A/N: WAIT! Have you read chapter 9? I changed it up a bit. Just read the last few paragraphs and the author's note.
Are we good?
Okay, proceed:
Disclaimer: I don't own anything!
Captain Hartmann lowered his field glasses, contemplating. He was under the overhang of a nearby mountain, effectively hidden from being seen by the Leviathan or the Swiss castle.
The castle was virtually impossible to capture from the ground, without using explosives. He certainly didn't want to kill the crew of the Leviathan, or, more importantly, the Count's young friend. A ground attack would be too difficult; the towers and walls were too thick. However, the castle was built over 600 years ago and thus virtually defenseless against an aerial attack. The courtyards, where the crew was now feasting, were open to the sky. Chilly, but they were the only place that the entire crew could fit together.
This mission was turning out to be more important than at first, due to Franz Joseph's death three days ago - Captain Hartmann's superiors seemed to think the success of this could possibly be a key to a Clanker victory. There had been some debate over whether to reassign control to another, more experienced Captain.
The captain had managed to keep his assignment only from his perfect track record. And the army needed to deploy quickly - Leviathan would be moored for only a few hours, leaving the castle guarded but the ship virtually defenseless. It was the perfect time to strike, and Captain Hartmann's force was already in place.
Of course, he could just blow up the ship: reduce it to a ball of flame. But he didn't want to do that, either. A Darwinist beast in the hands of a Clanker could certainly be beneficial.
He was planning on using tear gas instead. He turned to the officer beside him.
"Lieutenant Herman!"
The young man snapped to attention. "Sir!"
"Are the gas canisters ready?"
"Yes sir."
"Excellent. Wait for my signal."
He checked his watch and then motioned to the men in the two gyrothopters. Their purpose was to distract any members of the Leviathan while Hartmann's men climbed from ground to overtake the ship's guards. All the forces had to be deployed at the same time for his plan to work.
He gave the signal to the men, watching the gyrothopters head towards the massive Darwinist abomination even as a dozen ground men run over to the ship's mooring lines and begin to climb.
The men holding the gas spread out around the castle firing the canisters over the wall into the inner courtyard. Shouting could be heard from within.
Some of the crew members stumbled out of the castle through the gate, coughing and swearing. A few were sober enough to look to the Leviathan, realizing that the ship was the target.
One or two Darwinists pulled out guns as more men ran out of the castle.
Captain Hartmann smiled grimly. Although his forces were slightly outnumbered, they had superior technology - eight Spandau machine guns were trained on the castle from the surrounding mountains. The gyrothopters had just given the signal that the Leviathan had been overtaken.
One of Hartmann's men slid down a mooring line and ran to the Captain, giving the report. He nodded at the success and motioned at his men to secure the disconcerted and disorganized crew.
"Sod off! What are you Clankers doing here?" Hartmann turned to see the commotion. A young Scottish boy was attempting to fend off the two Germans surrounding him just outside the gates.
Captain Hartmann turned back to survey the rest of the mountaintop, watching the Darwinists being tied up, when -
"I said get off!" There was a smack and a grunt of pain. Hartmann decided to check on this unruly prisoner himself.
He was just a few feet from the scene when one of his soldiers (who had a black eye blooming on his left side) pull out his pistol in evident anger and point it at the boy's head. The boy quickly shut up.
"Stop!" shouted Hartmann. "What did I tell you about harming the prisoners?"
"Sorry, sir," said the man. He put his gun away without fuss; Hartmann always insisted on total obedience within his troops.
"Why not kill us all?" spat the boy, "Why capture us?"
"Are you complaining?" Hartmann didn't wait for the answer but turned to find the rest of the crew handcuffed and assembled, Germans standing over them with guns. The Darwinists were looking befuddled, as they obviously had not expected an attack on this isolated glacier. Some crew members (and a few castle servants) had black eyes, but this was the only evidence of resistance. They were all too stunned by the tear gas.
The blinding whiteness of the snow coupled by the looming mountains provided an eerie background for Hartmann as he addressed the crew. He noticed the young prisoner- the Scottish boy - was glaring at him with singular hostility. His coat was rumpled, hat askew, giving him a rakish appearance. A few of the other crew members were glancing to the boy, as if he were a leader. As if he were the one to get everyone else out of sticky situations.
Well. Maybe this was Aleksandar's friend.
"You may be interested in knowing that I do not intend on killing anyone. Well, unless you have a death wish and try to escape. Then my soldiers will have to shoot you."
He waved a prearranged signal to the crews of the closest Spandau gun. The gunner let out a stream of bullets well over the heads of the prisoners. This was an effective gesture to remind them of who was in charge.
Any hope of escape faded from the captives' eyes. The Scottish boy looked pensive.
"Really? You only left three men to guard the Leviathan while you were in the castle?" Hartmann found Hobbes based on the man's reaction to this statement. "Tut-tut. I expected more. Well, it certainly makes my job easier. Thank you for that."
"This is a hostage situation," he continued, stating the obvious. "Your lives are being spared because of one person. You should thank her."
He stressed the 'her', trying to judge from the reaction if the crew was privy to the secret.
They weren't, if the shock and confusion on their faces were anything to go by.
Well. This was interesting. "Ah, but I see you don't know who I am talking about. How interesting. She's still kept her secret from you after all these years." He tsked. "What a fascinating girl. Fooling you all for four years! Quite remarkable. Well, her time is up."
The Scottish boy- girl?- was glaring daggers at him. He knew it was her! He smirked.
"Deryn Sharp, dearie, why don't you come join me?"
A/N: Yay! And I like this version better :D
The idea for the tear gas thing came from Middy Miles' story Orion (which is awesome). But I have express permission: "Oh, and by the way, this whole gassing thing was Middy Miles's fault. Well, really, it was her ninja-magician-brother's evil plotting skills, but it was her story that inspired this. So blame her."