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On Patrol: Temporary Haven

On the way back to the docklands, the normally impenetrable cloud cover around this huge floating fuel tank parted for a few moments and golden sunshine broke through. Transfixed, I saw the huge swarm of aerial transports in constant motion – the punts whisking people and cargo from one deck to another, a few dozen traders swinging laden barges in for docking – there was even an Air Corps ship-of-the-line, a huge 94-gun three-decker emerging from the clouds.

“Aye, it’s a beautiful sight if I ever saw one. Not often that you can see from Cloudstop clearly like this.” Firus leaned on the railing beside me. “But why would a ship like that be stopping over here all on its own?”
The captain turned away, muttering something that I didn’t catch. Still bitter, I thought, even though the letter of conscription had come in two cycles ago.

On the gangway swung out to meet our Heart’s Desire, a pair of Air Corps officers were arguing with the first mate. Firus finally lost it and stormed over, hand on sword-hilt.

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