ATWinPC-10

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==Chapter 10 - A Toreel Wizard in Prince Davion's Court==
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===From the Eyes in the Sky point of View===
October 14th, 3025
"What the hell are we looking at?" Brett Turner, Taurian Citizens Militia, said as their helo orbited the battle zone.
"It appears to be a dragon made out of old spoons, a little flying Elf girl, and a Canopean stripper with a taste for cosplay, Section Leader." Corporal Ernest Weldon replied in an even, almost disinterested tone as he looked the odd trio over with his binoculars.
Brett had been ordered to take a maniple of light infantry by helo to a forward observation post, to monitor and report on the raiders movements, but those orders had quickly changed to "get there fast and radio back what the hell was going on."
"You want to radio that back to the Brigadier?" Brett asked Ernest. 
"Not even a little, Section Leader." Ernest replied. 
"Didn't think so." Brett said. "Send to command two enemies..." the Wolverine that had been walking around without a head like that was freaking normal suddenly collapsed. "Check that, three enemies down. One in retreat. Will send further reports as we gather more information." 
As Ernest busied himself with the radio, Brett glanced over to the pilot. "Set us down somewhere out of biting range." he ordered.
"You sure about this, sir?" the pilot asked, jittery. Technically he wasn't even militia, neither was the helo, the militia just had standing agreements to use them in emergencies. Brett didn't know if the pilot was afraid of being eaten, or just afraid he'd have to pay for it if the helo got eaten.
"I'm sure," Brett said. "They're... probably on our side?" He looked around the cabin to the rest of the men in the maniple. "Everybody look nonthreatening. Or unappetizing. Whichever."
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===Electing whose going to be the Spokes Person===
"Stop squirming!" Celia demanded as she rested her hand on L'heo's wound. "You and I both know that this doesn't hurt."
"The healing doesn't hurt," L'heo protested. "The injury is still tender to the touch!"
"All the more reason for you to hold still so I can get this done, you gigantic baby." Celia said. As magic coursed through her hand she looked to Chim. "I fear I won't be able to completely heal this wound, my lady," she said. "I'm afraid I may have spent too much of my abilities on myself. Please forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive," Chim said. Sometimes it felt like a mantra with her. "L'heo is tougher than both of us, he'll be fine."
"He certainly doesn't act like it," Celia said as she looked back to her work. "The flying machine appears to be landing," she added.
"Yeah," Chim said. They hadn't really noticed the vehicle hovering overhead until the fight was over. Fortunately, it didn't seem intent on attacking them. And it didn't look particularly threatening, more like one of Dad's crazy old flying contraptions. There had been vehicles like it parked at the far end of the landing pad, so it probably belonged to the locals. Still...
"If they come out shooting," Chim said, "just take cover behind L'heo, and I'll teleport us out. I don't want to hurt any locals if I can avoid it."
Celia nodded. "What about Polly?" she asked.
Chim looked to the side. Polly and... she assumed the person he was hovering around was his prisoner... were still about thirty yards away from them, moving at what seemed a casual walk. The flying vehicle had landed significantly further away than that, but Chim had seen just how far the sort of weapons these people would be carrying could reach.
"Polly will know what to do," she said. She had a sneaking suspicion that her familiar had already used his own limited teleportation ability, but the cat had other tricks, so it wasn't likely they'd be able to catch him if it turned violent.
The spinning blades on the top of the flying machine hadn't even stopped spinning when six people emerged from the vehicle, all clearly armed. They all moved with practiced efficiency, keeping their heads low until they were clear of the blades. Once there, they stopped, with one man in the middle giving them directives of some sort before moving forward, alone. His impressively large gun was out, but it wasn't aiming at anybody, pointed towards the ground as he approached. Something Chim had heard described as "muzzle discipline".
(Chim and her people had not actually been completely unfamiliar with guns. The legions of the Goblin King Zog used a lot of crude, dangerously unstable firearms, but disciplined gun use was an entirely new concept to her.)
"My turn to do the talking." she said. 
"You think they'll listen to you?" L'heo asked. "They tend to assume you're a child."
"It'll be fine," Chim replied. "You just stay back here and look intimidating."
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===Explanation of what had happened===
To Brett's surprise, it was the child that had chosen to approach, hovering a bit less than a meter off the ground, thus keeping her at eye level. He concentrated on maintaining an impassive, professional demeanor, trying not to think about every way this whole situation was impossible, wrong, and impossibly wrong. 
"Afternoon, ma'am," he said once she was close enough for polite speaking. The girl looked briefly surprised at his address, which Brett took as a sign he'd gained the conversational advantage.
"I'm not sure how to address you," the girl replied. 
"Section Leader Brett Turner, Taurian Citizens Militia," Brett said. "Mister Turner is fine, we don't stand too much on ceremony. Our records say I should address you as Shim?"
The girl looked annoyed. "Chim is fine," she said, with just enough emphasis in the right spot to let Brett know about the clerk's error. "What can I help you with, Mister Turner?"
"Well," Brett said, his mind working overtime wondering where to begin. "It seems you stepped right into the middle of militia business right out the gate, drove off a band of pirates, and somehow snuck a gigantic lizard through customs, and I'd be greatly appreciative if you could make all this make any sort of sense." 
"That..." the girl hesitated for a moment. "That could take some time. I suppose if I told you it was magic that wouldn't be good enough."
"That's usually what people say when they're being sarcastic," Brett said.
"That's what I thought," the girl said. "Can I leave it at 'it's complicated?'"
"Complicated is definitely above my pay grade," Brett said. "My superiors are going to want to talk all about it with your people. There may be yelling about playing in our sandbox."
The girl got defensive. "We couldn't just let them do what they wanted," she said.
"Just saying," Brett replied. "Brass gets touchy when civilians jump into their mess. Between you, me, the great big lizard, and..." he blinked with surprise, hopefully the only time he'd visibly lost his composure, "...the cat apparently flying towards us, you probably saved a lot of lives. My boss would have just liked to know you were going to do it."
The aforementioned cat stopped next to the girl. "Hey," he said to Brett with a casual tone, "you look like you know things. Who do I talk to about handing over prisoners? And what's the policy on loot?"
"And it talks," Brett said. "Because of course it talks..."
"Did he give you trouble?" the girl said to the cat. 
"Very reasonable fellow," the cat said. "I left him with L'heo and Celia. Don't think he'll give us any trouble. But seriously, I get to keep his doohickey, right?" 
"What would you do with a thirty foot tall war machine?" the girl asked the cat.
"Obviously you'd wake it up for me so I can keep it as a pet," the cat replied. 
"Absolutely not!" the girl protested. "We don't have anywhere to keep it."
"Okay, hold on," Brett said. "Let's start with the things I actually understand. You have prisoners for us?"
"Yup," the cat said. "I talked one in to giving up."
"We have another one as well," The girl said. "He's trapped in his machine though. The third one..." she looked down, clearly ashamed, "...he... didn't survive."
It was probably the most normal thing Brett had seen this girl do since he met her. "You shouldn't feel bad about that," he said. "We know the markings these guys were wearing. They're pirates and slavers. If they'd caught you, they'd probably sell you to some perverted Davion marcher lord as a plaything. The only reason they wouldn't do worse than that is because it might reduce your market value."
The girl looked shocked. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely." Brett replied. "These scum already have a date with a rope. It's just a shame you couldn't catch more of them."
The girl seemed to think for a moment. "If that's the case..." she said. Then she uttered something unintelligible and vanished before his eyes.
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===Cheese it! The Gig has belled up!===
"What do you mean they left!" the Stinger pilot shouted over his external speakers at the pirates gathered around outside the Dropship bay door.
"They thought they could get in some plunder while the boss was looking the other way," A man on the ground hollered in response, "so they took one of the hovertrucks and took off towards the mines. We've been trying to get them on the radio..."
"Forget it!" the pilot responded. "We're leaving them behind. Get everybody back on the ship now!"
"The captain's not gonna want..."
"He's gonna want staying here a lot less once he sees what's coming!" the pilot barked in response.
Neither he nor the troops on the ground saw the invisible girl popping into existence in the sky above them.
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Okay, simple job, Chim reasoned. All she really had to do was keep them from leaving. Once their ship was out of commission, they could concentrate on either 'encouraging' them to surrender or letting Mister Alreadyforgothisname's militia handle them.
And disabling the ship would be a simple matter of one spell. So simple, in fact, that couldn't help but curse herself for not thinking about this before.
She started casting. 
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Even from a couple kilometers distance, the flash of the DropShip exploding was a spectacular, awe inspiring sight. The rain of debris that started falling all around them, less so.
As he found himself diving for cover, Brett was more concerned with trying to protect his vital areas from injury and less concerned with the question of why so many of the falling debris were wood splinters.
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Chim's mind wasn't on the aches brought about by being caught by the blast wave of the exploding ship, nor those brought by her unfortunate interface with the ground after being flung away by the same blast.
No, her only thought was on one paramount question, delivered with a hurt, confused tone.
"But why did it explode?!"
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==Chapter Notes==
*Author's Chapter Notes : Readers Questions:Transmute Metal to Wood?And, of course, what that might do to a fusion reactor is really fun.Even if it doesn't cause a fusion explosion, you also have tons of liquid hydrogen on board, which suddenly lose containment, in an atmosphere, with a ready nearby heat source. You don't even need to Stackpole: you're going to spontaneously both Challenger and Hindenberg. Author's Answers:Both! Sort of. If they had forensic investigators available, they might be able to determine whether the fuel tank or the reactor chamber went up first. But in this case, they'll probably never get beyond "First one, then the other. Then everything else that could explode."''
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