He reached down and pulled a lever. “All hands, we are nowat battle stations. Chiefs, inform your divisions and arm all weaponry. Aim forthe gas bag-let’s try to take her down in one swoop.” Gods, please don’t letthose fat bugs be double hulled. We might not survive that encounter.
The Scioparto had been running at full speed eversince she had received the distress call from Brittenburg. Alexandros hadthought quickly, dispatching several messengers to the command center in casethe saboteurs had friends. In fact, upon receiving the report, Legate GeneralMinnicus himself had questioned the wireless operator who had failed to pass onthe increasingly desperate messages from the city. The man was soon turned overto the intelligence division for further interrogation after inconsistenciesdeveloped in his story-such as wireless equipment that worked perfectly, oncehe was removed.
The general had instantly realized that they needed a way toreinforce the city fast. His decision to put the 125 untested men of the 13thCohort at the vanguard was both controversial and risky, but it was the onlychance he had of getting any soldiers to the city in time to be helpful. Sowhile the rest of the legion formed up to be loaded onto a requisitionedexpress steamtrain, the 13th boarded the Scioparto in full combat rig,prepared to drop into an urban war zone, the most dangerous type imaginable.Which had already had Captain Alexandros sweating.
Now, he gripped the armrests of his captain’s chair andstared down at the airship looming ahead of them. Moments after coming withinengagement range, he had already revised his opinion of the capabilities of theusually sluggish cargo flyers. His suspicion that they were, in fact, NortlandKarlock-class raiders was confirmed the second he saw the first bombsdropped from the large, boxish gondola amidships. They look like the newerclass, so they are probably double hulled. We’re going to have to take them outthe old-fashioned way.
“Get us nice and close. I want to eliminate his ability torespond before he realizes he’s lost it,” he told the helmsman. The veteranairman gripped the copper and wooden helm tightly, moving the Sciopartoslowly, slowly closer, directly from behind.
“Move to his port side; I want us screened from their friendcloser to the bay,” Alexandros ordered. The bridge fell silent as thecrewmembers around him gazed out the observation windows with anticipation,like him, no doubt praying that their opponents were too busy wreaking havoc onthe undefended city below to notice the smaller Scioparto sliding upnext to them. With no defensive fire from the city ramparts whose defensetowers burned like torches around a ring, Alexandros heard the hum of theengines, the shuffle of crewmembers passing out in the hallway, and littleelse.
“We’re in optimal firing range, sir,” the weapons officer onthe starboard side reported.
This close, Alexandros could see the painted designs andcleverly disguised artillery ports. Several were open, but the launchers wereaimed downward; occasionally, explosive-tipped bolts flew down onto thebuildings below.
“Captain, markings indicate she is the airship Thorolf.Definitely a warship,” the watch officer called.
“Very well, she is a combatant, then. All starboardbatteries, fire at will!” Alexandros ordered.
The weapons officer twisted a dial and a green light flashedalong the starboard weapons galleries. “Fire!” cried the artillery deckofficers. Repeater scorpion launchers and heavier, single-shot ballistae threweverything they had at the unsuspecting Nortlander vessel. The repeaterlaunchers aimed for the gasbag and glass-enclosed bridge, their five foot-long,steel-tipped darts shattering the glass to pierce those crewing the raider anddestroy equipment. Glass shards flew everywhere, incapacitating many of thedeck officers and killing others. Another artillery crew got a lucky shot rightinto the weapons gallery facing them, destroying weaponry and severing severalsteam conduits.
Alexandros’s well-trained crew maintained an intense volumeof fire, rapidly emptying boxes of ammunition that were quickly replenishedfrom the centralized arsenal. Each package of bolts contained ten shots, whicha crew could use inside of two minutes. Occasionally, a scorpion threw a boltor required a spring replacement-such heavy use in a short period of timestrained them immensely.
Complementing the faster-firing scorpion launchers were theexplosive throwing ballistae. The gun crews took more care and time here, as adropped shell could mean an explosion inside their own ship. The loader wincheddown the U-shaped holder and nestled the black powder-filled iron egg intoplace. The gunner then carefully selected his target, allowing for gravity andwind, found the trigger with both hands, and fired.
One of these iron balls careened across the space betweenthe two ships and hit right next to a crew compartment. The impact shook theenemy ship as the explosion tore a jagged hole between two decks.
A few launchers returned fire from the beleaguered Nortlandship. It was sporadic, but it kept the crew of the Scioparto on their toes.“Brace for upshot!” Alexandros shouted, and the warning to the airmen below tofind a handhold was relayed, even as the ship abruptly lifted upward as the Sciopartodumped ballast, gaining about a hundred feet on its floundering opponent.Alexandros smiled. The artillery crews on both decks could now hit the exposedtopside of the raider. The crews again went to work, quickly eliminating thesmall topside ballistae positions and shredding the thick canvas of the gasbag.
The ship was in major trouble now, and the artillery firefrom Scioparto paused as the ship below them rapidly lost altitude. Evenwith a double hull, the gasbag was punctured in too many places for the airshipto stay aloft. The dying ship descended toward the central plaza, eventuallycrashing through apartment complexes and sliding along a major thoroughfare,spilling men, steel, iron, and other airship components everywhere. Parts ofthe ship crashed through a mob of people in front of the gates of thegovernor’s mansion.
The crew’s cheers filtered into the bridge as the officerscongratulated Captain Alexandros.
“Excellent work, sir. You really pulled a fast one on them!”
“They never saw it coming!”
Alexandros allowed a tight-lipped smile as their enthusiasmbubbled over. Then, “Simmer down now, gentlemen; we’ve only won half thebattle,” he reminded them, and they returned to their seats.
“Sir, bottom-side lookouts report the mob is trying to enterthe governor’s mansion,” an officer reported. “It appears to be held byguardsmen, but they are having a rough time of it. If we shift course toheading seven two point four eight, we can support them with our lower deckweaponry.”
Alexandros thought for a moment. “Let’s be even more bold.Bring us about right over that main structure down there. It’s open enough forus to drop the 13th, and we can support the loyalist forces. Pass the word forthe 13th to drop, full combat rig. Topside lookouts are to keep an eye on thatsecond ship. I don’t want it to even look our way without us knowing about it.”
Men jumped to their jobs. The bulk of the ship turned andassumed position over the mansion.
A messenger moved through the crowded hallways, the cargoholds and crew rooms, looking for Centurion Vibius. The men he passed weresilent, struggling to deal with nerves and stress. Most could only shake theirhead when he queried the centurion’s whereabouts.
“He gathered his squad leaders and took them to his bunkroomto plan the combat drop,” one of the legionnaires finally told him.
When the messenger found the room where the centurion wassupposed to be, he stopped, aghast. The compartment had been hit by one of thelast desperate shots from the Thorolf. The cabin was a chaos of bloodand shattered glass. Two crewmen were quickly hammering plywood sheets over alarge hole where half the outer wall had been. Six figures lay on the deck.Someone had found small laurel branches to place on the bodies. A medico fromthe ship’s Infirmary was quickly checking the lone survivor standing on the farside of the room.