History of an Airship Pirate
The True Tale of Captain Kellen Byern
Realms Writing
Kellen sat on the damp cardboard shoving the stolen bread into his mouth as quickly as he could. His eyes darted between the faces of the people who passed, though not a one looked down.
They pretended not to see him, avoiding looking down at him and sidestepped him like the overfull bins on the sides of the streets.
Bare footsteps slapped against the wet stones as Niels slid to Kellen.
“Kell, they’re coming! You gotta run!” The other boy whispered urgently, pulling on Kellen’s sleeve. “The baker told them it was you and the officers are coming!”
Kellen groaned and stood, shoving the last of the bread into the other boy’s hands. “Don’t they have anything better to do? Go get Jess, tell her we gotta move now.”
With a small shove of dismissal, Kellen stepped towards the opening of the alley and peeked out.
“Remember to watch your sister tonight,” Kellen said, then slipped out into the next group that walked.
Rain began pouring, water flowing out of the entry to the buildings. The cloth nailed to them were the only things blocking the inside from the rest of the world. Few houses were lucky enough to have a complete roof, let alone wooden doors.
Kellen walked, hands in his pockets, and looked towards the better end of town, slipping through people’s houses as easily as he would the streets.
Tonight would be their biggest heist yet. That, Kellen thought, would be the ticket out of the warrens and into a better life.
His hands clenched in the pockets of his pants as he walked with his head down, wet hair making a curtain to hide his face.
It sickened him to see the streets like this while the people who claimed to work for THEIR good sat fat in their overly cushioned chairs, passing down rules they didn’t even follow.
Kellen pulled a small watch from his pocket. It had been the last thing his father had given him. Under the cracked face it read 9 pm.
He jogged towards the edge of the warrens and onto the less crowded streets.
At nine thirty, a truck would be leaving the Grand Fall Station carrying food for them.
He had learned long ago, by following these trucks, that they made two stops. The first stop was just before it reached the district line, where it unloaded nearly half of the food onto another truck, which traveled back up to the Grand Fall Station.
Then, the first one would deliver the meager rations the poor half of the town.
He supposed that’s why they put mandatory curfews up, so that no one knew that the warrens weren’t getting their share.
They worked the farms, the sewers, the degrading jobs everyone else didn’t want to. It didn’t pay nearly half as much as the Doctors, the Lawyers, or the Airship Pilots, but it paid enough to keep them alive.
Just barely.
Kellen was a second generation sewer worker, keeping it clean and killing the infestations.
Infestations in the form of mutated animals.
His father was a district policeman, before the explosion that took out half of the city. After that, the jobs dealing with “Safety, Protection and Services of the People” (not directly disgusting) were dealt with by everyone in the upper half of town.
His father had been demoted to sewer worker, and his family suffered.
Kellen’s father had died about four years ago; the sickness had taken half of the population, and with it.
How any nonsensical bureaucrat could think that anyone down there was thriving was beyond him. It was more likely that they didn’t care.
All this political warfare and candidate election mess was idiotic, in Kellen’s view. However, it was ironic that the election’s were exactly the distractions he needed.
While everyone was inside the schoolhouses listening to the lies being spewed, he would sneak in and take what was rightfully the property of the people.
His people.
The young man reached his destination, a rather large building with gaudy signs and over-expensive flooring and marble countertops. As everyone was preoccupied with the election campaign, no one was guarding the bank.
After all, who would expect a dull, sewer working, lower class boy to figure out the codes and understand the higher tech wiring of Lester and Krillshtok’s Banking.
He pulled the small machine from his pocket and set it beside the door lock. Normally they wouldn’t open without a code of nine digits.
Normally, people didn’t carry around code breakers.
The initial stage was over, and the beep signaled his success. He opened the door and stepped just inside the threshold.
Now the fun began.
(-) (-) (-)
“Sir,” the lieutenant said, tapping the dozing policeman from his sleep.
“What is it, Harold!” He snapped, pulling his cap back from his face and glaring at the short, stocky man.
“Well, it seems that we have a curfew breach in the outskirts. Fourteen people have gone missing, and the Role Call Supervisor can’t find them. Sky above, they can’t even find a wrench ‘r a blowtorch. Seems as though they’ve up and flown out of here.”
“Well, if they’ve decided to abandon that shanty town, then let ‘em leave. What harm are they causin’ us? We get more of the share of food, then. Leave ‘em be.” He replaced the cap back over his face and leaned back in the chair.
“Uh… right then.” Harold shrugged and turned around. As much as it pained him to admit, the poor folk leaving didn’t really impact him much, besides going home earlier in the evening.
(-) (-) (-)
Kellen tossed the last of the money filled bags into the cargo area of the Argo, a shoddy airship that had flown more than its fair share. Still, she hadn’t let them down yet.
“Is everyone here?” He asked Jesse, a girl of about 16. She pulled her bright red hair into a tie and grinned at him. “We’ve been waiting on you, Kell. Seems like we’ll make a clean getaway.”
Kellen smiled back at her. “So who’s driving this thing?” He asked, dragging one of the bags away from the drop area of the ship.
“I think Elijah.”
“He didn’t seem too keen on coming with us before,” Kellen frowned, pulling a pair of worn shoes onto his feet.
“He cares more than he leads on,” she patted his shoulder. “As much as he hated his life as an Air Soldier, I guess he wouldn’t mind too much to take a bunch of orphans on the world’s greatest journey.”
Kellen nodded slightly. “Well, you at least told him we have to make a small drop off in the lower district, right?”
“I think that’s what sold him,” she said, then started walking towards the engine room. “Just wait for his instructions, then you can be the Rainmaker.”
# # #
“Unknown Airship leaving ground on the city district’s line. Vessel’s communications are offline.” Seargent Alexandra Tarry said, adjusting her glasses as she tapped away at the glass screen, attempting to identify the ship. “Orders, sir?” She asked, looking back to the Air Soldier’s Commander in charge, Darren Nicholias.
“Send Challafé’s vessel after. And give a warning shot, maybe it’s just a bunch of kids playing on daddy’s ship again.” He said coldy, face scrunched.
“You’re making that face again.” She said, then began typing the instructions to the other ship’s captains.
# # #
“Shots fired!” Elijah’s voice yelled over the comm. The ship gave a violent jerk as a loud crash deafened those aboard.
Kellen struggled to climb the stair to the helm. The ship wasn’t losing altitude, thankfully.
“Elijah!” Kellen called, hoisting himself onto the top deck where the elderly man stood, trying to stop the beeping, screeching alarms.
“Come here!” Elijah told Kellen, pulling the lever that controlled the ships altitude. They weren’t quite high enough to clear the buildings.
“Grab the wheel! I need you to keep her steady while I redirect power supply. Just keep her straight, ok?”
The boy obeyed, grabbing the wheel and trying to keep the ship as level as possible.
“I thought Jesse was supposed to be up here helping you?”
“She went to check if their sister was alright. She was near the blast.” He said as he pressed buttons, typed things on the screen, and that loud, ear bleeding sound stopped.
“They’re giving another one!” Elijah yelled, jumping from the screens and running towards Kellen. “Turn left!!!” He yelled, then yanked on the altitude lever, jerking the massive ship upwards.
The second shot narrowly missed, crumbling what was left of the old clocktower.
“Push that lever,” Elijah ordered, and Kellen obeyed.
He heard his heart and little else now, his fingers cold. His stomach cramped and he held his breath.
The Argo propelled forward as Kellen applied pressure to the lever, and the ship slowly began gaining speed.
“Now head north-north west.” Elijah ordered as he hurried back to the computer screens.
Kellen glanced across the gauges, hardly able to read them. There, that one.
Elijah returned and grabbed the wheel, sweat dripping down his bald head. “Ready for your final act?” He asked, lips pressed together and eyes wide. Kellen could see how small his pupils were.
He nodded, then ran toward the stairs. He skipped every other step climbing down, flying across metal floor. The air was potent with gunpowder and oil.
Jesse, Neils and their little sister were already buckling up.
He sighed, his shoulders sagging and the ache in his neck less. The blast hadn’t taken a single person.
Jesse helped him grab the mesh bags, so full of the awful but necessary money, and held them over the edge of the ship, emptying them.
Cash rained down alongside the water and sparks, falling atop the buildings and streets.
They may not get to keep it all once the Air Troops marched through, but they could hide some.
Maybe the next kid wouldn’t have to steal bread and hide in the alleyway.
The orphans watched, wide eyed and mouths agape.
Kellen slumped against the side of the ship when it was all done, head pounding and a bone aching tiredness sweeping over him.
He wasn’t the smartest kid, he wasn’t the strongest, but he would be damned if he would let poverty take him laying down.
Part of him felt weak, for simply running away from the city; but part of him felt strong for making the break for it.
He vowed silently, as the ship forged ahead through the icy downpour, that he would return and buy the whole city.
He would show them how life should really be, then. How it SHOULD be.
Until then, though, he had the others.
Kellen stood, a small smile on his lips and tears in his eyes. All he had was hope, but that was all he needed.
