"Liberte"

The next minutes were the longest in Maurice Emerieu`s life. The men with the thermal lance worked as fast as they could and even the massive chain could not deny the flame at its tip. It burned through the link before it at a snail`s pace, but even a snail`s pace is fast when cutting through iron is involved. Maurice saw the cut go through the upper part and then enter the lower half of the link. The first centimeters went really fast as the iron was not very thick there and then slowed down considerably. Still it went in and the Rebel commodore started to believe they might make it before the monster gun was ready. And then the iron tube the lance burned to cut through the chain was at its end. Maurice nearly screamed in frustration when the men started to fumble with a new tube. He cringed when the first attempt to light it failed and cheered when his world ended.

He found himself on his back with a ringing head and watched a band of dust slowly settle from the low ceiling. He needed three tries and a slug of brandy before he trusted his voice again.

"Damage control, damage control, tell me what happened."

His periscope showed only twisted ruins on the foredeck and worse , a small amount of smoke accumulated above the armored casemate. His ears would not allow him to hear any inrushing water, not in the state they were in and he did not trust his footing enough to detect any developing list. Any second that went by without a report was an eternity and he had to keep himself from grabbing the runner by the lapels.

"Compliments from Lieutenant Bearns. The supports in the front casemate are staved in. Gun no. two will not be able to fire as the gunport won`t open. The Lieutenant says we cannot take one more like this in that area. He says his men extinguished a small fire"
"Give Lieutenant Bearns my compliments then. He is to shore up the supports as We cannot move from here till the guys in Fraternite`are done."

When the runner was gone Maurice used his periscope to get his bearings. It was not easy, like trying to watch through a straw. He was about to order more viewports opened when the second explosion took his breath away. This time he was not thrown anywhere and his ears seemed to work moderately well. He waited for damage reports with baited breath and one came. The answer revealed itself when the viewports indeed opened and revealed smoke and ruin where a gun-toting tower had been before. Egalite` had come through after all.

The cheers still reverberated through Liberte` when the chain fell away from Fraternite`s claw and the way for the three warships was clear.

"Helm, all ahead slow. Francois, line forms behind us, Egalite` takes up tail. And I want soundings taken every minute. It would not do to run aground here and now."
"Aye aye."

Inner wall, L'Anguille

Taubert de L`Anguille had always known that the Navy was not good for anything, that their guns were an affront to the Lady and would fail in the end. And now the proof for all of that was right before his eyes. The great chain that had cost more than a castle to forge and a squadron of knights to keep up had been cut like so much cloth. The tower that greeted all visitors to L`Anguille with guns blown to bits. And now the ships that had hid in his harbor opened fire on these strange ships. Flame, smoke and fury rose to the heavens, multiple splashes rose all around them. Sparks on the ships seemed to indicate hits, but that was all that happened. There was simply nothing else to show that the navy had any effect at all.

What the enemy was about was not clear at all. He had fired his cannons a couple of times, with hardly more result than the galleons had. They had driven through the harbor bay in a curve that would bring them alongside the galleons at 50 meters or so soon. What he was about to do then escaped Taubert. And he was still wondering when the roar could be heard by everyone. A strange roar, the only sound he could remember close was a dragon he had seen in his youth. And to his horror the leading ship projected a stream of liquid fire that spanned the distance to the Royal warships. A stream of fire that set aflame anything it touched, a flame that even burned on water and that clung to anything it was directed at.

The Royal galleons were made from dried wood, well ventilated by gunports and grating, sealed by pitch and driven by ropes dipped in the same. They were an arsonist`s dream and attacked by a ship that breathed fire like a dragon. Just that it did not stop to do so. The stream of fire would play along one ship, setting it ablaze before it went for the next one.

Before Taubert`s very eyes the pride of the Breton fleet vanished in a bonfire the realm had never seen. Sailors jumped from the ships, some aflame, others still uninjured despite being unable to swim. Burning men ran for a few meters before succumbing to the conflagration. A few, so very few, tried to douse the flame and even from here L'Anguille's ruler could see it was an impossible task.

The Baron stood transfixed for the very few minutes the Rebels needed to incinerate the ships that had dominated the harbor only a few hours ago. And there was nothing anybody could do to stop it. Taubert waited for the next atrocity the three strange ships might accomplish only to see them leaving the harbor propelled by the same fell powers that had brought them in. There were a few splashes from the guns on the far side of the harbor entrance which did again nothing. L'Anguille's ruler realized he had never seen a single enemy, just their machines. He still mused if this was a sign that the Rebels were cowards when disaster struck.

Like her squadron-mates the Galleon Couronne had a full magazine that contained several tons of black powder. It was below the waterline, so the conflagration had taken its time to reach it. When it did the reaction was immediate and disastrous. Like a volcano shown in fast forward there was an eruption that threw the Galleons innards all over creation. As she was moored next to the merchant quarters a lot of the burning remains dropped right into it. Several fires started nearly immediately and while the citizens still tried to organize firefighting the next Galleon went up with equal fury.

Burning pieces of rigging went right through roofs, burning sailcloth laid itself above wooden structures like a funeral cloth. A wave of fire spread along the front row of houses along the quay like a surf of death. These houses were often warehouses or used to store merchandise. Lots of that was flammable as well and so destruction multiplied with every passing second.

Taubert de L'Anguille had hated the city for its narrow, twisting passages and now found another, more rational, reason for his hate. The fire that started to spread had no natural barriers, no firebreaks that might slow it. The city`s firefighters had been organized around the Brethren of the Lighthouse, an organization Taubert had gutted mercilessly. He could only watch helplessly while the last part of his fiefdom was consumed in an orgy of destruction. He watched the citizens try to flee from the conflagration and knew there was only one way out for them. That was right through the very gates that barred the Rebels from gaining entry.

The baron was frozen till his seneschal asked for direction. He needed a minute still to make up his mind. To his credit he gave the order to open the gates, he could not bring himself to signal a surrender. Instead he led the few troops available in a sally that ended about as well as one could imagine.

Behind him chaos reigned. The temperatures inside the city quickly rose to the point where even breathing was deadly. Panic gripped all but a few and the citizens tried to flee in two directions. Some made it to the piers where nothing burned. Others threw themselves into the waters whether they could swim or not. Most tried to leave through the city gates. They opened far too late and by the time they did a lethal traffic jam had developed. People were crammed so tight that they could not move even when the way was finally clear. Anybody who fell was trampled to death, anybody who stayed was immolated or breathed a deadly dose of smoke. Within two hours eight out of ten citizens of LÀnguille were dead or wished they were.

Haltdorf, Empire

Farmer Eberhard`s table was a quiet one. This was the hardest part of the year, with the first crops to be harvested and stored. The fields had to be prepared for the next crop, the equipment had to be maintained. All children in the household were helping as well, school was out for the time being. Everybody was either on the field as long as the sun was up or doing chores on the farm itself. Even Oliver, the youngest, had to tend to the animals that lived inside the farm. The Eberhard family mostly sold rape, wheat and corn. That did not mean they did not have a few chickens, a cow and a sow with her piglets.

They had all this marvelous new equipment that made the work so much easier. The tractor, reaper, baler and their new thresher made it possible to farm so much more. It did not mean that farming was an easy job. There was a huge pan of pan-fried potatoes, bacon and eggs between them and there was beer for everybody. The good teacher spoke against that, at least for the kids, but some days it was simply necessary. The lack of conversation was simply due to exhaustion and the rest of the week was not getting any better.

The Eberhards retired early, being too knackered for anything else. The farmer was about to douse the petroleum flame when he had another look at his bedroom. Simply the fact that there was a separate bedroom for him and his wife was a miracle. But an honest-to-Sigmar bed with a real mattress and a separate bed for Oliver. And the taste in his mouth reminded him that he had eaten meat, on an ordinary day of the week. Hard work or no, he had it made.

L'Anguille, Bretonia

The fire had been so intense that it had triggered the infrared sensors of no less than two satellites. A recce Tornado had made a quick run a few hours later. The Breton ambassador was informed, not asked, that the Reiksbund would render assistance. That the aid would come under the auspices of the Sisterhood of Shallya smoothed all feathers before they could become seriously ruffled. A number of airships converged on the stricken city, the frigate "Altdorf" and a German destroyer arrived a day later. By that time the Rebels were doing their level best to help the survivors even when they were clearly overwhelmed. Their efforts were valuable, especially as the survivors had lost literally everything but the clothes on their backs.

Nobody could prevent that pictures would be taken and they were a study in horror. The dead had shrunken to black stick figures, caricatures of humans pulled into fetal positions. Men, women and children, soldiers, sailors or civilians all had been killed equally. The town had only a few houses still standing and the few people who could tell what had happened had a terrible tale to tell. It made the news in Germany within hours.

Pariser Platz, Breton Embassy, Berlin

The Marquis de Roque looked at his visitor with disgust.

"How can you say this is great news Herr Gerstorff? This is a tragedy of epic proportions. Thousands have lost their lives, nearly as many will be crippled and even more have lost their hearth and home. And we have not spoken yet about the fact that we have lost LÀnguille to the Rebels. I do not think they will have much use of the place, but it is one less thorn in their side. The troops that laid siege to the town can now be used against us in other places. This is hardly "great news."
"Yes, yes, please accept my condolences for your losses and all that. But, can`t you see the opening this gives us?"
"No, I do not."
"Last week we saw the first news that the "report" from Tancred Castle was a, well let`s call a reenactment by your niece. If nothing would have happened this would have blown up in your face badly. Now we have something far more interesting. The media will go for it as it makes for far bigger viewing figures and as the thing with your niece makes them look negligent as well. Now the Rebels wrestle with the tar baby and now you have the opening needed to clear your image. It will be easy if you convince your King to do this little thing."

"And that might be?"
"Have the Red Cross run the fortified villages. Try to clear them up a bit before you do."
"And how is this going to help?"
"The Red Cross will feed your serfs better than anybody can, especially the Rebels. They will have no more reason to run. And if the Red Cross feeds them all they produce can be used by your armies."
"Why would they do that?"
"Because this is what they do, they feed the hungry and heal the sick."
"And that will clear our image?"
"Maybe you need to have a propaganda trial or two for some poor schmuck to convince everybody that you really mean it. Have King Leoncour discover the evil done in his name and all that, that will help for sure."

"And the Germans will believe that?"
"They will want to believe that. They do not want another war."
"If this gets me rid of that mob before my Embassy I`ll give it a try for sure."
"You do that. Otherwise by this time next year the Reiksbund will intervene in your war, if you are lucky. If you are not they`ll just give some cast-off weapons and training to the Rebels, maybe some advisors. Then I will insist to be paid up front."
"Merde!"

Before Artois Castle, Bretonia

The pages before Andy Thrope were a wild mix. Some were parchment and the letters on them written by quill. Others were the back side of used copy papers and ball pens had scribbled something on it. Most were printouts from one of the two printers his army had brought with them.

He read through readiness reports, scanned inventories and had a look at after-action reports. He jotted down notes on a legal pad at his side in a handwriting that had deteriorated noticeably during the campaign. There were still scribes enough who could make heads or tails from them and made legible orders for his units to carry out. This took most of Andy`s days these days, which also held beauties like staff meetings and trying to keep the disparate elements of his army working together. He had known before that he would not make rousing speeches all day before heroically leading a charge. But this was the office job from hell. And while he had enough people who knew which end of the pike was the pointy one he would kill for a few more capable staff members.

The next issue that came up was really important, so he needed to pay attention. The water purification tablets were running low, as was the bleach used to treat the local excuse for drinking water. That meant cooking all drinking water, which meant more fuel. So parties to get firewood had to be increased and additional patrols detailed to protect them. Uff, where to pull the warm bodies from?

Winkler apartment, Berlin

It was rather late and watching a political talk show was not designed to relax Ralf Winkler to the point where going to bed would make sense. Today`s topic promised to be rather controversial, it interested him enough that he would probably OD on coffee tomorrow.

The introduction features a short video and several stills of hell. This particular hell had been known as L´Anguille about a fortnight ago, now it was a desolation. A typical Bretonian town, with very small alleys and densely packed wooden houses it had been a conflagration waiting to happen. There had been a rather large match thrown into this mess, in the shape of at least two exploding Breton galleons. Having fires breaking out all over the harbor district at the same time and barring the usual escape route due to the siege had elevated the disaster into a different category. Knowing that it was a man-made disaster due to the Rebel attack on these ships made the picture before the medic`s eyes so much worse. And they hardly needed any amplification. Only a few houses were still standing and even these were mostly empty shells, reminders of the edifices that once housed people. There were many stick-like figures lying around, distorted into fetal shapes and of children size. Flesh had burned away cloth and skin, exposing grueling smiles from exposed teeth and empty eye sockets. A few survivors walked aimlessly through the horror and their eyes seemed as devoid of life as the ruins around them.

The talk shows participants were effected deeply by this, even in various ways. Maybrit Illner`s face could have been cut from stone and her voice was more hoarse than usual. Petra Pau of "Die Linke" looked as enraged as did the Marquis de Rocque, the Breton Royal ambassador. Marcel Petain was officially heading the biggest agency that helped Breton refugees and rumored to have a leading position in the Underground Railroad. Admiral (ret.) Lerbs was seen on the silver screen from time to time these days.

The introduction video wound down and Maybrit Illner steeped a bit forward.

"A fortnight ago L`Anguillle was a thriving town housing about 25.000 held by the Royal government. Now the relief agencies on the spot state that more than half of the citizens died and that less than a quarter of the housing is still in a usable state. The Rebels have taken what is left of L`Anguille. We are now here to discuss whether this was a tragedy which happens in war or if this was a desired result."
"This was the desired result of Rebel action. This is not an accident, not a tragedy. This is what the Rebels are about. The heroic defenders of L`Anguille have been a thorn in the Rebels sie ever since this misbegotten Rebellion started. They were not able to overcome the stout walls and the brave defenders, so they burnt the town down. And the Rebels do not regret the deaths of so many innocents, they wanted it exactly like that. They need example of what will happen to those who resist their agenda."

"This is a lie Ambassador and you know it. Yes, the Rebels attacked, but they attacked a military target." Marcel Petain wedged himself into something that was probably going to be a larger rant.
"You admit the Rebels attacked then. And with what, with a flamethrower, a weapon designed to horribly kill with pain and leave all survivors scarred for life. And they attacked ships helplessly moored next to a city full of civilians. With a weapon that was surely supplied by Germans."
"Unlikely Ambassador. Germany does not use or produce flamethrowers at this scale, actually we use them less these days. We have other options. While this is is non-trivial such a weapon can be built from commonly available parts."

Admiral Lerbs` voice was still so that nobody would interrupt him.

"You still gave those Rebels the ideas. The ideas that they should rise up, that they should sever bounds forged by the gods themselves thousands of years ago. The Rebels got the notion they would be better off if they kill, rape and maim their own countrymen they would better off. And even you so-called civilian technology gives them the means to kill the innocents."
"The serfs needed no German to see that the "bonds forged by the gods" were forged around their necks. You so-called nobles made so very sure they`d never forget them. You starved the very people who grew your food, you raped whom you wanted to and you wanted to be admired for it. Oh no, the serfs knew well enough whose boot was placed on their necks and pushed their way into the dirt. They just have now the means to do something about it."

"What do you know about the serf`s lives Petain? We protected them, we gave them peace and order."
"And took away everything else, starting with dignity and freedom."
"So that gives them the right to burn the innocent?"
"That gives them the right to fight for their rights."
"This is our doing, this is what Germany has done to this world. We inject ideas and concepts into cultures which do not need them. We give them the motivation to fight, we give them the means and we do not accept responsibility for these mistakes."

Petra Pau managed to get something in when both opponents drew breath.

"Bollocks. This world has not known peace for millenia, the historians still try to find a period of time when there was no major war going on on this blighted planet. Yes, Germans have given some factions better weapons. To some willingly like the Dawi, to some unwilling like the Druchii or the Chaos Dwarfs. They help creating havoc, that is for sure, but that is no prerequisite to a bloodbath if you really want one. The genocide in Ruanda killed half a million people in a few weeks and all it took were lots of hate, strong arms and machetes. And I can assure you that this world has no shortage of any of these."
"You are the one to talk Admiral. What you did to Hag Graef was nearly as bad as what happened in L`Anguille.

"We did not target any civilian structures except for government installations. We were also a bit more discriminatory in our choice of weapons, so there were no large-scale conflagrations aside from the harbor quarters. And given what these damned slavers did to their victims I do not regret any of it."
"And while you did it you killed lots of slaves. What did they ever do to Germany."
"We did not target slave quarters and actually rescued more than 4000 slaves. With the forces at hand we could not do more and a message needed to be sent. It worked, there have been no more Papenburgs"
"And you believe the Rebels did the same?"
"No Frau Pau, I do not.."

"Yes, that was exactly what the Rebels did. They sent a message of terror. This is what they want to say to the world: Surrender or burn."
"I smell bullshit ambassador. Whoever tied these ships up directly across the harbor quarters was either a fool or a coward."
"What how can you say so? How can you besmirch our valiant soldiers?"
"Wooden ships burn from time to time. Armed wooden ships tend to explode when they burn. Your navy fought a battle where exactly that happened a few months ago. And somebody moored these ships next to a part of the town which would burn best. So either he was a bleeding idiot or he wanted to protect these ships by making them too close to civilians to attack. The latter is known as the "human shield" defense and now very well regarded."

"I cannot speak for Taubert de L`Anguille who died defending his realm, he will have had his reasons. But it was the Rebels who attacked the ships and destroyed the city."
"They attacked a valid military target."
"They are no recognized army, they are traitors and bandids..

Things did not improve from that point and Ralf switched the TV off soon afterward. He came away from the discussion with a distinct "a pox on both of your houses" feeling and he certainly was not alone in that.