Chapter one

The big, grey airship drifted through the clouds aimlessly, unaware of the smaller airship following below it. These days, airships were like flying cities, ever since the oceans rose, drowning most of the land mass. Planes were a rare sight in the skies as they consumed too much fuel, though they were still used if you wanted to travel fast.

Airships were big enough to carry large numbers of people and supplies, but hardly ever needed to refuel. However, they were easy targets for the Sky Pirates.

The pirates targeted the slow-moving airships because they had bountiful stores but were poorly armed. The pirates would creep (as much airships can) quietly behind the target, staying low, hiding in the clouds, until they struck. Then they would quickly rise up out of the clouds, up above the target, and the pirates would fly down on gliders to capture or ransack the airship.

Our airship didn’t get attacked like that though, but why would we. We are the pirates! Our airship, smaller than most, bore the black detailing of pirates. We weren’t without our problems though.

Once the Governments (of the Countries not completely submerged) had admitted to our existence, they offered handsome rewards for anyone who could bring in a band of pirates. Those who took up the challenge became known as the Hunters.

Sorry, let me introduce myself. My name is Isaac. I think I turned fifteen last month, but it’s hard to keep track of time up here in the clouds. Besides, most pirates are only concerned about the here and now. And gold, lot’s of gold.

This is my adventure and this is how started.

I was sitting in my hammock, slowly swinging back and forth, relaxing, when Kite came into my room without invitation, as usual.

“C’mon, Isaac. The captain is almost ready for the attack, we have to get ready,” Kite said as if I needed reminding.

Kite and I had been friends for as long as I can remember. She was only a little older than me but she was the Glider our ship had. We were both orphans since both our parents drowned when the seas rose, but now we thought of the ship’s crew as our family.

“Alright, let me just the Windwhistler and I’ll catch up,” I replied as I fell out of the hammock.

The Windwhistler was, in fact, a whistle. Nothing special, just a small silver whistle with a dragon’s head carved over one end. It was my job to play it when the Gliders attacked the target ship. it may be small but it sounded a pure, clear note that could be heard anywhere up to a league away. I would play the Windwhistler as a way to direct the Gliders. I would stand atop the airship, a dark silhouette against the sky. Sometimes, when the clouds were thinner than usual, I would see enormous shadows in the clouds when I played, but that was probably just my imagination.

After several minutes of searching, I found the Windwhistler hidden I an old shoe. I pocketed it and walked out of the room and down the corridor. I passed the Glider’s preparation room, where Kite and the other Gliders were putting on their parachutes and etcetera. We had the best glider-wings and jet-packs in the profession, after a daring raid on an Army Transport Ship. I saw the fear in their eyes, the fear that they wouldn’t come back; but Kite was there, patting them on the shoulder and generally lifting their spirits.

Next, I passed the Gunner’s room. The Gunners provided cover and support while the Gliders flew about. When we attacked unarmed civilian ships like our current target, the Gunners weren’t really necessary but the Hunters were getting sneakier every day. The Gunners were attaching scopes to their rifles and checking their bullet count.

I had come to the end of the corridor. The door to the Captain’s Quarters stood in front of me. We had been attacking more and more ships recently. We were giving pirates a bad name; well, a worse one.

I put my hand on the ID recognition pad. It buzzed and whirred as It confirmed my contours. In terms of security, the Captain’s Quarters were the most secure place on the whole ship. The walls were a significant few inches thicker and stronger than any other on the ship. There were five state-of-the-art locks on the only door into the room and a powerful sentry gun hid in the shadows. At the moment, only the ID pad lock was active. I slid the door open and walked inside.

The smoke-filled room (a lot of the pirates enjoyed a cigarette before a raid) was crowded. This would be our biggest raid yet, using every pirate onboard. I pushed my to the front, to where the Captain was going over the attack plan.

“Tonight, we’ll have half the Gliders fly down straight at the target, led by Kite, and the other half, led by Gillis, fly around the target and attack from the portside of the target. Gunners, I want half covering the Gliders and the other half watching out for Hunters. We’ve heard there is increased Hunter activity in this area.”

An uneasy silence and an anxious shuffling of feet met this piece of news. Keen to break the stillness, the Captain turned to me.

“Isaac,”

“Sir?”

“Play attack song Feta this time”

Attack song Feta. That was a tricky one to play. I rarely played it and it was extraordinarily complicated. One wrong note and a dozen Gliders crash and burn on the side of the ship.

“Ye-Yes, Sir.”

“Good we strike in twenty minutes from now”

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It was twenty minutes later. I was standing on the Observation Deck, the highest point of the Airship. The raid was about to commence and I was making final checks.

Goggles … check. Windwhistler … check. Jacket … check (although it was more like a protective suit). Binoculars … check. Rifle … check. Parachute … not checks. Crap, I’d forgotten my parachute. If I fell, I’d die, simple as that. I tried blocking the thought from my head – I won’t fall, I won’t fall, I won’t fall …

I steeled myself and blew a single note on the Windwhistler. That was the signal to start the attack. The engineers manipulated the engines so that the ship rose quickly out of the clouds. I fell forward but steadied myself on the safety rail. The Gliders flew out of the hangar. The Gunners aimed their weapons from the Ring. The Ring was a metal causeway lining the middle of the airbag. It gave the Gunners a most advantageous position.

As the gliders approached, the grey, cumbersome airship seemed to shed its airbag. Surely jettisoning their airbag at 35,000 feet would be suicide.

I picked up my binoculars to get a better view. The airship hadn’t shed its real airbag! All it had dropped was a fake airbag, revealing underneath heavy armaments and sharp shooting Hunters!

The Gliders realised the danger they’d flown into and tried to escape, but they were easy targets for the Hunter. I tossed the Binoculars aside and picked up the rifle. I wasn’t the best shot in the crew but the Gliders below needed all the cover they could get. If I could just save one Glider …

And so ensued a bloody battle of the skies. What started out as a routine raid had turned into a desperate effort to escape while attempting to rescue as many Gliders as possible.

I managed to shoot down seven Hunters, only in their arms though. They may be vicious Hunters, and I may be a Pirate but I couldn’t bring myself to kill a man. Unfortunately, the Hunters didn’t share my creed.

As I lined up my sights for the eighth Hunter, the Hunter lined up his sights for me. We fired at the same time and I tried to dodge their shot.

Regrettably, I was a fraction of a second too late. The bullet, which was on course for my head, impacted in my shoulder, tearing through my jacket like tinfoil. I gasped with pain and staggered backwards. I came against the safety rail. I put my hand out to steady myself but, whether because of rain or blood, I slipped and tumbled over the rail and off the Observation Deck.

I skidded down the side of the airbag, trying to block the pain in my shoulder long enough for me to think straight. The Ring! I should land on the Ring and one of the Gunners should come help me. Oww, Pain!

After a few excruciating seconds, I hit the Ring but I didn’t stop! I had hurtled down the airbag so fast I had simply burst straight through the walkway, adding fresh pain to my already battered body.

The one raid where I forget my parachute and get shot and fall off the airship, my home. The irony was somehow lost on me as I fell through the clouds

I frantically searched my person for something, anything that might help me. I searched my pockets and my hand closed on the Windwhistler.

Playing it one last time couldn’t hurt. Maybe it would cheer me up before I died. Maybe a surviving Glider would hear it and rescue me, if there were any still alive.

I brought it to my lips, and blew …