#skycraft

[gameraboy2]

Skycraft Surplus, Winter Park, Florida

[asdaricus]

Titanships, that is great aerial titancraft airships from the World of Asdar, at one of the several great cities of that world

by Midjourney v5

[charmwasjess]

I legitimately didn't remember how fucking batshit funny some of the Dooku sections in Claudia Gray's Master and Apprentice were. Qui-Gon's remembering his first mission with Dooku in flashback: okay, seems straightforward enough. They land in an ongoing crisis in a battle zone, Dooku goes to talk to the generals. Then, next scene, we smashcut directly to:

"Don't be afraid." Dooku's voice rang out over even the howling winds of Shurrapak. Qui-Gon clung to the carbon-fibre-rope riggings of the Shurrapakan ship, salt spray stinging his face and hands as they rounded the cape to approach the battle from an angle the enemy wouldn't expect. "They're shielded against skycraft and energy weapons. Not against seafaring vessels!" He made this sound majestic, courageous, brilliant -- nothing like the last-minute, last-ditch attempt it really was. Qui-Gon took a deep breath and stared up at the stars. Big mistake. The stars weren't moving and his stomach was, and the queasiness that swept through him made him feel weak.

Dooku has been on this planet for less than 24 hours. There are already other Jedi there ahead of him with established generals working on the battle plans, which according to the scene just before this, are complete enough that its conceivable Dooku and Qui-Gon will miss the action. So naturally, the plan he then comes up with is "ABANDON ALL OTHER PLANS, WE ATTACK THE FORTIFIED BATTLEFIELD WITH OLD TIMEY ROPE-RIGGED SAILING SHIPS!"

And at his side?? A seasick twelve year old who has never left the Temple or seen battle!!! Who can't swim! And backing them up?? Rael fucking Averross, who Dooku was just nagging for being too eager to get into the fighting. Sure, Dooku. That's Rael's problem.

This is the most disaster lineage shit I've ever read. This could absolutely be an Anakin and Obi-Wan Clone Wars arc.

Bonus Rael and Qui-Gon Content, from earlier in the chapter:

"C'mon, then, let's go talk to the generals." Rael made it sound like the most natural thing for a twelve-year-old to do.

Rael, you crazy motherfucker, never change.

[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 4

series masterlist

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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni! ageless blogs dni! none this chapter but the series will have eventual smut, canon-level violence and just general warnings.

It’s been a week since you and Anakin last spoke. Or even made eye contact, really. Everytime that your eyes accidentally lock, you both whip your heads the other way, awkwardly remembering the closeness between the two of you. You know it’s wrong— newlyweds shouldn’t be playing bashful lovers, but goodness, his mouth on your skin in such an intimate manner had lingered in your thoughts for far too long. 

You haven’t even trained since that first day, forced to attempt the moves in the shower or the privacy of your dressing room on your own. And though Anakin shares the bed with you, he sneaks in when he thinks you’re asleep and is sure to leave before you wake. 

Fortunately, you’ve been kept totally busy— the Sandtek Corporation has drafted a new agreement to supply Naboo’s military with modified Skyflippers, and as Queen, it’s your responsibility to read all of the agreement conditions before approving it. Unfortunately, it’s all piloting jargon, and it’s all flying over your head. You sit at the desk in the palace library with your head in your hands, groaning at the mess of paperwork before you before thumping your head on the polished wood. Reyna, your body double, is busy attending some publicity event— a celebration for the royalty thrown by the agricultural sector. Since you didn’t need to be doing anything there, it was decided that she’ll go while you look over the policies. You know the Separatists want you to agree to it, but you can’t for the life of you figure out why. After all, their entire mission is to weaken Naboo, bring it on the brink of collapse to sow their own seeds of chaos. There had to be something you were missing— exactly what was it? 

You’re still reading the paperwork hopelessly when the door to the library creaks open, and Anakin slides in, unaware of your presence. When he does finally notice you he freezes, the stiffness detected from the corner of your eyes. He holds his hand up quickly— likely that noise bubble thing he’d mentioned earlier— before he speaks. 

“Sorry for the intrusion, milady,” He says rather awkwardly. Anakin’s metal fingers trails against the books as he searches for something. “Just looking for a book.” You snort almost instinctively in response. 

“I didn’t know you could read,” you quip slyly, fixing your gaze on the papers before you as a smirk creeps across your face. Anakin remains in a stunned silence before a short chuckle escapes him, spreading to a full-bodied laugh as the awkwardness of the past week leaves the two of you. You’re both so desperate for companionship that it just makes sense. 

“Funny, milady,” he says, making his way to the desk. “Might I ask what you’re reading?” 

“Oh, Maker, what a good question, Anakin,” you sigh dramatically. “Something about skycraft.” At this, he perks up. 

“Skycraft? Might I take a look?” When you nod your approval, he comes to stand beside you, leaning over you as he looks at the blueprints for the modifications of the Skyflippers. “No, that’s not right,” he murmurs, grabbing the blueprints in his confusion as you watch him. 

“What is it?”

“These modifications, they’re… all in the wrong place for battle,” Anakin insists. “They’ve gone and reinforced all the parts that don’t need reinforcing, parts that skycraft can return back home with blast holes through them. Meanwhile, the combustive parts of the skycraft are left vulnerable. One well-placed blast and the whole thing goes boom.” Oh. That’s why they wanted you to approve it so badly.

“Shit,” you voice, to which Anakin nods. 

“Shit, indeed.” 

“Okay, how do you know all of this?” you ask, spinning the chair to face him. He smiles down at you cockily, and you almost want to laugh. 

“Well, my queen, if you must know, you’re looking at the best pilot in the entire galaxy,” Anakin says, bowing exaggeratedly when you giggle. 

“Is that so, Anakin Lars?” You tease. He holds a hand to his chest, affronted by the notion that he would lie about such a thing. “Well, then, come help me look over these papers,” you say, getting up from the chair to sit on the desk. Your legs dangle freely and you can’t help the overwhelming feeling of relief. Anakin talking to you again, and this whole mess of skycraft resolved? It’s a rare win, and it’s one that you’re going to relish as long as possible. 

You take the moment of peace to study Anakin, who’s poring over the agreement and leaving inky comments and scratches all over the paperwork. The bright sunlight streaming in from outside is softened by the wooden shelving of the room, bouncing and scattering and you’re reminded once again of how pretty Anakin is. His face is screwed in concentration, his tongue pressed against his teeth in a manner so endearing that you can’t help but smile. It’s nice to have a friend after so many years of loneliness. 

When he’s finished, he looks at you, beaming, and hands you the marked-up blueprint. 

“These modifications should actually help the defense sector,” Anakin confirms. 

“I’ll have to make sure I can submit the modifications without the Separatists realizing that I made the modifications,” you muse out loud. “We should create a new blueprint that seems to match this one, but actually reflects the modifications you made.” Anakin nods, rifling through the desk to produce a piece of paper identical to the blueprints and begins transcribing the design. You remain where you are, grabbing sheets of policy work and reading through it, occasionally plucking the pen from Anakin’s hand to use it for signatures. Anakin’s quick in realizing that he can help you with other work, and you share the work with him happily. 

“Y’know, Anakin,” you say as the two of you wrap up all of your work hours later, “It must get boring with nothing to do in the palace.” He nods in confirmation, stretching and sighing when his joints pop. “I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to join me for my work,” you say with a slight smile. Anakin’s analytical mind impressed you, and you enjoyed not feeling so lonely. Maybe that was just a lot of words to say that you like having him around. 

You walk out of the library with him, the two of you sharing a smile that feels like a secret. Right now feels like a bubble that you want to put in your pocket to be able to pull out whenever you’re feeling blue. 

It’s a far cry from a friendship but there’s respect and trust, and that makes you feel safe for the first time in a long time. 

~~~

Anakin wakes up while you’re still asleep. 

Last night was… nice. The two of you ate your dinner in the grand dining hall, making pleasant casual conversation until your plates were bare, and had then gone to bed rather unceremoniously. But you thought he was smart. It was an incredible feeling, to have earned your respect by virtue of his interest in flying. And Maker, you looked so impressed when he had done all that work with the Skyflippers. It was kind of addicting, the sight of your approving smile. He can’t wait to impress you more and watch your face light up in excitement. Anakin can’t remember the last time he had truly earned someone else’s approval like that— it usually came as a default response to knowing he’s the Chosen One. Anakin thinks he likes this a lot better. 

He knows he should wake you up for training, as it’s been at least a week, but he doesn’t want to right now— for now, he wants to enjoy the quiet. You’re facing him as you sleep, and he’s careful to watch you in case you wake up, but you’re fast asleep, the rise of your chest slow and exhales soft. But he keeps staring, anyway. Anakin’s transfixed by the glow of your skin in the early morning sun, the tranquility of your face, the curve of your nose, the shape of your lips. You’re like artwork, and promises that he’ll only look at you for a moment longer.

Your hand is splayed out between his body and yours, and it almost makes Anakin feel like you’re almost reaching out to him in your dreams. Slowly, carefully, Anakin reaches to you, laying his palm flat on the mattress next to yours. His fingers are curled, but if he straightened them by just a hair, he’d be touching your hand. The thought of it makes his heart race wildly, and Anakin feels genuinely confused. He doesn’t know why that thought makes his face warm, but it does, and with every passing second he just wants to do it more and more. But he’s torn— why does it feel like a betrayal to Padme? His heart belongs to Padme, he knows that. And this is just a friendly gesture. It means nothing, he’s just so starved for touch that the brush of his pinky against yours would satiate him. Anakin breathes in deeply, mustering all his courage before he straightens out his fingers and his body positively hums at the subtle contact. Every doubt in his mind goes silent, all of his thoughts giving way for him to keep his fingers extended just enough to feel your warmth just barely against his. His hand trembles at the effort, but he forces it to stay like that, letting his eyes close as he finally surrenders to you. 

Anakin doesn’t keep track of how long he stays like this, listening to the soft sound of your breathing before you begin to rouse. He hears you but doesn’t move, keeping his breaths measured so that he thinks you’re asleep. He feels you pause when you see your barely-connected hands and his pulse pounds loudly in anticipation— will you rip your hand away? Or will you just move it so that it’s still in his reach but not touching him?

You don’t do either of those things. Instead, you sit up and move the blankets off of your body with your other hand, maintaining the position of your hand. Anakin has to fight to keep the smile off of his face, still pretending to be asleep. Your fingers flex slightly towards his before you move away, presumably to get ready for the day. But that action, subtle as it may have been, exhilarates Anakin. And though he can’t quite figure out why, he allows himself to enjoy the feeling, stretching his arm to brush where you’ve left a warm imprint in the sheets. He’ll get up soon, but he allows himself this luxury. There’s a lingering guilt, something about his feelings for Padme, which forces him to sit up and wrench his hand away. You step out of the bathroom now, the very picture of elegance and grace and it makes him feel even worse when you murmur a polite good morning with a smile tugging at your lips. He thins his lips in response and nods, heart sinking to his stomach when your smile falls and you nod, saying nothing of his distant behavior. He hates himself for pushing you away but his commitment to Padme still eats at him, even if it’s a labor of hopeless devotion. 

He can’t just give up on Padme. She was the love of his life. It would be wrong to treat you in any way that would hint on some sort of reliance— emotionally, all he needs is Padme, but he doesn’t even have that now. He can’t treat you as some sort of stand-in for her; you’ll never be her, and you’re just a companion, anyway. But it’s too soon to think of all of that. He’s still so distraught over her and he can picture her in your place, smiling and leaning against the door with her hair cascading past her shoulders. Padme. His love. His light. He’s so lost in the memory of her that he misses you calling his name repeatedly, forcing you to come over and jolt his shoulder to force him to look at you. 

“Anakin.” Your greeting is colder than how things were yesterday but Anakin doesn’t blame you. It’s better off this way, anyways. “Will you be helping me today with the paperwork?” And though Anakin wants to be cautious of getting too close with you, he nods, too fulfilled by having some sort of task to do to shoot down the opportunity. You smile at him before you turn to leave the chambers, snapping your fingers when you remember something. “Oh, and one more thing, Anakin,” you say. “I’ve been advised by some of the palace staff that it would be a good idea to arrange some sort of public outing, to show our faces to the public and solidify our relationship. I’ve decided to combine that with an advertisement for Sandtek, and since you’re a pilot, I decided to make that outing one where you can fly their Skyflipper. So….” you drawl, watching his face for his reaction. “I guess I’ll see you at noon, then.”

“See you then, milady,” he nods. 

Well, so long for distancing himself. 

~~~

The ride to the field is short, and you keep the silence filled with some tunes on the radio. Anakin recognizes it as the Max Rebo band and is surprised to see how much you engage with the music, tapping your feet and humming the parts that you’re familiar with. He finds it endearing, even if he associates the Max Rebo Band with the Hutts. He tries to mimic your carefree enjoyment, watching you from the corner of his eye and trying to nod his head to the beat. He likes how fun you are, and laughs to himself when you start humming the chorus a beat earlier than it starts. 

“You ever heard of the Max Rebo band, Anakin?” You ask, stretching your back against the transporter wall. He has, even heard them live in the Hutt Palace when he was very very young and Gardulla the Hutt held his mother and himself as a slave. But that’s a bit of a mood-downer so he chooses not to divulge that little tidbit. 

“They’re the most popular band in the galaxy. How couldn’t I have heard it?” He says. 

“Oh, y’know. I just kind of assumed that the Jedi don’t do anything fun,” you tease, making him grin. 

“As if you know what fun is,” Anakin scoffs, eagerly anticipating your reaction. The banter between you is fun, friendly. The way it should be between the two of you. He tries to wipe the feelings from this morning from his mind as he watches your face light up in playful offense. 

“Excuse me? I’m way more fun than you!” You proclaim, jabbing your finger at him. He notes that the transport is at its destination so he hops up from the seat, offering his hand for your disembarkment. 

“We’ll see about that,” Anakin grins. The doors of the transport hiss open and you stand with Anakin, hand in hand as you face the eagerly awaiting crowd. For some reason, with all of the eyes on you two, the intimacy of your hand against his is lost, and he wonders if he had just imagined what he’d felt this morning. Amongst the crowd is a gaggle of reporters, videoing the two of you. He realizes it must be Sandtek publicity, using the Queen’s endorsement to convince more people to buy their products or recruit more workers. Either way, effective. 

Anakin’s excitement takes over entirely when he sees the modified skycraft— it’s been so long since he was able to fly, and he can’t wait to show off his skills to you. He pulls you through the crowd, smiling and waving at them before he’s at the ramp of the Skyflipper. His racing heart excites him, makes him bolder and brash, so he turns around to face the reporters and swoops you off of your feet, carrying you bridal style and placing a kiss to your cheek. His strength makes it easy to carry you, and it’s worth it to see the shocked delight on your face. Good for the publicity, right? That’s what he tells himself, but he’s not sure how much he actually believes that. 

“Anakin, put me down!” you giggle once the ramp’s up, and it’s just the two of you. Anakin quirks a brow before he lets go of you completely, using the Force to make you hover just an inch before you would hit the floor. 

“C’mon, princess, your romantic date awaits you!” Anakin hollers as he leaves you there. He’s plenty of fun, and by the end of this date you’ll know that too. 

He makes sure that you’re fully strapped in before he begins your ascent, the familiarity of flying makes him feel at home. Before long, you’re coasting through the clouds in a peaceful silence as Anakin concentrates. You’re humming a tune aimlessly, drumming your fingers on your seat as you watch Naboo fly past from inside the glass paneling. 

“Oh look, it’s a herd of Shaak!” You gasp suddenly, awwing at the gentle beasts as they graze on rolling hills of lush green grass. Anakin thinks of when he’d gone to a place just like this with Padme, the painful memory cutting through his throat and he speeds past the fields. You fly past hundreds of fields, roads and villages, and Anakin can sense the emotions rolling off of you as you survey your domain and the vastness of it all. Your people. 

“This is why I love flying so much,” Anakin says quietly. “All of your problems don’t seem so important.” 

“It all seems so far away,” you sigh, exhaling on the glass and drawing little patterns in it with a light finger. He takes a second to look back at you in the seat— happy, peaceful, and it’s because of him, because of what he’s showing you with his skills. Anakin feels that familiar glow within him, one that he tries to tamp down but can’t stop the smile that he allows himself at the thought of making you happy. 

“Are you all strapped in, milady?” He asks, turning forwards again. Anakin routes the craft back to where your original transport waits; he knows you’ve spent enough time in the skies with him, 

“What tricks have you got up your sleeve?” You ask suspiciously, followed by the telltale click of metal sliding into metal that cues Anakin to speed all the way up. You shriek when the resisting force pulls your body back, watching everything become a blur as Anakin tests just how fast the Skyflipper can go. 

“Maker, Anakin!” You shout, laughing. 

“Oh, I’m not quite done yet,” He responds before making the plane spin upside-down. He flies the Skyflipper in quick, tight circles, laughing at your delighted noises. 

“Okay, maybe you do know how to have fun,” You admit as the skycraft touches down, your clothes in disarray from Anakin’s wild flying. You straighten them out as best you can and smile up at Anakin when he offers you his arm, the two of you walking out together. 

“A successful date, then?” He asks you, bringing his arm around you and kissing your temple sweetly in front of everyone. “A successful date, indeed,” you smile.

[x-v4mp3y3lin3r-x]

your evil, unprogressive "minecraft smp" versus my beautiful, unforgettable AH skycraft

[natequarter]

Ok I'll bite. What are the edge chronicles about

do you want the long answer or the short answer? the longer answer is that the edge chronicles are a children's fantasy series set on essentially a giant (and i do mean giant) floating rock. said giant rock is known as the edge, and contains various different biomes, primarily riverrise (kinda an oasis), the deepwoods (a giant, mega dangerous forest), the nightwoods (hardcore deepwoods), the mire (a huge terrible white mud pit which is also incredibly dangerous and later flourishes into a sort of tropical marsh), the twilight woods (somehow even worse than all the hell places previously listed - it basically makes you immortal but amnesiac with almost no chance to escape, not to mention you still age), and the stone gardens (where floating rocks grow in stacks). there are also several major cities, first sanctaphrax and undertown and then great glade, hive, and riverrise. the aforementioned floating rocks are used to make ships float, which creates the leaguesmen who control undertown through trade, and, uh, slavery and murder, and the sky pirates, who are continually at odds with the leagues and also engage in trade, slavery, and murder. there's lots of fantasy species on the edge: about a million different types of goblins, and trolls, waifs, trogs, and so on... humans don't exist; fourthlings, essentially fantasy humans who are a combination of various races, take their place. the edge chronicles take place over various generations, focusing on twig verginix and later his descendants and ancestors. it also tracks the technological growth of the edge, from initially flight rock-powered ships and swords to buoyant wooden skycraft to phrax-powered ships and pistols. it does a lot of wacky fantasy things without ever using magic, and the character work is beautiful. there are so many fucking callbacks. it tackles complex themes like the commodification of water, capitalist greed, and the horrors of war. if a character appears in one saga, they are basically guaranteed to show up somewhere else - it's callbacks galore.

the short answer is that kids fight furry orange creatures which can eat bears in packs. also, dr. frankenstein accidentally reinvents satan.

[multifandom-fanfic-writer]

is anyone here interested in beta-ing a short ben/rowan skycraft-verse viva la dirt league smut fic? XD i might've wacthed "charisma overload" and well you can't expect me to not pick up what they're laying down

[platearmourpiglet]

Skycraft posters in the TechTown store!! :D

[smoqueen]

i want to play minecraft but i want to curate an insane experience with a bevy of mods and dont konw where to start because its all shit like SkyCraft and ModServerPlus

[nice-day-for-fishin-aint-it]

You know. I was watching the d&d game where Britt was an elf character in one of the first games and I can't help but wonder why she didn't play as Rithal who is an actual npc in skycraft like the others 🤔

[mrkoa28]

This is michael, a troll, hopes being a knigth or an pro-athlete, he has been passing it rough tho...

Secretly gay in christian family in the eigthies, a little bit traumatized by the dead of one of his mentor's dreamer (as all the rest of the party) he is a himbo, with a -5 spine and a very angry temperament, he does not have his real name yet....

His best art is primal with two level one treasures of dragons ire and skycraft.

He is half-mexican, and the oldest brother of 4, whith a very alpha male father that does not want his son to be a pussy.

I like him so much just because he is one of the greatest concept spins i have done, he is not really that chivalrous, he is kind and strong that goes to protect his friends when in need, kinda reckess to any physical confrontation, but he is extremely afraid of his own strengh and emotions, and being a changeling has strangely freed him and worried him even more, he has some conflicting feelings wanting to be changeling but struggling with the implication of his feelings of fear.

Apearence wise he is a green nature troll like those from celtic myth, being not really a great mean ugly giant but a nature force (having a powerful a giant body in the dreaming gives him more insecurities on his self control).

Some drawings made by his clurichaun friend a nerd named vincent

Context: he was triying to calm down this asshole named william (part of the party) while in crysallis but he got kinda angry so....he punched him, pretty hard, like many times, he feels awful.

This is sir benjamin, an asshole of a quimera with everyone except with the sidhe, michael has been pestering him for a year to be friends with no avail, this is a discussion they had like so many times, because benjamin hates real food since he cant eat it and michael does not understand that and tries to fees him a churro every now and then...

[asdaricus]

These magical flying gliders were created without the use of the blend function. These are the ones I liked the most. by Midjourney

[crazy-kemonos]

Kenji Attack

A hilarious attack from SkyCrafter on Art Fight! I just love how goofy it looks while also referencing Pizza Tower! Kenji is a pizza delivery boy afterall!

[stories-me]

Potential Character for Mrs. Kelsey and Tumblr 5/11/2023: 

 Greg the Garlic Farmer, Epic NPC Man: 

 Appearance: (See above). 

What he’s from: Epic NPC Man. 

Home: Honeywood, a town in the (fictional) land of Azerim from the (fictional) MMORPG “Skycraft”. 

Catchphrases: “Ah! Hello, Adventurer and welcome to the town of Honeywood!” “My sheep have run amok!” 

Background: 

Although an NPC in a video game, Greg appears to have more awareness of his world than some of the other characters. Sometimes, he is absolutely horrified by some of the actions of the players. 

He seems to have a… complex relationship with Bodger the Blacksmith, and sometimes feels annoyed with Baelin the Fisherman’s inability to say anything other than his line. He also sometimes considers High Sorcerer Baradun a jerk (due to Baradun occasionally popping into Honeywood and dragging adventurers onto the main quest, and referring to Honeywood as an “awful place”, among other reasons). 

Although he comes from a long line of garlic farmers, his grandfather was apparently an adventuring hero. 

How he is like me: 

Helpful and friendly, Greg just wants to help others (within the context of the game). He is also concerned about his community, and is a bit of a leader and doesn’t order others around. I also am helpful and friendly (a number of kids in Middle School went to me for help spelling words, and these days working to stay calm when frustrated), and I am a bit of a leader (posting stuff like this on Tumblr and working a little in Zoom). In addition, we both have to deal with us having trouble controlling our world. 

 Kelsey’s Notes: 

Non-player characters are sometimes in the background, or they can be in “escort quests”- they give quests or parts of a quest (example: the narrator in the new Jumanji movies) 

He kind of seems like a “negative nancy”- could this be caused by his lack of control within his environment?  He is saddened by the state of the world around him and the things that he is exposed to on a daily basis so he’s uncomfortable in the world he is forced to live in.  

It is easy to get caught up in the many freedoms that are given to us as adults, but sometimes there are boundaries/rules/restrictions for a reason.  Sometimes we must remember our morals when we put something out on the internet for someone to read.  

[walks-the-ages]

The author and illustrator duo behind the Edge Chronicles (Paul Stewart and Chris Riddell) also have................... a dragon rider series 👀👀👀

I am extremely excited by this, considering they managed to perfectly capture the dragon/rider bond....... with a wooden, inanime skycraft.

[covfeandtv]

From the Sky

A forager alone in the bush searches fallen trunks before movement in the sky catches their attention. As if made of clouds, the faint traces of a leviathan from the void emerge beyond the horizon like titanic ribbons caught in the wind, stretching far across the soft summer scape. Its fins catch the atmosphere and glow a bright white, and the forager grips tightly against a tree, astounded. The serpantine whips of the beast are fast and violent, and circling it like orbiting satelites are skycrafts which flash lights of different colours and tempos to one another.

Onboard one of these crafts, an enraged pilot barks at a subordinate behind him while he fixes his sights on the beast and puts his body into the joystick to will his machine in tight and sudden maneuvres, darting to avoid catching debris and embers cascading from the beasts igniting fins. Miles of scaled surface run beneath him in fantastic waves as the leviathan struggles to gain altitude away from the grasp of its captor's gravitational pull. The subordinate plays desparate inputs into their terminal, barely maintaining the ships stability against the growing disturbances of the planets atmosphere. Shudders and groans from its old hull and strained joinings muffle the shouts between its two operators. The pilot glances between the beast and the crafts of his comrades as they swarm ahead, and the familiar darkness of space and its stars is fading as the oppressive light of atmosphere invades the backdrop of the leviathan. His eyes are insulted by it, and in his furious state this drives him madder. Heatshields around his craft threaten to finally give up as he follows the beast into the blue, when suddenly a new onboard alarm cuts through the din of warning sirens that had become meaningless noise: an alert from the United Bureau. The pilot kicks in anger and curses violently, and in gritted teeth thinks for a moment before giving up, shouting in a loud growl as he lets go of the joystick and throws his head back into the scruffy padding of his seat, hands clasped to his face. Outside of his windscreen, the crafts of his comrades also slow to auto-piloted courses. His subordinate behind him recieves communications from the Bureau and confirms reciept of their order to desist and retreat. Defeated, they watch as the prize that they had followed for so many years plunges into the depths of atmosphere ahead of them, pushing glorious waves through its clouds in the beasts wake, knowing that the spoils will once again go to those who havent earned them.

In high orbit, peacekeeprs aboard a United Bureau carrier have been watching the leviathans descent, and communications operators have been working to determine the language of the nomads chasing it, while managing contact with an approaching caravan of industrial resource collectors. Eager to scatter the nomads before the collectors arrive in orbit to avoid any heated conflict from less co-operative members, the ships captain gives stern words to the chief, and to the relief of officers listening in, it seems the chief agrees to disperse. While the leviathan skims off the planets air in bright flashes of light, the swarm turns and rockets back into the void. Moments after, confirmation is recieved as the collectors slow into orbit. Deeds and credentials are shared and double-checked as a final handshake with Bureau officials, and aquaintancy between captains of the two forces are closed with formal goodbyes. Fleets of frigates and gunships escort a barge that dwarfs the Bureau peacekeeper, and the Bureau staff are given leave from their stations to watch the industrial fleet move in.

The forager watches in frightened awe. The elation of this legend materialising in the sky beyond the mountains is compounded with fear as its form bursts with great flashes of light, dragging the heavens behind it. Its movements fall dim, and the whips of its flight go soft and weak, and it falls beyond the distant horizon, the sky burning in a trail behind it, and when it disappears from view, and the sky returns to the soft blue, figures in the sky indescernable to the forager make a slow and certain descent, approaching the fallen god.