A Dire Situation
"Captain... are you there!?" Milena exclaimed, gripping the wireless transmitter tightly as she called out to Michel.
"Captain!?" she repeated, her voice tinged with urgency.
No response. The eerie silence from the control room only deepened her concern. Moments earlier, a powerful shockwave had rocked the land wagon, throwing everyone inside off balance. Now, she could feel the massive war machine coming to a halt, tilting slightly as if one of its mechanical legs had given out.
The sudden power outage plunged the cargo hold into darkness, broken only by the dim glow of emergency lights flickering to life. The ventilation systems had shut down as well, leaving the air thick and heavy. Beads of sweat formed on Milena's forehead as she steadied herself.
"What now?" Prince Andrea's voice cut through the silence, his tone carrying both concern and frustration.
"We need to secure this cargo. I suggest you find a safe place to take cover, Your Highness," Milena advised.
"Not a chance," Andrea scoffed. "I refuse to stand idly by while we're under attack."
Milena sighed but didn't press the issue. She had already learned that the Prince was as stubborn as he was reckless. Instead, she refocused on the immediate problem.
"If we don't want this cargo falling into enemy hands, we need to do something about it," Andrea continued, scanning the room.
"Do you have an idea in mind, my Prince?" Milena asked.
Andrea's eyes narrowed as he considered their options. "Water. If we flood this cargo hold, we can dilute the Corium and render it useless."
Milena glanced around, but she saw no obvious water sources. "That's a solid plan, but where do we find that much water?"
"Roy!" Andrea called out.
"Yes, my Prince?" Roy responded, stepping forward.
"Do you see any water source nearby?"
Roy thought for a moment before nodding. "Yes, my Prince. There's a maintenance faucet near the entrance of the cargo hold. We can use that!"
Andrea grinned. "Good. Impressive as always, Roy."
----
Meanwhile, in the control room of the land wagon, chaos reigned. Flames licked at the edges of the room where enemy fire had breached the hull. Smoke billowed from damaged consoles, and sparks erupted from overloaded circuits. The air was thick with the scent of burning metal and ozone.Michel groaned as he regained consciousness, his head pounding from where he had struck it during the impact. He touched his forehead and felt a warm trickle of blood.
"Captain! Damage report!" he barked, forcing himself to stand despite his dizziness.
"Sir, we need to evacuate!" a crew member shouted over the commotion. "The engines are down, and we've lost mobility! One of the mechanical legs took a direct hit—we're sitting ducks!"
"Calm down!" Michel snapped, silencing the growing panic. "Order an evacuation for all non-essential personnel! Now!"
"Yes, sir!"
As his crew scrambled to carry out his orders, Michel leaned against a panel, willing himself to stay conscious. "I can't black out now..."
"Sir!" A medic rushed to his side, quickly assessing the wound.
"Took you long enough," Michel muttered as the medic wrapped a bandage around his head.
"It's just a scratch, sir. You'll be fine."
Michel exhaled sharply. "Good. We need to get everyone to safety. Prioritize the wounded. Move!"
----
Aboard the Dumayar command ship, General Voldyck stood at the bridge, watching plumes of smoke rise from the crippled land wagon. His lips curled into a satisfied smirk. The precise strikes had done their job—now, it was time to finish it."Prepare for a full assault," Voldyck ordered.
The bridge crew responded immediately, relaying orders to the assault teams. But before they could proceed, the General turned to his captain.
"I will lead the attack myself. Assume command in my absence."
The captain's eyes widened. "General, that's too risky! Your safety—"
Voldyck's glare silenced him. "This is personal."
The captain swallowed hard and nodded. "Understood, sir."
Flanked by two of his most loyal officers, Voldyck strode toward the hangar, where soldiers were already preparing for the assault. The moment he entered, a hush fell over the troops.
A sergeant stepped forward and saluted. "Sir, with all due respect, this is too dangerous—"
"I can handle myself, Sergeant," Voldyck interrupted.
"Very well, sir..." the sergeant relented.
"Is there an available assault pod?" Voldyck asked.
"This way, sir!" The sergeant led him to one of the larger pods, capable of carrying five soldiers.
Voldyck removed the elaborate decorations from his uniform, handing them to one of his officers. "Inform the men that they will answer only to me. We take that land wagon, or we die trying."
"Yes, sir!" the sergeant saluted.
As the pod doors sealed shut, the soldiers inside exchanged nervous glances. The General himself was leading this mission—an unprecedented event. Voldyck addressed them calmly.
"You don't need to be afraid, gentlemen. The Dumayar Empire will honor our sacrifices here. We fight not just for victory, but for our people. Onward!"
The launch doors opened, and the assault pods were fired toward the land wagon. Voldyck's pod led the charge, shaking violently as it plummeted through flak fire. Explosions filled the sky as several pods were struck mid-air, erupting in balls of flame.
Inside, some soldiers whispered prayers, hoping for a safe landing. Voldyck remained silent, his expression unreadable.
Moments later, the first pod slammed into the land wagon's upper deck. The doors burst open, and Voldyck's team disembarked with weapons raised. Five more pods crashed down behind them, spewing forth Dumayar soldiers who immediately fanned out, engaging the defending forces.
"Not a step backward!" Voldyck roared, rallying his men as the battle for the land wagon began in earnest.