Final Charge
"Seal the deck! Prepare for departure!"
The order was carried through immediately. Sergeant Riddley braced himself behind one of the ships cannons. Private Linsdale took the same position, and together they pushed the cannon into firing position. The black powder was loaded and ready to use and the new explosive cannonballs loaded. The whole time he dreamed of the new shell based cannons some of the ships were equipped with. However, this war was dragging on and those cannons were expensive.
Couldn't afford them when the army needed Airships.
Six bright new airships lined their new fleet. Catamarans. They were sand-sailed in to the front lines so the enemy wouldn't see them approach. Their balloons were now being inflated as they prepared for their landing. They were reinforced for the three damaged vessels that made it out of the last air battle. The Prushian forces made a hard push, shelling their batteries on their side and calling out the air force for aerial combat. Although both sides fought heavily, it was the Antifordians that achieved air superiority.
Now they had no choice. While the air was theirs, they needed to have one final push.
It was time, now, and their artillery batteries opened fire. Slinging shells and cannonballs into the air, disappearing into the morning fog across the canyon. They managed to get two volleys shot off before the sound of the landings reached their ears. The artillery continued to fire as the soldiers made their way onto the Airship deck.
The were dressed in their crisp, brown uniforms. Perfect for desert combat, the uniforms were designed to cool the body and lighten the soldier. Antifordian Soldiers could fight longer and move quicker then their armored enemies, but they were bullet sponges if caught off guard. They held shiny new lever action rifles. Their packs were full and looked slightly bulky.
Riddley shook his head. So this landing was a series one. They intended to take the canyon once and for all this time. Which wasn't good for them. Usually this means Airships would be sacrificed for the good of the fight.
The order was given and the balloon was full. The Catamaran Airship began to ride into the night. Nerves were high as the ship ascended above the canyon. A whistle blew from another airship, and the engines were turned on high. Into the fog, The Airships began their journey across canyon.
One volley of anti-Airship fire rang out from the Antifordian line. They passed the Airships and slung out into the fog. Their explosions lit up the fog. Not a single enemy Airship or observation balloon. The engines were turned up and they continued through the fog. The Antiford Artillery stopped, and for a brief second the battlefield was quiet.
Until a series of small whistles could be heard. Suddenly the airship to their right burst into flame. The balloon caught on fire and the burning hull dropped right out of the sky. Its flames could be seen for some time as it dropped into the abyss. More explosions burst in the air all around them. The Prushians were using anti aircraft rockets!
The Captain turned the Airship hard. The Prushian Cliff line was coming into view. They were going to make a broadside while the rest of the ships blazed ahead. The order was given, and Riddley tensed. The whistle blew, and Riddley raised the ignition fire to the wick. All at once little sparks lit up the side of the boat as the cannons were lit. Riddley aimed the cannon and then stepped back. One by one the cannons fired, raining hell down on the Prushian lines.
Reinforced
Jackson was pressed against the ground. Nicholiasan crawled on his stomach towards him, rolling into the same crater he was in.
"You dead, Jacky-Boy?" said Nicholiasan.
"I ain't dead," said Jackson, "Not yet. What are you doing?"
"Waiting," said Nicholiasan, "The bombardment stopped. Any second now the Airships will be coming."
"They won't make it," said Jackson, "Not this time. Look."
In the distance, through the smoke and fog, Nicholiasan spotted movement. A line of shadows in the distance. His ears picked up clanking of armor and the distance shouts in a gruff language. Prushian Soldiers.
Nicholiasan never understood why they wore armor. It was hot out here. The rail roads were torn up by the war. Most of these troops were marched in. And they wore hot, heavy armored plating, like savages. The Antiford military dropped armor years ago in favor of lighter, cooler uniforms. Firearms and artillery tended to make them obsolete. However, this war proved otherwise. While every bullet was a death sentence to Antifordian Soldiers, the armor of the Prush actually deflected some smaller arms fire and sometimes a Prushian charge would seem invincible to the common Rifleman.
And now, these Prushian soldiers were moving forward, trying to regroup awaiting the next assault. Another attempt to hold the canyon. For four hours the Antiford Artillery hammered this side of the canyon. It had caused a retreat of Prushian soldiers. The whole time Nicholiasan hid. He avoided the onslaught of artillery as he had hid from the Prush for a solid four days. Ever since they were stranded on this side of the canyon. They waited for the retaliation. They waited to help the Antifordian counter attack.
And now it was coming. Engines could be heard in the distance. The Airships were coming.
"Here they come, Jackson," said Nicholiasan, still eyeing the Prushians, "I'm out of bullets. I took some shots at them when we were first stranded. Got an officer and a spotter."
"I'm down to one," said Jackson, "One ruddy shot. I'd kept it clean and ready to fire, just in case."
"Good, a bayonet charge doesn't seem like the ideal way to handle this," said Nicholiasan.
He could see some of the soldiers, now. They couldn't come fully to their destroyed battlements. They began to regroup just behind where their lines were. He spotted that some of the troops weren't in full armor. Some only had chest pieces, some only wore arm armor. It looked like they were ragged. Only the officer was in full regalia. His armor looked menacing as he parked orders to his men.
The engines were now humming over the battlefield. The Airships were coming. A hiss rang out. The anti aircraft rockets were being fired into the fog. Nicholiasan shook his head.
"We let those rockets continue, we're dead," he said, "No reinforcements means we're stuck over here."
"We charge those lines we're dead," said Jackson.
"You got some 'oil' on you?" asked Nicholiasan.
Jackson reached into his satchel and pulled out a fragile looking clay canteen. This device was full of whale oil and capped with a small torch end. When tossed, it would break and the torch end would light the oil. This was used to disable Gatling gun emplacements and artillery. In the distance, an artillery piece was being wheeled through the mud. Behind, they were wheeling black powder and ammunition up. Nicholiasan already had it in his head.
"I'm gonna take out that cannon, Jacky-Boy," said Nicholiasan, "And you are coming with me."
"Are you mad?"
"Possibly," said Nicholiasan, "I'm taking this, and I'm getting that cart. I want you to come with me and cover. Head for that blown entrenchment, there. If this all goes Goblin on us we can wait it out there. As soon as those Airships are in range, though, that Cannon's opening up on them. We must do this!"
"You're crazy!" said Jackson, but he had already picked up his rifle and began to check it.
Nicholiasan lit the torch end, and the fire lit up. He wasted no time. The hum was getting louder, and the explosions from the rockets were filling the sky with color. Nicholiasan was on his feet and running towards the enemy.
Shouts and exclamations from the Prushians filled his ears. He wasn't in range yet. The officer was still ordering and pointing into the sky as some of the soldiers noticed the man running. The flame from the oil bomb lit him up in the fog.
The rifles opened up. A barrage flew passed him. He kept running. The rubble of the emplacement was getting closer. Almost there.
The officer noticed him running. He began to shout and point. Now the entire Prushian line was now aware of him. And they were reloading for another barrage. He was still running, they must've missed.
He reeled back and tossed it. Like a streaking star in the night sky the oil bomb streaked through the fog. It flew into the sky and arched right over the lines. A shot rang out behind Nicholiasan. The Prushian Officer jerked back, falling to the ground. The volley held. The fire started to pitch downward and fall behind the lines. It looked like it was on mark for the ammunition wagon. He was going to hit it.
Jackson ran passed Nicholiasan. He dived into the protection of the rubble just as the volley rang out. Nicholiasan felt his chest get hit. All the air was knocked right out of his chest. He fell to his knees, scuffing his knees on the ground. He felt cold.
He never heard it, but the Prushian line lit up, bright as day. A fire stretched along the line and up into the fog. Nicholiasan didn't get a good look as he fell on his back. In the fog, the light of the Prushian lines lit up through the Fog. The outline of an Airship could be seen, beginning to descend. Flashes of light shot out of it.
And the edges of Nicholiasan's vision began to turn black, and he closed his eyes.
Dilemma
The balloon had landed and the runner leapt from the basket. Running passed the ground crews and the dock hands, he jumped passed the artillery embankments and right towards the officer's tent. The artillery crew were packing up. Even some cannons were being moved to the loading points.
Running into the tent, the runner snapped to attention and awaited to be recognized. General Sunsue stood by his war chart. Small figured chiseled from sandstone and mica sat on his map of the Prodigious region. He stared intently at them. Colonel Poupon turned and approached the runner. The runner saluted, a piece of paper in his extended hand. The Colonel snapped it out of his hand. Without returning the salute the Colonel opened the paper and gave it a read.
Without saying a word, he began to move the figures on the map. The Boat figures were moved forward. From the center of the canyon to the Prushian shore. Two boat figures were removed entirely from the board. Prush figurines made from scraps of metal and other garbage were removed and pushed back, one by one. Antifordian troops represented by pogs and other pieces were added to the map, one by one. Soon the map was completely different. Pieces covered the map and were moved as the Colonel checked and rechecked the paper to make it work. Sunsue's eyes were filled with light at the sight.
"General Sunsue," said the Colonel, only a hint of his Monte Diomont heritage in his voice, "It appears we are ahead of projections in the flanks as well as Goblin and Steam company. Two Airships didn't make it. Despite the loss, Their objectives were taken. Our line is thinner then expected but with so many ahead of schedule and the line holding strongly it appears the operation is a complete success."
"Reinforce with haste," Sunsue commanded, "The lines were to hold at their objectives. We must reinforce with haste. They'll need guns."
"There's no enemy artillery, sir. No counter attack. No observation balloons." reported the Colonel, "You there, is this right?"
"Eye, sir," said the runner, "I spotted nothing through the fog, but the messages were clear. Got them twice. They signaled no counter attacks. They were taking no fire."
"The bastards are retreating," said Colonel Arthur, "Sir, we're broken them. By the Gods, we've broken them. Hussah!"
"His majesty will be pleased," said Colonel Poupon, a smile spreading across his face.
"I want artillery, I want calvary, I even want those Landships," said General Sansue, "We will take this opportunity. This war will swiftly end."
Just then a messenger burst through the tent flaps. He was panting. He waved his hands, drawing the attention of the room.
"Urgent news, sirs," he yelled, "Urgent news."
"Hold your tongue!" Demanded General Sansue, "We must seize the day. Signal the Airships, set the bridge cannons. Let's get as much troops over-"
"General, please," said the messenger, still breathing heavily.
"Place him under arrest," said General Sansue, "We shall deal with him later."
"General, it's urgent."
"Gods, man, you just don't get it," said Colonel Arthur.
"Last night, Optilocus had a revolution!"
The tent went silent. The guards stopped moving, and the officers stood deathly still.
"The House of Engineers, lead by the Technocratic Salvation Front, seized control last night. His Majesty the king... is dead."
The silence continued. Only the messengers heavy breathing remained.
"Today, the rest of the royal family was executed publicly. The House of Nobles are disbanded. The House of Engineers is calling for us to cease fire on the Prushian troops and return to Optilocus for orders."
"What orders?" started Arthur.
"Unsure, sir," said the messenger, "The Technocratic Salvation Front only states-"
"Shove the bloody TSF!" Poupon spat, "Who's left? Whose orders are we to follow."
"There's... no one left," said the messenger, "I was dispatched by the Captain of the guard. His orders were simple: The Technocratic-"
"Bloody Coward," spat Poupon. His fists slamming down in the table.
"Messenger, are you familiar with the rumors going around about the happenings back home?" asked General Sunsue.
"I... picked up a few things."
"Runner, dismissed. Any non essential personnel, leave us. Get our line secures across the canyon. When we are secured and hold, chase the retreating troops. Let's see how far inland we can go. Do not lose that canyon."
A shuffle proceeded as men moved about the tent, leaving and writing on papers. Shouts were heard throughout the camp on the other side. As the voices lowered, the General motioned for the messenger to come closer.
"Who is left alive. Any word? Any rumor?"
"No sir," said the messenger, "The royal family was executed quite brutally and publicly. The house of lords disbanded. Many nobility were jumped in the street. The Horne District burns to cinders."
"No one escaped? There were none who were loyal?"
"All those who opposed were slaughtered or arrested," said the messenger, "It was all rather fast, sir. The Salvation Front had many supporters and sympathizers."
"Bollocks," spat Poupon, "How could this have happened?"
The General stared at the map. His face sullen. He shook his head.
"What are your orders, sir?" Asked Arthur.
"My Orders?" The General asked.
"Of course," said Poupon, "If there really isn't any royalty left and the house of Nobles is out of commission, then you would be the highest ranking member of his majesty's Kingdom left.You are the last hope."
"We follow your orders, sir," said Arthur, "Do we recognize this coupe? Do we continue our war in the Prush Empire? Do we turn tail and march on Optilocus?"
"March on what?" spat the general, "Traitors hailed as heroes? Mill workers who'll stand against us with hammers and scrap metal? Women? children? The demons? We will be returning home to a different world..."
"Hence why they need us," demanded Arthur, "There's a chance. There's hope. Nobility could be in hiding. They could be enslaved."
"What would that do for the men?" said the General, "Most of which are sympathizers. Order them to turn their rifles away from our southern foes and turn them on their fathers, brothers, and sons? Turn them on the very people we serve? Shell their homes and neighborhoods with cannon fire? Blockade the cities and starve out their families?"
The room was silent. General Sunsue sighed. They stared at the objects on the map. Their eyes drifting north. Their eyes drifting to the part of the map they could not see. Home. While their backs had turned, everything had changed.
"The cities," said Arthur, looking to the messenger.
"I've heard little," said the Messenger, "It's understood, however, that the powers that be in Argenstrath gave no aid to the royal family, and many nobles were arrested within its gates. There is rumor many are fleeing west."
"So that's it, then. We head west and claim the townships for the king. See who has washed up there. Then march East. They've no armies to speak of."
"Again, shelling cities and citizens," said Sunsue, "Citizens of Antiford, Colonel."
They awaited his response, the tent once more being silent. The General stared at his map.
"General... the Salvation Front wish for a response," said the messenger, "Sir, I should have you know: I have been ordered to report everything. They even want me to mention any... hesitation. I think they are skeptical of you."
The General closed his eyes. He knew it. The choice was harder now. All or nothing. The General stared at the map.
"Leave me," said the General, "Messenger, you shall await my answer for the Technocratic Salvation Front. Colonels, have the men hold their lines. Secure the ridge. I want messengers dispatched to the Prushians. We need to secure a truce. Something to end this war. We have troubles to deal with."
"What are you going to do, General?" Colonel Arthur said.
"I am going to think," said the General.
They all saluted before walking out of the tent. General Sunsue was left, alone. Contemplating his options. He pulled out a service revolver from its holster and placed it on the map. Looking at it, he shook his head. Wonder how the world had gotten so messed up.