Prelude to Anarchy - Princess of Steam

Crash

Daisy knew, in the pit of her stomach, that they were going to die. She was light. Lighter than she had ever been before as her feet were pulled away from the falling floor and the unnerving sense that she was floating inside the cramped corridor made her insides twist about.

She spun then, abandoning the radio. From her vantage at the forward observation room, she could hardly tell what was happening around her, but she was wise enough to know that this was the end. Still, some last vestige of an instinct to survive told her to run, to get out of the lowest point onboard the ship and head for higher ground.

She obeyed the instinct.

Pulling herself into the corridor, Daisy had found Bastion hanging halfway out of a small room set along the side. His private quarters here in the lower ship. He looked at her with wide, fear filled eyes. "Get higher," she screamed, then let go of the walls to point at the ladder behind him.

The Crusader's fall seemed unending. Seconds moved by like hours and she felt as though they would be in free fall for days.

Bastion climbed up the rungs, pushed open the hatch, and disappeared into the room above. It was an accessway to the upper parts of the cargo hold. Below, were the engines and her room, here, on this level, was the observation deck and lower hold, above was the tangled mess of girders reaching to the second gondola and a small living quarter and the spartan kitchens. She had to get higher.

The thought was banished as the floor reached up and rammed her.

Darkness filled her mind.

Warmth, both liquid and flowing, tickled at her cheek.

Stabs of dull, throbbing pain echoed out from everywhere along her body.

Then she woke up, bleary eyed, confused, dazed and in pain, but alive.

Daisy climbed to her knees and touched her forehead, then brought her hand before her face. She had been bleeding, and a lot, to judge by all the blood welling up on the ground around her, but she was alive, if dizzy and sore. She pushed herself up onto her feet, wobbled, thumped into a wall with her shoulder, then stood without help.

The memories of what had just happened were still vivid, still as clear as though she was still in the nightmare. Her duty called. She had to fix whatever damage the Crusader had lived through. And she had to find Katherine and Elizabeth and Bastion. She shook her head. Katherine was flying in her little plane. Katherine would be fine, for now.

So, she had to find Bastion and Elizabeth. That was her priority for now. Then fix the Crusader. Swallowing hard, she looked around the corridor for the first time since she had woken up and started to notice the damage.

The observation room was gone. Simply a wreck of torn metal, ripped parts and a doorway that lead to nowhere. She saw dirt and light pouring in through cracks of the ceiling. The floor of the corridor was tilted forwards and off to the side, a fact that did little to help her dizziness.

The lights were out, but plenty was pouring in from outside to light beams of dust through the air. She sniffed, detecting whiffs of gas, oil, burning tarp and upturned dirt. And blood. She smelled like blood.

Daisy tried to keep her stomach steady, but soon failed. She took a few halting steps, and lost her breakfast in a corner. Moments passed, and so did the episode.

She had to get out of here, she realized. Turning, she found her way to the ladder Bastion had disappeared through and climbed. The slant given to the ladder confused her some more, but Daisy made it to the next floor in time to hear a deep, guttural moan coming from somewhere ahead.

She looked around once she was in the kitchen, and found a crumpled lump in on corner. It was Bastion, awake and conscious, though obviously in pain. Both hands were wrapped around his left leg and he was moaning while tears threatened to overwhelm him.

"Bastion," she said with a sigh while landing on her knees beside him. He looked up to her, recognition flashing in his eyes.

"Daisy? What happened?"

She shrugged, though the gesture hurt her ribs and back and sides. "I think we crashed. No, we did crash. But we're alright. How's your leg?" she asked, reaching out to touch it. He pushed her hand away, not fiercely, but with insistence.

"It think it's broken," he said.

She stood up onto wobbly feet. "I'll go get the first aid kit," she said, somehow knowing that a few bandages wouldn't help a broken leg. But she had to get away, and she couldn't bear to do nothing while looking at all that blood. Bastion was in better shape than her, other than his leg which even now was bent at an odd angle.

Daisy found the ladder that would reach up to the space between balloons and the gondola above, and braced herself, not only against the soreness that made every movement send searing pain through her sides, but against what she might see.

She moved up, pushed the hatch open, and stared.

The Crusader was gone.