Flying Dockyard

393 AC - I give the smooth surface of the warehouse a knock. The wall is white and hard like marble, but with thin veins of tarnished gold running through it, as though the rock had a bloodstream. It's Sap, of course, although it seems to be inactive here. All the buildings, docks and pontoons of this fortress are covered with it, contrasting with the pinkish red of the Aerolith. Maybe this place was a former bastion or some kind of way station, but it was abandoned ages ago. By whom? I'll let the Ordis archeologists work that one out, once they finally decide to land. In the meantime, our Faction has planted the flag and made it our advance base.

I curse to myself as I remember the recent discussion. Twice we had clashed with Halua, and twice he had escaped. They hadn't been crushing failures, but the result was the same: He was still on the loose, and was continuing to attack us… I had put forward a new strategy, a more ambitious one, and even though it had been approved, the other captains had made it very clear to me, albeit indirectly, that it was the last chance for Ascalon. Ember! A zeppelin loaded with Aerolith suddenly passes under the gangway, probably headed for the Illyrian or Macedonian Quadrant. Let's hope the Axiom don't take too much offence at the requisition about to be imposed on them so that we can play our last card…

SOLEDAD