Site Alpha, Kislev
The waters below the tug's keel were roiled in strange ways, but whoever saw them would attest that great power was used to push a great deal of water backward quickly. No matter whether Earth or the Warhammer World, Sir Isaac Newton rules and equal and opposite force was created. It was transmitted through a handful of of hefty steel cables into something which had to be an ice cliff as it towered above the two high-seas tugs. The cables rose as the pull lifted their considerable weight, they drew taut and hummed with tension. Apart from that simply nothing happened.
For many seconds the Sea of Claws was punished without any discernible results before Leviathan moved the first millimeters. With a speed that could be measured in centimeters per minute at first and with increasing speed when even more effort was put into it. The cables went a bit slack when the ice ship reached walking speed. Many eyes watched the giant's progress, none more so than a pair of eyes on the bridge. This evolution was very much out of his depth and would crown his achievements. There was much which could go wrong and little he could do to affect that outcome. While the two high-seas tugs had power enough to pull the ice ship from its dock they were not enough to stabilize it.
After consulting with the tug crews Jacub General had substituted the tugs he did not have with the heaviest construction machines. And while some of the machines looked quite substantial when one was close, they seemed like mere gnats when compared to Leviathan. One bulldozer had already balanced on one set of tracks before coming down again, something that raised the pulse of everybody nearby considerably. By now it seemed that things would indeed work out without killing everybody, but Jacub only dared to breathe again when all ersatz tugs had discarded their cables without accident.
His pulse promptly rose again when the prevailing wind pushed the ice ship's rear closer to the cofferdam's remains only to see Leviathan avoid collision by a few meters. The tugs managed to bring the ship into the bay where the huge anchors were dropped. Jacub was ignorant enough of naval matters to worry about them being dragged through the sea floor and switched on his wireless. Time to call the tugs and abuse them.
"Klauensee, Nordsee, good job. Take up your positions at the stern at your earliest convenience."
"Thanks Leviathan, we aim to please. May I add that I still believe this is a bad idea?"
"You may Nordsee, we will still do it."
"This type of ship is called "tug" for a reason, you know."
"And it will be known as "Engine Nordsee" as long as Leviathan needs it."
"Or our contract runs out."
"At the very least until our ice mage unfreezes your ship, captain."
"Just tell her to be careful."
"I will. She has icy fingers though."
"Don't they all. Nordsee out."
Placing the microphone back in its cradle Jacub General found himself sagging into his chair. Leviathan would have something like engines before the day was out when Valera froze the two tugs into the niches formed for them in the rear. With 50,000 horsepower combined it would be rather underpowered, but nobody was expecting her to break any speed records any time soon. Despite all the odds it looked like he would finish the job soon. Maybe tomorrow he would feel elated about that, now he was just bone-tired.
Kharond Kar
Kharond Khar had been an example of Druchii aesthetics two years ago. Slender towers, high walls, arching bridges plus lots of blades and spikes. It was an architecture to impress, to frighten and easy to defend. It had withstood many an assault and siege in the past and the slaver harbor had been a tough nut to crack. That was, as long as the battles followed the old rules and used the old toys. These were the new and improved times, where killing and destruction had been elevated from an art form to an industrial enterprise. Kharond Kar had suffered badly from it. The survivors of the once affluent and energetic slave traders were now trying their best not to be noticed by their new masters. Rags had replaced robes, gruel served instead of delicacies and scars marred ivory skin.
The town had suffered a similar fate as the DawiZharr had remade it in their image. The new times called for very different defenses, for low emplacements and sunken bunkers instead of high walls and towers. Barbed wire replaced elegant blades and spikes, high walls were demolished and replaced by earthen embankments. Like with Kharond Kar's inhabitants the change was not one for the good. It was an ugly place rotting fast. Its ugliness could not hold a candle to the two ships that emerged from the Underground Sea.
Dunes 250 km from Zuwarrah, Araby
Most of the great deserts on Earth are not filled with endless sand dunes, most of them have a hard-packed surface littered with rocks. The Warhammer World was no different and the landscape around James Andrea Corradi bore testimony to that.
There was no shadow to be had as the sun burned vertically down. There were some softly undulating hills, more rocks than anybody could count and two very different groups of beings facing each other. Usually nobody sane would be around at this time of the day, the beings which met in the middle of the hot desert had no choice in the matter, something huge was coming their way.
The two groups were both human, but there were few other things they had in common. One group had arrived on horseback, bearing loose robes and lots of weapons with sharp edges. The other was clad in high-tech cloth and armor, had arrived in several armed trucks and brought enough firepower to decide a major engagement.
Their leader stepped forward and pulled down the only piece of gear both groups shared, a colorful cloth that covered mouth and nose, in preparation for a formal greeting.
"Salam aleikum"
„Aleikum asalam"
James Corradi thought this a bit funny, as "peace with you" was not what anybody associated with the Araby tribes that roamed these parts of the desert. On the other hand, they might value peace as they had so little of it. They were mostly traders and connected the settlements around the oases that dotted the inhospitable lands and the harbors. Their young men considered kidnapping and horse-stealing from the "soft" farmers and city dwellers an initiation ritual. Their elders reinforced that notion by ignoring even the most obvious evidence of such crimes. What they could not ignore were the punishment expeditions that the city states sent to the desert at times. Given that the nomads had no cities one could besiege or fields one could burn such expeditions had manageable consequences for the tribes.
Until the Legion arrived and the Desert Rats entered stage left, that had put a serious crimp into the tribes' lifestyle. No longer could they disappear into the desert, faster than any pursuit. No longer could they take an oasis or raid a harbor with little or no warning. And if it came to a fight their sabers, bows and lances were no longer cutting it. The Legion should have had no truck in the raids, but Zuwarrah was one of this world's major shipping ports for crude oil. That and the fact that the sultan of Zuwarrah was to be kept fat and happy counted, as did the fact that the tribes had kidnapped "brides". Especially the latter had gone down like a lead balloon with the legionaries and the young warriors of two tribes had simply vanished. Ever since then the tribes' elders listened when the Legion's senior noncom asked nicely for a meeting.
Corradi dropped into the somewhat awkward seating position favored by the tribes, indicating where his guests were to sit. They followed a fashionable few seconds later, indicating they were willing to listen first.
"Welcome honorable Aziz and thank you for accepting my invitation. May you and your people live a thousand years."
"We are honored by your invitation mighty Corradi and would be curs to refuse such an honor. Your invitation is made so much more enticing as we are at a loss for its purpose. You surely will not accuse us of following our old customs again?"
"No honorable Aziz, I will not and I am not aware of any such transgressions. Today is the day where we are talking about rights of passage."
"What rights of passage. This is the desert, it is like the sea. But for a few places you go where the gods lead you."
"Yes, this is so wise Aziz. And still one hears of caravans that cross the desert. Some meet other travelers of the desert and share a meal or a word to the wise. Others are asked nicely to part with their wares for no costs. Still others nobody hears about again. We wish that such meetings are of the first kind, but not the others."
"As do we all."
"Yes, and in recognition of the tribes having such laudable goals we wish to donate an artesian well to each of the tribes."
"I have heard of such devices, what magic is in them?"
"None, just drilling a lot deeper than you could with your tools in the right place and applying old-fashioned gravity. We'd throw in some storage tanks as well. It would give you water where none was before, making your trade routes so much shorter and safer. Especially for those tribes on horseback this must be a boon."
"Camels are surely the get of the Fell Gods, we'd never touch them. Yes, wells in the desert would be a valuable gift and the tribes would thank you for them a hundred times. Yet, would these caravans of your not need our help and guidance?"
"They need you to keep out of their way, they are not what you expect."
"So, what are they…..."
The tribesmen all stopped whatever small movements they made and went silent.
"Honorable Aziz?"
"Silence warrior. Something huge is coming our way, the ground trembles beneath it. Maybe the Undead make their way."
"I don't think so. The caravan should pass any minute."
"What kind of caravan…."
That was when the first car crested the hill line before the assembly. It was higher than an ordinary truck, and certainly broader. The six wheels that bore it over the terrain were the height of an ordinary truck and did not sink into the ground much. The car pulled a trailer of the same size and that was followed by more and more of them. The first car reached the hill's bottom before the last trailer finally made it over the top. Like a snake it undulated between those few rocky outcroppings that would stop it. Every trailer turned the same way in the same place as its predecessor, so close that it barely left the trail made by the wheels that came before. The first car sported a set of windows as did the last one. A couple of trailers and both the leading and the trailing cars had boxes with barrels on top. The remote-controlled weapon stations looked small only when compared to the whole vehicle, none present doubted that they had more than enough firepower to take care of whatever this desert might throw at it."
"That, honorable Aziz, is a new Overland Train. It is as strong as 25,000 horses and this one should be 200 meters long. The train can carry more than thousands of horses and is faster than them. It is the first we have in Araby, but there are others in Kislev and elsewhere. Now that we have to supply more and more outposts in this desert, from exploratory drill sites to scientific endeavors. Supplying these is very expensive by air and we would need to send many a truck. This is far faster and cheaper."
"This thing must be magic, but is it tame?"
"I hear the engines are made by the Gold Order, so this should be Light Side magic. The rest is a great lot of electronics and hydraulics."
"So, more magic then.."
The noncom shrugged his shoulders.
"If you want to call it that. This train would go through the desert once a week or so. The owners of so many new oases would not need to bother these, would they? "No, they would not. Especially as those who build these miraculous wells would know exactly where to find them, wouldn't they?"
"They better, in case they need repair. Do we have an agreement honorable Aziz?"
"That we do James Andrea Corradi of the Foreign Legion, that we do."
Leviathan, moored before Site Alpha, Kislev
The room was marked "Cargo Hold 1" and would be full of containers, stacked two high, in many rows in two weeks. It was as basic as it got with a simple wooden floor and harsh electric lights.
It was also a cathedral of ice, white, pure and deadly if not respected. Additional lights had been brought in for today and it made the walls and ceiling shine like so many diamonds. Long tables lined the floor, offering a space for everybody who worked on this ice ship, for their relatives, their spouses and those who made their money serving them. It was quite a crowd and still they would not fill the room if they trebled in number.
A number of portable heaters made sure the crowd would remain warm enough to enjoy the food and company. And while the red faced indicated that the liquid refreshments had already made the rounds they all listened to Oleg.
The Kislevite seemed larger than life when he stood on a chair and lifted a tankard to the icy ceiling.
"So folks, did we build this ship as our Boyar asked Does it swim, is it able to cross the Great Ocean? Will it be a home for thousands?"
"Da"
Jacub would have taken a step back if he had not been sitting. A few thousand voices have a power of their own when they shout in unison. The crowd did just that, no matter whether Kislevite woodworker or German heavy equipment operator.
"Did we do it in time allotted to us?"
"Da"
"Did our Boyar challenge us, as it is his right and proper?"
"Da"
"Did he show us how to build this monster of the sea, the biggest ship anybody has ever built in two worlds?"
"Da"
"Did he give us the means to do our jobs?"
"Da"
"Did he clothe and feed us, did he make sure our sick were healed?"
"Da"
"Did he care for us?"
"Da"
"Did he give us a proper future?"
"Da"
"Jacub Stephanovic, you are no Kislevite. But you were a Boyar to us, a good and proper one. And for all that you miss something. A Boyar must have his livery collar, so everybody may know his station. So, you do not go naked we have made you a livery collar, so that all know that you are our Boyar and will be for all time.."
And with that the huge foreman pulled out a chain made from stainless steel. It consisted on (of not on) plates held together by rings. Each plate was engraved with something that Jacub took to be scroll-work and that turned out to be names. Lots and lots of names, the names of everybody present.
And speaking of lots there was more. Lots of drinks, lots of food, slapping of shoulders and having photos taken with crews, families and kids.
And finally, a dizzy Jacub General could sit down and wonder. He'd done his part, far more than anybody could have expected from a junior engineer.
"So, what will the mighty Boyar do now?"
Valera Morosov had surprised him again, something not so hard given the noise level of the feast.
"You mean after getting rid of that hangover that I see in my immediate future? Making sure that everything is sewn tight and write as much documentation as I can until the crew and the main body of those mercs arrive. Then I fly home and ...I have no idea. Something will come up and boiling squigleather gloves it will not be."
"Boiling squigleather..what well, whatever. So, you can stop doing one more thing."
"And that would be?"
"Caring about us uncouth Kislevites and the poor poor Ice Mage that was forced to try some potions that did not have official approval by her weakness."
"Was it that bad?"
"No, not really. You got the job done and all of us have something to look forward to."
"You look forward to going to war?"
"Oh, I will have lots of deadly soldiers around me, don't you worry. It will be interesting."
"Have all the fun you can get then."
"Lets see about that. And Jacub?"
"Yes?"
"Spasibo Jacub Stephanovic. Thank you for trusting me, even when you thought I did not know what I was doing. Thanks for making it happen, I will take good care of this Leviathan for you."
"You are welcome to it Valera."
Her parting kiss was chastely on his forehead and still managed to surprise him completely.
"Soon you can care about somebody else."
