decent amount, too. Most of them appeared to be small in size. Various types of machine guns and flak cannons, from what he could tell. He could count about ten of them on the starboard side alone, mounted on half-circle platforms jutting from the main structure, mounted to ball-like turrets from the belly, or just sticking out of embrasure slits from the interior like pin-needles on a porcupine. From the angle he was at, he couldn’t see what was bolted to the upper deck, but he assumed there were even more there.
Then there were the bigger weapons. Not too many, but their size made up for their lack in numbers. Three were attached to a turret which protruded from the belly of the beast. He assumed there was another turret mounted topside with a similar number. And finally, there was one last turret mounted underneath the bridge with only two cannons.
All of this painted an ironic picture: the ‘Yuletide Truce’ was ready to make war.
“Speak softly and carry a big stick,” Spot said, as if he was quoting someone. Like before, he was hanging slightly away from the group, thus his words were barely audible. “Wise, master.”
Terry partially agreed. He knew Skyfleet’s skyships tended to be armed just from looking at photos of them, and it made sense to a degree. But seeing it in person did fill him with a slight bit of unease.
“That thing is as heavily armed as a maritime cruiser,” Bedrock whispered. “What kind of ‘peace-keeping’ ship is this?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Black groaned sardonically. “The kind of peace-keeping ship that’s gonna keep you alive?”
Terry swallowed hard. It was becoming crystal clear that Black had better ears than an elephant man. Or woman, in this case.
“Look, children, I don’t like the idea of having to shoot at our problems any more than you do,” Black sighed. “But unfortunately, we don’t live in the land of cotton candy and puppy-dog tails. This nation is crawling with heavily armed bandits, and the seas are filled with…”
For the first time, Terry saw a twinge of discomfort shoot across her face.
“...Pirates. All the military goodies that weren’t swept up after the Great War? The ships that the ever-competent Founding Four nations ‘lost track of’. Guess who got ahold of them? And keep in mind, we won’t just be sitting around this lousy continent. One of our founding mandates is to explore. There are other lands out there, including the homeland of our illustrious captain, and we don’t know what’s waiting for us there.”
“What about the ten tenets of Skyfleet, though?” Gnessia asked. “About always looking for a peaceful solution?””
“Ah, good, someone actually paid attention to the orientation video,” Black said, looking her way with the slightest hint of approval. “I’m going to be blunt: all that peace-loving stuff is mostly meant to deprogram the more trigger-happy dipshits among you from reaching for your guns first.”
A few of the crowd murmured in disgruntlement at hearing that, though Black could seemingly care less.
“It isn’t meant to turn you into pacifists,” she continued. “We’re using a sledge-hammer to whack a nail; we wanna make damn sure that thing is in there. Yes, it is Skyfleet policy to only use violence as a last resort, but if it comes to that, what do you propose we fight them with? Your brother’s B.O.?”
Bedrock quickly sniffed his own armpit, before wincing. “Hey, not muh fault the train didn’t have showers!”
“Fair enough,” Black nodded. “But why don’t we have a looksie at the rest of the ship before judging a book by its cover, mmm’kay?”
She held two fingers up to her mouth before making a loud, ear-piercing whistle.
“Come, nubbies,” she called.
With that, she led them to the lattice tower near the center of the roof. In the center of its transparent form was another large elevator that would take them to the top of it.
Terry couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as he boarded it. While the elevator had high railings, meaning he couldn’t realistically fall off it very easily, it was utilitarian to a tee. It was open to the elements, and as it began to rise, he could hear the various gears and clanks it needed to function begin to sound off. Why, oh why, couldn’t they just land this thing in a nearby field and board it there?
Despite it all, Terry was able to keep his nerves under control at first. He focused on examining the skyship as they gradually rose parallel to its underbelly. From here, he could see windows and portholes. He could have sworn he even saw someone looking out of one at him.
But just about half-way up, he made the dumbest mistake he possibly could have: looking down.
Immediately, his legs felt like jello, and the roof below became distorted: zooming in at the center of his vision while zooming out at his peripheral vision. It was nauseating to say the least. And while he didn’t want to have to drink some of his calming potion in the middle of the group, this was becoming an emergency. He snatched the bottle from his pocket, practically bit the cork in half pulling it off, and swallowed some of the spicey golden liquid.
He did a bit of deep breathing along with it, and within thirty seconds, waves of calm began to wash over him. Coming out of his happy place, he once again noticed the world around him. To his horror, the first thing he noticed was Commander Black was looking right at him.
Yet for whatever reason, she didn’t say anything to him. Her gaze shifted elsewhere.
He noticed movement to his left: Bedrock was frantically stroking his beard, shivering slightly. Apparently, he was realizing heights weren’t his thing too, as bad of timing as it was.
“Here, take some of this,” Terry whispered, offering Bedrock the rest of his calming potion.
Bedrock seemed slightly unsure of it, but nevertheless, he quickly nodded, before snatching the potion and downing the rest of it. Apparently, dwarves metabolized it even more quickly than humans, because almost immediately, his shiverning ceased and his pupils dilated ever so slightly.
“Great Bearded Devido,” he sighed, giving Terry a thankful look. “Thanks for that, lad.”
“You okay, B-Rocky?” Gnessia asked quietly.
“Er, yeah,” he said, not looking at her directly. “I’m fine.”
“Just shared with him some, um, really good lemonade,” Terry said.
“From a potion bottle?” Gnessia said skeptically.
“Alchemical lemonade,” Bedrock nodded.
“Yeah, alchemical lemonade,” Terry agreed. “It’s a new thing from, uh, Oz.”
Gnessia’s various rocks rotated around her slightly more slowly. A sign she was becoming less agitated. “Just… just don’t get drunk off whatever that is, okay?”
“Ya’ know I don’t drink, sis,” Bedrock whispered.
Terry raised his eyebrows. He always thought of dwarves as being heavy drinkers. Of course, the whole ‘dwarves drink a lot’ thing could have just some sort of stereotype. It wouldn’t be the only preconception that had been shattered for him these last few days.
“My brother,” Gnessia said proudly. “The only sober dwarf.”
Okay, maybe it really was a dwarf thing. They did have two stomachs, after all. While Terry didn’t know how that in particular could help with mitigating alcohol, maybe they had other physiologically differences, too, other than the obvious.
“Hush!” Bedrock said, glancing at the other dwarves in the group. “Not something I want public knowledge.”
As amusing as Bedrock and Gnessia’s antics were, a new issue was now gnawing at Terry’s mind on top of everything else. One that he had no opportunity to realize until now.
Terry, a future skyship crewman, was afraid of heights.
“Crap.”