Shadows and Stardust: A Tale of Ambition & Quest for Recognition

"Airborne forces are not merely the spearhead, but the very soul of modern warfare." - Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery

Operation Grand Slam (D+5 hours)

The clouds drifted across the yellow and reddish sky as the sun emerged over the horizon. The Mary Somerville hovered low above the gentle waves of Ordos Bay, with occasional splashes reaching its undercarriage.

Stepping onto the bridge, Estelle was clad in a thick bluish-grey wool trench coat, its high collar partially obscuring her face. Her footsteps resonated on the metal floor as she crossed the deck. Even after she stopped, the metallic floor continued to rattle from the vibration of the twin engines of the Mary Somerville. The early morning wind pushed against a window that wasn’t properly bolted down.

Nearby, Whisper stood at the control wheel, ensuring the ship maintained its steady course above the ocean.

“What’s the status of the chameleon circuit?” asked Estelle.

Whisper adjusted the mirror to check the position of the sun before elevating the zeppelin by 50 meters. Leaning over, she carefully scanned the dials to ensure proper navigation.

“100-percent operational efficiency now that we installed Bun-Bun’s parts into the Zep,” Whisper said. “Glad our betters at the Azure Tower finally lifted the embargo.”

"A few hours prior to the expiration of the battle declaration deadline, it’s fortunate that we had made adequate preparations in advance," said Estelle. “What about the condition of the Mary Somerville?”

“I can confirm, I’m in tip-top shape my captain,” a sultry voice said on the intercom.

“Ummm,” Estelle said, as her eye twitched.

“Oh captain, did I startle you? Please forgive me for being a bad girl,” the voice said.

“I was about to warn you, we integrated the rabbit’s voice card into the ship, and for whatever reason the system keeps defaulting to the Sexy Suzy voice pack,” Whisper said, half giggling. “I can change it if you like.”

“Please don’t captain, I beg you. I’m almost fully integrated. It was a long and hard process, but I am almost done,” the ship said.

Estelle’s cheeks turned red, and she made an about-face.

“Change it,” she said before leaving.

Whisper erupted into a fit of giggles as she flipped two switches on the control panel.

***

Operation Grand Slam (D+5.1 hours)

Heather felt a surge of relief as she emerged from the cramped confines of the tiny mole-sized tunnel. However, her excitement was short-lived as she found herself navigating through an underground river, which, while offering more space, was only a modest improvement.

Undeterred, she pressed on, slithering gracefully through the water after shifting into a brown water viper. Periodically, she paused to assess her BC-map when the river branched off.

“I'm behind schedule,” Heather thought, checking the time.

After making a wrong turn and having to backtrack, she learned from her mistake, a costly detour that consumed hours of her time.

Her serpent tongue flicked out to taste the air. The steady and increasing vibration beneath her told her she was moving closer to pumping machinery.

The river led to an aquifer and an underground cavern, where Heather swam until she reached a drainage pipe.

Remembering T.C.'s briefing about the mine, she recalled his explanation: "Mines accumulate water and need to have it pumped out. Usually, they just dump it into the water supply, collection ponds, rivers, or wherever."

Disgusted by the environmental implications, Heather pushed the thoughts away and she slithered up the pipe.

She encountered some slips along the way and decided to try a corkscrew technique to ascend. Despite being more time-consuming, it proved to be a more reliable method.

"If Go-Home-Gold is smart, they will install metal plates preventing access into the main tunnels from up the drainage pipe."

As Heather reached the cave's ceiling, T.C.’s warnings were confirmed as she discovered a metal plate obstructing her path.

"The problem with that method is, if the plate is too tight, it will vibrate itself loose, and you can easily pry it away."

With a cautious nudge from her nose, she tested the plate, finding it so rusted that it crumbled after a few pokes. The reaming bits tumbled into the water below. Heather persisted in her ascent up the pipe, flattening herself against its inner surface and wedging herself tightly within the confines of the pipe's passage.

Halfway up she found a warm spot on the pipe, which caused her to recoil back. Her tongue flicked as she tested the spot. It was warm, but not for natural heat.

Her eyes glowed as she stared at the place with her Witch Sight. Scrawled on the side of the pipe were the words: HELP ME! – Yellow Bird.

She checked the writing; it was surrounded with warm and inviting colors of soft yellows and oranges. Heather inched closer to the writing. A bright flash blinded her.

When her vision cleared, Heather found herself standing in human form surrounded by darkness. She tapped her feet on the floor, she was on a flat concrete slab. Pulling out a black candle and snapping her fingers across the wick.

The light luminated at a limited radius.

“Psychometry trap,” Heather said flicking her reddish-brown hair behind her shoulder. “I should have been more careful.”

From the darkness a flew to her and landed on her shoulder. She touched the bill of the bird.

“Psychometry trap? No, but your friends are walking into a trap…a big one, too,” the bird said.

***