El Corazón—December 2nd, 1889—07:00
Captain Antonio Fernández Carriedo
Antonio Carriedo stood on the prow of his airship, letting the chilly wind of early morning sting his sun-kissed face and play with his messy brown hair. He had long since learned to appreciate these times of solitude, when he was awake long before the rest of the crew of El Corazón even began to stir. Today, however, this peace was short-lived.
"Kapitän! There is an emergency!" a tall blond man yelled, running up to Antonio's side.
"Qué pasa, Ludwig?" Antonio asked calmly, looking the German up and down. In his alarm, Ludwig had not yet changed out of his blue and white striped pyjamas, and Antonio had to fight the urge to laugh a little at his first mate.
"We found some stowaways in the cargo hold, sir," Ludwig said in a clipped, almost irritated voice.
"Stowaways? On the El Corazón? That's impossible! You must have been dreaming, Luddy! Go back to sleep! You still have another hour!" the Spaniard chortled.
"This is not a joke, Kapitän! There really are stowaways in the hold!" Ludwig protested, his cheeks turning red.
"If you insist, then bring them up. Otherwise, I will drop you at the nearest aerodrome for immediate institutionalisation," Antonio said, deciding to humour his first mate.
"Danke, sir."
Ludwig disappeared back into the ship, re-emerging some twenty minutes later, accompanied by an ominous and threatening looking man with a pipe sticking out from between his lips.
"Since there were two of them, I decided to ask Abel for help. Now I'm glad that I did," Ludwig mumbled.
Between the men stood two young girls with olive skin, amber eyes, and identical manes of deep red-brown hair pulled back into flouncy ponytails. Each had a curl sticking out the side of her head, one girl's to the right and the other's to the left.
"Unhand me this instant, bastardo! I swear to the almighty and omnipotent God above that my Nonno will hear about how roughly you've treated me and my sorella!" one of the girls was yelling, trying to squirm out of Abel's grasp. Her sister, on the other hand, looked scared out of her wits, begging in Italian for mercy.
"We found them while we were getting flour for Toris so that we could have biscuits with breakfast," Abel explained, tossing the livid Italian girl to Antonio's feet. Ludwig was trying to quiet her sister down without harming the girl too much, though it was obvious that he wanted to.
"Abel! That is no way to treat una dama! Show some respect! These are obviously ladies of high society!" Antonio scolded, fixing his most captain-ish look on the Dutchman.
"My apologies. She bit me, so I reacted," the man said quietly, puffing at his pipe.
Antonio bent down so that he was on eye level with the angry female, who, at this point, had pulled herself up into a sitting position.
"Now then, querida, what is your name?" he asked sweetly, replacing his commanding glare with a bright smile.
"I don't have to tell you anything, bastardo. My name is my business, and my business only. Now get out of my face!" the girl spat. Antonio laughed a little at how red her face had gotten.
This one's a spitfire, ciertamente, but she obviously doesn't realise just whose ship she and her hermana have stowed away on, Antonio thought to himself.
"You two stowed away on my ship, have been stealing my food, and have alarmed my crew. I do believe that your identities, along with any valuables you might have, are now my business. Comprende?" Antonio said coldly. The girl stared up at him, and her sister froze.
"Please don't hurt us, mister! We're good girls, we promise! Our house got attacked and we had to run and these awful evil men chased us and we hid on the first airship we saw and-and-and we've been here ever since please don't hurt us we're just innocent virgins please please please! My name's Feliciana and mia sorella is Romana and our Nonno is Lucius Vargas!" the girl in Ludwig's arms cried out, tears falling from her big honey-coloured eyes. All three members of El Corazón's crew looked at each other in stunned silence. *The* Lucius Vargas? As in the famed general-turned rich and famous politician?The thought hit them all at once as they realised the pair of gems Fate had dropped into their laps.
"Gracias, querida," Antonio said with a wicked smile.
"What should we do with them?" Ludwig asked, finally dropping Feliciana next to her sister.
"Take them to the extra room, the one right next to my own quarters, and find them some nice dresses. I'm sure we have some stashed onboard from some of Heracles' liaisons. We will treat them with respect," Antonio commanded with a wave of his hand. Ludwig and Abel nodded, taking hold of the Vargas sisters again and leading them back into the belly of the ship. This would certainly be interesting.
La Liberté—March 2nd, 1890—07:00
Captain Francis Louis Bonnefoy
Francis Bonnefoy liked to think of himself as the perfect pirate: dashing, greedy, and practically a god in bed. Sure, his ship was small, and he had issues with killing people, but otherwise, he made for a fine pirate, regardless of what Gilbert's first mate said. The stupid young Scotsman was just jealous of Francis's success as a captain.
"Um, excuse me, Captain, uhm, I hate to bother you, but, uhm, it's almost time to go. Are you ready?" came a quiet voice from behind the blond Frenchman. He whipped his head around to find his cousin, Matthew, standing there, holding tightly to a small polar bear charm he'd found in their most recent port of call.
"Oui, Mathieu, I am ready. Tell Mister Zwingli to raise the sails and get the engines running. We cannot afford to fall too far behind Carriedo or Beilschmidt, lest that horrid Englishman and his crew catch up to us," Francis said turning to walk back to La Liberté. He looked at his airship wonderously. She certainly wasn't the largest airship out there, but she was definitely the most elegant, kept pristine by the very effeminate Polish man who had recently joined the crew.
"All aboard!" Francis yelled once he had boarded the ship. In response, the door closed and the engines roared to life, and within minutes, they were airborne.
Somewhere, on the other side of the busy aerodrome, two large, dark grey airships loomed like a sinister pair of shadows, one flying the flag of the Russian Federation, the other flying the Eastern Republic's flag.
The English Rose—March 2nd, 1890—07:00
Captain Arthur George Kirkland-Mackenzie
Not too far away, hidden behind a rather large thundercloud, a mid-sized airship sat, easily within view of the Marseilles aerodrome, watching as La Liberté rose into the sky.
"Mister Honda, tell the crew to prepare for a new mission. It looks like old Frogface has taken to the air again, and by God, I'm not letting him take my quarry again this time. Full speed ahead!" exclaimed a young man with thick eyebrows and even thicker blond hair.
"Yes, of course, Arthur-san," said a small Japanese man quietly. He turned and said something into a pipe which was connected to the wall, and at once, the airship sped up until it was directly behind the French ship.
"Also, Mister Honda, bring in the girl. I wish to speak with her a moment about her continued role aboard my ship," Arthur said. His first mate nodded and scurried into the next room, returning five minutes later with a grumpy looking woman in a shockingly short skirt and even more shockingly revealing shirt. Arthur had to force himself to focus on her bouncing golden curls and her vividly blue eyes rather than the other more enticing parts of her.
"You've been slacking on your job, Miss Jones. Perhaps it's because you find my ship so wonderful?" Arthur purred, fixing her with a seductive smirk as he sipped at a glass of amber-coloured liquid.
"I've seen outhouses on a farm that're more interesting," she spat in a distinctly American accent.
"Be that as it may, Miss Jones, my dear, you're stuck here until I give you away to the highest bidder. For now, though, I do expect you to be a productive member of this crew," Arthur said. Amelia gave him a confused look, and, for a moment, Arthur wondered if she understood what "productive" meant.
"If you want me to sleep with you, then my answer is no, no, no, no, and no! I refuse, British scum! I'd rather work down in the galley with that girly Finnish kid than come anywhere near you!" Amelia yelled with a look of disgust. Arthur sighed.
How in this world did her mind jump to that? I don't believe I said anything that could be taken that way, he mused.
"That can be arranged, my dear. Mister Honda, take Miss Jones down to the kitchen and tell Tino that he may do whatever he pleases with her," Arthur said. The Japanese man took the American by the arm and led her away, quietly speaking words of calm into her ear as Arthur returned his attention to the French ship ahead of them.
Der Adler—March 2nd, 1890—07:00
Captain Gilbert Nikolaus Beilschmidt
"Captain, do you want me to bring your coffee up to your office, or will you take it downstairs with the rest of us?" asked a young man with shaggy strawberry blond hair. His red eyes sparkled mischievously in the early morning sun streaming in through the large bay windows of the captain's office.
"Can you repeat that in German, or at least English? The awesome me can't give you my answer if you're speaking in a language I don't understand" came the German accented reply from behind a tall leather seat.
The young man narrowed his eyes, a little confused by the captain's response, but complied. The man sitting in the seat must have sensed his confusion.
"You were talking in Romanian again, Mircea."
"Oh! My apologies, sir! I said, Captain Beilschmidt, would you like your coffee brought up here, or will you come and join the rest of the crew down in the galley?"
"Danke. I will be down in one minute. Send Io-James up. I need to speak to him about our plan," the German voice said nonchalantly.
"Yes sir. I'll tell Berwald to set aside your cup for you!"
Mircea practically skipped out of the office, and the captain heard the boy yell,
"James! Captain Gilbert needs you in his office!"
Two minutes later, a thin young man with a very long mahogany-coloured ponytail and grey eyes appeared at the doorway.
"You wanted me, Captain?" James said in an oddly high-pitched Scottish burr.
"Ja. We need to discuss the plan. Francis is leading that English dummkopf, and Antonio is monitoring him from the west. We are supposed to be tailing him, but we need you to help in cloaking all three of us as we talked about yesterday. Can't let your stupid little brother catch me and my amazing ship. Do you think you can do it… Miss Iona?" Gilbert said as he turned to face his first mate. His heart raced a little, but he quickly sobered up.
"Is it that obvious this morning?"
"You forgot your bindings. You should thank your lucky stars that Mircea is oblivious. Now go take care of that and then go finish your breakfast. You'll need the energy."
"You realise that he's in on it, too, right? And I'll go take care of it right away, sir," the young woman nodded.
"Hmph, doesn't matter. If you're not careful, someone on this crew who doesn't know might just figure it out. Now go put on the bindings. Otherwise, I'll make you scrub the floors with your toothbrush in a dress for the next two weeks. And I'd have you refer to me as 'The Most Awesome Prussian Captain Gilbert!' Hell, I still might make you do that anyways because it's true," Gilbert cackled.
"I would mutiny."
"Then go take care of it before I change my mind."
The mate turned and left, leaving her silver-haired captain alone. He fixed his jacket and took his hat from its spot on the desk, checking his reflection in the mirror near the door.
"Mein Gott I am awesome," he chuckled quietly.
Translations:
Ta gey muckle: Thank you very much (Scots dialect)
Ta gey: Thank you (Scots)
Kapitän: Captain (German)
¿Qué pasa?: What happened/What's wrong? (Spanish)
Danke: Thank you (German)
Bastardo: Bastard (Italian)
Nonno: Grandfather (Italian)
Sorella: Sister (Italian)
Una Dama: a lady (Spanish)
Querida: dear (Spanish)
Ciertamente: Certainly (Spanish)
Hermana: Sister (Spanish)
¿Comprende?: Understand? (Spanish)
Gracias, querida: Thank you, dear (Spanish)
Oui: Yes (French)
Mein Gott: My God (German)