Page 5 of Storm to Victory
“Now I understand why you’re so motivated to shower first.” Pip rolled her eyes as they neared the large door separating the two hangar bays. “Well, tough. Besides, all the showers will be taken at this point. You might as well be productive while you wait.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to put up with my stink.” Fieran sniffed at his shirt and gave an exaggerated grimace.
She hurried through the door into Bay 5 and gestured at the rows upon rows of the gleaming new Althidon aeroplanes, which had arrived for the elven half of the squadron while they’d been gone. “They came!”
Lt. Rothilion and a handful of the elven pilots of Flight A—those unlucky enough not to claim a shower—meandered through the hangar bay, inspecting their new aeroplanes. They weren’t quite as effusive as the human flyboys had been when receiving their new Defenders, but Pip caught a few of the elves gazing at their new aeroplanes with the adoration they might give to a particularly beautiful tree.
Fieran released her hand and strode to the nearest aeroplane, halting next to where Lt. Rothilion stood.
At Fieran’s approach, Lt. Rothilion grimaced, his nose flaring, and eased back a step. “You are rather malodorous.”
“Yes, yes, I know.” Fieran flapped a hand at him and rolled his eyes. “As if you elves still smell like a sparkling fresh forest even after a lack of showers and fresh laundry.”
“Of course we do. Elves are superior.” Lt. Rothilion spoke completely flat and straight-faced, that tilt to his nose giving away that he was being just as sarcastic as Fieran, in his own elven way.
Pip positioned herself upwind of the two of them. Neither of them smelled like a bouquet of roses.
Fieran sobered and studied the new aeroplane before them. “These new aeroplanes look like they will keep up with the Defenders better than your old Yshendars.”
“Yes.” Lt. Rothilion gave a sharp nod.
Fieran’s expression turned even more somber as he waved at the nose of the aeroplane. “I suppose without Pretty Face…”
Pretty Face. Pip swallowed at the now familiar ache. There still had been no word of him. If he was going to walk out of Mongavaria, he would’ve done it by now. They could only hope he’d been captured rather than killed.
Rothilion gave a slight sniff. “We elves are capable of painting our own aeroplanes. We will not forgo the badge of the Half-Breed Squadron.”
How far Lt. Rothilion and the other elves of Flight A had come since the Half-Breed Squadron had been formed, almost haphazardly, at Dar Goranth.
“Ah, yes. Then I will leave the artwork in your capable hands.” Fieran shared a nod with Lt. Rothilion before he turned back to Pip. “This was worth putting off a shower.”
“The new aeroplanes are nice, but not all I wanted to show you.” Pip grabbed his hand again and dragged him away from Lt. Rothilion. She didn’t figure the elf lieutenant would mind the abrupt departure.
She led Fieran to the corner of the hangar where she’d had the ground crew pull one of the new aeroplanes closer to a workbench.
Fieran chuckled and gestured as they approached. “How long were these new aeroplanes parked here before you started fiddling with one?”
“A day.” Pip squirmed under Fieran’s look. “Well, a few hours. I had nothing else to do with the squadron away.”
She’d helped the mechanics for the other two squadrons after a few bombing raids, but even that hadn’t been enough to keep her busy.
But helping out those mechanics and seeing how shot up the aeroplanes of the other squadrons got had sparked this idea.
“Do you remember how I tried to create a magical shield for the aeroplanes back at Dar Goranth?” Pip halted beside the aeroplane.
“Yes. The magic of the ancient kings kept burning the aeroplane. And it drained the magical power cell too quickly.” Fieran stopped as well, studying the wires she’d rigged on the side of the aeroplane.
Those problems were the reasons they had stuck with him providing an active shield for the aeroplanes. That way he could control the magic directly.
“Yes, exactly. But I finally figured out how to overcome those problems.” Pip hopped onto the toe step of the aeroplane and patted the side, where a strip of aluminum lay beneath the protective wire, even though Fieran had probably already noted it. “Louise sent me a roll of thin aluminum. It isn’t enough on its own, but once I infused it with my magic, it prevents the magic from leaping from the wires and burning the canvas.”
“Smart.” Fieran nodded, his gaze taking in the strips of aluminum.
“And as for the other problem, that was even simpler.” Pip pointed toward the aeroplane’s nose. “I added a second magical power cell. The older aeroplanes didn’t have the space for it, but these do. I’ve rigged it so that the shield runs exclusively from this second power cell. The shield still drains the power cell quickly, but that power cell can be safely used up without risking engine power. I added a switch so the shield can be turned on and off as needed to conserve power or if one of those magic-grabbing machines is in the area.”
The solutions were, she’d almost kicked herself for not thinking of them sooner. But the older aeroplanes back at Dar Goranth hadn’t been sturdy enough to add anything else to them, nor had there been space for an additional magical power cell. It hadn’t been until aeroplane technology had progressed enough that she had been able to make these modifications.
“You’re making me obsolete. Again.” Fieran gave her an exaggerated scowl.
