**Jasmine's Log, Supplemental**
**The Cove, Eastern Coast of Albion**
**Rothgard Fall plus 26 days (estimated)**
**38 hours 35 minutes to Black Fleet Landfall**
Wings of steel descend.
The earth receives the first.
Sanctuary takes shape.
Four and a half hours had slipped away since they left Shire Base, yet the cove still felt suspended in that fragile pocket between day and night. The reinforced clearing now stretched nearly a hundred meters across, its surface a sturdy lattice of compacted soil and interwoven branches pressed firm by the compactor's repeated passes. The air had cooled, carrying the sharp bite of salt and the resinous tang of freshly cut pine. Gentle waves continued their patient rhythm against the shore, but the once-wild meadow edge had been transformed into an orderly expanse ready to receive its first heavy guests.
Jasmine stood beside Verdant at the southern treeline, one hand resting on the dragon's warm scales as she watched the sky. The great beast's golden eyes were fixed on the same horizon, his wings half-furled in quiet vigilance. Stonefang stood a few paces away, his silvered fur blending with the dusk, ears forward and nostrils flaring as he tested the breeze. The wolfkin scout had not spoken much since the engineers began their work, but his posture had relaxed into the watchful stillness of a hunter who had accepted new allies.
Then the sound came—a deep, resonant thrum that rolled across the cove like distant thunder. Jasmine's breath caught as the first CHS-130 Condor Heavy Shuttle lumbered into view, its massive frame a moving shadow against the fading orange sky. The dark coating and matte paint rendered it nearly invisible until the powerful landing lights stabbed downward, carving bright cones through the gathering dusk and outlining the craft's bulk. It circled once, the pilot's voice calm and steady over the shared comm channel.
"Express One to Ghost Actual. We have visuals of the prepared site. Commencing final approach. All stations, stand by for touchdown."
The Condor descended in a wide, deliberate arc, its four powerful fusion-torch hybrid engines shifting to vertical thrust with a rising whine that drowned out the waves. Dust and loose sand swirled outward in concentric rings as the massive craft settled toward the reinforced clearing. Jasmine felt the ground tremble beneath her boots, a deep vibration that traveled up through her legs and into her chest. The heat wash rolled over them in a brief, dry gust, carrying the faint metallic scent of superheated alloy. The shuttle settled heavily into the reinforced earth with a low, satisfied groan of hydraulics, the branch-and-soil lattice holding firm without the slightest shift.
For a long moment, the cove seemed to hold its breath.
Then the rear cargo doors—the great maw of the beast—began to open with a mechanical hiss and a series of heavy clunks. The ramp lowered slowly, revealing the brightly lit interior where more engineers and support personnel were already moving with practiced efficiency. Crates of modular pier sections and heavy metal grates were rolled out on powered dollies, their wheels humming over the ramp's textured surface.
The Delta Force Ghost Team, still in full tactical gear, formed a protective perimeter while the engineers went straight to work. One crew immediately began laying modular pier sections along the water's edge, interlocking the heavy steel box beams to create a temporary port that would extend thirty meters into the shallows, ready to receive the Rothguard ships arriving in about seven hours. Another team dragged heavy metal grates into place over the softer transition zones, bolting them down to the reinforced soil lattice to prevent any shifting under repeated heavy landings.
The sound of power tools and shouted coordinates filled the air, yet the work remained orderly and precise—no wasted motion, no raised voices beyond what was necessary.
Marines moved in behind them, setting up triage areas with practiced speed. Bright orange medical tents were unfolded and anchored against the evening breeze, their interiors already being stocked with portable diagnostic stations and supply crates. Other Marines worked in pairs to erect portable floodlights around the perimeter and landing zone, the tall poles snapping into place with crisp metallic clicks. Harsh white beams sliced through the deepening twilight, bathing the entire site in steady, brilliant illumination that pushed back the shadows and turned the cove into a beacon of controlled activity. One medic glanced up from his work and called across to his partner in an easy, professional tone, "Red zone right here, twenty meters from the ramp. Yellow to the left, green staging further back near the tree line. Keep the paths clear for the next bird—we don't want anyone tripping over gear when the wounded start coming in."
Jasmine watched it all with a mixture of awe and quiet gratitude that tightened her throat. The speed and coordination were breathtaking—these people had turned an untouched cove into a functioning reception point in mere hours. She glanced at Stonefang, who stood a little straighter now, his gaze moving between the landing shuttle and the tree line with renewed respect.
"They move like a well-honed hunting pack," the wolfkin murmured, voice low enough for only her to hear. "Each knows his role. No hesitation. The green will remember this day."
Jasmine nodded, her fingers tightening gently on Verdant's scales. "They do. And they do it for strangers who ask for help. That is a rare thing in any world."
The first CHS-130's cargo ramp was now fully lowered, and the engineers were already guiding the next wave of equipment into position. In seven hours, the sky would fill with more of these great birds, each one carrying the exhausted, frightened survivors of Rothgard. For the first time since the fall of her homeland, Jasmine allowed herself to believe they might actually make it.
The dragon from the east was coming.
But here, in this quiet cove, a sanctuary was taking shape.
The green watched from the ridge.
The strangers prepared.
Two worlds were building together.