The giant Field Marshall Daktor sat amongst twisted metal and billowing white of the ruined airship, in his full armour, cradling a large bird.

It had taken some time to find the counsellor. He had carefully moved and shifted most of the collapsed structure aside himself to find the bird. The augmented strength of his armour allowed him to bend and pry most of the structure away ever so cautiously. Once Daktor found him, he had bellowed for his Lightning Corps Cavalry troopers.

He had sent them searching for the thought ring and arms of the counsellor, for, without the mind that was locked in the neck ring of the mechanical arms, the large black bird would only ever be that, a thoughtless bird. It had taken some time for them to be found. The cat woman had some type of droid appendages, complete, it was now obvious, with thrusters. In an eyeblink, she had jumped off the deck of the airship in a jet of air and took the mind and arms of the counsellor with her. Daktor had sent his men, the most select troopers of the People’s Army, to scour the area for the cat woman and the mechanics. Daktor had no doubt they would be successful, for if they weren’t, he would kill some of them. The counsellor’s mechanics had been found, but regretfully, his man reported with a wince that there was no sign of the beast-faced woman.

Now, the field marshall crouched, cradling a black bird. They had slipped on the thought ring to where it was to rest at the base of the bird’s neck and made sure the arms were not damaged. They ensured the goggles sat properly over the bird’s eyes, and then they waited.

Any other soldiers of The People’s Army had been sent away. Only the men of the marshall’s cavalry were at the crash site of the wrecked airship, and they had changed their search for any sign of the ambassador. Men he trusted. He had done everything he thought the counsellor would have ordered done.

He held the spindly bird across his lap now, cradled in his arms. Daktor had redressed the bird in its concealing cloak and hood. He knew how the counsellor hated seeing his own form. Now, he just waited to see if the counsellor’s mind would reattach and reawaken. He knew from past experience that it was a dangerous thing to have a bird brain separated from its thought ring for any period of time.

Daktor watched for that flick of intelligence to the eyes that would either come or not come. Reintroducing the mind was an unstable time for the animal, and often, it could not be done.

Suddenly, the bird’s head jerked, and the eyes shifted with animal confusion. Fear. Instinct flooding bright in them with the want to escape, to run away. It squawked and jabbered at him, its beak clacking to bite, its feet clawing. Daktor held the bird tighter as it struggled. And then… a settling. A focus. Its eyes stilled as a calmness flooded through the creature. It relaxed and made soft, thoughtful cooing noises while he held it.

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When the machine voice spoke, Daktor felt a rush of relief.

“The sun is much too high. I have been… disabled for far too long. What has happened?” The bird moved the machine arms and raised them up, the delicate components hinging like shoulders from the neck ring. It flipped its hands back to front and flexed its fingers.

“We have been trying to recalibrate you since this morning, Counsellor. The Wayfinder and Wayfarers released the pods, escaped in them, and crashed the ship. The ambassador, I believe, is still buried somewhere in all this wreckage. My men search for him now.”

“The Wayfarer encampment?”

“Empty, sir. Entirely deserted. We figure they escaped under the guise of collecting water.”

“Secure the city,” the counsellor said. “How did they get into the pods?”

“We have the city surrounded. Old Badger passed them the tech to open and steal the pods. I think he had been working on accessing the pods for some time. It is the only explanation.”

“Badger. Traitor! That would explain a lot of what has been happening lately. Did he survive?”

“Yes, Counsellor. I have been questioning him in my command tent. He... he is resistant.”

“What did he tell you? Who are these people that have done all this?”

“He… He only continues to speak of the same thing. Regardless of how much pain I cause him. He only repeats an old story of a cantina. A card game in a cantina at the farthest west of the world’s edge. Tells of a clockwork that appeared self-aware. He speaks of this ‘miracle’ in the cantina run by a lizard man and a bird brain. He tells of the people in the cantina that night. The night of a storm.”

The counsellor sat bolt upright and had Daktor by the front of his armour. The metal blades of his hands were scoring lines into the carapace of his breastplate.

“Did you follow the escape pods? Tell me you followed the escape pods!”

“No, Counsellor. How was I to? We have no way to.”

The counsellor released him. “I have tech on my boat we will use to track them.”

An explosion rocked the air and a black cloud bloomed up out of the canal and rolled higher into the sky like a huge smoke ring. The counsellor shook himself free of the field marshall, walked to the ridge, and stood. He watched his boat crackle and hiss as it sank into the water. He turned slowly to face Daktor.

“It seems the deck has been stacked against us, and the card game has started long ago. These are hand-picked men of yours around us? You trust them?” the counsellor asked.

“I make sure they are completely devoted to me, sir. I hold their lives in my hand.”

“The ambassador is a fool. If you find him alive, he will die from the injuries he received in today’s sabotage. We’ll blame it on the Wayfarers. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Counsellor.”

“Where is the princess?”

“She went after the staff. They were locked into the aft pod right before it launched.”

“Take your cavalry and search for them. Bring me that staff and make sure the princess doesn’t survive.”