3. A Desperate Attempt
The Serena was taking volley after indiscriminate volley of cannon fire. The steep climb into God's Eye was treacherous; a single motion off the path could land a cannonball into the ship's vital innards. Smoke was already pouring from the stern of the ship; one of the five engines had taken a bad hit on the initial approach of our exit. My back felt the collision as if a spiked stick was smacked into my body. Looking outside the bridge, the Dark Rift seemed like a night sky with explosive stars crowding all around in excitement. The madness was almost majestic; almost pleasing. We continued ascent to heights unreachable by our Black Moonstone ships. Soon we would be out of the Rift and in the clear, or so I had thought.
We erupted out of the Rift with a violent force. This is the farthest away from home I've ever been. In all honesty, no one from the Ebon Civilization had seen anything beyond the Rift, except on nights like this, but it was like gazing at the rest of the world through a hazy window. It never satisfied our curiosity, but all our attempts to soar to these altitudes ended in failure, and all the navigation ships we sent to map a safe course through the Rift's many passages have never returned. For some odd reason, our allies the Silvites have never offered to show us the outside world either. Diplomatic councils were always held in the conference room of my palace, although I've never been to them. It was always my Uncle Jales' job, as king, to meet with diplomats. Since his death five months ago, relations have pretty much remained distant with the Silvites, aside from Ralinto's marriage proposal. That was all for naught.
As we broke through the final clouds of the darkness below us, we could see more Silvite ships in waiting around the exit. We were outnumbered. I gave the orders to hide behind some of the outer Rift clouds to devise a plan. It was hopeless. There were about five or six heavily armed vessels waiting for any signs of the Serena, my guess is they already knew about the mutiny before the campaign was underway. Whether that was true or not, I would rather be ready for the worst. I called the tacticians of both crew to the bridge. By now Cales gained full movement of his body. He did not resist. Despite Sarlinto's ease in trapping him, he was the best swordsman I had ever known. His cooperation was a sign of his repentance and my evidence that he knew nothing of the reason in which the attack was mounted. A man in the loop does not act surprised as he did, and certainly would not be subject to a commanded mutiny. We pulled in just beyond the sight of the armada below. The last of the requested crew filed in and we shut the door.
"Let's get down to business, gentlemen. The current situation is as follows: there are half a dozen battleships on the horizon ready to pounce on this ship the moment we poke port out of the Rift. Solutions?" I tried to sound as official and military as possible. In truth I had no experience with battle or the tactics involved, but I could not let the opposing crew know that, even if they seem to be loyal now. Cales appeared to be loyal until this, after all. I looked around at the straining, calculating faces surrounding the table. Minutes passed, and still no sound plan. Then, Sarlinto, of all people, spoke up.
"Perhaps, we could try running at full force until we reach above the range of their guns, then turn south-southeast toward Glacia. Maybe there we can find refuge, and maybe even an ally."
"Good plan, assassin, but how do we outrun the cannons of six heavily armed battleships less than a league away from us? Our current fuel gets a maximum of 15 knots out of the engine. We'd need double, maybe triple the power to pull it off. 'Miracle fuel' that does not exist, at the least on board this ship," retorted one of Ralinto's tacticians. It had Sarlinto stumped for a while, but he sprang back with an answer.
"Maybe, if we combined the positive energy of the silver moonstone in the engine now with the conversion power of the black moonstone on Captain Lazara's staff, it might produce a suitable amount of energy. That is, as long as we run the engine in combustion mode, since the resultant energy would be a negative force explosion. It should, however, propel us forward with more force than we are currently capable of." At that scientific outburst the room was hushed. Engineers on both sides were busy writing down equations and calculations, trying desperately to prove Sarlinto correct with math. Even your assassin friend is warming up to the idea of greater possibilities. When is it going to be your turn to see the beauty of science? My subconscious chimed in with yet another witty retort to reality. I only wish I could control the outbursts, because right now they're clouding my judgment, and I was busy going over the options presented. You know, your friend's theory is correct. When has he ever been wrong? And who knows, he might have a sentient scientist lying dormant in his brain. We all might, and never know it. Besides, have I ever showed you the wrong path? That last one I could not argue with. While to the best of my memory I've never been in any situation quite as dire, I do not remember a time that I could not think my way out of trouble. I guess I do have a calculating scientist in my head determining the best path I should choose to take. I must sound crazy, but I cannot find any conflicting evidence pointing otherwise.
I interrupted the muffled debates with a military voice, "The plan will work. It has to work, since it is our only option outside of surrender. And true sailors never surrender. Make it happen, whatever you need to do." With that I handed the engineers my royal staff and they went off to make preparations. It took a good fifteen minutes, and I was beginning to worry if the ships below would begin pursuit or begin attacking the ground again. Preparations were made, the crews were readied, and I shouted into the moonstone intercom.
"We all know what the plan is. Making it out is top priority. Everyone brace yourselves, and gunners, be ready to help with patchwork to the hull if damage begins to get serious. On my sig--"
Just as we were about to take off, a small fleet of light battleships arose from behind the Ebon Continent. They all shot their cannons at the attacking ships. Two opposing battleships fell into Deep Sky, but there were a good twenty left. At this rate the fleet would not be enough to defend Esantis (capital city of the Ebon civilization... sorry), but judging from their continued velocity they were only trying to escape using our path. Sarlinto gave a hidden grimace. One thing was for sure; those were not Ebon armada ships. In fact, they bore the insignia of the Black Dagger guild, but with an orange background. The same symbol was weaved into their fastly sailing flags as well. The opposing ships returned fire, narrowly missing with every shot. The ships seemed lightning fast. In mere minutes they were almost upon us, but they did not know of the awaiting ships. We had to warn them.
"Navigator, hail the approaching ships." The navigator did as such. But turned back with slight dismay.
"No response. They are ignoring us." Suddenly, an orange beam of light screamed across the sky in our exact direction. It originated from the flagship of the unknown armada.
"Dodge the beam! It looks powerful, and it may only take one hit to deliver a deathblow. Turn the engine on now! Everyone get ready for accelerated launch." The usual hum came on as the engines were readied. This was going to be close. A hissing noise told us the engines were ready for go. One push of a lever and we shot off at speeds unimaginable before now. The beam seemed to freeze in place behind us. The once ominous ships above us sped past out of sight, and we were in the clear. I gave the order to level off and turn toward Glacia, but the lookout sent us an announcement through the intercom.
"A vast! Black Dagger ships over stern not even a quarter league away and pacing us. I suggest pushing the engines to full." I looked over to the navigator and gave the signal to do so. Our heads jerked back, and some of the unready crew flew back to smack against the back wall of the bridge. Now we were going fast. I was sure nothing could catch us now, but I seemed to be wrong.
"Black Dagger ships are still pacing us. We can't outrun them. They're just too damned fast!" the lookout reported. You had no way of knowing this would happen. By all rights the plan would have worked. Perhaps planning for the unknown is something better left up to a real captain. Just what I did not need, a critic. Just as my little voice finished criticizing me, an orange flash came from stern. The flagship fired a second beam. This one found home, and the ship shook with the force of gale winds. Everything lit up. The bright orange light blinded me. Suddenly, everything vanished, and all that was left was black emptiness. Welcome to my world. It seems you are dead.
The Serena was taking volley after indiscriminate volley of cannon fire. The steep climb into God's Eye was treacherous; a single motion off the path could land a cannonball into the ship's vital innards. Smoke was already pouring from the stern of the ship; one of the five engines had taken a bad hit on the initial approach of our exit. My back felt the collision as if a spiked stick was smacked into my body. Looking outside the bridge, the Dark Rift seemed like a night sky with explosive stars crowding all around in excitement. The madness was almost majestic; almost pleasing. We continued ascent to heights unreachable by our Black Moonstone ships. Soon we would be out of the Rift and in the clear, or so I had thought.
We erupted out of the Rift with a violent force. This is the farthest away from home I've ever been. In all honesty, no one from the Ebon Civilization had seen anything beyond the Rift, except on nights like this, but it was like gazing at the rest of the world through a hazy window. It never satisfied our curiosity, but all our attempts to soar to these altitudes ended in failure, and all the navigation ships we sent to map a safe course through the Rift's many passages have never returned. For some odd reason, our allies the Silvites have never offered to show us the outside world either. Diplomatic councils were always held in the conference room of my palace, although I've never been to them. It was always my Uncle Jales' job, as king, to meet with diplomats. Since his death five months ago, relations have pretty much remained distant with the Silvites, aside from Ralinto's marriage proposal. That was all for naught.
As we broke through the final clouds of the darkness below us, we could see more Silvite ships in waiting around the exit. We were outnumbered. I gave the orders to hide behind some of the outer Rift clouds to devise a plan. It was hopeless. There were about five or six heavily armed vessels waiting for any signs of the Serena, my guess is they already knew about the mutiny before the campaign was underway. Whether that was true or not, I would rather be ready for the worst. I called the tacticians of both crew to the bridge. By now Cales gained full movement of his body. He did not resist. Despite Sarlinto's ease in trapping him, he was the best swordsman I had ever known. His cooperation was a sign of his repentance and my evidence that he knew nothing of the reason in which the attack was mounted. A man in the loop does not act surprised as he did, and certainly would not be subject to a commanded mutiny. We pulled in just beyond the sight of the armada below. The last of the requested crew filed in and we shut the door.
"Let's get down to business, gentlemen. The current situation is as follows: there are half a dozen battleships on the horizon ready to pounce on this ship the moment we poke port out of the Rift. Solutions?" I tried to sound as official and military as possible. In truth I had no experience with battle or the tactics involved, but I could not let the opposing crew know that, even if they seem to be loyal now. Cales appeared to be loyal until this, after all. I looked around at the straining, calculating faces surrounding the table. Minutes passed, and still no sound plan. Then, Sarlinto, of all people, spoke up.
"Perhaps, we could try running at full force until we reach above the range of their guns, then turn south-southeast toward Glacia. Maybe there we can find refuge, and maybe even an ally."
"Good plan, assassin, but how do we outrun the cannons of six heavily armed battleships less than a league away from us? Our current fuel gets a maximum of 15 knots out of the engine. We'd need double, maybe triple the power to pull it off. 'Miracle fuel' that does not exist, at the least on board this ship," retorted one of Ralinto's tacticians. It had Sarlinto stumped for a while, but he sprang back with an answer.
"Maybe, if we combined the positive energy of the silver moonstone in the engine now with the conversion power of the black moonstone on Captain Lazara's staff, it might produce a suitable amount of energy. That is, as long as we run the engine in combustion mode, since the resultant energy would be a negative force explosion. It should, however, propel us forward with more force than we are currently capable of." At that scientific outburst the room was hushed. Engineers on both sides were busy writing down equations and calculations, trying desperately to prove Sarlinto correct with math. Even your assassin friend is warming up to the idea of greater possibilities. When is it going to be your turn to see the beauty of science? My subconscious chimed in with yet another witty retort to reality. I only wish I could control the outbursts, because right now they're clouding my judgment, and I was busy going over the options presented. You know, your friend's theory is correct. When has he ever been wrong? And who knows, he might have a sentient scientist lying dormant in his brain. We all might, and never know it. Besides, have I ever showed you the wrong path? That last one I could not argue with. While to the best of my memory I've never been in any situation quite as dire, I do not remember a time that I could not think my way out of trouble. I guess I do have a calculating scientist in my head determining the best path I should choose to take. I must sound crazy, but I cannot find any conflicting evidence pointing otherwise.
I interrupted the muffled debates with a military voice, "The plan will work. It has to work, since it is our only option outside of surrender. And true sailors never surrender. Make it happen, whatever you need to do." With that I handed the engineers my royal staff and they went off to make preparations. It took a good fifteen minutes, and I was beginning to worry if the ships below would begin pursuit or begin attacking the ground again. Preparations were made, the crews were readied, and I shouted into the moonstone intercom.
"We all know what the plan is. Making it out is top priority. Everyone brace yourselves, and gunners, be ready to help with patchwork to the hull if damage begins to get serious. On my sig--"
Just as we were about to take off, a small fleet of light battleships arose from behind the Ebon Continent. They all shot their cannons at the attacking ships. Two opposing battleships fell into Deep Sky, but there were a good twenty left. At this rate the fleet would not be enough to defend Esantis (capital city of the Ebon civilization... sorry), but judging from their continued velocity they were only trying to escape using our path. Sarlinto gave a hidden grimace. One thing was for sure; those were not Ebon armada ships. In fact, they bore the insignia of the Black Dagger guild, but with an orange background. The same symbol was weaved into their fastly sailing flags as well. The opposing ships returned fire, narrowly missing with every shot. The ships seemed lightning fast. In mere minutes they were almost upon us, but they did not know of the awaiting ships. We had to warn them.
"Navigator, hail the approaching ships." The navigator did as such. But turned back with slight dismay.
"No response. They are ignoring us." Suddenly, an orange beam of light screamed across the sky in our exact direction. It originated from the flagship of the unknown armada.
"Dodge the beam! It looks powerful, and it may only take one hit to deliver a deathblow. Turn the engine on now! Everyone get ready for accelerated launch." The usual hum came on as the engines were readied. This was going to be close. A hissing noise told us the engines were ready for go. One push of a lever and we shot off at speeds unimaginable before now. The beam seemed to freeze in place behind us. The once ominous ships above us sped past out of sight, and we were in the clear. I gave the order to level off and turn toward Glacia, but the lookout sent us an announcement through the intercom.
"A vast! Black Dagger ships over stern not even a quarter league away and pacing us. I suggest pushing the engines to full." I looked over to the navigator and gave the signal to do so. Our heads jerked back, and some of the unready crew flew back to smack against the back wall of the bridge. Now we were going fast. I was sure nothing could catch us now, but I seemed to be wrong.
"Black Dagger ships are still pacing us. We can't outrun them. They're just too damned fast!" the lookout reported. You had no way of knowing this would happen. By all rights the plan would have worked. Perhaps planning for the unknown is something better left up to a real captain. Just what I did not need, a critic. Just as my little voice finished criticizing me, an orange flash came from stern. The flagship fired a second beam. This one found home, and the ship shook with the force of gale winds. Everything lit up. The bright orange light blinded me. Suddenly, everything vanished, and all that was left was black emptiness. Welcome to my world. It seems you are dead.
