Kensai cursed, engaged the public address system again. “All forces, full attack!”
With a shriek of iron and pistons, the shreddermen charged—a scuttling, thumping horde of towering bipedal engines, saw-toothed arms raised. Bushimen stalked behind, crossbows and naginata spears in hand. The sky-fleet spat plumes of exhaust, gunning forward with hollow roars. And with the casual arrogance of a butcher on the way to the slaughterhouse, Commander Rei kicked his stirrups, urging the Earthcrusher into action.
The controls spat a dull clunking cough. The engines revved, great clouds of black smoke spewing from its chimneys. But for all the sound and fury, Earthcrusher didn’t move an inch.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Kin was thankful for the brass skin covering his face—he didn’t have to hide his grin.
“What in First Bloom’s name is happening?” Rei hissed.
*
Misaki stood aboard the sky-ship Truth Seeker, looking out over the Tōnan mountains. The Guild rebels aboard the vessel were gathered topside, all clad in gleaming new skins courtesy of a salvage raid into Chapterhouse Yama. Fresh paint gleamed down the ship’s flanks, a cluster of scarlet flags at her aft signifying allegiance to Chapterhouse Kigen.
The spider limbs at Misaki’s back twitched as she waited for the inevitable challenge from the First House patrols. She thought of Suki, her baby daughter, back in whatever safety the Kitsune fortress could provide. She found herself wishing she had gods to pray to.
A message chattered across the secure frequencies.
First House control tower seven to unidentified sky-ship. This is restricted airspace. Transmit ident code and security clearance package now.
Misaki’s fingers danced upon her mechabacus, deft and graceful; the fingers of a musician who had never learned to actually play.
Truth Seeker—5676-1814-4852-7951. Package transmitting.
Acknowledged, Truth Seeker. Processing …
Misaki sucked the inside of her lip, cast wary glances at her fellows.
“Be ready to turn and redline it,” she whispered.
Package confirmed. Truth Seeker, you are logged as having departed for Earthcrusher yesterday morning. Why have you returned to First House?
Starboard engine malfunction. We reported yesterday evening. Did you not receive?
I show no record of said report, Truth Seeker.
We were ordered to return to First House. Should I notify my Kyodai?
A pause, laden with the drone of engines, the smog-thick reek of chi.
Negative, Truth Seeker. Dock at sky-spire four. You will be met by First House security forces, acknowledge.
Acknowledged, First House.
The lotus must bloom.
The lotus must bloom.
Misaki cut the connection, grinning like a madwoman. The subterfuge had held—First House was allowing them to land. So far, Kitsune seemed to be looking after his own.
The Truth Seeker flew on through the mountains, her captain ordering the starboard engine shut down. The propeller sputtered and died, spitting a brief smear of exhaust into the building snowstorm. Black slurry was accruing on the deck, Misaki shivering despite the poreless skin coating her body. Her eyes were on the clouds, noting the shadows of lurking ironclads, the three-man corvettes flitting amongst snow-clad mountaintops.
Finally, she spied it in the distance, atop an immense granite spur, wreathed in smoke. A pentagonal fortress of filthy yellow stone, rooted by mighty buttresses to sheer black cliffs. The pipelines converged here, winding up the mountainside and vomiting into First House’s belly. A service road spiraled up from the valley, dotted with guard towers, ending at a goods elevator one hundred feet below the summit. Misaki thanked the heavens for their stolen sky-ship—there was no way in hells anyone was making it into First House without wings.
As the Truth Seeker cleared the outer wall, Misaki and five other rebels gathered at the railing. At a signal from the helmsman, cloudwalkers in the Seeker’s gut spilled smoke bombs into the exhaust filters, and an enormous plume of choking tar spewed from the starboard engine. The Seeker spun on its axis, smearing black across the skies.
Misaki waited until they’d drifted over the First House fuel dumps. With her brethren behind her, she leaped over the railing and dropped onto the tanks. The Seeker drifted over the First House complex, spewing smoke cover, an iron claxon singing duet with a shrill siren. With slightly overdramatic effort, the crew forced her down onto landing pad four. Ground crews were waiting, fire gear ready, shrouded in black fumes from the “faulty” engine.
Hunkering down by an access hatch, Misaki tuned in to the First House security feeds with her mechabacus, listening for an alert. She noted chatter about a priority prisoner being escorted to the Chamber of Void. But hearing nothing about intruders on the chi silos, she nodded to her brethren, and they set to work breaking open the hatch.
Misaki nodded to herself, trying to calm the storm in her stomach.
So far, so good.