Cutting through the Clouds (Finale)

[Axel Steinsaltz]

47th of Ash, 124

The storm roared like a wounded beast, its winds howling and rain battering Axel’s PX1-567. The cockpit rattled with every shift in turbulence, and streaks of lightning illuminated the chaos outside. Axel adjusted his grip on the control stick, his heart pounding as he scanned the storm for Razhek’s Daggerhawk.

A flicker of movement, there. Razhek’s Daggerhawk emerged briefly from the swirling gray, its dark insignia unmistakable even in the tempest’s gloom. Axel pushed the throttle forward, the PX1-567 surging with a low hum of dragonshard power. His targeting reticle glowed, locking onto Razhek’s tail. “Gotcha,” Axel muttered under his breath.

Razhek twisted his Daggerhawk sharply to the left, pulling into an evasive roll. Axel followed, the PX1-567’s adaptive wings responding fluidly to his commands. The prototype cut through the storm with precision, its reinforced airframe holding steady against the punishing winds. Axel fired a burst from his dual-linked autocannons. Tracers streaked through the rain, but Razhek was ready. The pirate rolled again, narrowly evading the deadly barrage.

“Damn it,” Axel cursed, yanking the stick to stay on Razhek’s tail. “Slippery bastard!”

Razhek dove suddenly, vanishing into the clouds below. Axel followed without hesitation, the PX1-567’s enhanced stabilizers keeping him level despite the turbulence. The targeting array blinked erratically as the storm’s interference grew worse.
“Stay with me, girl,” Axel muttered, patting the console.

The two fighters emerged into a break in the clouds, the storm momentarily thinning to reveal the jagged mountain peaks below. Razhek’s Daggerhawk twisted sharply, its engines screaming as it climbed toward the next bank of storm clouds.

Axel pulled the PX1-567 into a steep ascent, matching Razhek’s climb. His vision tunneled on the pirate fighter, the world around him reduced to the glowing reticle and the faint silhouette of his target.

Razhek suddenly cut his speed, the Daggerhawk dropping into a sharp loop. Axel’s instincts screamed at him to veer off, but he held his ground, forcing the PX1-567 into a tight turn. The prototype’s advanced maneuvering thrusters kicked in, the aircraft twisting with unnatural agility.

The two fighters passed within meters of each other, the sound of their engines roaring like thunder. Axel’s heart pounded as he caught a glimpse of Razhek’s cockpit. Razhek’s eyes locked with his for a fleeting second, a smirk on his lips.

A burst of fire streak past Axel’s wing, and he realized too late that Razhek wasn’t alone. Another Daggerhawk had joined the fray, its guns blazing as it swooped in from above.

Axel jerked the PX1-567 into a barrel roll, narrowly avoiding the incoming fire. “Great,” Axel muttered, pulling into a sharp climb.
The second pirate gave chase, its cannons hammering relentlessly. Axel zigzagged through the storm, using the PX1-567’s superior speed and agility to stay ahead of his pursuer.

He looped back around, firing a quick burst from his autocannons. The rounds struck the pirate’s wing, sending it spiraling out of control. The fighter disappeared into the storm, leaving Axel free to focus on Razhek once more.

Razhek had taken advantage of the distraction, putting distance between himself and Axel. Razhek’s Daggerhawk was heading straight for a massive thunderhead, its engines trailing smoke.

“Oh no you don’t,” Axel growled, pushing the PX1-567 to its limits.

The prototype surged forward, the dragonshard engine roaring as Axel closed the gap. He fired another burst, the tracers tearing into Razhek’s left wing. The Daggerhawk shuddered, its flight path growing erratic. Axel lined up for the finishing blow, his finger hovering over the trigger. But before he could fire, the storm surged around them, a massive gust of wind throwing his aim off. Razhek dove into the heart of the thunderhead, vanishing into the swirling darkness.

Axel cursed under his breath, scanning the storm for any sign of the Razhek. The relay crackled to life, Claudia’s voice cutting through the static.

“Axel, the 212th and 90th squadrons have arrived. Pirates are scattering. What’s your status?”

Axel exhaled slowly, his heart still racing. “Razhek’s damaged but not down. He’s heading deeper into the storm.”
“Leave him. The reinforcements will mop up the rest. Regroup with the squadron.”

Axel hesitated, his eyes narrowing as he stared into the storm. Every instinct told him to chase Razhek, to finish what he started. But the battle wasn’t his alone anymore.

“Understood,” he said finally, banking the PX1-567 toward the squadron’s position.

Below, the storm was alive with the chaos of battle. The 175th, now bolstered by the 212th and 90th squadrons, had turned the tide against the remaining Zythura pirates.

Claudia led the charge, her PX1 carving through the enemy ranks with ruthless precision. The combined squadrons moved as one, their formation tight and their firepower overwhelming.

The pirates broke apart, their cohesion shattered. One by one, the enemy fighters peeled away, retreating into the storm.
“175th, hold the line!” Claudia’s voice rang out. “Don’t let them regroup!”

Axel joined the fray, his autocannons blazing as he cut down a fleeing pirate fighter. The PX1-567 handled beautifully. Amid the retreating pirates, Razhek’s Daggerhawk reappeared, its engines sputtering and smoke trailing thickly behind. The pirate leader was limping away, his craft barely holding together. Axel’s targeting array locked onto the damaged fighter, his finger itching to fire. But before he could pull the trigger, a massive gust of wind slammed into the PX1-567, forcing him to correct his trajectory. By the time he recovered, Razhek had disappeared into the storm once more.

“Dammit!” Axel’s fists clenched on the control stick, frustration bubbling in his chest.

The relay in Axel's helmet crackled, a familiar voice breaking through the static. "Steinsaltz! What’s the situation?" It was Lieutenant Colonel Markus Velbrandt of the 212th, a pilot Axel knew well from the siege of Vlaikgas years ago.

"That bastard. Razhek. He’s still out there" Axel replied, scanning the storm’s edge.

“Razhek?” came the reply. “That same Razhek?” Velbrandt voice quivered.

“Yeah......” Axel’s voice trailed off as he continued scanning the storm’s edge.

“How do you-“

“I saw that bastard’s face alright!” Axel snapped. “The one and only who could use the storm as the perfect cover.”

“Shit” Velbrandt’s voice rang out in the relay, “He should be long gone by now. What’s left of he 88th had retreated back to Die Himmelstadt. The mission is over.”

“But he’s still out there!” Axel shouted

"And you’re making the same mistake like last time!" Velbrandt snapped. “Do you want to risk the lives of every pilot out here chasing that bastard in this storm?"

Axel clenched his jaw, glancing at the wings of the 175th forming up below him. Their numbers were thinner now. The 212th and 90th had their own formations, weaving through the storm with precision.

"Listen to me, Axel." Velbrandt said, his voice tight. “I was there too. You’re not the only one that lost friends back there. But chasing that bastard in this storm is just suicide.”

Axel slammed his fist on his flight panel, “Dammit Markus. We’ll not get another chance like this! That bastard’s aircraft was damaged already. We let him slipped away at looked at what happened at Vlaikgas!” his voice tight with anger.

Before Velbrandt could reply, the relay crackled again, this time with a new voice, steady, commanding, and unmistakable. "Attention all squadrons. This is Commander Garrick aboard Die Himmelstadt. All units are to disengage and return to base immediately. Repeat, disengage and return to base. The storm is intensifying beyond safe operational limits." There was a mere pause, “That goes for the two of you Steinsaltz and Velbrandt.”
Axel stared into the storm, his grip tightening on the control stick. His mind raced with defiance. They had Razhek on the run and this was their chance to end it.

"Steinsaltz, you heard the order," Velbrandt said, his voice softer now but no less firm. "I get it. You want payback. So, do I. But we’re not risking every pilot in this damn storm for one piece of shit."

"Fuck, fine." Axel said finally, his voice heavy with reluctance. "All squadrons, form up and prepare for withdrawal. The 175th will take rear guard."
There was a pause on the relay before Velbrandt replied, "Copy that. The 212th will hold position until everyone’s regrouped. Let’s bring them home this time, Steinsaltz."

Axel exhaled sharply, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He switched to the 175th’s channel. "175th, regroup and form up. We’re pulling back to Die Himmelstadt. Keep an eye out for stragglers, and don’t let your guard down. Anything that doesn’t bear the insignia of the Imperium, shoot it down."
"Understood, sir," Claudia replied, her tone clipped but steady.

The squadrons began to reform, their scattered elements converging into a single, powerful formation. The 90th took point, their sleek fighters slicing through the rain with ease. The 212th followed, with the battered but determined 175th taking up the rear.

As the squadrons moved into formation, Axel lingered at the edge of the storm. His eyes scanned the clouds one last time, his heart pounding with the urge to chase Razhek into the tempest.

"Axel," Claudia’s voice cut through the relay. "We’re moving. Don’t do something stupid." Axel didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the swirling storm. Lightning arced across the sky, illuminating the jagged peaks below. Somewhere out there, Razhek was retreating, his airship damaged but not destroyed. Finally, he sighed and pulled the PX1-567 into formation with the rest of the 175th.

Commander Garrick was waiting for him near the edge of the deck, his arms crossed over his chest. The older man’s expression was unreadable, but his piercing gaze cut through Axel’s defenses.

“You made the right call, Steinsaltz” Garrick said simply, his voice steady. “Even if it doesn’t feel like it now.”

Axel nodded, though his jaw remained tight. “He’ll be back,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “Razhek doesn’t know when to quit.”

Garrick’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then let him come. We’ll welcome them with the full might of Die Himmelstadt.”

Axel’s eyes drifted toward the horizon, where the storm raged on unabated. Somewhere out there, Razhek was nursing his wounds, plotting his next move. Axel’s fists clenched at his sides. Garrick patted him on the shoulder, “Faulker was also my friend,”

Axel’s eyes drifted toward the floor as he nodded silently. Garrick’s annoyed groaned could be heard as he walked back, “Two annoying visitors in one day.....” his voice trailed off.

[Axel Steinsaltz]

The officer’s deck aboard Die Himmelstadt was a sanctuary of calm amid the chaos. From here, Axel could see the sprawling hangar below, illuminated by cold, fluorescent dragonshard lights. The spare PX1-567 sat quietly in its cradle. It seemed almost out of place, like a predator among sheep. Axel leaned back in his chair, the rain hammering against the reinforced glass of the observation windows, and sipped from the lukewarm coffee in his mug. His thoughts churned, an uneasy mix of lingering adrenaline and gnawing regret. Axel’s fingers tapped rhythmically on the armrest of his chair, his gaze fixed on the prototype. He hadn’t even noticed the door to the officer’s deck slide open until a familiar voice broke through the hum of the storm outside.

“Well, well. Look who’s brooding up here like a tragic hero in a bad play.”

Axel turned to see Dino. “Dino,” Axel greeted, his tone softening. “Didn’t expect to see you up here.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not every day I get to visit an airborne fortress,” Dino said, dropping into the chair opposite Axel with a grunt. He looked down at Axel’s mug and wrinkled his nose. “Coffee’s probably as shitty as I remembered.”

Axel chuckled faintly. “Still the same shit. Some things never change.”

Dino followed Axel’s gaze to the PX1-567 in the hangar. “Thinking about taking her out for another spin? You’ve got that look on your face....”

“No,” Axel said, though his tone wasn’t convincing even to himself. “Just… thinking.”

“About Razhek?” Dino asked, his voice losing its humor. The lightness in the room seemed to dim as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

“Velbrandt and Claudia told me. Smoke trailing off his plane, but he still got away.”

Axel nodded. “It’s not just Razhek. It’s what he’s flying. Those designs… they’re too good. Better than anything I’ve seen from those Zyths before.”

Dino frowned, his brow furrowing. “You think someone’s helping them? Someone who knows their stuff?”

“More than that,” Axel said, his voice tightening. “I think they’ve got someone who’s as good as, maybe even better than that geezer Neumark.”

As if summoned by the mention of his name, Dr. Neumark appeared in the doorway. Clad in his signature long coat, its pockets bulging with tools, papers, and bits of machinery. A lit cigarette dangled from his lips, the faint curl of smoke rising to the ceiling. Without a word, he walked over to the observation windows and leaned against the frame, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he studied the PX1-567 below.

“You always know how to make an entrance, Doc,” Dino said, half-joking, though his tone carried a note of respect.

Dr. Neumark didn’t respond immediately. He flicked the ash from his cigarette into a tray on a nearby console and finally spoke, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re both too loud. Makes it hard to think.”

Axel shot Dino a look but let the comment slide. “Doc, there’s something we need to talk about.” Dino excused himself, knowing that it would be better for him to not know anything about Axel and Dr. Neumark’s conversation.

“There’s something about the Daggerhawk that Razhek used.” Axel started.

Neumark exhaled a long line of smoke and turned to face Axel, his eyes narrowing. “Go on.”

Axel stepped closer to the window, his jaw tight as he searched for the right words. “It’s fast, Doc. Too fast. Even with the PX1-567, I couldn’t reliably outpace it. I could edge ahead sometimes, but it was close......too close. And I wasn’t flying conservatively.”

Neumark’s brow furrowed, and he stubbed out his cigarette in a small tray on the console. “You’re telling me that thing kept up with the 567? The same 567 we outfitted with enhanced mana-core propulsion and streamlined aerodynamics?” His voice was tinged with disbelief, but there was a hint of something else, concern.

Axel nodded, his expression grim. “Not just kept up. Its acceleration in tight maneuvers was almost as good as mine. And that’s with me flying a prototype meant to be leagues ahead of anything in the air.”

Neumark let out a low whistle, rubbing his chin as he paced the length of the observation deck. “Interesting. Troubling, but interesting. The pirates have always been good at cobbling things together, but this? This sounds like precision engineering. No way they’re building that level of quality on their own.”

“That’s what worries me,” Axel said, “It wasn’t just the speed, either. Its responsiveness. How quickly it adjusted to my moves, it felt like I was up against something… alive.”

Neumark stopped pacing, his gaze snapping back to Axel. “Alive? You mean like a sentient core, a golem?”

“Maybe not that sentient,” Axel clarified, though the unease in his voice remained. “But it felt intuitive. Like it was anticipating me. It’s hard to explain, but it was more than just good engineering. There’s something else at play here.”

Neumark folded his arms, his expression darkening as his mind raced through possibilities. “If they’ve got someone developing tech that advanced, we’re dealing with a whole new breed of enemy.”

Axel leaned against the window frame, the tension in his body mirrored in his voice. “I don’t understand how they’ve managed it. Even if they had a skilled engineer, the resources alone should limit them. Mana-cores, precision alloys, enchanted components, these aren’t things you can just scavenge.”

Neumark snorted, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’d be surprised what desperation and ingenuity can accomplish, Steinsaltz. Still, you’re right. Building something that advanced isn’t just about having a clever mind. It’s about having the infrastructure to support it. Which means…” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing.

“They’ve got backing,” Axel finished for him. “Real backing. Maybe a faction we don’t know about. Or worse, a defector from within.”

Neumark ran a hand through his wild hair, his fingers tugging at the strands in frustration. “Damn it,” he muttered. “If they’ve got a defector, someone with the kind of expertise we’re talking about, that means they’ve had time to refine their designs. Time to experiment. And if they’re testing in the field with pilots like Razhek…” He didn’t finish the thought, but Axel didn’t need him to. The pieces were falling into place, and the picture they formed was grim.

Axel turned back to the PX1-567. “The 567’s fucking great, Doc. Better than anything else we’ve got. But against that Daggerhawk? It wasn’t enough. Not if there’s going to be more of them.”

Neumark’s eyes gleamed with something between determination and madness. “Oh, it’ll be enough,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “It’ll be more than enough. But it’s going to take work.”

Axel raised an eyebrow. “What kind of work?”

“The kind that doesn’t come easy,” Neumark replied, already pulling a small notebook from his coat pocket. The pages were filled with sketches, equations, and notes scrawled in a chaotic hand. “If their planes are using a mana-core design, we need to push ours further. I’ve been toying with the idea of dual-core synchronization, but it’s risky. Could overload the entire system if not handled perfectly.”

Axel frowned. “Risky how?”

Neumark smirked, though there was little humor in it. “Risky as in it might turn the plane into a fireball if the synchronization fails. But if it works…” He gestured broadly with his hands, as if envisioning the possibilities. “You’d have speed and power that makes the Daggerhawk look like a child’s kite.”

“That’s a big if, Doc,” Axel said, his voice wary. “And even if you pull it off, it won’t mean much if they’re already mass-producing those planes.”

Neumark paused, his expression sobering. “You’re not wrong. Which means we need to figure out how they’re doing it. Fast.”

Axel crossed his arms, his mind racing. “If Razhek’s involved, he’ll lead us to their base sooner or later. He’s too bold to stay in hiding for long. But we can’t afford to wait for him to make the next move.”

Neumark nodded, tapping his pen against the notebook. “Agreed. Which is why you need get some rest. Let me worry about the engineering. I’ll comb through the flight data from today’s sortie and see what I can tweak in the short term. The long-term upgrades will take time, but I can at least give you a fighting edge.”

Axel hesitated, then nodded. “Fine. But I want updates, geezer.”

“You’ll be the first to hear,” Neumark promised, though his eyes were already back on the PX1-567. The glint of obsession was unmistakable, and Axel couldn’t help but feel a pang of unease. Neumark was brilliant, no doubt about it. But brilliance had its price, and Axel had seen firsthand how far the doctor was willing to go in pursuit of his ideas.

As Neumark returned to his frantic scribbling, Axel found himself gazing out at the storm once more. The rain lashed against the glass, the world beyond a blur of darkness and light. The Daggerhawk’s silhouette haunted his mind, its sleek frame and uncanny speed a reminder of the challenges ahead.

“We’ll figure it out,” Neumark said suddenly, as if sensing Axel’s unease. His voice was softer now, almost gentle. “We always do. Besides, I’m also curious of how a genius are they. Find me one of the wreckages if you could.”

“Got it Doc. I’ll send engineers along with Dino to look down below.” Axel said, he took a long drag.

[Axel Steinsaltz]

Axel was still lost in thought when the sound of measured footsteps echoed from the corridor outside. He turned just as the doors to the lounge opened, and in walked a young woman dressed in an elegant but practical military-style outfit. Her presence was commanding, despite her slight frame, and her golden hair was tied back in a simple braid that spoke of both discipline and confidence. Her bearing alone would have drawn attention, but the emblem on her chest, a seal of Imperial authority, left no doubt as to her identity. The 16th Imperial Princess.

Axel straighten up reflexively, his years of service in the Imperium making such actions second nature. “Your Highness,” he greeted, keeping his tone neutral but respectful.

The princess waved a hand dismissively, a faint smile playing on her lips. “At ease, Lieutenant Colonel Steinsaltz. Or should I say… Captain of the White Stallion Shipping Company?”

Axel’s brow furrowed slightly, though he hid his surprise well. “You’re well-informed, Your Highness.”

She stepped further into the room, her gaze briefly sweeping the space before settling on him. “I make it my business to be. Especially when it involves someone who seems to have a knack for being at the center of interesting events.”

Axel said nothing, waiting to see where this was going.

The princess took a seat across from him, crossing her legs with an air of casual authority. “The White Stallion is an intriguing venture,” she began. “Efficient, reliable, and now officially recognized by the Emperor himself. An impressive achievement for a fledgling company.”

Axel inclined his head slightly. “We aim to serve the Imperium as best we can.”

“Indeed,” she replied, her tone thoughtful. “And yet, I can’t help but wonder if your ambitions end there. A man of your talents, with your history… Surely, you see the potential for more.”

Her words hung in the air, and Axel met her gaze evenly. “Forgive me, Your Highness, but I’m not sure I follow.”

The princess leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Let me be blunt, Captain. The Imperium is in a precarious position. Threats like Razhek and his ilk are growing bolder, and the tools at our disposal are not what they once were. The 175th Squadron and innovators like Dr. Neumark are invaluable, but they need more than just resources, they need champions. People who can navigate both the battlefield and the halls of power.”

Axel’s expression didn’t waver, but inwardly, he was bracing himself. “And you believe I’m one of those people?”

The princess smiled faintly, though there was steel behind it. “I do. Which is why I’m offering to be your backer. With my support, the White Stallion could become more than a courier company. It could be the Imperium’s lifeline. A bridge between innovation and action.”

Axel leaned back slightly, his arms resting on the chair’s armrests. “That’s a generous offer, Your Highness. But I’ve found that generosity often comes with strings attached.”

Her smile widened, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Astute. Yes, I would expect your support in return. My position among my siblings is… precarious. Being the youngest means I’m often overlooked, but I have no intention of remaining in the shadows. An alliance with someone of your reputation could prove mutually beneficial.”

Axel considered her words carefully. The offer was tempting in its own way, but he wasn’t one to leap into political entanglements lightly. “I appreciate your confidence in me, Your Highness, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. The White Stallion’s focus is on its duties, not politics.”

The princess studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “A diplomatic refusal. I expected as much. However, you may want to reconsider.”

Axel arched an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

She leaned forward again, her tone sharpening. “Because I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Dr. Neumark.”

Axel’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“You spoke of the Daggerhawk,” she said, her voice soft but laced with intent. “Of its speed, its precision. Of how it seemed almost… alive.”

Axel felt a prickle of unease but kept his composure. “You’re well-informed, indeed.”

The princess nodded, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. “Razhek’s forces have been a thorn in the Imperium’s side for years, but this is different. The Daggerhawk is a game-changer, and I suspect you know that as well as anyone.”

Her words were measured, deliberate, and they carried the weight of something more. Axel met her gaze, his tone cautious. “If you have something to say, Your Highness, I suggest you say it.”

She smiled again, though this time it was colder. “I have intel, Lieutenant. Information about Razhek, his operations, and the minds behind the Daggerhawk. Information that could give you an edge in whatever comes next.”

Axel felt his pulse quicken, though he forced himself to remain calm. “And what do you want in return?”

The princess’s smile widened, her confidence radiating. “Just your support, Lieutenant. Nothing more, nothing less.”

The room fell silent, the storm outside a muted roar as Axel weighed her words. The princess sat back, her expression serene, as if she already knew what his answer would be.

But Axel remained silent, his mind racing. Whatever game the 16th Imperial Princess was playing, it was one he couldn’t afford to take lightly. And as much as he wanted to refuse outright, the promise of information. Real, actionable intelligence about Razhek was impossible to ignore.