Sexy Steampunk Babes - Chapter Fifty Seven (Rejected/Non-Canon/Draft)

“They’re moving, ma’am,”  the Majesty’s Orb-Officer announced, her voice steady and professional. “The Eyeglass confirms it.”

“Finally,” Tyana exhaled, her relief mingling with anticipation as she straightened in her command chair. “Direction?”

“Straight for us.”

“Of course they are.” The elven woman’s tone held a trace of irritation, but her orders were sharp and precise. “Tell Eyeglass to maintain distance and report any changes in their heading or speed. Then prepare the home fleet for deployment. I want all crew at ready stations immediately.”

She leaned back into her chair, her gaze sweeping across the bustling bridge as it erupted into a hive of activity. Officers called out commands, runners darted between stations, and the rhythmic hum of machinery filled the air as aether shifted in different directions through the pipes – it was a symphony of controlled chaos. More to the point, Tyana knew this scene was playing out across the capital’s fleet, each ship coming alive with purpose as the Orb-Officer transmitted her commands to each ship in turn.

Satisfied for the moment, she turned her attention to the horizon, her eyes narrowing as if trying to pierce through the distant haze to the unseen enemy that lurked beyond.

The past two weeks had been a test of both patience and resolve for all of them. For Tyana, Princess of Lindholm and admiral of its mighty fleet, the wait had been nothing short of excruciating.

Pirate fleets weren’t unusual. Pirate fleets with accompanying airship elements were.

Not least of all because it meant they weren’t pirates. Not with twelve airships. No, this was just another ploy by either the Lunites or Solites.

The only question that came up when they noticed it was who said ploy was aimed at?

Which was why they’d waited, allowing the enemy to gather. Certainly, most of her command staff were of the opinion that the fleet’s eventual destination was Lindholm itself, but neither Tyana or her mother were eager to make that theory a self-fulfilling prophecy by striking first.

There was, after all, every chance that the fleet’s true target was either a Solite or Lunite city – and that it was simply gathering where it was to bypass either side’s usual coastal defenses. As for pretending to be pirates? Well, it would hardly be the first time either side of the old Empire had chosen to cloak their atrocities behind the actions of ‘rogue elements’.

The gassing of Halmeshare leaps to mind, she thought.

An act of horror supposedly performed by a band of outlaws who stumbled across an old imperial weapons lab. Never mind that said massacre neatly paved the way for a Solite advance into Northern Penbelle.

And now it seems it’s our turn to suffer the predations of ‘bandits’, she thought. Either as a prelude to an invasion or some other ploy.

Part of her now lamented not striking first, while the fleet was still gathering its waterborne elements, but it was a passing thing. Her and her mother’s logic was sound. Had the fleet actually been intended for a destination on the old continent, then the threat would be dealt with without having to expend resources they might well need in the future.

After all, isn’t that the peak of strategy? To eliminate the enemy without fighting? She thought.

She didn’t know where she’d heard the phrase before, some half forgotten Imperial text from her mother’s library no doubt - but it seemed fitting in this case.

Now though, Tyana intended to meet them in the open water and crush them before they even glimpsed the capital’s spires.

And yet, that was exactly what troubled her.

Twelve ships, she thought grimly.

It wasn’t a small number - not by any stretch. Yet it was still dwarfed by the number of ships she had on hand. Even with parts of the Royal Fleet engaged in routine patrols, the capital fleet outnumbered the enemy nearly three times. Their superiority in firepower was unquestionable. A decisive victory for Lindholm was all-but assured.

And the enemy had to know that.

Likewise, the water-based fleet accompanying the airships gnawed at her curiosity. Those ships weren’t built for direct combat in the skies. Their only conceivable purpose was as troop transports, though if this was an invasion force, it likewise was too small.

And again, with too small a screen of airships, the capital fleet would have ample time to crush its opposing flight capable vessels before turning around and sinking the water-based ships with impunity. After all, even if her own fleet would intercept the enemy half-way between their current location and here, that was still hours of sailing time.

Her jaw tightened as her thoughts churned. There was too much she didn’t know here.

“Inform the Royal vassals of the ongoing threat,” she ordered, her tone sharp. “Order them to prepare for deployment over the capital. They’ll form the strategic reserve.”

“Ma’am,” an officer asked hesitantly, “do you think we’ll need them?”

“No,” she replied, her voice cool. “Which is why I want them ready. Someone’s playing a game here, and I don’t like it. Should the other shoe drop, I intend to be prepared.”

The officer saluted and hurried off, leaving Tyana to her thoughts. They flitted, briefly, to one particular vassal.

Perhaps it would be worth speaking with him after this battle was won?

If nothing else, she was curious as to what he’d done with the Jellyfish. It would also be interesting to meet the man who once upon a time had been a candidate for her hand in marriage. Her mother had been quite enthusiastic about the topic given his ‘genius’.

Tyana’s own interest had been a great deal cooler. Oh, she’d been fascinated and overjoyed by the man’s innovations. ‘Kraken-Slayer-Powder’ was… otherworldly in its potential applications. Especially when combined with similar principles from the Spell-Bolt he’d created.

As the admiral of the fleet, Tyana was very interested in William Ashfield. Tyana the woman however, was ambivalent. As she always was when it came to the fairer sex. Oh, she liked a saucy lad as much as any naval woman, but her true consort was at the end of the day her career and fleet.

Marriage… just didn’t hold much appeal.

Which was why she’d been more than a little relieved when the topic of her upcoming nuptials suddenly disappeared entirely from conversation but a few months ago. With the same holding true for her sisters.

That, more than anything, had made her curious. Not enough to seek the man out herself, and risk the possibility of the topic of marriage reviving itself, but curious enough that she could… meet him coincidentally.

Under a different guise, that of a woman staking out a possibility asset to the fleet rather than a husband, she could admit to being very interested in meeting William Redwater.

“Radios operational?” she asked softly, though she already knew the answer.

The Radio-Officer stood to her right - a new and temporary role - responded with a crisp salute.

Though it felt stilted.

…Off.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Likely because the woman behind her was no true navy woman. The role of radio-officer, for now, was being filled by vetted palace staff, trained in absolute secrecy.

Eventually, once the system was fully unveiled, their duties would be absorbed into the Orb-Officer’s responsibilities. For now, however, their work remained a closely guarded secret. Looking over at the non-descript woman, Tyana allowed herself a moment of disdain. These women were undoubtedly part of her mother’s extensive intelligence network.

Spies, she thought with distaste. And I invited them onboard.

And it was entirely possible this woman wasn’t even of noble lineage. As effective as the Royal Guard were, their numbers were limited, necessitating her mother’s web of informants be made up of both ‘regular’ mages and even commoners.

“Do you intend to use the radios in the coming fight, ma’am?” the officer asked.

“No,” Tyana replied with perhaps a bit more briskness than was strictly necessary. “I’d prefer to save the unveiling of that capability for a real battle. Still, better to be prepared.”

The officer nodded silently and returned to her post with another salute.

“All stations reporting ready,” the Orb-Officer – an actual officer - called out. “Eyeglass reports enemy fleet maintains its course.”

Tyana nodded firmly. “Set heading for intercept. All fleet elements, full speed ahead.”

As the ship surged forward, and her orders rippled through the fleet like a wave, she tried to ignore the uneasy weight in her stomach. The nagging sense that something wasn’t quite right persisted.

But there was little else she could do now except keep her eyes open and her mind sharp.

It was all anyone could do.

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

"Don’t like this. Don’t like this one bit," Kanna, pirate queen of the southern shores, muttered miserably from her position on the forecastle, her sharp eyes fixed on the Lindholmian airship that had been trailing them for days now.

…The Lunites had made no attempts to chase it off either. Not that they’d succeed. Even from this distance, she could tell the picket ship wasn’t a scrapper. It was built for speed.

And spying.

Her second-in-command, ever the pragmatist, snorted. "So you keep telling me. And yet you still took the gold."

"Under duress," Kanna grumbled, her grip tightening on the railing.

It wasn’t as if she’d had much choice in the matter. Not after twelve airships dropped out of the clouds, their massive hulls bristling with weaponry and all too ready to sink anyone fool enough to run.

"Relax," the second-in-command scoffed. "Airships’ll focus on other airships. And while they’re busy with each other, we slip through the cracks, hit the capital, stir up as much shit as possible, and we’re gone. With all the loot we can carry and and a bunch of reward money in the hold to boot. Easy."

Kanna rolled her eyes. Easy was not how she’d describe things.

Still, the plan wasn’t bad per se.

In her limited experience, airship combat was an entirely different beast to true-blue naval combat. Mostly because it took place in the sky. Being able to fight in three dimensions changed things considerably. For one thing, formations could now overlap their fields of fire a lot more easily without worrying about another ship getting in the way.

Sure, firing up and down got a little more complicated, what with the need to tilt the ship, but that was what harnesses were for.

To that end, airships didn’t spread out the way sea fleets did. They didn’t form lines. They formed arrows. Giant floating arrows that were designed to punch through the center of the enemy formation before moving on to either side for a defeat in detail.

Or at least, that was the general idea. Kana was sure there were a lot more specifics and variations on the theme than that, but on those occasions in which she’d been speaking to women who happened to crew airships, she’d been less interested in their vocation and more the contents of their undergarments.

Point was, airships were at their most effective when grouped together. Like a clenched fist. Which theoretically meant the enemy admiral wouldn’t be splitting off ships to hunt down dozens of smaller water-based ships until the main threat from the Lunite airship fleet was dealt with.

And even if she did dispatch a few ships, they’d only be able to pick off one group at a time. The majority would be safe.

In theory.

Kanna didn’t much care for theory. She cared even less for the idea of being caught alone by an airship with no support around to hide behind. A few heavy rounds from above, and being the best sailor in the world wouldn’t save you.

She sighed, leaning on the railing.

Fucking airships.

"Got protection, too," her second added, gesturing skyward. "Lunites have us covered."

Kanna grimaced, her eyes narrowing at the low-hovering fleet above. The Lunite airships were maintaining a mere hundred meters of altitude above the water.

Which, again, made no sense.

Sure, outwardly, it looked like they were shielding the pirates’ wooden vessels from the incoming fleet, but that was a stupid move even by her reckoning. Altitude mattered in a fight. Ignoring cannons and shit, it was why a water-based ship was little more than a sitting duck to an airship.

It was easier to drop shit from on high than throw shit upwards. Likewise, it was easier to lob shit further when you were already high up.

In short, an airship wanted to be as high up as its aether chambers allowed for.

Yet that wasn’t what the Lunites were doing.

And they were still doing hours later when the Lindholmian fleet turned from indistinct flecks in the sky into looming behemoths of metal and aether. Shards buzzed around the larger ships like flies on cattle. And unlike the Lunites, they held the high ground - if such a term could be applied to the sky.

It would have actually been a little amusing if her own life wasn’t a stake in the fight to come, how the Lindholmian fleet seemed to hesitate at the sight of the Lunites hovering so low. It was a momentary thing, barely more than the time it took for them to rearrange their formation, but Kanna imagined she saw it all the same.

Then they dove – like a hawk onto a grounded pigeon – the fleet started to descend.

Not descending, they’re just closing the range, Kanna realized.

From this distance, Kanna could already predict where they’d stop - around three hundred meters up. Two hundred meters was the effective range for enchanted cannon fire against steel hulled craft after all.

In other words, the enemy fleet was descending just low enough to rain fire down on their foes with impunity.

Not that that was her main focus. No, that was on the six ships that broke off from the Lindhomian formation, descending faster than the others, they peeled away from the coming airship clash as they headed straight for the pirate fleet.

“Six!? You sent six!?” she cursed at the distant fleet. “Was your brother buggered by a pirate or something!?”

One or two would have been eminently survivable, but six ships would cut through the fifty sea-based vessels with ease. Even if they were spread out. There were hours of sailing ahead after all – and for every moment of it, those six would be picking ships off, one by one.

Cursing herself for a fool for being roped into this, she clenched her fists as the Lunites finally began to make their own move – by accelerating toward the heart of the Lindholmian formation.

Madness.

They’d be climbing from below, taking fire all the while from the bigger fleet, their return fire dulled by the power of gravity.  Kanna would eat her hat if more than one or two actually managed to clash with the formation in earnest. More to the point, Kanna could see the enemy repositioning already, adjusting their lines to counter the Lunites’ gambit by moving the heavier ships down.

Shards darted forward to clash between the two fleets, lines of tracers stitching across the skies while metal behemoths from both sides continued to advance on each other.

“What? What do you have planned?” Kanna muttered as she continued to watch, eyes occasionally flitting towards the other six ships.

She scanned the horizon for answers, searching for a sign, a clue as to the Lunites plans. Would it be magic? A weapon from the old empire? Did the Lunite fleet have mithril hulls under that paint? Did they happen to have a few tame dragons hiding in the clouds?

That was when the lookout’s voice cracked the tense silence. "Kraken!"

Of course, Kanna wanted to laugh. As if the situation wasn’t shitty enough already, a Kraken had decided to show up. She’d thought they’d all been scared off by the Lindholmian’s extermination campaign, but apparently they could resist the allure brought on by so many airships flying over water.

Yet, as she looked in the direction the woman in the crow’s nest was pointing, she found it wasn’t a kraken.

Not unless they’ve started developing metal hulls, she thought as she brought her eye-glass up.

It was a ship.

No, an airship, she realized.

It rose from the sea like some kind of angular steel whale, trailing water and seaweed as it did, its hull was encrusted with barnacles and light rust.

It was an absurd sight.

Made all the more so by the fact that it wasn’t alone.

“Two- No, seven. Twelve!” she hissed.

Twelve more airships followed, breaching from the water one by one, their hulking forms shimmering with aetheric light as they ascended into the sky – and Kanna’s breath caught in her throat as she realized their trajectory—straight toward the exposed underbelly of the Lindholmian fleet.

“That was why they were so low,” she mumbled numbly as the ships advanced as fast as their propellers and aether-ballasts could propel them. “To force the enemy to come low enough that they’d be caught off guard by… these things.”

She saw it. The shock on the part of the Lindholmian forces as the enemy force doubled - and they found themselves pincered between them. Already locked on the Lunites fleet that had been advancing towards them, they had no time to react as the second fleet advanced into the underside of their formation. Worse yet, said formation started to break as those captains closest to the newcomers tried to turn to face the new threat, throwing the whole fleet into disorder.

Now, it was the Lindholmians who were trapped – and their superior numbers were now entirely out of position to be used effectively. In fact, they were a detriment as the formation continued to collapse.

That was when the submersibles started launching their own shards.

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

Her tribe hollered as the Blood-Oath surged to the surface, water cascading off his barnacle-encrusted hull. Sunlight pierced through the magically reinforced windows of the bridge, flooding the space with warmth and clarity. The glass, a masterpiece of craftsmanship, was the result of days of work by skilled mages layering enchantments to withstand the crushing weight of the ocean’s depths.

When submerged, these windows were the only means of seeing outside, and even now, above the waves, they remained the sole vantage point. The rest of the ship was sealed tight, every hatch and port closed to keep the elements at bay.

For now.

"Make ready for air combat!" the captain bellowed into the ship’s internal comm system. The command echoed through the corridors, sparking a flurry of activity among the crew.

The ship’s transformation had been an arduous process, months of reinforcement both mundane and magical to make the vessel seaworthy. But while those modifications had allowed it to dive into the depths, they were less than ideal for aerial combat. Every gun port, every gap designed for weapons, had been fused shut, the metal molded seamlessly until no trace of a seam remained.

But what magic could seal, it could also unseal - and quickly.

All it took was a single thought: hole. The same arcane techniques used to shape metal were now used to create holes. Gun-holes. And unlike the precise work required to shape a cannon or blade, this task required no finesse, only raw intention.

Indeed, Saboteurs often used similar techniques to breach walls and bulkheads when boarding ships - though the method had limits. The larger or more complex the hole, the greater the drain on the user’s magical reserves. A breach larger than a few meters in diameter was almost unthinkable without a few minutes of uninterrupted thought.

Not something often found during a boarding action.

And not easily found here either, as their ship continued to climb up towards the hated invaders. Fortunately, a few dozen gunports were quite easy with the entire tribe’s spellcasters at work.

Metal fell away in sheets, revealing the madness of the outside world to those beyond the bridge. The battlefield was chaos. The invader’s fleet, once so disciplined, was now caught in a deadly pincer. As the Blood-Oath and her accompanying elven-crewed submersibles rose like specters behind them, the Lunite main fleet bore down from the front.

Ships peeled out of formation, some pivoting to face the new threat while others stubbornly maintained their original course. To an untrained eye, the scene might have looked sloppy, but that wasn’t strictly fair. Communication between vessels relied on enchanted orbs, which could only connect to one ship at a time. As a result, each captain was being forced to act independently, making judgment calls in the heat of battle, until they received their admiral’s new orders.

And for many, the submersible fleet was now the more immediate threat. Especially as the other vessels launched their shard complements.

The altimeter ticked upward. One hundred meters. Soon.

The captain listened for the confirmation that weapons were now fully ready. She could still hear, the soft tinkle of metal plating falling as the last of the gun ports unsealed themselves, revealing the ship’s hidden arsenal. Likewise, she heard and felt the first clangs of rounds slamming into the armored hull before exploding into fireballs or cascading webs of lightning.

The armor held though. For now.

“Cannons ready,” came the report from her second at last.

The crew moved with precision, their months of training coming to bear as they grew closer and closer to effective range.

Less than a minute now.

“Concentrate fire on the carrack to our left and the frigate to our right,” the captain ordered, her tone icy with resolve as the bridge crew set about relaying her orders. “Fire on my mark.”

For a moment, it seemed the entire world held its breath as they drew abreast of the first Lindholmian ships.

“Fire.”