Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Sixty One

“Initial reports from squadron leader Inirka of second wave; Two airships struck in initial volley. Damage significant. Fires onboard. Both may be considered combat ineffective. Two shards lost. One chute confirmed. One unconfirmed. Taking over overwatch duties from wave one. Squadron leader Tern confirms her intent to return for refuel and rearmament - with one local element craft,” one of the Jellyfish’s radio operators dutifully relayed. “Current heading parallel to Jellyfish. Will reorientate for return once clear of city limits.”

Good, William thought as Captain Nornhell acknowledged the report.

Things were going well. Or at least, a given value of it. With that latest report, he was officially down one quarter of his forty strong shard complement. Meanwhile, the enemy shard presence had been reduced to just two craft who were in the process of being harried to their deaths as of the last report.

A win by any stretch.

His corsairs had traded quite well, given the sheer disparity in experience between his pilots and theirs – as well as the somewhat rushed nature of this whole deployment.

He’d certainly not planned for his pilots first experience with the new Corsair-C to be in a live combat environment, but here they were. He had no doubt that would be of little comfort to those families who would soon be having their daughters returned to them in boxes, but he’d long since made peace with that reality when he was five years old.

No, this was a success in otherwise less than ideal conditions.

“Please be sure to congratulate Squadron Leader Tern on her success and remind her of the importance of the ‘local element’s’ safety on the return flight,” he said quietly to the woman next to him.

His heart had leapt into his throat when he’d gotten word of a craft bearing remarkable similarities to the Basilisk circling the city. Fortunately, while the Corsair-C had little need of them, the squadron leader’s craft were all equipped with signaling flags.

To that end, it hadn’t taken long for a short ‘dialogue’ to take place between the two craft – one that had the Basilisk folded into the formation of the now returning Corsair-Cs.

Said woman gave him a quick salute before walking over to the captain’s command throne to relay his orders. Which admittedly seemed a little silly, given that she was all of five feet away.

Alas, given the Jellyfish was currently in a combat environment, it wouldn’t do for the lord to be constantly pestering the captain with orders while she was attempting to direct the ship. Hence the need for a go-between.

A role that had until recently been filled by Olzenya, but the young woman had temporarily been removed from said duty while she… processed their most recent discussion. Glancing back, he could see the trio of young women still whispering heatedly amongst themselves.

“My apologies,” he said quietly as he rejoined them in their corner of the bridge. “You were in the process of saying something before we were interrupted.”

“Mostly that I fucking knew it,” Olzenya said smugly. “I knew there was no way you could constantly be pulling new shit out of your ass without being harrowed.”

Well, that was a better reaction than he’d expected really.

“Really?” He chuckled. “Aren’t you… you know, worried? About my mental state? My future plans?”

The high elf scoffed. “You say that like it would be something new? I already thought you were nuttier than squirrel shit. This at least gives me a concrete reason as to why.”

“Indeed, it does go some ways to explaining your more peculiar behaviors,” Marline said slowly – as if she hadn’t already known that he was harrowed. “If anything, the thing I’m more curious about is why you’re not… well, insane.”

He opened his mouth, only for the dark elf to cut him off. “You’re not, at least to my eyes, insane. Nor even Olzenya’s really. You’re eccentric and dramatic to be sure, but you aren’t as a harrowed person should be.”

Olzenya looked like she wanted to argue that point, before ultimately sighing. “She’s not wrong. Admittedly, I’ve never seen a harrowed person, but you don’t match the descriptions for them. Not properly at least.”

Glancing past the elves, William caught the eye of the thus far silent Verity. Seeing his expression, the orc just shrugged. “I… I can’t say I ever suspected anything like Olzenya and Marline say they did. Though to be honest, I don’t really see the big deal. You’ve got magic knowledge in your head.”

Despite himself, William nearly laughed at that, even as Marline and Olzenya cringed. He supposed it made sense. All three of them, being noble-born, had grown up with the dangers of harrowing being constantly drilled into their heads. Verity, by contrast, would likely have only gotten similar warnings in passing once she entered the academy.

She’d not have grown up with the specter of some aunt, uncle or cousin who’d attempted to gain knowledge from the Fae and ended up harrowed leaning over her.

“Well, let’s just say that I’m something of an exception to the rule in a few ways. Not as many as I’d quite like, but as you can see, I’m not entirely insane,” he laughed.

“Quite,” Marline said dryly. “Though, as much as I’d like to ask about why that is, I’m more curious as to why you chose to tell us now.”

“Because people outside our group are going to start accusing me of it now,” he said. “The other things I created, I could hide behind the work of others. The only things people know for a fact that I designed and created were the spell-bolt and the flashbang. The Kraken Slayer was something the Crown supposedly created, and I unknowingly contributed to. The Gramophone was something I worked to keep the origins of as mysterious as possible.”

He shrugged. “This though? Artificial cores? Aether-less bolt-bows? Aether-less javelins? Explosives that don’t require enchanting or alchemy to achieve? At least, not alchemy as anyone knows it.”

He glanced back, to make sure none of the crew were close enough to be listening in. “Nah, I’d say that by tomorrow morning the cat will be entirely out of the bag on just how I keep on pulling this shit off, and there’ll be people who’ll use my status as an excuse to see me locked away.”

There existed legal precedent for those undergoing the effects of harrowing to be institutionalized. For those that were nobles, that typically meant their lands were to be passed onto their nearest relative – or heir. For the moment, given his lack of a spouse or heir, that meant his territory would end up going straight back to the crown.

Which would be pretty ideal for Yelena. She’d get access to all the facilities he’d built, his experienced workforce, and she’d have him under lock and key so they could plumb his mind at will.

Basically, the same situation as she would have had if he’d agreed to marry one of her daughters, but with less steps and even more convenience.

She’d do it too, if she could get away with it. For the longest time, the only thing keeping her from simply locking him away to get access to the secrets of the Kraken Slayer had been the threat of the Blackstones being given access to those same secrets as part of his failsafe if he ever went missing.

For access to artificial mithril-cores though? And whatever else she could get out of me from an interrogation chair? She’d make that trade in a heartbeat, he thought.

Which was why he’d kept this all a secret for so long. Until the moment in which he revealed his true capabilities could coincide with him gaining enough notoriety that he couldn’t simply be cast aside.

Originally, he’d planned for that moment to be roughly around the same time he married the twins and secured the Summerfield duchy for them. As a ducal consort, he’d have been all-but untouchable. More to the point, provided the twins weren’t too horrified by the revelation of his harrowed nature, he’d have also had access to an entire duchy’s worth of industry to pull from.

Ah, but for the plans of mice and men, he thought.

Still, this situation wasn’t entirely terrible. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t unworkable. So long as he actually managed to save the capital from this attack, there was no way Yelena would be able to use his harrowed nature as an excuse to censor him.

For him to save the day – mad or not – and then have his assets seized by the crown? That would wreak of blatant opportunism on the part of a government that would likely need the people’s trust more than ever.

Sure, some nobles would likely still argue for him to be locked away anyway, but William couldn’t see Yelena going through with it. Not with a civil war on the horizon and a decent chunk of her vassal fleet now burning merrily in and over her capital city.

No, she’d work with him.

Harrowed or not.

Still, this was the moment for plugging up any gaps in his defense.

“To that end,” he continued. “In the days to come, people who’ll want to see me… removed will likely approach you. They’ll be asking for insights into my character. For you to speak out against my stability.”

Even as he spoke, he knew he’d soon be having to have a similar conversation with the twins. One he would have much preferred to have after he’d just secured a duchy for them.

As it was, his plan was simply to march down to the hangar and give them a heroic and very sane welcome.

Hell, he wouldn’t even chastise them for their part in tonight’s insanity.

No matter how much he wanted to.

…Hopefully they might also have some idea as to where Griffith is, he thought anxiously.

When they’d spoken over orb, the principal hadn’t been sure of the woman’s location. Hell, she didn’t even know if the dark elven instructor had been part of the initial doom flight up against the enemy fleet or was part of ongoing defense on the ground.

William was praying for the latter. Even if he didn’t have much time to dwell on it.

“I swore an oath to aid you for aiding my family and I meant it,” Marline said resolutely, before she shrugged. “Besides, you already knew I suspected you were… different. As far as I’m concerned, a confirmation like this changes nothing. I know I speak for my family in that too.”

Despite himself, William felt his smile grow as the dark elf spoke – even if he’d sort of already known that was going to be her answer.

It was… nice to have it confirmed though.

“You gave my family a home,” Verity spoke next, tone as firm as he’d ever heard her, before turning bashful as his gaze turned toward her “I mean, to be honest, the harrowed thing doesn’t really bother me. Mostly because I don’t really get why it’s a big deal. You’ve got void knowledge, right? And that usually makes people nutty, but you seem fine! Well, more or less.”

William’s grin grew as he regarded the orc. “My thanks, Verity, for that ringing endorsement.”

The orc flushed and looked away. Which only made him grin more. Not least of all because he already knew Bonnlyn’s answer too. While she was currently out with the bombing team, he knew that if she were here, she’d be talking about how she’d be missing out on the profits from the Gramophone if he got locked up.

Of course, that left him with the one person though who’s support wasn’t guaranteed.

Indeed, as he looked over, Olzenya looked a little conflicted. Sure, he’d offered her the position of captain for the Jellyfish and a plot of land in his territory, but his soon to be opponents would be able to offer a lot more.

And Olzenya had always been a climber; socially, politically and personally.

Seeing that he was watching her now, along with the rest of the team, the elf seemed to come to a decision though as she sighed.

“Well, you already know that I think you’re nuttier than squirrel shit - but no one beyond our team will ever hear that from me.”

Willaim felt a part of his soul he almost hadn’t known existed seem to unclench itself as the blonde continued.

“Not least of all because that would mean I wouldn’t be able to captain the ship that saved the capital. Way I see it, in a month, whoever holds that posting will have to beat the boys off with a stick.” She chuckled. “Plus, I've already picked out a spot of land I liked on that rocky dirt heap you call a territory. I’d hate to have to go through the hassle of doing that again somewhere else.”

She laughed at those words, clearly intending them as a joke, but William was having none of it as he stared at her. “Thank you, Olzenya. Your support, well, it means a lot.”

“Ah, not so fast.” The elf grinned. “I still have one condition. I figure I’m owed that much if it means supporting your insane ass in whatever madness you have planned for the future.”

William swallowed – though he could hardly begrudge the young woman wanting to make the best of the situation. He’d literally just thought that she was a climber…

“I get it,” she continued, seeing his silence as consent – even as she ignored the glares of her other teammates. “I get why you felt the need to hide stuff. From us. From the world. No idea how long you’ve been walking around with all that void shit in your head, but I’m willing to bet you’ve had it since before we met.”

He nodded slowly, not entirely sure where she was going with this.

“Well, no more,” she said with finality. “We’re a team. That means you include us. Your plans. Goals. Secrets. Everything. If I’m in this with you, I want to know that you’re in this with me.”

George hesitated.

William didn’t.

“I… I can do that,” he said slowly, ignoring the dryness in his mouth. “I… no, there’ll definitely be stumbling blocks. But I can try.”

Olzenya huffed, crossing her arms and looking away. “S’all I ask.”

Grinning, Verity looked like she was about to speak, when her eyes widened as she glanced over his shoulder. Turning to see the cause, William found himself face to face with the bridge officer who was acting as his go-between with the captain.

The crewwoman shifted uncomfortably. “Report from Inirka, milord. In response to our attack, it seems the enemy chose to shift an airship into a protective stance above the rest of the fleet.”

William nodded, unsurprised. He hadn’t expected them to retreat.

The adversary likely believed they could achieve their objective before his corsairs returned - or perhaps they doubted his ability to repeat the feat he’d just performed. After all, by local reckoning, his fleet had just unleashed a devastating barrage of enchanted ordnance of a scale capable of essentially depleting the reserves of a smaller noble house.

Personally, he was leaning towards the former. Not that it mattered. Even if they attempted to flee now, the returning corsair wave would be able to catch up in time to hunt them down.

Still, it was unfortunate they hadn’t chosen to flee.

With the airships gone and with the opposing shards too entangled in their losing battle with his own, the Academy’s shards could have finally launched without fear of being shredded on take off.

Well, once the enemy commandos have been cleared out of the hangars and off the runway, he thought.

If they could do that though… Well, an entire Academy’s worth of fighters would let him tear apart the larger fleet threatening the palace in half the time.

“Yes? And?” he prompted, his tone clipped.

The crewwoman hesitated, her voice faltering for the first time. “The – uh - enemy vessel that was moving into defensive formation, sir... they’re deploying troops onto the airships they’re shielding via parachute.”

William froze. “What?”

----------------

Okol loved this feeling. Gliding through the air, her target looming ever larger before her as the wind whistled past her ears.

It was a sensation like no other – and what brought to an end far too soon as she flared the aether-thrusters in her boots and palms. The expulsion of blue-green gas served to just barely slow her descent, such that when she hit the deck of the opposing craft, she still needed to roll to disperse some of her momentum.

Which was fine – that was the plan.

“What the hell do you greenskins think you’re-”

Whatever else the slaver standing on deck had been about to say was cut off as Okol’s flung axe embedded itself in her chest. The orc didn’t wait for the body to finish falling before she brought her bolt-bow up with one hand to spray down the collection of humans manning the nearest pivot-gun.

Mercenaries, brought on this excursion to further muddy the waters in regards to the fleet’s origins. They died all the same.

Around her, other orcish mages were touching down on the Lunite craft, with similar results as they slaughtered the other two elven sailors standing on deck before turning their weapons on the humans. Not one managed to turn their aether-powered pivot guns in the direction of the orcs before they went down.

And with that, the deck was theirs.

Glancing up, Okol could see the parachutes of the Blood Oath’s non-mage complement of warriors slowly start to drift down towards the deck.

She didn’t wait for them as she sprinted toward the nearest doorway into the interior of the craft.

Speed was the name of the game here. The faster they moved, the less chance the enemy had to realize they were under attack. And a surprised enemy was much more easily slain than a prepared one. As exemplified by the sailors on deck.

“What’s going on-”

Okol’s slice sent intestines flying across the deck as she reached the pair of guards manning a bulkhead door. To the second mercenary’s credit, they recognized the folly of trying to draw against an enemy so close and instead sought to tackle the orc before she could bring her axe back around. Unfortunately, they failed to recognize the threat of the greenskin’s elbow as it slammed unerringly into the woman’s face. Blinded and stumbling back from the blow, the woman didn’t see the blow that killed her as Okol brought her axe down in the same location she’d just elbowed.

Pulling the axe back, she made ready to advance – to perform her bloody work against the sailors that would be beyond the doorway – only to pause.

Chains.

That was what she saw first, and she cursed herself for it as she noticed the color of the people in those chains.

Pink. Brown. Yellow.

No green.

Humans. Again.

But unlike the armored ones she’d just slain, these were clad in little more than rags as they stared fearfully at her. Those closest were straining against the chains that had shackled them to their posts as they sought to use the aether-cannon they’d just been manning as an impromptu shield.

Slaves hadn’t been unexpected. Given the clandestine nature of this trip, it had been mentioned in the slavers briefing that the gunnery crews would be comprised of slaves who could be… silenced once the mission was completed.

The crew of the Blood-Oath had simply assumed those slaves would be orcs.

And some were, she now noticed. One or two. Near the back.

But most were human. Or dwarven.

Maybe.

It was possible they were just short. Okol had never had much need to be able to tell the difference.

This… complicated things. The plan had been to take the slaves North with them. As new sisters for the cause.

“You,” she said, pointing her axe at the nearest one. “Why are you chained up!? The Lunite Khanate does not allow for human slaves.”

The young woman who she’d pointed at, widened her eyes, before speaking slowly. “We aren’t slaves. We’re prisoners. Or we were. Ship got taken by Lunite pirates months back. Then a few weeks ago we all got loaded onto these ships. Told we’d get to go free if we just-”

Whatever else the woman was about to say as another chained gunner shrieked.

That warning saved Okol’s life, as she dove to the side just in time to avoid an incoming lightning bolt. The crew of a cannon behind her was not so lucky as the blast fried all of five of them – their chains acting to conduct the lethal power of the spell through all their bodies.

The nearest crews flinched back, now torn between hiding from the orc boarder and the elven overseer who’d just emerged from another bulkhead.

For her part, Okol started to chant her own spell from behind a wooden pillar, but mentally cursed as she glanced out and saw her new foe’s lips were also already moving. She’d likely started chanting the moment her first spell had finished – which meant she’d be a second faster than Okol’s own.

Even as the orc started to bring up her bolt-bow to either kill the elf or throw off her aim, she knew she was about to be a second too slow.

And she doubted her foe would miss twice. This pillar would merely provide a bit of extra shrapnel for when the woman’s bolt hit it.

Which was why the orc’s eyes widened almost as much as the elf’s when the knife-ear was stabbed in the stomach by… one of those stick things cannon crews used to push in the cannon balls.

The blow didn’t look particularly hard, coming in at a slightly odd angle for the young woman holding the implement, but it was enough to throw off the elf’s chant for just a second.

And that was all Okol needed as she both finished chanting and aimed her bolt-bow.

In moments, the slaver was pierced through the chest not just by a shard of ice the size of her leg, but also two bolts. She dropped, likely dead before she hit the ground.

And Okol was left standing there, breathing heavily as she realized just how close she’d come to death by allowing herself to be distracted by the… ship’s unexpected crew complement.

For a moment, her eyes flitted to the human – a girl more than a woman – who’d just saved her life. And for her part, the brunette looked about as surprised as Okol felt. Whether for acting as she had or that she’d lived to survive it, Okol didn’t know.

Grudgingly, the orc nodded at the surprised human – though she didn’t wait to see if it was returned.

Instead, she reached down to grab the keys from the dead elf’s belt, before tossing them to the nearest group of humans.

“Unlock yourselves but… stay back and down. Others from my tribe will follow behind me and you don’t want them to think you’re…”

She didn’t know what to say.

Human?

Not slaves?

Part of the crew?

“...Enemies.” she finally settled on.

That done, she didn’t look back as she walked over to the ladder the elf had climbed up and started clambering down. She had a ship to clear. The question of what would happen to the humans, could come later.