[color=8493ca][h3][b]Post Captain Le Marinier[/b][/h3]
[b]Hopes small flame.[/b]
[I]Escape or Die.[/i]
[/color]


War came to the Capital, fires burned and the chaos had already come, the ordered city and quiet meals over a glass of wine and a good seafood were not the noises that filled the streets. Panic was very much the emotions of the city. Smoke came out black, the glow of oranges, yellows and reds. 

Hamelin looked from side to side to compensate for his long lost eye as a younger officer, he glanced about the corners, the alleys and the many back ways of the city that ran like an entire network of layers the city possessed upon layers. 

He caught one thing, one opportunity and found a route consulting the map he gathered about the city, an easy route and the best option that was viable. The main travel routes would be chaos, the transport was down, so he had to get… creative. 

Making his way there he felt not quite the same younger man who could have ran the whole way without pausing he used to be, youth was tempered by experience and cunning though and he made his way with care, minimising his challenges and threats he would have to face. He had to use his weapon but that using the over built and reinforced firearm as a melee weapon to dissuade a desperate man. The loud report of the .455 pattern resolver was hardly discreet. 

With this approach he made his way to his target though both without contact, one enemy soldier had a knife into his neck slacking off with a looted cigarette. Dragging him away he was disappointed in his gain, the rifle would be too much of an obvious thing, the bayonet was too long and his training did not cover the use of that option. To further disappointment his pack was mostly empty but took a short break, smoking a cigarette while he rested some minutes alway having availed himself with the remains of the soldiers canteen. The only real thing was to use a small hand drawn soldier's map that told him where they had set a checkpoint and a short cross study told him where to avoid. 

One more was evaded and a 3rd group was distracted by looting as they had pushed deeper, but became distracted by a ladies shop for silken things, likely looting it for lady friends back home, or maybe clean and quality material to tightly tie bandages close. Both likely. 

The Favain officer met thankfully little else resistance as he broke into part of the city he knew well, having been up near the main seat of government many times on official and social gatherings. He was under No illusions the soldiers invading would regard the international conventions, diplomatic status or his officer rank to help him at all. Probably means he died more than less. 

…

It was an hour later he finally bet his life or death. He had been survailing from an alleyway and a broken gate, he saw no obvious trap so he put his Revolver to his side in a ready but not hostile gesture and spoke clearly. The gates were not guarded, the people absent and the area was strewn with detritus of chaos, in the distance he could just about see destroyed and burning airframes twisted in far distances like a child's toy dropped. This was one of the few left able to fly. Those air frames were soon lost behind another drift of a thick choking black smoke and sounds of distant crump of heavy siege guns pounding strong points that remained standing. 

An airship marked with the number 27 on its side, intact at least externally, no major holes or blasted sections of steel turned to scrap. It would have to do. 

“Favian, Post Captain Le Marinier. Just looking for a way out of the city, assuming you can still fly. Permission to come aboard Airship 27. Last I saw the enemy was moving on the 7th lower circular mostly.” He called up carefully, it was a risk, he could be shot but he would be careful…. The place being so deserted and abandoned was….wrong. The air ship docks could be so busy with people and cargo you could barely swing a clownish. 

Either he was dead…or he was not. But right now, he had to try something. A slim chance was better than no chance.