12 Miles Below

So.

To recap, I am now taking an interesting unexpected tour through the lower strata. And, admittedly, from what I could see in between the cockpit glass planes and general screaming, it was rather pretty compared to silver flowers and large waving hills.

I’d spend more time explaining exactly the kind of chaos I got a view at, after I got a few questions answered from my tour guide. But the whole, Why-are-we-falling-down-in-a-giant-airspeeder and what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you was a little awkward to ask directly.

“Golden tits, the rich bastard’s got a third knife.” Cathida called out, “He’s going to use it anyt- yep, there it is.”

“Less talking, more hacking.” I muttered back, watching said knife fly right for my helmet. I ducked by twisting my body in a ball and kicking up at the cockpit roof.

The ceiling was closer to me than the floor right now. And for good reason: Turns out, free-falling down meant getting shoved up against the roof as the giant airspeeder changed directions but its two unstrapped passengers inside didn’t.

Drakonis slashed again, in what I could only call the most sloppy attempt to deal damage I’d ever seen, almost as if he was asking to get stabbed and killed. I’d get to that part eventually, but I did need him alive until I got some more info on where the hell he’d brought me and why he thought this would work.

I landed a boot directly into his exposed chest and shoved him right back down against the pilot seat floor, using my free hand to hold tight against a console and pin him down.

We both stopped for a half second, helmets locking gazes with each other. In that single glance, both of us instantly got what was actually going on.