“The wireless transmitter is working?” Alexandros asked in surprise.
“Yes, sir! Cadet Fortes managed to jury-rig a connection point, so we were able to patch in to HQ. They want us to provide air cover for a convoy that should be passing to our southwest. Evidently, they’ve had a big problem with pirates,” he added.
Alexandros smiled and walked over to the speaking tube. This was his first time ordering his ship to battle stations. Hopefully, we don’t break something else this time. Like the engine.
“All hands to stations, level two. Man all observation points and be on the lookout for a wet navy convoy.” Alexandros chuckled at how the water and air navies could be classified as wet and dry. Perhaps salty and breezy would be better?
Minutes went by as the cadets searched for the convoy. The sunlight reflected off the sparkling waters of the ocean, blinding the cadets and forcing them to work in shifts to keep from permanently damaging their vision. They were forced to make do without the benefit of spyglasses or binoculars, as they had been… misplaced… before their departure.
Misplaced my non-traitorous behind. I’m getting the feeling that someone really doesn’t want this mission to be successful. Sounds of screeching and thumping came from below.
Oh gods, not the engine. Please not the engine. Some deity must have heard, as the sounds subsided. The door to the engine room flew open, and a thick plume of black smoke emerged, followed by Cadet Tuderis. The man was covered in black soot. Only his eyes remained free of grime, protected by the pair of engineer’s goggles he wore.
“By the gods, Captain, I swear I’ll have to rebuild that engine by the time this voyage is done,” Tuderis yelled across the deck, his frustration at the engine obvious.
“We make do with what we have, Cadet Engineer, and I know you’ll get us there and back in one piece.”
“One charred piece, maybe. You won’t be able to go at full speed sir, the engine is acting up again,” Tuderis informed him.
Alexandros cursed, then gave reluctant orders to slow to half speed. The engine noise subsided further, and Tuderis, smiling gratefully, gave a sloppy salute before descending into the depths of the engine room again.
Can something please go right on this trip? Please? he prayed.
Finally, a call came up from the starboard bow.
“Captain! Fleet in sight! Three points to starboard!”
“Excellent! Helmsman, plot a course…” He did a brief calculation, then hesitated before ordering the move. He walked over to the navigation station inside in the small wheelhouse and checked their current estimated position, then estimated the location of the fleet. “Plot a course to the west-northwest. And let’s drop down to just 500 feet. I want to try and communicate with the convoy lead.”
The airship descended, moving in to follow the convoy as it left white trails across the pearly blue-gray expanse. There were eight ships in the convoy, large vessels with paddlewheels, chugging along. Seven of the vessels appeared to be cargo haulers, large and tub-like. Probably impossible to handle during storms, he thought.
The last vessel was very different. It looked like a long wedge of metal with two protected paddlewheel mounts in the rear. The vessel rode lower in the water than the cargo haulers, but was more predatory in appearance. From above, the warship’s ram was visible just below the ocean’s surface, sunlight glinting off the metal projection. A circular, slope-sided structure with portholes for artillery pieces was built aft of that, followed by the funnels and command room, and then the bulkier portion of the ship that housed the two armored paddlewheels.
What an ungainly construct, Alexandros mused as he motioned for his signals operator to join him. The airship had descended now to the point that they could see people walking about on the warship’s gantries and walkways.
“Have they responded to our wireless message yet?” he queried First Officer Ionia. The first officer passed the message down to the wireless room, then shook his head at the reply.
“Sir, there’s someone on deck signaling us,” the signalman reported in. “It appears they do not have wireless capability.”
Alexandros cursed. “Naturally, the navy’s oldest ships have the oldest technology.” He sighed. “Very well, Signalman, please inform them that we are here to help escort them to Cydonia on Creta.”
The signalman saluted before pulling out his communication flags and beginning the complicated dance of sending a message to the naval warship.
In the meantime, Alexandros ordered his crew back to their regular duty schedule.
The rest of the day progressed as normal. As did the day after that. For days on end, the airship shadowed the convoy, the routine droning on and on. Alexandros tried not to allow his men to become accustomed to this. He ran drills and did inspections, had his men switch positions to improve their knowledge and training. To their credit, Alexandros was impressed at how the men responded to his constant coaching. Their response time improved, and their navigation and repair skills grew with each passing day. Even with the multitude of small repairs that the airship seemed to require, she stayed aloft and mobile, which was about all Alexandros could ask. In concert with the warship, the HMS Lorica, they even arranged for target practice, shooting barrels in the water from high above.
It happened in the early morning on their twelfth day of the escort tour.
“Sir, the Lorica reports that it has lost sight of the Fila Maria. They are requesting we investigate.”
Alexandros’s sleep-addled brain leapt at the opportunity to do something.
“Inform the Lorica that we will be leaving station and sweeping rearwards,” he called out.
The airship’s control room began to buzz with increased activity as fresh crewmen manned posts, and a steady stream of reports came in. The pitch of the engine grew sharper as the large propeller blade spun faster, the rudder pushing the ship to starboard. The ship turned, providing a new view to the crew as they doubled back on their search route.
“She must have gone missing during the night,” Alexandros mused as he scanned the horizon with his spyglass. “It’s only about an hour after dawn.”
Even now, the fresh crew were stifling yawns at their posts. The bright morning sun left shadows on the deck as the ship turned, blinding the observers and causing Alexandros to squint.
A moment passed, and the airship was back on the correct heading.
“Sir,” his first officer called to him. Alexandros turned and walked over to the man as he stood at the navigation desk. “I was looking back along our track to see where we might have lost the ship. According to the night watch, there were no storms or bad weather along our passage.” Ionia briefly read a note handed to him by an aide before handing it to the cadet captain.
“Last confirmed sighting of the Fila Maria is just after midnight. Were the night crews sleeping on duty? How could they lose a ship? There should be eight points of light on the water. When there are only seven, it is a problem!” Alexandros stated sardonically. Unfortunately, I’m not surprised, given the men aboard.
“Nevertheless, sir, I noticed that there were a lot of small islands dotting back along our path. The Peloponnese peninsula is famous for them.” His finger traced along the sheer multitude of small islands and inlets that peppered the waters of the Mare Mediterrane.
Alexandros growled at the map. “Pirates.”
Ionia nodded. “Or shipwreck. Smugglers. Rebels.”
Alexandros concurred, “But probably pirates.”
Ionia sighed. “Why do I feel like it is always pirates? Why can it never be a simple shipwreck?”