Chapter 21: Valerie

"What the hell do you mean, there's a boat docked on my wall?" Captain Valerie Olgen asked a panting runner, as she handed the girl a skin of water, and waited for the messenger to catch her breath.

"Exactly that..." she panted, as she took small sips. "...ma'am. Big ship, flies... Tied itself to the wall, near the comm station."

The airship. That strange thing that had flown past the wall towards Rustov's section of the wall less than an hour ago. The strangest thing in a night of strange sightings and too little information. That ship would have answers, at least about what happened to Rustov.

The line for her cable-car had gone slack, and blooms of fire had flashed in the distance, just beyond the sight of the observation towers. Her aide and the soldiers she sent with him were still in the field, and she had no new information from any of her Lieutenants.

"Get some water, and catch your breath." She told the messenger. The comm station was less than a half hour walk, but her line of sight was blocked by one of the defensive towers. She decided to take the trip at a slow run, surprised by how eager she was to be moving.

"Sebastian, Elsa, with me." She ordered a pair of soldiers standing watch along the wall, who seemed startled by the call to action. They fell in behind her, and followed a few steps back as she jogged towards the watchtower.

The three of them passed underneath the Watchtower a few minutes later, nearly running into a small group of soldiers standing in front of the arms shed, in the poorly lit corridor. She was pleased to see the sergeant stop, salute, and shout "Attention!"

She smiled, recognizing the voice even in the dim light. "Sergeant Reeves." She said, as the pair of soldiers behind her saluted. She followed suit, and said, "you return to us. Were you successful?"

"Aye, ma'am. We didn't return the way we expected to, but the Fourth platoon is whole again." He said, clearly relieved. "We, ah, returned on an airship, ma'am. It's visible just past the Watchtower. Its Captain was hoping to meet you, at your pleasure."

Its Captain. So it was a military vessel. And the phrase 'at your pleasure' meant this airship Captain wasn't pressing any issues of rank or seniority. The ship might even be willing to take direction.

Abyss below. She could look for her missing Lieutenants.

She noticed there were nearly a dozen soldiers with Reeves, with small carts, and the now open doors that lead into the armoury. "You're taking my guns?"

"Outfitting the ship, ma'am. Our last engagement emptied our stock."

"Engagement?" Captain Olgen asked.

"Hot extraction. Gloamtaken cornered Rustov about half a mile past the cable-car dock. We encountered something new from beyond the last Wall. We wouldn't have made it without the ship's Captain."

Olgen shook her head, disbelieving. Something new? "Where's Rustov? And this Airship Captain? I want to debrief them, at least."

"At the ship, awaiting a communication from Central," Reeves replied. "And I should mention, ma'am, he wants your Valkyries."

She laughed, spitefully. "The Bore will freeze over first." She said, and started away. The others saluted, and her escort followed in step.

When she stepped out of the watchtower, she finally got a good look at the ship.

Something that massive shouldn't be able to fly. The steel hull blocked nearly half a dozen battlements, stretching along the Wall as if it were a part of the fortification. The ship glimmered in the dark, gleaming in the soft orange light that emanated from the bag the steel ship was chained to.

The soft glow of the lift bag was strangely muted, with a swirling grey pattern that resembled frost forming on still water. Eerily, neither the ship nor the bag swayed with the winds that swept over the walls.

The ship's main deck was flush with the wall, and the bottom dipped almost halfway to the ground, despite the immense height each wall was built to. The Bag rose high enough that it rivalled the Watchtowers.

"Burn me!" one of the soldiers behind her whispered.

"It's impossible." Valerie recognized Eliza Mendez's voice, and remembered her specialization. She was a mechanic, specializing in military equipment. She had a better head than most for the laws of nature that strange ship was breaking.

"It's a triumph of the City. And according to Sergeant Reeves, it already rescued six of our people," she said. Both of the soldiers with her straightened, and followed at a quick march as she drew closer to the crew busy at the improvised walkway.

She spotted Amelain almost immediately. Tall, with the arms that came from constant practice with the cumbersomely heavy officer swords, she always cut a distinct and imposing figure. Sergeant Redgrave was almost as easy to pick out, as the old soldier had a bearing officers trained their whole lives for, even with his disgraceful demotion at the hands of the present Lord Captain.

But she was surprised how easy it was to spot this airship Captain. He wore a Civilian's black coat, and his mud-brown hair seemed to glow faintly, similar to the lift-bag for the airship. But it was the crisp, military respect that even the nearby civilians showed that set him apart. It made him easy to spot, long before she caught sight of his sword.

A mechanic followed him, standing a few steps behind. Another odd presence, since her hair was too long for a mechanic. Regulations weren't strict, but heat and moving parts encouraged shorter cuts. The mechanic's hair also hung curiously close to her face, leaving her eyes in shadow.

As she approached, the Captain spotted her first, and to her surprise, called out, "The officer of the Wall approaches!"

It was old formality, rarely used except in Commissioning ceremonies, or, as she remembered, during an invasion.

She was surprised how distant the invasion still seemed, not having seen it herself yet.

At the ship Captain's shout, every soldier and crew-member stopped and turned to her, saluting. Even Valen and Amelian snapped to attention, smiling proudly as she approached them.

The mechanic, then the Captain saluted in turn. She returned the salute, and drew close enough to converse with the Captain. "Captain Valerie Olgen. Captain of the Ninth Company, fourth Brigade, Western Wall. Welcome, and I believe I owe you thanks."

"Captain Gerald Raeth, of the Midnight Songbird, ma'am," He said, offering his hand. She shook it, and was surprised to see a patch of grey in the hair of this clearly young man. He gestured to the mechanic, and added, "My Lieutenant, Lucille Kendor. My ship stands ready to assist."

"We could use it," Valerie admitted. She turned to Amelian, who approached to stand near Captain Raeth, and said "good to have you back, Rustov. Did it work?"

There was no need clarify her question.

Amelian nodded to her, her face lit up as if she were a small child. "Aye, ma'am. The Golem fell and did not rise."

"Abyss below," she whispered, in awe. "You kept a Golem from entering the City. I....." She floundered for a way to finish, struggling to not simply hug the girl. "I lack the words, Lieutenant."

"It's not all good news, ma'am," Amelian responded, carefully. She hesitated, glancing to Captain Raeth. "There's something new, with the invaders. The Captain can explain best."

"We encountered a creature of flame," The Airship Captain said. "A rider and a horse, made of fire, roughly eighteen feet tall. It wields the flame in a manner similar to a Crafter, and shrugged off enough firepower to shatter a causeway."

"Like a Crafter? How the hell did you survive? I can't imagine your ship is any more durable than that causeway."

"The Captain is also a Crafter, ma'am. Specially trained to fly and command this vessel," the Lieutenant in the mechanic's coat said. "He descended to cover Lieutenant Rustov's extraction. Our escape was a close thing."

A Crafter! An entire Company's worth of firepower at the fingertips of a single man, with a ship that could ignore the Gloam! No odds were impossible now, so long as she was careful.

She could extract her aide, and collect Curt and Barrow's platoons.

She could rescue Trask.

"Where is this Rider now?" She asked.

"Last we saw, it rode back out through the gap in the wall. At the pace it moves, it could have easily covered eight miles by now," Amelian said.

"Then the Rider might be behind the Wall still. We have a chance to get my missing people," she insisted. She noticed Amelian's surprise, and elaborated. "Trask, Curt and Barrow are all missing. Barrow's cable-car was cut; my aide has taken eleven soldiers to examine the broken car. And since you had Spendel, I suspect you know that Trask was reporting two Golems."

"Two Golems? So close to each other?" Captain Raeth asked, startled. "That has never happened before."

"So I need you to assist my missing soldiers, Captain," she said, as forcefully as she could manage. She was relieved when she saw him smile and nod in ascent.

"Of course, Captain. Unless Central has a priority dispatch for my ship, I don't see any more urgent need. I do have two requests, though."

She raised her eyebrow, but said, "Name them."

"I want Amelain Kendor and her platoon. They have already saved my life, and the Sixth Invasion has just begun. I need what she and hers can bring to my ship."

"And your second request?" she asked, choosing to not answer his question. A part of her wanted to grant his request immediately, and the rest of her was highly suspicious of that wayward reflex.

"I need Valkyries. As many as I can mount on my deck."

"Absolutely not," She blurted out. "I can't hold here without my guns, and I'm not leaving until I have my people. Further, Captain, you're staying here to help hold this position."

Most of the reactions to her declaration were fairly predictable. Amelian was shocked, likely at her abandoning protocol, and her old sergeant looked as if he wanted to cuff her across her head. The Lieutenant in the mechanic's coat glared menacingly, her gaze promising violence as she declared that the Captain remained with her.

Her only surprise was Captain Raeth, who nodded, thoughtfully. She had expected anger, disagreement, or even the infamous rage of a Crafter. Instead, she received measured restraint, and consideration.

"We don't hold, ma'am," Lieutenant Rustov said, and Valerie knew the tactical protocol she would recite. "We don't hold until we have to."

"I will not abandon them, so I will hold their escape route until they use it. We don't leave people behind," she insisted, surprised by how vehement she sounded as she spoke.

"Ma'am, the ship cannot fly without her Captain. Its lift is generated by The Craft," the ship's Lieutenant said, speaking slowly as if she were carefully choosing her words.

"Then the ship stays put," she said simply. "A damn shame, but I want the Crafter here in case the Golem hits my section of the walls. We'll have to go after Darius Curt and Third Platoon the old fashioned way."

She was slightly annoyed that Captain Raeth barely paid the conversation any attention, his gaze set out towards the horizon.

"Ma'am, I must protest," Amelian said, surprisingly loudly. "We can't hold here. We don't have the firepower to hold against a Golem. And we barely got away from that Rider, even with a Crafter on an Airship. We can't hold against what's out there!"

"Your own victories tonight suggest otherwise, Lieutenant," Valerie reminded her Lieutenant, firmly. "Part of me wants you leading the troops to relieve Curt and the Third, but I have almost half a company itching for something to do, and you just came from the field. Debrief your soldiers and get some rest."

Amelian began to speak, but a shout from one of the soldiers from the Lieutenant's platoon, a Private who looked entirely too young to be out on the front lines, dashed forward and saluted in front of Lieutenant Kendor.

"Ma'am, Spendel received a reply from Central. It's lengthy. He wrote it down, along with some news from the other fronts. Also, I..." the Private began, hesitating.

"We don't have a lot of time, solider. If it's important, spit it out," Valerie reminded the young man.

"Sorry, Captain. But I've been hearing something. I can't place what it is, and I've never heard anything like it before."

"I don't hear anything unusual," Valerie replied.

"Strange sound?" Captain Raeth asked, stepping forward until he was in arms reach of the young soldier. His fierce tone and nearly manic intensity was a startling change from his behaviour until now. "Does it sound similar to an explosion, with intervals between one and three seconds?"

"Exactly! Have you been hearing it too, sir?" the Private asked, excitedly.

"Feeling it, actually," Gerald scanned the horizon again, after giving the Private a quizzical glance. "The same way I could feel the Rider."

"There!" Lucille and Valen shouted almost in unison, both of them having dashed away to draw spyglasses and search the night. It took Valerie a moment to register the angle both of their arms were pointing at.

Up. Abyss below.

She dashed to Valen, and drew her spyglass to follow the old Sergeant's outstretched finger. What she saw left her veins cold and stopped her breath.

It looked like a bird, at first glance. Only birds don't give off light, and there is no life beyond the Last Wall.

As she watched, she swore she could hear the explosive beat of its fiery wings. The sound was strange; both a sharp piercing sound and a booming clap of thunder, that poked at her ears and beat at the air in her lungs.

"Amelian, get me those Valkyries," Gerald ordered, and Valerie found she had no will to argue. "Cassidy, rig up a plank strong enough to support those guns. Lucille, get me a piece of paper. Private, hold this."

Captain Raeth had drawn his sword, and was holding the point out towards the Private. It took her half a second to recognize that what Captain Raeth was holding was his officer's sword.

The sword with a cold-stone core.

"Michelson, hold!" she heard Amelain shout out, too late, as the Private had already taken the sword by the blade, as the Captain turned away and took a scrap of paper from the woman in the mechanic's coat, and started tracing his finger over it.

"Private, drop the damn sword!" Valerie barked, as Private Michelson held the sword in a firm grip with both hands, gingerly keeping the palm away from the blade. He threw his hands into the air, letting the sword clatter to the ground.

"Show me your hands," Amelian instructed, taking his outstretched fingertips and inspecting them. Valerie caught up a moment later, and saw that the young soldier's hands were undamaged, despite holding what is supposed to be a potent heat sink.

"The sword is genuine, ma'am. Valen tested it earlier." Amelian said, in answer to Valerie's unspoken question. Valerie nodded, with no interest in questioning the old sergeant's word.

And yet, the boy's fingers should be frostbitten, or worse.

"He's a potential," Gerald said, without looking up from his piece of paper. He ran his finger along the page a few more times, then folded it and handed it to Mitchelson.

"Potential?" Valerie asked, not understanding.

"If he's trained, he might become a Crafter," Gerald answered. He turned to Mitchelson. "Take this to your comm specialist, Spindel or Stencil or whatever his flame bitten name is. Make sure everything gets relayed correctly, then come back with him. We're leaving as soon as you get back," Gerald instructed.

The boy took the paper and saluted, before dashing off.

"Amelian, I don't see those Valkyries yet! Lancet, use the supply room door as a plank, it should do the job. Valen, send a detail to start packing Valkyrie shot onto the ship, and take the shelving. Let me know if you think it should be welded to the deck."

To her chagrin, Valerie watched as all of them saluted smartly before dashing off to their assigned tasks. None of them had questioned his decision to take her guns and soldiers, after sighting that thing on the horizon.

As the soldiers dashed away, Gerald turned to her, and said, "Apologies, Captain Olgen. I'm afraid I won't be able to assist you in rescuing your soldiers."

"I can allow Amelian's transfer. I get the feeling you'll make better use of her than I can. Especially with the flying creature coming towards us. But you cannot take my Valkyries. I have to hold this wall, and I can't fight that thing without my guns," Valerie insisted.

"Hold?" Gerald asked her, with a mixture of scorn and incredulity on his face. "Don't you understand? That thing flies! The walls are no barrier to it! It could fly straight to Central, and the only things that can even annoy it now are two Airships, one of which is stuck in a makeshift dock waiting for you to understand how serious this situation is."

"You think that thing will fly to Central? How much damage could it do?" Valerie asked, her mind unwilling to fathom the possibility. Something that could ignore the walls could assault the City with utter impunity.

"If it manipulates the Bore, the fires go out."

"And the City goes dark," Valerie finished the thought, staring back at the thing out there, flying in the night. "Abyss below, they're yours. I'll have anyone not working help stock your ship. Provisions, spare Salamanders, I even have a few reservoirs. I'll give you far more than I can spare. They might hang me for it."

"That'll be a happy problem for after we save them," Gerald insisted, kindly. He saluted, and added, "Burn brightly, Captain."

She returned the salute. "And you, Captain."

She turned away to the two soldiers that followed her earlier, and beckoned for them to follow as she walked. "Sebastian, tell the Lieutenant on watch to help load supplies. Have him find the reservoirs, and bring them here. Elsa, go see if Arland has returned. If he has, tell him to prepare for a march to the next wall."

She stopped, and looked at them both. "We're leaving when the Airship takes off."

Both of them saluted, before dashing off to their assignments. Valerie watched them leave for a moment, her hand resting on the paper that Mitchelson gave her earlier.

She fished it out and grimaced. Spendel's writing was neat and precise, but so bloody small you needed a magnifying glass to read it properly. She stopped near one of the exhaust torches, and held it into the light as well as she could.

The first third of the page was taken up by notes about news from other sections of the Walls. Spendel added his own assessments on the bottom, with a scrawled note saying at least fifteen Golems had been sighted.

No other word of anything like the Rider Amelian encountered, but that might only be because no other platoon had an Airship come to the rescue.

Further down was an order to avoid delaying her own evacuation, as Golems were targeting cable cars. A request for confirmation on her compliment, a reminder that she should not attempt to rescue Trask without reinforcements, and a reminder that since she wasn't to hold her position, she wasn't getting reinforced.

In much larger letters, near the bottom of the page, was an order that caught her eyes and held them.

Missive direct from Lord Captain. As follows: Sgt. Valen Redgrave reinstated to former rank of Secretary. Required to return to Western Wall HQ and assume command. Effective immediately.

She read it three times, surprised more by how comfortable it felt to read those words. She had been an officer for exactly six years, and for all of that time, until Rustov's rise to Lieutenant, the old soldier had been the centrepiece of the training regimen that produced the admittedly superior soldiers she had been working with.

He was the very best of the Army. And having a genuine Secretary to the Lord Captain in command would put some iron in the resolve of the Wall's defenders.

But she glanced back at the fiery thing flying towards them, and cringed as she heard the faint, explosive clap of its wings.

She crumpled the piece of paper up, and threw it off the wall.