Post by UmbraSight on Oct 31, 2021 3:39:10 GMT
Pregnant drops splattered onto the Audacious’ scuffed wooden deck, it collected in crevices and ran in streams as the ship rocked with the swell. Hunched against the driving rain, seamen went about their tasks, a miserable lookout scanning the sky, a group of crewmen below checking rigging on cargo, while gunners were at station inspecting their weapons. A tune he knew enough to hum along to, but in the wrong language.
But ships were all like that, sea or sky. Different tempos sure, but always recognizable.
Shit, maybe he could still cut it as a poet.
He stood half-hunched against the wind, heavy drops pelting his back, braced against the smooth outer wall of the command bridge. He squinted into a pair of binoculars at a dark splotch in the distance. A lieutenant with a temperament suited for the sea stood to his left, a short stocky man with thin blond hair plastered to his scalp and a wispy pencil scratch of a mustache. The distant ship rose with the swell, and for a breath it was in sharp focus. The flat top he had expected, but there was something else in the silhouette that made him frown.
“Brass says she’ll revolutionize war, but I’ve my doubts, no disrespect. Couldn’t hit half our shells if not for you flyboys calling them, but I don’t see how Argus’ll beat the utility of a sixteener.” The lieutenant called over the cut of the wind. Vincent’s brow furrowed. He pulled the binoculars from his eyes and turned his attention to the lieutenant.
“Is that a merchant liner?” He asked. The man laughed, deep and thick, as he clasped Vincent’s shoulder. That seemed an answer enough.
“The future of the sea.” He said. To his left an ensign, looking thoroughly miserable, waved his arm to catch the attention of the two men.
“The softwing’s ready on the catapult, capt’n.” The young man said. Vincent’s gaze flicked down to the churning sea. Black waters topped by froth broke against the railing below. Hell of a way to start.
“Don’t worry none, we’ll treat you right. Sending you with one of our best softwings. Though you already know that much.” The lieutenant said. Vincent offered up a grunt as he took a step off the wall. He paused and looked back.
“Keep your boots above water, yeah.” Vincent said.
“Keep your head in the clouds yank.” The other man grinned before motioning with his chin, “don’t dally, you’ll make our timetable more of a mess.” With a chuckle Vincent turned and followed the ensign. The younger man made a brisk pace on the slick surface, either keen to go back inside or simply used to these conditions. Vincent kept a hand on the guardrail and did his best to keep up.
“Argus telegraphed; your team’s boarded the ship.” The ensign said. “The skyrunner’ll be loaded by the time you hit deck side.”
But ships were all like that, sea or sky. Different tempos sure, but always recognizable.
Shit, maybe he could still cut it as a poet.
He stood half-hunched against the wind, heavy drops pelting his back, braced against the smooth outer wall of the command bridge. He squinted into a pair of binoculars at a dark splotch in the distance. A lieutenant with a temperament suited for the sea stood to his left, a short stocky man with thin blond hair plastered to his scalp and a wispy pencil scratch of a mustache. The distant ship rose with the swell, and for a breath it was in sharp focus. The flat top he had expected, but there was something else in the silhouette that made him frown.
“Brass says she’ll revolutionize war, but I’ve my doubts, no disrespect. Couldn’t hit half our shells if not for you flyboys calling them, but I don’t see how Argus’ll beat the utility of a sixteener.” The lieutenant called over the cut of the wind. Vincent’s brow furrowed. He pulled the binoculars from his eyes and turned his attention to the lieutenant.
“Is that a merchant liner?” He asked. The man laughed, deep and thick, as he clasped Vincent’s shoulder. That seemed an answer enough.
“The future of the sea.” He said. To his left an ensign, looking thoroughly miserable, waved his arm to catch the attention of the two men.
“The softwing’s ready on the catapult, capt’n.” The young man said. Vincent’s gaze flicked down to the churning sea. Black waters topped by froth broke against the railing below. Hell of a way to start.
“Don’t worry none, we’ll treat you right. Sending you with one of our best softwings. Though you already know that much.” The lieutenant said. Vincent offered up a grunt as he took a step off the wall. He paused and looked back.
“Keep your boots above water, yeah.” Vincent said.
“Keep your head in the clouds yank.” The other man grinned before motioning with his chin, “don’t dally, you’ll make our timetable more of a mess.” With a chuckle Vincent turned and followed the ensign. The younger man made a brisk pace on the slick surface, either keen to go back inside or simply used to these conditions. Vincent kept a hand on the guardrail and did his best to keep up.
“Argus telegraphed; your team’s boarded the ship.” The ensign said. “The skyrunner’ll be loaded by the time you hit deck side.”
