Chương 69: Chapter Sixty Nine

"What a load of bollocks," Olzenya muttered as the princess's speech finished from her position on the Jellyfish's command chair – having given the order for them to launch Corsairs mere minutes ago. William didn't disagree. Even while trying to extort her fellow countrymen in a feigned heartfelt plea to join her little band of traitors, the princess still managed to sound unbearably above it all. Well, at least now we know why she was back in the city, he thought. And how the North is justifying their attack.

They had a princess in their corner – and through it a semi-legitimate reason for rebelling. Still, annoying as that was, he couldn't help grinning. Because this whole situation was perfect. He grabbed the radio.

"Trojan Horse. Start advancing now. Full speed." The radio crackled, the slightly muffled sound of one of Yelena's royal guards coming through.

"Say again, Command Two? Advance?" William nodded, repeating, "Advance. Full speed. Then evacuate as planned." There was a pause, long enough for him to get a little worried, before his radio chirped again.

"… Confirmed, Command Two. Ship advancing." William didn't like the delay there. The guardswoman had likely been getting confirmation from 'Command One' before she moved. He also noted that she'd not confirmed that she was planning to evacuate either. Which meant his orders could yet theoretically be reversed. At great personal risk to the guardswoman in question. He sighed as he stood at the railing of the Jellyfish's bridge – ignoring the looks he was getting from Olzenya in the command throne.

This was at least part of why he would have preferred to make this whole thing radio controlled. Unfortunately, while he could accomplish a lot with his tech, he couldn't perform 'magic'. And unfortunately for him a mithril core did require a mage to be present if it was going to keep producing aether.

Less so than a Shard core, which would shut off after eight minutes without prompting, but a full sized ship core would still only continue working for a few hours before it needed to once more be prompted to work by a mage. And unfortunately for him, no one had known when the attack would start, which meant Yelena's chosen bodyguard had been sitting in the Trojan's Horse engine room in a diving suit all night - hooked up to the mother of all oxygen tanks.

Fortunately she only needed to be close to the core to activate it, rather than actively touching the thing. Because that would have required some part of her skin be bare – and the stuff she was currently literally swimming in would do nasty things to living flesh with enough exposure. He grabbed the radio again as he watched the undership keep flying towards the enemy fleet.

"Admiral Tyana, if you would please order the fleet to arc some shots towards our 'defecting ship'?"

"I-" The voice returned, the woman on the other end likely thrown off guard by the presence of her sister and the sudden advance of the lynchpin of their plan.

"Are you insane? You're asking us to shoot at that thing!? This wasn't the plan!" William shrugged.

"This is the new plan. The better plan. One only possible thanks to your sister's rather inane plea for us all to go traitor. Alas, one of our ships has clearly taken up her offer and now needs to be brought down before it can join with our enemies." A muffled sound of frustration came through the line." Lord Redwater. Boy. You realize one of our ships breaking ranks might well have encouraged others to do the same? You could have just started a full scale defection in our ranks amongst the…

weaker willed part of the fleet." Huh, he supposed he might. It wasn't like the fleet knew about the plan – beyond the fact that they planned to retreat. And if that was going to happen, some ships would need to be part of a sacrificial rear-guard action. With that possibility in mind, he supposed it wasn't entirely impossible that Solanna's plea might have found fertile ground amidst some of the Royal Fleet. And by letting his ship 'go first', well, it might have encouraged others.

"I had total faith in the loyalty of our Royal Navy," he said eventually.

"I'm sure." Tyana sighed.

"And if a shot penetrates our defecting ship – over the capital?" He scoffed.

"It was originally an undership – and you saw how well armored they are. From this angle I consider it unlikely we'll be able to get any kind of penetration - just so long as you don't use any enchanted munitions." He watched as the 'Trojan Horse' continued flying towards the enemy fleet, the bulbous submarine shaped vessel chugging along under the power of its two side mounted propellers. Not terribly fast though - which made sense given just how weighed down it was. Tyana continued.

"…My sister is aboard one of those Northern ships. I know my own feelings on what I want to do about that traitor, but at least I need to get confirmation from-""Do as he asks," Yelena's voice came over the line – the woman choosing to remain silent until now.

"She's chosen her side. At least now we know why Blackstone and New Haven always seemed to know what was going on in the palace. Your sister must have had contacts amongst the staff." Despite her blasé words, there was no missing the… sadness in Yelena's voice. Tyana didn't verbally respond, but in mere seconds a series of flags were raised on the hull of her command ship and the Royal Fleet opened fire at their 'traitorous ally'.

Again, fortunately the well-armored undership had been given enough time to get some range, and most Royal Navy ships had few if any front-facing cannons compared to their broadsides. He watched as cannon shots arced out and did relatively little beyond plink off the armored hull. At first. Because a few went for the obvious weak points of the propellers, and sure enough, one was quickly knocked out of commission. At a decent range at that. This book is hosted on another platform.

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"There's no denying that the Royal Navy's well drilled," he murmured. The Trojan Horse swerved slightly, thrown off course, and now practically drifting. …Two-thirds of the way to the enemy fleet. It was rather unfortunate that they'd not been able to communicate to the fleet for them to shoot, but only to make it look good. Fortunately, the ship had made it far enough for his needs – and was only drifting closer still as inertia carried it forward. It was… pretty much clear of the capital now.

"Come on, take the bait," William muttered as he stared at the motionless ships of the Northern fleet.

"That's an entirely new ship for you. With an entire core inside. Maybe even Shard cores as well. I know you have to want it. It'll even provide some legitimacy to your propped up idiot." The original plan had called for the Royal Fleet to retreat after exchanging a few shots while the Shards remained in close proximity rather than rushing ahead to clash between the fleets as was the norm – at which point the Trojan Horse was to suffer 'engine trouble' and fall behind once clear of the city.

At which point it would have been boarded in passing. This though? This was so much better and he watched with glee as the forward elements of both enemy fleets moved forward - clearly intending to wrap protectively around the 'defector' as they exchanged long-range cannon fire with the Royal Navy. It was all he could do not to dance about with glee as the battle started in earnest.

Tala stood and watched from aboard the Brimstone as the battle started, both fleets firing probing shots at each other. At this range, they were unlikely to accomplish much unless they got a lucky hit on the propellers. As had happened to the ship that had tried to defect from the Royal Navy. Even now, the forward elements of the Blackstone and New Haven Fleets were coming alongside and above it.

"Are you sure this is wise?" the young woman asked. Something was off. The Royal Navy were firing at the undership, but the Shards they had remained on standby, hovering around their own fleet in formation. It was for that reason that the Northern Fleets were doing likewise, not quite yet ready to make the first move in earnest.

"The princess is whining that she wants that ship," Eleanor Blackstone said casually from her position on the command throne.

"And I don't disagree. It's unexpected, but even one ship from the Royal Fleet defecting is a political boon for us." Tala understood that, she did, but something still felt strange to her.

"And the ship still hasn't communicated at all?" she asked. Even if it didn't have a communication orb aboard, there were still the signaling flags, but those remained steadfastly down. Her mother turned to eye her.

"Girl, there's every chance there's a mutiny going on aboard that vessel right now. I doubt the entire crew is onboard with this little loyalty shift. Void, I'd put even odds on the fact that two women are currently fighting to death on the comm station."

"I'd take those odds," the ship's XO murmured.

"I know you would, you reprobate." Elanore grinned at her old comrade in arms. Tala remained silent, staring out at the enemy formation that still refused to move even as it exchanged fire with the ships that had moved to escort the defector back towards the Northern formation. And she could see it. Easily amidst the more conventional designs. The Jellyfish. And the planes that had been launched from it – nearly thirty all told, ten more than the Brimstone, the pride of the Northern fleet – weren't hovering.

For some reason they were going in circles. Part of William's new 'aetherless' Shards, she thought. Solanna had spoken about them, but much like most of the information the milksop relayed, it was almost entirely bereft of actually useful intelligence. Unfortunately, their own contacts in the capital hadn't known much more. They did know that the Jellyfish had been instrumental in defeating the force that attacked the capital and that it had armaments capable of crippling the attacking ships.

Her mother claimed said attack had been a result of Yelena expending large amounts of her enchanted munition stockpile, but Tala was worried that her one time fiancée had- A thunderous roar shattered the air, the world tilting violently as a shockwave slammed into the Brimstone like the fist of an angry god. Tala was hurled backward, her body crashing against a brass railing with bone-jarring force.

Glass exploded inward from the bridge's forward windows, shards raining down like glittering knives as alarms blared to life across the command deck. She hit the deck hard, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth where she'd bitten her tongue. For a disorienting moment, everything was chaos - shouts, the groan of stressed metal, and the acrid scent of smoke and ozone.

"Status report!" Eleanor Blackstone's voice cut through the din like a whip, the Duchess already hauling herself up from her command throne, her face a mask of fury and focus. Tala likewise clambered to her feet, ignoring the protests of her bruised ribs, and staggered to the shattered viewport. What she saw made her blood run cold. The defector ship - the bulbous, armored hulk that had drifted so enticingly into their midst - was simply... gone.

Vanished in a plume of fire, debris and oily black smoke that hung in the air like a malevolent cloud. The vessels that had closed in to escort it, the forward elements of both the Blackstone and New Haven fleets, fared little better. Two were split open like overripe fruit, their hulls venting flames and aether as they listed drunkenly before plummeting toward the ground far below.

Others, slightly farther out, were scarred and smoking, their formations shattered - ships veering erratically to avoid collisions as the Shards scattered in panic. Tala reached up, rubbing at a sharp sting on her forehead, her fingers coming away slick with blood. She wiped it away with a snarl, her gaze lifting to the distant silhouette of the Jellyfish, still hovering smugly amid the Royal Fleet. Redwater, she thought. This was your doing, wasn't it!? She didn't know how, but she knew it was him.

It was just like… when the enchanting shed exploded the night before the match that had damn near ruined her life. As if on cue, the Royal Fleet began to pivot – and for a moment Tala feared they were going to attack their now disarrayed formation – but rather than advance, the enemy ships wheeled into a coordinated retreat southward.

"Mother," Tala said, turning to Eleanor, her voice steady despite the pounding in her skull.

"They're retreating."

"Aye," the woman grunted, eyes clear despite her own injuries as she listened to the steady stream of reports from her own comm officer.

"Even with this… most of our rear elements are fine. It'd be bloody, but we could still beat them." That made Tala's heart leap.

"Then should we pursue?" The Blackstone Duchess considered it for a few moments, before she cursed under her breath, a string of colorful oaths that would have made a dockside sailor blush.

"No," she spat finally.

"We stop here. Assess damage, make repairs. They get to escape today." Tala almost argued, before she found herself properly listening to the steady stream of reports from the rest of the fleet. Decent chunks of the fleet were untouched, but the most consistent damage being reported from those that weren't came from the side propellers. Which made a grim sort of sense. Unlike the armored hulls of the ship, the whirling blades responsible for propulsion were exposed and quite vulnerable.

Half the fleet would be limping now – if it could move all. Any kind of pursuit would risk the Royal Navy doubling back and picking them off piecemeal. No, her mother was right. They needed to stop and make repairs. Fortunately, the capital had the facilities they'd need to do exactly that – even if she was sure the Queen had attempted to scuttle them before her clearly planned exodus.

Rubbing more blood from her eyes, she cursed again, louder this time, and spun back to glare at the dwindling form of the Jellyfish on the horizon. They'd won the first round, but this war had only just begun – and eventually, William Redwater was going to run out of tricks. And when he did, Tala Blackstone would be there. With a sharp stick in hand and the will to use it.