Albatross: Origins of an Empire

Two

THE CLYMORIA DESERT existed as a lethal obstacle between Sylvania's Southern border, and Albatross' far North. It was a desert that was comprised of an infinite sea of compacted salt and punishing weather conditions. This humble place was situated between two of Nievia's most intense mountain ranges and served as neutral terrain due to its unpleasant qualities.

A lone Venom aircraft ruptured out of low-altitude clouds and zipped along the desert floor. This vehicle was smeared with the ornamental gold and teal paint of the Nicoria squadron, bearing serial number IAF-309.

This temporary vessel had been assigned to First Lieutenant Gavanaugh and I. We were its present operators. Behind us followed a billowing rooster-tail of white, salted, dust from the floor one hundred feet beneath our underbelly. The morning gleam of the Nievian sun danced across our exterior armored shell.

Inside the cockpit, I ran the coordinates of the Steel Stead's former known location with the Venom's assistant A.I. titled Abednego.
"Provide results of enquiry 355-90..." I spoke into my oxygen mask.
"Lieutenant Colonel R11-2 Adrian Wells... Results for enquiry 355-90... our radar does not detect an active presence for coordinates LL34.0094772, L40.0026492..."

"Shit... Miles, is there a way the Steel Stead would not be detectable by radar?"
"It sounds like you are being hopeful to me... A. We will know when we arrive to the first investigation point." My flight officer reacted over our in-cockpit two-way com system, "Abednego... provide feedback on interlink with Lieutenant Colonel R11-2 Adrian Wells."
"Interlink remains 87.92 percent successful."

"Beautiful... beautiful... Hang in there. We just need to complete this mission." Miles reassured after examining my present condition. I did undeniably feel restored... my vision resumed its clarity and the pain subsided everywhere but within the base of my skull. After examination (before bridging interlink) it had been determined that I could safely conduct a mission but required vital repairs to the fragile network of my lifeline.

Minutes closed as we neared our first investigation point. I now observed a graphic of our approaching coordinates, a complex HUD (heads up display) was shared within my vision through direct cognitive feed. A perfect view of our exterior atmosphere had been projected on a full wrap-around presentation screen on the interior of the opaque canopy.

Not a trace of the colossal imperial vessel was detectable outside. I brought our 4S within fifty-feet of the desert floor and backed up the throttle. Our speed did not assist my detailed research... I determined it was essential to utilize the Venom's full capabilities.

"First Lieutenant Gavanaugh... prepare for transformation."
"Roger... preparing for phase two transformation into roamer mode."
"Abednego... initiate transformation." I commanded.
"Initiating stage two transformation." The A.I. responded before rearranging the configuration of our surrounding vessel. I closed my eyes for a brief moment of private meditation before my mind would be forced into a storm of over-stimulation.

In a Venom containing dual offices, it was arranged for the pilot to maneuver the vehicle in roamer mode. (Even though both crew members were tied into the mainframe via interlink.) The rear officer existed predominantly for navigation and weapon operation... and in extreme situations would be obliged to assume all responsibilities.

I took an ultimate weighty breath as my complete consciousness extended outward into the shell surrounding us. Abednego's vision transplanted directly into the depths of my awareness... whatever his cameras captured was mine to observe.

Abednego was equivalent to the additional 4S Venoms that were dispensed within the ISAF... which was comprised of the Nicoria, Uchkoi, and Black Heart squadrons. The ISAF was the solitary imperial military branch to possess such advanced technology... we were the guinea pigs (which kept us ahead of the game).

Abednego finalized transformation while lingering in the air. Our engines were now situated within the lower limbs of the vehicle. Their output provided us to remain airborne, along with the assistance of various external ports where excess power had been routed.

I now resumed systematic control of our vessel, though lacking the presence of physical legs, the awareness remained... instinctively. Through operation of a Venom in roamer mode, I
could momentarily experience the ease of natural movement. A smile found itself under my mask, I simply felt impressive.

In a bound I transported Abednego to the desert floor and commenced the primary stage of our meticulous investigation.
The saline earth appeared vacant... even through the aide of the 4S' powerful external instruments. I positioned our Venom into a crouched position and extended its enormous hand into the soil.

"Nothing appears out of the ordinary, A..." Miles observed
while viewing our exterior through the cockpit display screens.
"Abednego... run analysis on second set of coordinates." I groaned while releasing a handful of salted ground. The wind howled about our Venom's exterior frame, sand licked its layered paint. I directed its eyes to the mountain range encompassing the valley and focused on its mystery.
"Lieutenant Colonel R11-2 Adrian Wells... Our radar does not detect an active presence within coordinates LL35.0010420, L42.0113471..."
"Damn it... She is out here somewhere." I huffed upon expelling us back into the air with a kick off the ground and burst from our engines. Dust exploded upward, briefly engulfing our presence.

While sky bound I ran another radar scan of our surroundings when something peculiar captured my immediate attention over the range. An immense object dropped out of the cloud-mass, trailing lines of thickened moisture along its frame. The air around us grew dense.
"Miles... do you see that? What are the coordinates for that approximate location?"
"Good god..." Lieutenant Gavanaugh sighed beneath his
breath upon sensing the unusual presence in the air.
"Adrian, coordinates read... LL40.1130089, L51.0330051. Abednego, analyze..." Miles expressed from his office.
"First Lieutenant Miles Gavanaugh, our radar displays an active presence within the coordinates LL40.1130089, L51.0330051. Active object in question displays approximate width of 541.8m"
"Miles... what was the wing-span of the Steel Stead?" I questioned, directing my flight officer to run another search upon my request.
"541.8m..." Lieutenant Gavanaugh answered, almost sounding surprised, "Impossible... it can't be that easy..."
"We are pursuing an investigation... Might as well check it out?" I concluded briefly.
"Wait A... I don't like the feeling of this... What if it is a trap?"
"Well there is only one way to find out... Abednego, transform back into stage one."
"Roger Lieutenant Colonel R11-2... Commencing transformation to stage one."

As ordered, our airframe morphed into its standard flight-mode. Upon completion I seized the throttle and opened full power. Our afterburners lit a stream of fiery condensed air in our wake, and urged us to make contact with the cloud cover over the highlands. This eruption of power forced my body into the frame of my ejection seat... the speed felt exhilarating and greatly amused my soul.

The mammoth silhouette in the mist began to enlarge as we closed on its presence. Something was undeniably ominous about this mission... as Miles stated, we would not allow our guard to be infiltrated.

The detail of the craft became apparent now... I dropped our speed and closed our distance to two hundred meters. What we had observed was strictly surreal... It was the Steel Stead, or appeared to be. Inhabiting the space to our left was an airship of our period but it appeared to have been aged substantially... conceivably two-hundred years or more?

I was baffled by this encounter. The vessel was oxidized beyond repair from unremitting abuse of Nievia's atmosphere. Its once pear-metallic paint had weathered to a foul chalky green color. The splendid golden adornments now were occupied by layers of salt from years spent over the Clymoria desert. I could scarcely identify the Sylvanian imperial crest on her wings and a-top her hull. All her glass windows were crystalized beyond the ability to allow light to pass. The once-magnificent Steel Stead was no more... nonetheless how did she reach this state? The weathering she expressed could only be natural... Or was it?

I began my secondary pass around the carrier.
"Incredible..." Miles piped as he remained captivated, as I was.
"Prepare landing sequence... try to make contact with a crew to bring us in." I ordered while switching on my external communications.
"What? You don't actually intend on landing on that thing do you?"
"It is our mission to bring the Steel Stead home... and contact the crew... if possible, and that is what we intend on doing..." I continued.

Miles unenthusiastically obeyed the order I had given... though I could sense his intensifying fear of the unknown... Within Abednego's rear office, my petrified flight officer ran codes on different frequencies until he discovered a line to transmit to the menacing vessel. Miles immediately began to contact the bridge.

"IAF 000-1 Steel Stead, this is imperial craft serial number 940-02... we request immediate boarding and landing privileges." Piercing static occupied the radio... accompanied by complete silence, a mild screech echoed amongst the emptiness.
"IAF 000-1 Steel Stead, this is imperial craft serial number 940-02... requesting a landing crew. Do you read?"

Unremitting silence lingered... An alarm resonated within the cockpit, Abednego unexpectedly forewarned me of potentially hazardous outside conditions as we drew closer to the airship.

"Lieutenant Colonel R11-2, hazardous levels of radiation presently emit from the vessel's F-deck...."
"Shit... that could mean a flaw in the cooling system, or neglect ... how long can the system operate without a crew?" I questioned Miles.
"Hard to say... I cannot imagine it would be built to function under such circumstances... due to the reactors requiring consistent surveillance."
"Well... we will know soon enough... Did you receive a response?"
"No... it remains completely silent." The Lieutenant answered.

I frowned beneath my pliable O2 mask and ended our final pass before repositioning to commence our landing sequence. The platform onward of us appeared irregular, with absent panels of decking. I deployed our flaps and backed the throttle to half its previous speed. This forced our craft into a near hover state over the platform.

Rust and salted debris billowed off the exterior of the landing deck below us. I focused onward, and studied the hangar-door... it was permanently sealed due to consistent weathering. I knew we would be forced to improvise in order to break its seal.
"Abednego... transform into stage two... Ready cannon one."
"What? Do you plan on breaking in? What if there is still a crew?"
"There isn't a crew onboard... What must be done, will be done." I muttered in response to my flight officer's distress, before our craft morphed into its intricate humanoid state. I immediately sat us down on the deck upon finalization of Abednego's transformation.

Through Abednego's flawless cameras I observed the hangar
door and elevated the roamer's right forearm... with the cannon withdrawn on its surface. Promptly I targeted the oxidized seams and unleashed ruthless gunfire until the metal heaved from its lynching.

Smoke was drawn upward from the intense bluster... minor flames summoned us to approach and take up occupancy inside. I commanded my colossal, external frame forward and marched to the opening that had been forcefully created. Inside the hangar was gloomy and vacant of all but a particular Venom... Ada. I instantly recognized the serial number that remained present on her airframe. She sat silent accompanied by a boarding ladder with her canopy gaping. I knew at that instant I had to make interlink... if anyone could explain this anomaly it would be her.

"Abednego, cease interlink to offices one and two... remain on standby."
"What about the radiation A?" Miles enquired as I unbolted my oxygen mask and removed my helmet. I then progressed to unfasten the harness locking me in place after detaching my interlink gauntlet.
"Our flight suits block out radiation. We will limit our investigation to one hour... to be safe." I confirmed, "Abednego, elevate cockpit canopy..."

The exhibition screens surrounding Miles and I went black as our shield elevated exposing us to the contaminated... bitter air. I positioned myself into a stand after securing my crutches... wind howled deafeningly inside my ears. In the second office Miles disconnected his interlink and joined me standing after collecting a set of navigation gear. Before departing my post, I seized my small supply bag, which predominantly contained my medicine vials
and syringes. Only this time, it felt unusually light?

I slipped one crutch under my elbow, and secured my posture in order to investigate. Upon unzipping the package, I immediately knew that the interior lingered unfilled. Shit... somehow during the evening's escapades my vials had been misplaced? This would be a first... during the entire of my existence I would receive a round of injections on a nightly basis... without interruption or explanation of their purpose. I did not have knowledge of what would occur if I did not receive them, however we presently had larger issues at hand. Besides... we would only be on board for an hour, and the day was presently unspent.

I secured my possessions, and attached my crutches to the belt above my flight chaps. The only way down from Abednego's cockpit was without a ladder... we would be required to jump considering our craft remained in roamer mode. I hesitated for a moment before leaping from my post. My boots made instant contact with the floor beneath me, sending dust outward. I disconnected my crutches from my belt and erected my posture. Miles made his descent behind me and illuminated a hand-held light.

I did not wait-up for him... instead I progressed onward to Ada. She sat silent, and clearly was not fully docked as if she had been forcefully ejected from a mission. I rested my forearm crutches beside her boarding ladder and proceeded to climb into her inviting interior.

There were visible signs of struggle within my immediate view. The flight harness had been severed at numerous points... it was apparent who previously piloted her suffered dearly. I hoisted my frame into the seat and examined her grimy controls for the auxiliary power switch. Below, Miles removed a small tablet computer from his equipment and powered it on.

"Alright Adrian... Our current exposure rate is 410 millisieverts per hour. Our investigation starts now... we cannot stay in one location for too long. So wrap it up soon with Ada..." The Lieutenant droned as he studied a radiation activity chart.

I managed to discover Ada's auxiliary power switch and attempt to revive the Venom... her screens scarcely illuminated from under the coating of dust. It was clear that her on-board power source had run dry considering she was never reattached to the ship.

"Damn-it Ada..." I protested and rubbed my face before abandoning her, "We need to run power to her computer system..." I educated Miles as I repossessed my crutches, "I assume Ada had been involved in whatever happened here... Pull up a map to the F-deck reactors. We will split up..." I snatched a head-set from Miles and situated it atop my gilded blonde hair, "Go there... repower the ship if you can... Meet me at the bridge... you will remain in direct contact with me, if there is anything considerably unusual...report it." I concluded as I advanced across the hangar floor and approached the primary access door leading to the rest of deck G.

With a steady blow delivered by my right boot, I sent the door banging open. Miles reluctantly hurried behind illuminating the path ahead of us. The corridor we entered seemed gloomier than the hangar... thick webbing intertwined the scaffolding on the ceiling. The air was heavy, but lacked the lingering stench of death. I kept ahead of my flight officer, confident in my stride.

"Hey Adrian! Are you sure of where you are going?" Miles belted as he arrived in the corridor to my rear, "Damn... it is strange to think we were just discharged from this ship last night?"
"Yeah. Update me when you arrive at the reactor chamber." I dully replied, remaining well engaged within my vivid imagination.