The Battle
"Where are they?"
"I can't see 'em!"
"Come on, it's the biggest thing in the sky, where are they?"
"THERE!"
Arnett looked down from the cockpit to see where Jules Chapman had pointed. Following his indication, Arnett stood in the cockpit to look around the side of the Landship to spot them.
The airship had rounded the rock formation. They were flying low, practically scraping the dirt, to avoid Arnett's gaze.
"Dangit!" shouted Arnett, "Shoot them!"
"They're too fast," said Gwen.
Arnett heard the roar of Cannons. He pushed the Scorpios II controls forward, bringing the lumbering Landship to a halt just in time for the shots to go wide in front, missing the landship but slamming into the ground ahead. The impact threw dirt a debris up onto the ship.
"Pirates?" shouted Chapman.
"They're playing it too safe, too cautious," said Arnett, "They would've boarded us by now if they were pirates!"
"Screw these guys," said Gwen.
"If they aren't pirates then what is their problem?" said Chapman.
"They could be Bounty Hunters," said Arnett, shifting some valves overhead, "I'm going to need to chance a shot, but I have to be out there. I can't aim it good enough from in here."
"Outside?" asked Gwen, "Where the guns are? Are you crazy!"
"Bounty Hunters?" questioned Chapman, "Whatever do they want?"
Arnett shrugged, "Me. Gwen. You. Our stuff. Maybe they don't even want us. Who knows. Pirate or Bounty Hunter they are here for profit and they have already fired."
"We can't stop, they'll pummel us," said Gwen.
"Time to learn a valuable lesson, pupil." said Arnett, "I have one shot, the cannon's primed. Let's do this!"
Arnett bolted for the bulkhead. He passed Jules Chapman, who held onto his top hat and kept staring towards the opening to the cargo hold nervously. Probably worried about his precious lab equipment or whatever. Typical scholar. Gwen poked her head in from the side cannon room, her face and goggles dusty from smoke and oil.
"I'll keep us moving!" she shouted, running for the cargo hold.
"Don't touch the controls," said Arnett, thrusting open the door, "I'll handle this!"
"We'll die!" shouted Gwen.
Arnett jumped through the bulkhead, out into the sunlight. Gwen sighed and turned for the cockpit. She had to do something!
"I need to get to my wardrobe," said Jules, "If they board-"
"If I take you down there there'll be no one left to protect your valuables, professor," said Gwen, "Stay put, we can handle this!"
Jules turned, and headed for the cargo hold.
Arnett's feet hit the deck of the landship, and he ignored the burning of his eyes as he ran for the stern of the Scorpios II. He could already hear the humming of his main cannon. It was warmed up and primed to fire. A breeze in the air threatened to take his hat due to the cyclone already raging in between the two rails of the cannon. Arnett could hear the engines of the airship. It was close. They would be spinning around to fire another volley.
Gunfire filled his ears. The airship was coming up on their rear, and the front Gatling gun had already spotted him. Arnett dropped into a slid, pressing up against the cannon for cover as bullets whizzed past. The airship's engines thrummed overhead as the airship passed. Arnett looked up to see a few arms waiting to drop grenades from above.
The Landship Scorpios II jerked forward, suddenly. The airship was still in the process of slowing down and when they dropped the grenades, most dropped harmlessly into the sand behind the landship. Two made it to the deck, but the momentum of the landship caused them to roll off the back before they detonated. Arnett sighed, feeling the rocking of the legs working in unison as the ship sped ahead.
"Gwen!" Arnett shouted.
However he didn't have time to get angry. Rising to a stand, Arnett rushed for the cannon controls. The Gatling gun came back into focus for a moment as the airship adjusted its velocity. Gunfire rang out again, this time sweeping the deck sporadically. Arnett ducked down, but the rain of fire did not come near.
The airship veered off, listing to the side to probably get into a position to fire their cannons again. Arnett got up again, finishing the short distance to the cannon's controls.
Arnett had precious seconds. He pulled back a lever closest to him and began furiously spinning a valve one handed. The cannon shook, before steam coursed through the hydraulic pistons and it raised from its position. The platform the gun was on began to spin, and Arnett turned his attention on the sights as they rose into view. He turned the cannon to find the airship.
One of the airship's cannons went off, the shell streaking below the landship, tossing debris up into the hull. Shortly after another cannon fired, missing the nose of the ship but spraying debris over the windshield of the cockpit. Arnett could feel the jittering of the accelerator as Gwen struggled with continuing onward of slowing down to avoid the shots. The airship must've got the answer they wanted as a third shot screech in and slammed into the side of the landship. The shell shattered, sending debris scratching off the armor and sparks and smoke obscuring the area. The ship was pushed sideways with the force of the blast.
Arnett didn't have time to judge the damage, the airship had zeroed in on them, and the hit was too much for Gwen, who had slowed with one of her hands on the accelerator controls, and slowly the Scorpios II began to turn towards the airship, losing speed.
Arnett, however, needed the slight pivot to quickly get the cannon into place. The sights lined up, and he had the airship where he wanted them.
Arnett's hundreds of practiced shots took over. He felt the movement of the landship. He watched the speed of the airship against the still background. His eyes trailed the shot, moving the cannon up slightly. His eyes focused on a point just below one of the sight's metal indicators. He saw the armored balloon, the sheets of metallic armor glistening and the soft, red fabric of the balloon showing through the major spaces between each plate.
And his foot pushed forward on the foot trigger. A shard of crystalized sand was ejected cleanly into the cannon. The cyclone roaring inside instantly grabbed hold of the meter-long projectile, slightly spinning it. The shard was propelled through the cyclone, building speed until it was ejected out of the other side, past the two rails. It soared through the air, spinning and whistling very slightly. The airship enlarged as it approached, and its course seemed to veer, from the bow of the ship over toward the stern. One of the engines was spinning away, and the shared struck it, hard. It easily sliced through the housing, and jammed into the machinery. It cracked and split and clogs up the workings, the projectile turning to dust. However the sparks it created, set off a fire in that propeller engine.
From Arnett's perch on the Scorpios II, all he saw was a puff as an engine slowly coughed smoke and debris and died. In the time it took for the engine to die Arnett had already readjusted and fired a second shot. This shard slammed into one of the armor plates. It his at such an angle it veered upward, scraping the harness and lodging under the plate above it. The straps holding the plate in place were frayed, and they snapped under the weight of the armor and fell.
This shifting of weight combined with the loss of the engine veered the airship. Finally the volley Arnett was waiting for fired, only they came up hopelessly short, the rounds creating a wall of dirt and dust between the airship and the landship.
Arnett took aim again, and fired his third round. The projectile was easily aimed at the now vacant opening on the balloon. It tore through the balloon, ripping through the light supports inside, and bouncing off the armor on the opposite side, ripping the fabric further.
The airship was a mess, and began to drop. An alarm was raised after a moment or two, and Arnett watched as they released ballasts of sand and dirt in an effort to stay afloat. By the time Arnett landed a fourth shot into the hull of the ship, piercing the armor and disappearing inside, it was over.
The airship was already veering off, and it began to more rapidly careen to the dirt. Arnett followed it with the cannon, however he was wary of using his fifth and probably final round. It had been a while since his last airship battle, and he had not been prepared to use the main cannon at all.
The airship could be heard scraping the dirt, as the would splintered, the metal crunched, and the dirt creaked and rumbled.
The Scorpios II slowed to a walk, and Arnett glared over at the cockpit before leaning down to grab the speaking tube that connected to the cockpit.
"What are you doing? You've brought us this far," said Arnett, "Let's get out of here!"
"What about the airship?" she asked.
"They won't bother us anymore, they have bigger fish to fry," said Arnett, "No chance of us getting overrun by survivors if we're not around for them to overrun. Now pull back on those controls and take us south west, towards the rail lines! Go!"
Arnett moved the controls, turning the cannons back to the resting position and prepared to reenter the Landship.
Upon his reentering, he was amazed to see that Jules Chapman had emerged from the cargo hold. He now dawned a leather duster and goggles. He appeared to have cast his top hat aside and he looked nervous.
"The Bounty Hunters?"
"They are gone, for now," said Arnett, "What are you doing?"
"Preparing," answered Chapman.
"For... a job offer?" said Arnett, "A change of outfit won't stop Bounty Hunters, or pirates for that matter, there, mate. I told you we could handle it. Their airship is grounded and we'll be long gone by the time they can start to chase us."
"I see," said Chapman, who took his seat at a chair they had placed in the common area, leaning on a box.
"You... you have reason to fear Bounty Hunters?" asked Arnett.
Chapman weighed his response before answering, "When you know what I know and make what I make you are always weary of who is out to take what isn't theirs."
Arnett sighed, before turning his attention to the cockpit, and he walked over to congratulate Gwen.
The Cannon
"No, I think you did good," said Arnett.
"But you won't let me pilot the Scorpios II until...?"
Arnett gave an exasperated sigh. He was leaning over the side of the Landship held on solely by a belt tied to the side. He was examining the damage done by the fighting, and was looking very worriedly at a warped plate of armor that could prove fatal if hit at the right angle. If an explosive shell got through and into the magazine, the whole Landship could go up in moments.
"I wouldn't... say that," said Arnett, "It's not like I won't."
"Ugh!" moaned Gwen, "You are impossible! Like a young mother with her first child!"
"Don't be mad. The Scorpios II was in my life first," said Arnett.
"Extraordinary," mumbled Chapman from where he stood on the deck.
Arnett had honestly forgotten about him and he peered up cautiously to see what he was doing. Jules Chapman had mysteriously been down to his wardrobe and changed since their attire back to his normal suit and waistcoat. He spent the rest of the time since the battle complaining of the fragility of his equipment and experiments down in the cargo hold.
The gentleman was now peering over the main gun. He had climbed up on one of the footholds and was peaking at the cannon with great interest.
This unsettled Arnett, but he shook his head and ignored it.
"Look, I'm not really good at the cannons," said Gwen, "Perhaps I should stop trying to fill Joseph's role and start figuring out where I truly belong on this ship."
"You are great at fixing stuff," said Arnett, "I blame your tiny hands. I'm actually right impressed."
"I'm not a mechanic," said Gwen, crossing her arms, "But the controls came so natural to me."
"Excuse me," called over Chapman.
Arnett groaned before peeking his head over with a smile.
"What... is this?" asked Chapman.
Arnett shrugged, "The main cannon."
"I am aware of what you used it for," said Chapman, "But this is no ordinary artillery piece. If I'm correct in looking this over, this... is..."
"Stolen property," sighed Arnett, "Look, I've had it a long time, it gets me. I get it sometimes. Just try not to break anything. That's a no-"
"Please," said Chapman, "I do not intend to sabotage or steal your cannon, sir. I am currently in your debt."
"Remember that when it's time to pay up," groaned Arnett.
"I am talking about the how," said Chapman, "How?"
"Wind," answered Gwen.
Arnett went to shush her, but ended up just pounding his head lightly on the side of the landship. Arnett pulled himself up, untying the belt from its anchor, and headed over to Chapman.
"See these bulbs here? Here? Down there- Those get cooled really, really low. It kind of, sucks all the heat out of the air, out of the bulbs themselves, and pushed them down into exhausts. Those exhausts, and the exhausts for some of the ship, are also funneled through this whole thine. Those ports, there? Those get superheated," Arnett began to spin his hands in demonstration, "The way it was explained to me is these two opposing forces are basically the theory on how cyclones work. Dust storms. Tornados. Whatever you want to name them. Hot air and cold air mixing and swirling and spinning as they fight to correct themselves."
"I... alright," said Chapman, "Go on."
"This mechanism down at the base that spins? This helps get the ball rolling faster, ensures the cyclone is going in the direction I want," continued Arnett, "This cyclone of air becomes so violent, due to the hot and cold all up and down the rails here, that it shoots out the end there. Since the mechanism can hold the cyclone.... indefinitely, I have a constant, powerful stream that I use to propel things."
"Now it might be able to fire a cannon shell. Maybe a mortar round. But that could be a waste and honestly, I've only done so a handful of times. However, at the base here I have another fancy machine that I am unsure of it's actual use. However, it superheats things and spits them out."
"Very scientific explanation," mumbled Chapman.
"I used this idea to create crystalized sand and... bingo! The crystals are light enough and hard enough that combined with the power of this cannon they go the distance and pierce through airships. Hulls, balloons, sometimes lighter armor."
Chapman took a deep breathe, and let out a long, loud sigh. He looked the cannon up and down and then shook his head.
"No way," said Chapman, "That's... that's not how science works. This... this can't work."
Arnett shook his head, "Believe it or not, this impossibility saved your life."
"I just-" Chapman stammered, "How did... someone like you..."
"I told you, stolen," said Arnett, "Got it off some old Pirate ship."
"Interesting," Chapman murmured, "Do you, by any chance, have blueprints? Has anyone else looked into this design?"
"I... I have some," said Arnett, "What are you so interested in it for?"
"Look here, Lieutenant," said Chapman, "I witnessed, today, something scary, frustrating, and odd. Your explanation of it is queer. However, one thing is certain. This... invention could be so much more!"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, for instance," started Chapman, "To suck the very heat from the air so... efficiently and so effectively, that could have ramifications in the right context. Are you familiar with a type of condenser back east called the conditioner?" Arnett shook his head, so Chapman continued, "You see, it's a massive machine which pulled water from the air. However, the inventor realized his method had an unintended side effect. You see, while the water was collected, the machine blew a great deal of hot air away from the machine, however it also blew a great deal of cold air away from the machine. With a little tweaking to the design, he had created a machine which drew air in from a room and the outside, extracted the water, but blew cold, refreshing air back into the room while expelling hotter air outside with the exhaust."
"And it works?"
"Does work, has worked. The rich of Gearford have owned such contraptions for several years now," smiled Chapman, "In fact, I believe one had been installed in the chamber where the House of Commons and the House of Engineers debate the matters of our nation."
Arnett turned to Gwen, "Make a note, I must have one of these condensers. Can you imagine it here?"
"I cannot, it would be much too big," said Chapman, "And expensive. However, the process is not all that dissimilar to what you have described to me here, with this machine, and it's much smaller. With proper design, can you imagine such a cooling condenser small enough for a ship? For a singular home? Perhaps cheap enough for the wider consumer? Such a design could make an inventor rich."
"Such a design could," said Arnett, "Or could give a mad man some sort of cold-air gun and they could run around, freezing everybody."
Chapman shook his head, "No, this is not some sort of pulp pamphlet for children. And let me not put into view the potential of someone being able to create a cyclone of air at will. Such a machine could so things we can not imagine! It could propel airships into the sky without need of bulky balloons! It could clear up the streets of a city after a sand storm."
"It could bury a city with that same sand storm," said Arnett, "Again, another reason I shouldn't hand over this technology to some stranger to profit off of."
"That... actually that is a chillingly probable outcome," said Chapman, "But don't you see my point, Lieutenant? So much of this machine is a wonder and it feels so... under utilized out here waiting to be blown up by a pirate!"
"The answer, is no."
"I could pay you!"
"You can't pay me now."
"Profits," said Chapman, "Listen to me. I wish to study this. Understand it. I have no wish to get much recognition and fame. However, denying what could come from this would be a great shame to Antiford."
"I don't know..." said Arnett.
"Who else do you have to fix this thing if it breaks down?" asked Chapman.
"I can fix it."
"Joel," said Gwen, "Has this thing ever broken down?"
"Not really, it's sort of always been alright," said Arnett, "A few issues here and there, but nothing I couldn't handle."
"So it's overdue a catastrphic failure?" asked Gwen.
"Don't say that," said Arnett.
"Look, I'll pay you," said Chapman, "Especially if it evermakes it big. And if I can fixit or recreate it, I will also fix it any time it is needed."
"But how can I trust you?"
"Why wouldn't you?"
"Because you hired us," said Arnett, "You didn't hire any train to safely and quickly take you and your countless, delicate, lab equipment across the whole istoki. You instead hired us. You've been upset at us not being quick. You've been upset at us not being smooth. You've not canceled our trip short to catch the next train west. SO why is that?"
Chapman said nothing. Arnett smiled and leaned against the cannon.
"You see, there's only one reason someone wants to avoid train stations so badly, and that's to steer clear of Tin Men," continue Arnett, "And you packed up and headed west. You are running from something. You are running from something, you are avoiding police, and I cannot trust you. Jules Chapman. And promise of your payment means nothing if I cannot trust you."
Chapman looked back to Arnett, crossing his arms, "You... just see it so, do you? Just figured all that out?"
"It's why," said Arnett, casting a glance at Gwen, "I don't do passengers, normally. People lie. Cargo doesn't."
"And how does one who you don't trust show his trust-worthieness?"
Arnett paused a moment. He said nothing further. Chapman stroked his chin in thought, looking out to the horizon.
"My name is Jules Chelice," said Chapman, "And I fear I am being hunted, possibly by the law, due to my work. I fear the stories I have been hearing about the law tightening its belt and cleaning house. I am fleeing west for fear of my work coming to an end."
Arnett turned to Gwen and tilted his head to Chapman. Gwen gave a sigh of defeat, crossing her arms.
"I am now at your mercy," said Chapman, "Bounty or no Bounty, you now can turn me in for a little bit of cash. Possibly sell off my machines and all my work for profit. I am at your mercy."
"Do you have a bounty on you?"
"I would be foolish to hope I didn't," said Chapman, "So what will it be, Lieutenant?"
Arnett sighed, looking at his large cannon thoughtfully, "I very well could. I suppose that's honest, and if it is you were foolish to do that."
"Am I?" asked Chapman, "Are you a Bounty Hunter too? Or just cold blooded enough to take the route that gets you paid the most?"
Gwen shook her head, "I can't be apart of this decision. It got strange."
Arnett shook his head, "So... a portion of the profits and you'll fix this thing whenever I need? Free of charge?"
Chapman looked at Arnett, at first with confusion and then getting a little excited, "That is taking the large leap for granted that I can make out anything about it at all. As I said, this is a mystery and a... great opportunity."
"Rules," said Arnett, "I want it in writing. I want signatures, both from Professor Chapman and this wanted criminal Jules Chalice."
"Chelice," corrected Chapman, "And I'm not a professor."
"I also don't want you touching this cannon, not right now," said Arnett, "I can't afford you taking it apart and not being able to put it back together! Not when we're still in the middle of the Istoki."
"Surprisingly wise," said Chapman, "I can agree to that."
"Also, I am getting paid for it," said Arnett, "So we'll get you to your destination, get you settles and hopefully making some money. Then we'll go from there."
"I... hmm..."
"Also, I want my plans, my blueprints," said Arnett, "So before we leave, you make sure you have copies of whatever you think you might need."
"I have a bad feeling about this arrangement," said Chapman, "For the one lying about his identity, I fear you might be the more dangerous one."
"You can bet on that," said Arnett, "And while you're getting set up to look things over and such, I also want to know about you. The real you. I need to know if you're a murderer, or a psychophant-"
"Psychopath?"
"Or a nuts," said Arnett, "There's no room on this ship for a Mad Magongo. I can't sleep not knowing what you are."
"Fine," said Chapman, "I suppose you'll want to draw up the paperwork now?"
"Fine," said Arnett, gesturing to the bulkhead, "Please, after you."
Chapman shook his head, "Unbelievable."