“Well, Captain, a full month’s time in a large hanger with capable ground crews would be a start. .” He sounded wistful.
Alexandros smiled grimly and shook his head. “Can’t do; there’s a war on, or haven’t you heard?” he said, his tone more upbeat than it had been all day. “I know you’re doing the best you can, and I trust you to make this ship fly when she has to.”
The engineer nodded. “We’ll do our best, sir.”
Alexandros returned to the bridge to find his first officer clutching the all-call microphone. “Oh, there you are, Captain. I was just about to send for you. Ground control has sent a wireless message requesting we reduce altitude and prepare to load troops.”
Nodding, Alexandros read the message, hastily written in a curved but legible scrawl on the thin parchment paper that was the hallmark of wireless dispatch offices everywhere. “Set us in motion, Mr. Travins. Be sure to watch the shore side of those mountains. I don’t really know how strong the wind is at ground level, but it’s probably stronger than what we’re currently feeling.”
Engines pumping, the airship slowly descended toward the newly constructed airfield that graced one corner of the otherwise traditionally built Roman fort. The design hadn’t changed for centuries, and Alexandros was certain that even legionnaires from Roman Republic times could have found their way around this fort. They would just have wondered why such a large parade ground was built in one corner. Alexandros chuckled inwardly as the Scioparto closed in on the landing field.
A few moments later, hearing the faint shouts of crewmembers as they tossed lengths of rope out the windows to waiting ground crew below, he walked over to the observation bubble to keep an eye on the ground. Although he was confident in his first officer’s skills, it was always better to be safe than sorry, especially with the low afternoon sun blasting its way through the bridge windows.
A midshipman with a slider descended almost right on top of the observation window, cheekily waving to the captain as he dropped past. Leaning outward to follow the man’s trajectory, Alexandros watched the junior officer land gracefully and set about directing the ship with a pair of brightly dyed flags.
Hearing a polite cough from a man beside him, Alexandros realized that he was interfering with normal landing procedures. I’ve got to stop doing that; I’m preventing the crew from doing their job! Must be the exhaustion. As if the thought had summoned it, fatigue welled up within him, and he had to put his hand out to steady himself. He held himself there for a few more moments, until he heard the steadying boom and jolt of the ship meeting the ground and, confident that the ship had touched down safely, he gestured to his first officer. “I’m taking a rest in my cabin. Wake me if anything critically important comes up.” With that, Alexandros at last retired to his cabin.
The piercing clang of alarm bells woke him from a dead sleep. Reflexively shoving off his covers, Alexandros turned in his bunk and blinked at the clock. I’ve been asleep for nearly twelve hours! He was wiping the sleep from his eyes when someone pounded on his cabin door.
“Captain! You’re needed on the bridge immediately! Enemy airships closing fast!”
They would pick a dawn attack, Alexandros grumbled as he hurriedly pulled on his protective canvas captain’s jacket with the thin metal plates sewn into it. He grabbed his sword and scabbard and raced out the door.
In the hallway, he navigated around knots of legionnaires trying to be as unobtrusive as heavily armed and armored men can be. Many of them also appeared to have been abruptly awakened by the clanging alarms. Dodging around one such group, Alexandros came face to face with Tribune Appius. “Tribune Appius! I’m glad to have your men on board. We may need them if things get dicey,” he said, honestly glad to have some real soldiers on board-Not just my airmen, who don’t know one end of a sword from another.
The tribune smiled. “Anywhere you need my men to be? Or should we just stay out of your way as much as possible?”
Alexandros considered for a moment, then knew exactly where he needed help. “If you could send some men down to the artillery deck, they could use some strong arms and backs to help in winding our scorpions and ballista. If it comes down to a boarding action, we may need you to clear our decks or take the fight to them.”
Appius immediately started barking orders to his men. “Centurion Caesar! Take six squads outside to secure the ship against boarders. Durcius, take two squads down deck to help in the artillery gallery.”
The tribune turned back to the captain, but a voice from the loudspeaker cut him off: “Captain Alexandros to the bridge, Captain to the bridge immediately.”
Travins sounds worried, Alexandros noted. He’s never worried. This can’t be good.
“I’ll keep two squads in reserve to assist where needed,” Appius called after Alexandros, who was already moving.
“Just keep your ears open!” he called back as he ran for the bridge.
Pushing open the bridge door, Alexandros scanned the interior. His officers were huddled around the main controls, while deckhands raced this way and that, adjusting gauges and communicating with various stations around the ship.
“Captain on deck!” a rating cried and all movement paused as the men turned to salute their captain, fist to chest.
“As you were,” Alexandros replied. “Status update. What in the name of Jupiter is going on?”
“Sir, less than an hour ago, skimmers came back reporting that the Nortlanders’ main airbase at Ragunda was empty. Air-Admiral Polentio ordered double lookouts in every ship and sent all skimmers back out to try to find those missing ships. According to our latest reports, the Nortlanders may have as many as ten heavyweight ships of our caliber, but we don’t know how many they may have built or converted since we got this information.” Travins shuffled the thin pile of reports, seeking any additional information.
Alexandros grabbed his binoculars and scanned the horizon. “Where exactly am I looking?”
A deck lookout pointed to a series of small dots just on the horizon. “Right about ten o’clock to our fore, sir.”
The captain fiddled with the settings on his binoculars, zooming in on the small dots. He counted eight airships closing in on their fleet. “What’s the status of our fleet?”
“I believe we’ve got about twelve ships on station currently. We finished loading up the 13th Cohort of the XIII Germania late last night, and the other ships have taken up the rest of the legion-so we’re flying a bit heavy, but we’re also well prepared for any boarding actions.”
A small ring interrupted him. Incoming wireless message from the air-admiral, I hope, Alexandros thought as the door to the closet-like wireless room slid open and the operator emerged.
“Message to all airships from the air-admiral, sir.”
Alexandros took the thin sheet of parchment and unfolded it to read the hasty scrawl twice. “We’re to form up and orient ourselves on the flagship. Formation Beta.”
Nodding, Travins gave the specific orders to the pilots and crewmembers and the Scioparto moved toward her position in formation, to the left of the flagship. The smaller Scioparto was about half the size of the H.M.A.S Seguro, the Emperor-class airship swinging into the lead position. A diamond formation was slowing taking shape as the other airships moved into their assigned slots by class.
Alexandros watched the slow dance from the starboard observation windows as the airships gradually created a powerful wall of firepower. He could see the entirety of the formation from the Scioparto’s position on the leftmost “point” of the diamond. The skimmer carrier Vohar took its place in the center, within the protected confines of the diamond. It continued to launch the small scout ships and collect others.