the hydraulic manifold. We don’t have a chance of outrunning them.”
“Fine. Bring us into those clouds.” He directed him with a finger. “We’ll hide in there.”
The new helmsmen, Reeth and Weiden, exchanged pessimistic glances.
“Aye aye.”
Ranaloc, Cavada, and Pawl appeared from the hallway with Dez and Aroda – all brandishing pistols.
“Nobody move!” Ranaloc shouted bombastically, waving a gun in each hand. “I’ll shoot! ”
“Just what the mlec do you think you’re doing?!” one of the bluejack officers demanded. Ranaloc poked him in the chest with a pistol.
“Reclaiming stolen goods,” he said with a psychotic glint in his eye. Fulo and Gor’m took the officers’ weapons.
“This is treason,” said one of the bluejacks.
“Noted. Gentlemen, kindly escort these men to their rooms, please.”
“Wait a minute…” said an officer as Fulo, Gor’m, Dez and Aroda pushed them into the hall. He pointed at Mentrat’s pistol. “That gun’s not even cocked!”
“Nor is it loaded,” said Mentrat. “Take these, would you?” and he handed the empty pistols to Jaes.
“Nicely done!” cheered Semith, the new navigator.
Cavada set his eyes out the window and said, “Let’s get to that galleon before she sinks.”
Gilderam veered around in a tight circle, pointing itself at the crippled galleon. Four sloops were still circling it, offering strafing fire to the fleeing sailors. Slowing down overtop the Silus , a handful of pirates rappelled down onto the deck and engaged the airmen in hand-to-hand combat. They were armed to the teeth with pistols, swords and grenades. Terrified bluejacks fled into the ship, locking the doors behind them.
Two sloops diverted, heading toward Gilderam on an intercept path. When they could see no one on deck they just flew by, wondering what the pilot was thinking by heading into a war zone with no one manning the guns.
Neither side fired a shot.
But the sloops circled back, and dropped their rappelling ropes.
“This is First Officer Jaes,” echoed a voice from intercom tubes all throughout Gilderam . “All hands, listen up. We’re about to be boarded. Batten down all hatches and hole yourself up in a secure, defensible position. They’re not going to take prisoners, and neither will we.”
Levwit Balkenthron, watching the battle through a porthole in his cabin, perked up at the announcement.
“A boarding party?” he said to himself giddily. “ Really?! ”
The Marquis hopped to the floor and dragged a case out from under his bed. Opening it, he lifted out a magnificent firearm: a long, thin arquebus – expertly crafted of darkwood and bluesteel, ornamented with a fine silver mesh.
“It’s time to go hunting, pucith …” he said, caressing the weapon, and marched out of his room.
Chapter Nine:
Under the Red Flag
Owein tore down a hall inside the Silus , the big chains from his manacles clamoring as he went. So far, with only one exception, he had managed to avoid the sailors because the majority of them were at their battle stations, manning weaponry or operating essential ship systems. The rest were dead or hiding.
Distant explosions rocked the ship, tilting it suddenly to one side or the other. Every so often one would throw Owein off balance and into a bulkhead.
Another detonation, from the stern, sent a creaking shudder along the entire keel. Owein had to grab a handrail to keep from falling over. When it subsided he took off running again.
He found a circular set of stairs and bounded down them. After descending several decks, he was brought to a halt by the shouting of nearby sailors. Listening carefully, he determined the sound was coming from above, and so hurried the rest of the way down to the bottommost deck: the hold.
The winding, narrow halls of the upper levels were gone, replaced with broader, longer ones. There were no portholes here, only the flickering light of a few oil
“Fine. Bring us into those clouds.” He directed him with a finger. “We’ll hide in there.”
The new helmsmen, Reeth and Weiden, exchanged pessimistic glances.
“Aye aye.”
Ranaloc, Cavada, and Pawl appeared from the hallway with Dez and Aroda – all brandishing pistols.
“Nobody move!” Ranaloc shouted bombastically, waving a gun in each hand. “I’ll shoot! ”
“Just what the mlec do you think you’re doing?!” one of the bluejack officers demanded. Ranaloc poked him in the chest with a pistol.
“Reclaiming stolen goods,” he said with a psychotic glint in his eye. Fulo and Gor’m took the officers’ weapons.
“This is treason,” said one of the bluejacks.
“Noted. Gentlemen, kindly escort these men to their rooms, please.”
“Wait a minute…” said an officer as Fulo, Gor’m, Dez and Aroda pushed them into the hall. He pointed at Mentrat’s pistol. “That gun’s not even cocked!”
“Nor is it loaded,” said Mentrat. “Take these, would you?” and he handed the empty pistols to Jaes.
“Nicely done!” cheered Semith, the new navigator.
Cavada set his eyes out the window and said, “Let’s get to that galleon before she sinks.”
Gilderam veered around in a tight circle, pointing itself at the crippled galleon. Four sloops were still circling it, offering strafing fire to the fleeing sailors. Slowing down overtop the Silus , a handful of pirates rappelled down onto the deck and engaged the airmen in hand-to-hand combat. They were armed to the teeth with pistols, swords and grenades. Terrified bluejacks fled into the ship, locking the doors behind them.
Two sloops diverted, heading toward Gilderam on an intercept path. When they could see no one on deck they just flew by, wondering what the pilot was thinking by heading into a war zone with no one manning the guns.
Neither side fired a shot.
But the sloops circled back, and dropped their rappelling ropes.
“This is First Officer Jaes,” echoed a voice from intercom tubes all throughout Gilderam . “All hands, listen up. We’re about to be boarded. Batten down all hatches and hole yourself up in a secure, defensible position. They’re not going to take prisoners, and neither will we.”
Levwit Balkenthron, watching the battle through a porthole in his cabin, perked up at the announcement.
“A boarding party?” he said to himself giddily. “ Really?! ”
The Marquis hopped to the floor and dragged a case out from under his bed. Opening it, he lifted out a magnificent firearm: a long, thin arquebus – expertly crafted of darkwood and bluesteel, ornamented with a fine silver mesh.
“It’s time to go hunting, pucith …” he said, caressing the weapon, and marched out of his room.
Chapter Nine:
Under the Red Flag
Owein tore down a hall inside the Silus , the big chains from his manacles clamoring as he went. So far, with only one exception, he had managed to avoid the sailors because the majority of them were at their battle stations, manning weaponry or operating essential ship systems. The rest were dead or hiding.
Distant explosions rocked the ship, tilting it suddenly to one side or the other. Every so often one would throw Owein off balance and into a bulkhead.
Another detonation, from the stern, sent a creaking shudder along the entire keel. Owein had to grab a handrail to keep from falling over. When it subsided he took off running again.
He found a circular set of stairs and bounded down them. After descending several decks, he was brought to a halt by the shouting of nearby sailors. Listening carefully, he determined the sound was coming from above, and so hurried the rest of the way down to the bottommost deck: the hold.
The winding, narrow halls of the upper levels were gone, replaced with broader, longer ones. There were no portholes here, only the flickering light of a few oil
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