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=} Rescue of the Inventionis {=
3+ 2 = 1?
"Enemy ships on Port side above ship, 55 Degree Elevation – matching our full speed and getting ready to overturn us, Sir.", the voice cracked as it carried the message, not just because of the icy air that was entering the bridge through the hole that had been blasted into the glass copula that once gave a clear view of the Inventionis path, or because of the oxygen mask that was covering the lips of the speaker, but because the only people left alive to crew the observation posts and the recon bell on the belly of the airship, were the youngest midshipman, children who had been posted here for a peaceful chance to learn their chosen craft. Now the adults of their posts lay dead, some blasted apart by shrapnel from falling bombs – others turned into sieves by the machinegun fire that had raked over the once pristine blue and pearl surface of the research vessel. The captain was dead, his XO had died an hour later after a boarding party of the Blutsauger had found their way onto the bridge and the trail of corpses, both scarlet and blue, left testament to the sacrifices the onboard security had given to retake the command centre of the ship.
Even so the bridge was in a bad state, acting-captain First Lt. Lhis, could only try to fly in ever tighter turns, while his remaining pilot tried to steer the ship with only one of the usually paired control stations, letting it bob up and down, like a skipping stone thrown across a pond. The engines were trailing smoke from where one of the boarding harpoons had pierced the central axis, before being cut by the remaining crew and fires had broken out on the upper decks, beginning to nibble away on the once pristine hull, slowly exposing the floatstone core that ran through the ship and kept it aloft.
"Sir – temperature around our floatstones is rising, the cooling system on deck four and five were compromised, heat is building up and we are losing in height.", came the terse voice of the chief engineer, the direct sound-powered telephone one of the few connections the bridge still had, aside from the old pneumatic system that still went to half the stations. The bridge crew that should have been at least 12 people large normally, had shrunken down to only five – including pilot and captain- and the death long since outnumbered the living in these corridors. As if to mock their valiant effort, another boom resounded through the air that whipped into their faces and the whole ship shuddered as another round from the beasts ships tore into its port-side, tearing open the flank and exposing the rookery and blueprint section, blowing out paper and birds together with splinters and glimmers.
"Guns on deck four and five at Port-Quarter are failing to answer, we are sending runners but they seem to have been hit by the enemy. Ammunition is cooking off in at least one place and we are losing in speed: they must have gotten one of the Diesel engines, sir!", everyone on the bridge could see the blinking lights on the control, switching from Red to purple, only half-power remaining as the Inventionis tried to drag itself away from its hunters. With a small buzzling sound the radio sparked to life again, the bulky apparatus having gotten more than one splinter into its sensitive innards when the crew had to use grenades to take back the bridge – but these were military grade instruments and enough of them had survived to continue running. The communication officer gave a small thumbs up, rubbing the blood out of his face from an ugly slash above his cheek, narrowly having missed his left eye. Without missing a beat the captain stood up and hailed the surviving fighters of their escorts….if any of them had survived the last minutes of radio silence.
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Their last refuelling had been some time ago, not too long ago that they were in danger of falling down any moment, but long ago enough that they would have to come up with one plan or another how to get more fuel into their machines, with the link of the Inventionis having been blown apart and any other attempt of landing on the airship and in the ruined hangar, being downright suicidal – not that jumping down into the ocean was any better option. Of the wing that had been once tasked with protecting the Inventionis and the scout craft attached to it, only one of the experienced pilots and the two rookies who had been stationed on it as scouts had survived. 2nd Lieutenant Derringer hadn't expected to end up in command, but by the virtue of still being alive, he had the say about all remaining aerial assets of the research ship, even if those were his own nearly broken machines and the two inexperienced newbies command had found too troublesome for a more straightforward combat detachment. Tilting his head as the radio came to live again, he listened to the message of the captain, before switching to the channels connecting him with Stitch and Bishop.
"Blue One – Blue Two!", he called out, his voice set and determined as he continued: "The captain has informed us that one of the enemy ships is closing in for boarding again and that they need us to buy the Inventionis time to repair their engines and gain enough speed to throw the enemies harpoons of track. Ready for strafing attack – now. Follow me! Attack the enemy Starboard Bow. We go for the closer fellow, ignore their sistership., he ordered and turned up his engines, giving the two of you only a moment to react and speed after him, before he already broke out of the sparse cloud cover you had used to hide in after the last enemies sortie against you.
The sky was blue – and filled with death, the moment you showed yourself again, the enemy fighters pursued you once more, the three of you small blue dots, surrounding and hunted by at least a dozen crimson read bogeys, their engines clattering loudly and their machine guns opening up shortly before the ships AA turned to meet your attack head-on. The space around you filled up with bullets and explosions, shrapnel's scraping the paint of the fluttering pearl and the Shroud disappeared in its namesake for a moment, the glass of the cockpit the only thing that saved Dawson from being torn apart by dozens of small metal pieces a close by flak shot send into his direction.
Even Derringer could see that this was going to be suicide and even as he pushed his machine faster and faster, the enemy ship had already gotten into range and fired a harpoon the size of a man towards your mothership, piercing its flanks and rearing it in, like a fisher would do a monster of the sea. It was too late – not only for the Inventionis, but also for you as Derringers cry of:
"Break off! Break of--!", resounded for a terrible moment, before his plane turned into nothing more than a quickly expanding ball of fire, his fuselage having been hit and his ammunition having gone off in the same moment, deafening those too close to it – but also pressing all planes away by the force of its detonation, even rocking the airship as the two of you pulled away, hounded by the beasts, whose rust-red warbirds were after you, hunting you with delight and relish, able to bring you down with numbers, even if your machines were better than theirs…
….and then shots came from above, perforating the wings of the first pursuer and sending it careering off into the ocean, its wingmates trying to bail off to the side as more shots found their target and the force chasing you had to break off as two wings of warbirds descended from above, their machines guns firing freely into the routing enemy as they tried to reform around their airships. Before your eyes two wings of Patrol warbirds tore into the unaware enemy, their guns blazing and their targets falling as your radio's sparked to life and a woman's stern voice called through the sound of a running machinegun:
"This is Major Strindt of the DOP Vessel Zephyr, we are engaging the enemy, following the heading 35 Degree upwards and head South-West. Our carrier should be visible in a moment and awaiting you for refuelling and rearming – if you are not wounded, join the third wing under Flight Lieutenant Hagi."
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Even from the hangar once could see the bustle of the crew as the Zephyr entered battle, the tall long guns above and below the hangar deck, unfurling and shifting to aim towards the distant enemy, the gunnery crews performing last minute directions and preparing tools and ammunition from the ammunition bunkers. At a sign from the central fire control the turrets let loose, ammunition flying through the air, striking clouds and booming past warbirds, before impacting the enemy vessels, breaking through armour and wood, before detonating in their innards. Even on the inside of the ship you could hear the explosions thundering through the distant sky, the scream of shells racing back towards the Zephyr and only falling just a few dozen meters short: the technological gap was showing and today it was mercifully on your side.
The third wing of the Zephyr could only watch as two blue painted warbirds, that didn't belong to either of the two other wings, nearly crashed into the hangar, before the hooks and the webbings caught up to them, stopping them even as their landing gear left skid marks on the floor. Wendigo was already moving over to them, the Flight Lieutenant getting into a loud exchange with the deck crew, before shoving them to the side with surprising strength and simply jumping onto the planes, looking down into quickly opened cockpit and calling out loudly:
"Flight Lt. Hagi, call me Wendigo. We are getting ready to launch, techs will have you refuelled and rearmed in a bit, not to the top, but as you seem to have some left, that should work. Change to our radio and get ready."
Repeating that with the second plane as well, she ran towards her own warbird, a streamlined silver machine that was armed with heavy machine guns and a few racks of bombs, more suited for dogfights than anything else – but not without some force if she needed to get through a hard target. Jumping into her seat, she turned on the Radio to get all other warbirds onto the line, giving the waiting crew a thumbs up as the hangar gates were beginning to open once more, the distant thunder of explosions turning louder, the pressure pressing down on your ears and mouths opening subconsciously as the blue sky with its few white clouds was exposed…
…and the burning ship you were here to rescue, the first two wings who were flying around it like a protective net of dots that were busy defending themselves against the rust-red bandits around them, tracers firing through the air and bombs dropping on machine guns, as the two enemy airships tried to present their armoured sides to the Zephyr, their own smaller and older batteries opening up fire as the Patrol moved into full battle:
"Ready for launch, wing three and auxiliaries, follow me!", the Lt. cried out as her warbird was pushed forward, the hooks on their landing gear fastened to quickly moving tracks that catapulted her out of the hangar and towards the enemy, her battle cry resounding over the radio as you saw her the liveliest you had ever seen her so far!
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