Chapter 3 – CASTLE-1

 When Lynette was waging war against the Neuroi back in Britannia she had flown over the iconic White Cliffs of Dover countless times. Their sublime natural beauty is famous around the world, and Lynn herself always felt at home whenever she saw them appear on the horizon. Compared to what is quickly approaching her and the escorted aircraft however, those cliffs seem so very tiny indeed. 

             Towering up from the thrashing deep blue waters of the ocean, shrouded in a pale, soft mist at their base, comes a colossal wall of pure white ice. Every here and there gigantic frozen boulders pile up like small mountains against the shier edge of this strange continent. The top of the ice shelf stretches off into a seemingly perfectly smooth plateau for many miles until it meets with a distant mountain range. As the flight passes over the last of the sea ice to finally venture into the bounds of Ultima Lynn is certain she caught a glimpse of a large whale below the surface of the water, as if it were greeting them to its frozen home. 

                  The sky is perfectly clear as the reconnaissance plane pushes on forward towards its first photo-target, several kilometres inland. Despite it being almost 6pm, and it being the middle of September, this clear and bright visibility is set to continue indefinitely for the entire duration of the operation. Because of the tilt of the Earth at this time of the year the sun never fully sets below the horizon. At most Lynn will experience a twilight that will last hours on end before the blazing sun appears back in the sky, never dark enough to even bother using artificial light. 

                   On and on the expedition goes, passing over a plane of endless ice as flat as a billiard table, the only sound up here in the vast sky being the constant droning of the Anson’s engines. It’s incredible to think that Lynette is likely the very first human ever to lay eyes on some of the features in this region of Ultima. While it’s commonly believed an Orussian was the first person to discover the long fabled southern continent, the first person to set foot on its shores was a Liberion. For Lynette, just being here is something of a privilege. 

                  After a little while flying ahead in a dead straight line, the recon pilot John Cobbler decides to break the silence which had overcome the crew shortly after take off, to radio his witch companion who tails just off the right wing of the plane. 

                  “Umm. Excuse me Flying Officer Bishop, would you mind if I asked you some questions? I was just wondering some things is all.” Cobbler says meekly. Receiving his message Lynn moves forward to pull up alongside the cockpit windows and look in at the airmen inside. 

               “What would you like to know Sergeant?” Lynn smiles warmly. 

               “It’s just; well… What was the war like?” the young man asks, perhaps not quite realising the gravity of such a question, a question which brings an uncomfortable silence down over everyone present. “Or well, I mean I should say, what was fighting the Neuroi like?” he continues, trying to lighten the mood with a more round about question. This doesn't stop Elliot in the co-pilot seat from looking at him like an idiot however.  

               “The war was hard, and fighting the Neuroi was… Well it was really scary at first. They moved so fast and there were so many of them, but after my first few kills, after I found I was pretty good as a fighter pilot, I stopped being afraid of them. Well… most of the time anyway. No… What I found most scary back then was not fitting in.” Lynn admits shyly, averting her eyes from the stunned pilot. 

               “You were afraid of not fitting in ma’am?” he asks, confused. 

               “I’m sorry. I was… not a very good witch, I wasn't very good at anything back then, but I was surrounded by aces who were all so much better than me. I felt… so alone. It was horrible. But then; I met a friend, and she taught me… how to value myself more often, that I could be of use to the team. I began making a lot more friends after that and, while maybe I never really did fit in completely, I stopped being so afraid. Teamwork; that’s what matters, that's what we should do, while we're out here.” Lynette says passionately with a firm resolve in her voice. 

               “Wow. I’m really happy for you Flying Officer.” Cobbler grins to the girl outside the frosty widow.

               “So did you not see combat then Sergeant Cobbler?” Lynn asks back.

               “No, I was too young at the time. I joined up after the war, to honour my father. He was shot down helping evacuate Dunkirk when I was still a child. A part of me is worried he’d be disappointed I never saw any fighting but… being here I think exploring is much more fun.” the Sergeant says softly back over his comms. 

               “It’s certainly much more beautiful.” Lynette replies. 

                Elliot however, seemingly rather fed up with this sappy conversation suddenly butts in over his own headset. 

                “Well I saw combat, Flying Officer! I fought in Berlin.” the pushy Corporal boasts. “You should listen to me mate.” he says, nudging Cobbler's shoulder slightly. “The Neuroi really were all that, got pinned down by one of them big wall things… Lost a lot of friends that day.” Elliot trails off quietly. 

                “Berlin was a difficult fight. I’m sorry for your loss Corporal White.” Lynn says comfortingly. Indeed; she remembers it well, Berlin was tough.        

               “Yeah… I was saved - by a witch like you. Don't know what squad they were from, spose it don't matter now, what with the Nueroi gone an all. Never did get to say thanks though.” Elliot admits, biting his tongue.

               “We don't need thanking. We did our duty, as you soldiers did. We never could have done it without you.” Lynn retorts. 

                Suddenly both Elliot and Cobbler are knocked about the heads by a rather irritated looking Commander Rhys.   

                “Have you both had enough pestering Miss Bishop already!? She’s supposed to be focusing on flying in the cold!” Rhys reminds them both sternly. 

                “It’s ok Commander. I’m doing fine out here.” Lynn says, trying to simmer him down. In doing so however a new question is sparked inside pilot Cobbler. 

                “Officer Bishop, something else that’s been on my mind: how are you not as cold as we are? I mean you're not wearing as much as us.” he points out. 

                “Witches like us have a good natural immunity to extremes. It is cold, but nothing much worse than a winter's day back home. All the arctic training helped as well, and my time in Orussia. I’m used to it by now.” Lynn answers.

                “Be that as it may, you have something to be doing, Officer.” Rhys says as Lynn falls back to behind the wing. When the Commander returns to his seat however his radio crackles to life, the conversation isn't quite over yet. 

                 “We’ve all told our stories Commander Rhys. Why don't you tell the boys one of yours?” Lynn suggests with a cheeky, unseen smirk.

                “Aww yeah, go on!” Elliot spurts out in excitement. 

                “Miss Bishop I wouldn't even know where to start.” Rhys sighs. 

                “Just tell them the one you told me; about the bridge.” Lynn laughs. 

                “The bridge? Yeah why not, that’s a gooden’. I was leading a squad of commandos up the Rhine by night to secure the bridge at Ludendorff. I got up into position in the girders and that's when it happened - You lot ever seen one of them Neuroi spider tank things? Bloody thing came up and pinned down all my lads. Now I ain't one for defeat, but even I have to admit it was pretty dire. I wasn't sure we were gonna make it, until a witch came along and started suppressing its fire.” Rhys recalls as he scratches his beard firmly and taps one finger on the radio set. 

                “She must have just been on patrol; because she was all alone you see. Still she laid into it fierce enough, but couldn't put it down. She did open a nice hole though, and I could see inside the red core of the thing. Now; it was fixin’ itself back up and I wasn't about to let that gals' efforts go to waste so here’s what I did; I took my knife in hand and I jumped down off that bridge. Landed right on top of the blighter, sinking the blade into its heart. Whole thing cracked like an egg and blew up. Sure I broke me arm and leg, but my squad made it through, an’ so did the witch.” Rhys continues, becoming rather animated as he does so, reenacting his movements as he talks. It’s safe to say both Elliot and Cobbler are stunned by the Commander's rather unbelievable tale. Regardless he assures them; that’s exactly how it happened. 

            By now the light aircraft is approaching the first of its reconnocence targets. Lynette flies just behind, a happy little smile on her face as everyone seems to be getting along. The engines buzz, and the plane's metal skin rattles every now and then from minor turbulence. The endless, eternal sky is as clear as it had been since their departure. 

            And then it isn't…

           Suddenly, the sky darkens and a whirlwind of raging snow and icy mist descends on the expedition in a moment far too fast to even see coming. The Anson tosses about, pitching, rolling, diving, and quivering like a rag doll in the cataclysmic hurricane of cold. Both pilots desperately try to wrestle control back from their unresponsive yokes with little success as Rhys struggles to keep his balance and pull himself along towards the cockpit.  

          “What the bloody hell are you doing man?!” Rhys yells in astonishment. 

          “I don't know what happened sir! The sky was clear and… This all came out of nowhere!” Cobbler explains as he practically cements his hands to the flight controls. 

          “We have to get out of this storm now!” Elliot desperately says through clenched teeth. “Officer Bishop, are you there!? Bishop!” He calls out over the radio, receiving no reply, only a painful pitched static. 

           Lynette herself is likewise in trouble as she is thrown about the inside of this terrible blizzard. Blinded by a wall of swirling whiteness she stumbles and falls head over heels trying to orient herself, confused, scared, and without any idea where the recon plane has ended up. 

            “C-Commander! Anybody!” the witch yells into her ear piece to no avail, the cyclone blocking any calls for help she might send out.

            Back in the Anson; all chaos is breaking loose. Anything un-secure is rocketed around inside the cabin at dangerous speeds, and a few inside panels shake free and clang around creating a horrendously loud din. The large camera, which was intended to capture the sights of Ultima, breaks free from its brackets in the converted gun-turret and smashes to the floor, spilling long spools of film into the fuselage which coil about like angry snakes. Commander Rhys almost slams his head into the ceiling following one particularly violent drop in altitude as he attempts to secure the parachutes and gear strapped in at the back of the plane. It is then that a sickening grinding sound captures the attention of everyone present. Even through the carnage they know what just happened. 

              “We’ve lost engine one!” Elliot calls out in horror. 

              “Keep calm lads! Just get us out of the mist!” Rhys demands as he struggles to un-buckle a large bright orange equipment bag from the storage area. 

              A thick smoke begins to belch from the snow clogged right side engine just as pilot Cobbler spies a momentary glimmer of blue sky through the storm. 

               “I think it’s letting up! I can see the sky!” he yells to his comrades, just as the clouds before the Anson open up like some kind of heavenly gateway into the still, calm and crystal clear sky once more. “We made it!” the young man sighs in relief, finally lifting a trembling hand from the controls to calm his beating heart. As he does so however the second engine grinds to a pitiful halt as well, leaving the plane in a stricken glide. 

               “It’s not over yet boys!” says Elliot as he tries again and again to re-ignite both deadened engines with little result. “Shit! Landing gears frozen up an’ all! Commander; your orders Sir!?” he asks, turning back to look at Rhys, just as a drab parachute bag is thrust against his chest by the burley, steely eyed commando. 

               “Get those on you lads! We’re leaving!” Rhys demands as he hefts the massive orange bag towards the rear cabin doors. Both crewmen struggle and fumble slightly as they strap their chutes on, the metal clasps clunking and clicking as their hands shake from nerves. Neither one had ever parachuted for real before, only Cobbler having completed a simulated jump from the roof of one of his barrack buildings. Their struggle is made even worse after the Commander wrenches open the door, flooding the plane with a sudden burst of ice cold wind. 

                At last, after both Elliot and Cobbler have their bags safely secured, Rhys motions for the would-be cameraman to join him in pushing the large kit-bag out of the plane. After some pushing the orange pack is away, and the impatient Welshman nudges Elliot also out the door with as much grace as a charging bull.

              “Aw nah now wait a minute Gov! It’s freezin’ me taters out there! Lets just av a chat about this yeah-” the shivering Londoner stutters before he is unceremoniously jettisoned from the powerless aircraft. The man plummets, screaming his lungs out as he vanishes down below the plane and Rhys turns his attention to Cobbler. 

               “Alright son, leave the controls alone now, they aint doing us any good!” he says, calling down the aisle towards the cockpit. Cobbler, who looks markitley less scared than his long-gone companion, dutifully follows orders and comes out to meet his Commander by the swirling winds of the exit door. “That's it lad. Now jump!” Rhys yells, again about to push his subordinate from the plane. However; at that very moment a terrible bout of turbulence wrocks the gliding Anson from side to side, tossing Rhys back into the cabin and causing Cobbler to fall from the door, only to snag his pack on the frame. Terrified and disoriented the young pilot screams for his very life as his body is thrashed against the side of the aeroplane, which now begins to enter a steady dive. 

                Back inside; Commander Rhys shakes his head, coming back to his senses. His shock wears off quickly as he hears Cobbler's desperate cries for help. The floor of the plane at this point is at an almost untenable angle, and moving towards the tail section is more like a vertical-wall climb. Rhys jumps and pulls himself up on the secure seats and radio desk, gripping tightly to the edges of the window frames and shattered camera mount. Demonstrating incredible upper body strength the rough and tumble commando finally reaches the door and Cobbler's flailing body. It’s a sorry sight, and it seems unlikely Rhys could be able to free the man without destroying his parachute. Making a snap decision he quickly pulls a combat knife from his boot and lunges forward, slashing the offending strap free from the doorframe, and allowing Cobbler to fall roughly away. The move also sends Rhys himself from the plane, and not a moment too soon, as any later and it’s unlikely his parachute would have been of much use.  

             Meanwhile Lynette has at long last found her way out of the raging blizzard. She rips the useless flight goggles from her eyes which have become thick and frosted over. Upon doing so the exhausted witch notices the recon plane in the distance, quickly losing altitude with long plumes of smoke trailing behind it. Immediately she blasts her strikers to full throttle and races towards the falling Anson. What takes only seconds surely feels like many minutes; as the speeding witch approaches the plane closer and closer. 

            She sees; from a distance Elliot and the orange bag fall out, a large rounded parachute opening safely moments later. Lynn breathes a sigh of relief just as the plane enters its fatal dive. She pushes her units to their absolute max right as Cobbler and Rhys also eject into the sky. Both of their chutes blast open above them, slowing their fall to such an extent that the speeding witch actually overshoots, and by the time she has turned around; all of her comrades are down on ground far below her. In the distance the sound of an explosion rolls across the wide open, empty expanse of Ultima. The Anson had finally crashed somewhere among the snow drifts, a dark plume of oily smoke rising up into the air, almost polluting the serene, pure, untouched whiteness of the landscape. 

          Lynette spools down her units as she approaches her friends, the engines sputtering as the magical propellers vanish in a blue glow. She drops a few inches, burying the nose-cones into the deep snow and keeping them standing upright just enough so that she may pull her long legs free. 

          “Are you all ok!?” Lynn asks in shock, noticing that both Rhys and Cobbler seem to be crowding around Elliot who lays still on the ground. Quickly trudging to meet them all she sees that the Londoner is in immense pain, clutching at his legs with a face of contorted, tear streaked agony. “What happened?” the witch questions in horror.

           “The bloody idiot broke both his fuckin’ legs. Tuck and roll man, tuck and roll!” Rhys shouts angrily as he tries to stop his floundering comrade from thrashing about. Cobbler stands back slightly, paralysed somewhat by the scene before him. 

           “It hurts! Am I gonna die Sir!? Not here Sir!” Elliot screams pitifully. It's a horrible sight for Lynn. She’s seen plenty of injuries, many much worse than this, yet she never really did get used to it. At least there’s no blood, so his skin wasn't broken. If only Miyafuji were here…

           “You aint gonna die! Listen to me; you ain't gonna die! You just can't stand up!” the Commander says, trying desperately to reassure Elliot. “Bishop! We threw a kit of survival gear out of the plane before it crashed. It’s a bright orange bag. Go back up there and look for it! Now!” the angry Commander orders. Obeying; Lynn rushes to take back off, gaining plenty of height to scan for the obvious bag laying on this huge, blank canvas. They're certainly going to need it, and not just for the medical supplies for Elliot. As of now; all four of them are trapped miles inland on the most mysterious, unexplored continent on Earth.