The New World

[MWBailey]

"Well, then, let's see aboot gettin' ahold o' one, shall we?"

Fergus led the way to the gangway from the control car of the Caroline across teh gangway to the Raptor, and from there to the cargo bay of the Raptor, where they were jopined by six members of teh Raptor's cre2w, armed with lever-action rifles and truncheons. "These lads'll stand around th' edges an' keep the rubber-necks'n spalpeens an' bystanders clear," Fergus said, as they all boarded a small MOFF-bouyed skiff, and the bo's'n of the Raptor, a fellow named Mitterand, piloted the ship down to the ground.

" Number One's been told to radio in a notice about your -all's sparring', Herr Cap'n, Miss Isa, Mitterand said, "So zhe offloadink troops don't try to march ofer us vhilst ye two *ahem*, dance, shall ve say..."

As the Bo's'n spoke, one could see the troopships and other vessels bob down, march the soldiers off, then bob back up again like coriander seeds in a glass of soda. Once on the ground, whole platoons and companies marched past the perimeter set up by the Raptor's crewfolk on guard duty, occasionally hooting at the small party befor e their sergeants and lieutenants barked their warnings and restored order in the ranks as they marched past.

Fergus raised his voice to be heard across th wide and long expanse staked out by the sentries, over the noise of the passing troops, "Roight, now, lass, just ignore all them idjits, and throw yer webs at me, try 'n cover me up, now...

[Stella Gaslight]

Isa carefully removed her gloves and tucked them in to her belt so they wouldn't get lost.  She could almost feel the webbing in her fingers throb along with the beating of her heart.  It pooled in her hands with a different constancy than normal more elastic and fluid. She feigned left then shot to the right hurling the substance at Fergus' feet causing one of them to be bound firm to the ground while she tried to tangle him up in gossamer.

[The Corsair]

-Nigel-

The Demologos II had fled into the outskirts of New York where a firefight was too risky. However, much to Nigel's surprise it didn;t try to fire on anything. He ordered his fleet to slow down and wait, making no active moves to pursue or engage. If the ship was going to run away, he was going to let it. After all, it had plowed straight through the Virginian Air Navy with minimal damage, clearly it had several tricks up its sleeve.

As time passed, his growing suspicion that the Demologos II was fleeing was proven correct and the ship, seeing that nothing was attempting to engage it, turned tail and accelerated away further north. Those states were largely abandoned now, save for the lone residents of Boston whom Mark Peitersen was tending to. He decided to hurry off to the Aetherradio terminal and send a message to Mark warning him not to engage the Demologos.

[MWBailey]

'Bella caught up with Burns as he strode off. "It's no trouble, Mr. Burns," she said, "I can take you to the fort; I'm heading there myself, in fact. Captain, now Commodore, Garrow probably will not be at the fort but on the flagship. You'll have to make your own appointment to see him, though; I have to go and pick up Isa, and then take command of my Platoon." She led the way to the airbike, and handed him the spare helmet. "Hold on tight around my waist, Sir, I don't have a rear belt, yet." She said as they lifted off and moved out toward the new airfield.

[The Corsair]

Falko didn't really fancy being dead for a second time that day so he continued forcing more strength out from whatever wellspring it came from and spun his body wildly sideways as a last-second attempt at avoiding being burned alive. It was successful, but he felt bones cracking as he collided with a combination of bricks and pavement, feeling flames lick his right side.
He forced himself up as quickly as he could and limped his way clear of the blaze, often having to pass dangerously close to burning buildings as the fire spread faster than he could move. The direction he traveled was not away from the hangar, it was directly toward it. If there was any information about their enemy, it was there.

-Rosie-

Rosie felt clever. Resoundingly clever. So clever, in fact, that she let herself a small smile as she floated away off the Roxanne in a standard scouting ship. She would be detected, but she would be one step ahead of any pursuers. Something in Falko's disappearance in the explosion, and she knew it was merely a disappearance, had sparked in her some development in her powers, similar to those already enjoyed multiple times by the others. She found she was now able to sort through the barrage of information pouring into her mind. She knew who was thinking what and could focus on that which concerned her and block all the rest out. It was by this that she knew Falko was alive somewhere. His thoughts were faint, so he was either far away or close to death, but in either case she could find him. The explosion from the hangar had made her only more sure he was alive. He had done it, he must have, no malfunction could cause that much damage.
Stealing the airship had been something of a challenge, but one easily overcome. She had acted plainly hysterical. No soldier was prepared to be around her and soon she found herself left entirely alone in her given quarters with no-one watching the room. Off she went to the hangar, able to hide well in advance of any roving airmen, scouring the minds of those who entered the hangar before her to find out how it was secured. Breaking in was in many ways easier than flying the ship, which even then was easy.

She drifted as low as she could over the burning city, avoiding the major infernos and letting the ship be pushed up by thermals before forcing it back down once it was possible. Now, she approached the hangar. Falko's thinking was to find information and for him that meant reaching the hangar. The ship drifted to a halt and dropped softly on to the ground. She stepped out, shut the door and leaned on the side of the gondola, smiling as she saw her lover make his way clear of the blazing wrecks of houses. The last thing she was letting him do in this state was carry on his reckless battle. She forced him in to the scout ship and instructed him to fly up to the Roxanne. She knew what his plan had been and how he wished to execute it, she could do it herself.

[MWBailey]

Fergus looked down at his feet, wondering how far to with this young lady; he decided to only hold back so much as to be able to keep from harming her or keep her from harming him. He looked up and smiled at Isa, then tightened hid =s leg muscles, felling the heat buikld, and then relaeased them the way he had when he blasted back up to the Raptior from a flat-foote dstance to the ground. The heat and flames drupted around his feet, and he soared upward on a twin pillar of fire, turnede a somersault, and landed on his feet several yards closer to Isa. "Alroight, now, try an' deflect me flames!"  he called out, and thrust his right fist at her, then his left, the punches turning into fireballs that streaked across the intervening distance like miniature meteors...

[Stella Gaslight]

The heat was sudden and almost made her stumble.  He was flying, like some mad phoenix. Watching him using his powers so naturally made her feel leagues better about hers.  Isa grinned and then stretched webbing between her hands as the fireballs bore down on her.  She thought about playing catch with her brothers and the one time she truly beaten them at athleticism. The webbing made something like a glove around her hands.  Isa knocked the first fireball out to the left causing some of the watchers to scramble out of its way shouting.  The second one she launched herself forward and caught.  She could only hold it for a moment because the webbing was already starting to burn and it smelled strangely sweet.  Using her best pitchers form she tossed the ball back at him. It took most of her make shift glove with it smoking and sending off droplets of flaming web.  "Catch!" she called out watching the fire ball fly.

[MWBailey]

Fergus chuckled. This lass has some spunk and a bit o' potential, he thought. "Oho!" he shouted, rejuvenating the fireball with more flames, "So, ye think ye're tha' good, d'ye? Well, less play catch, then! Comin' atcha!" and with that threw the fireball back again. "Can ye make a bat? Like Mr. Doubleday's?"

[Stella Gaslight]

"Perhaps." Isa said with a grin mashing lumps of web in to something that would resemble a bat if you were blind and had a very loose idea of what a bat should be.  As bulbous and short as it was it connected but the ball stuck fast and soon the bat was on fire. Isa flung it aside not sure of what else to do with it.  She flung her own ball back at him and it broke like an egg splashing him with sticky strands. "Good luck flinging that back at me." 

[MWBailey]

Fergus thought back to that first day and night, when everything he touched either started to smoke or just burst into spontaneous flame. Soon, all of the strands were smoking or alight, and dropping off of his person. He bent down and scooped up the remnant and made it into a lumpy misshapen ball, and lobbed it in Isa's direction. "There ye go!" he called, adn followed it by wovig in closer and swinging at her with a long, thin lance of what appeared to be flame and superheated energy plasma. "Try an' block it!" he said loudly. If ye kin catch an' deflect th' fireballs, an' make a club li' that, then you sh'ld be able ter bat this aside 's well!"

[Stella Gaslight]

A shield just like a knight in a fairy tail, that was what she needed. Isa put her hands together and let both her hands form a membrane that inflated like a soap bubble then hardened when exposed to air making a dome. She used it to stop the lance from burning in to her shoulder.  It sizzled and stunk but it held against his blow and allowed her to trust forward and get in closer and try a blade of her own.  The web made for a very sharp very brittle blade.

[MWBailey]

"Good! Ye're learnin'!" Fergus said. "Now, I'll harden mine up a wee bit as well, and we can do a bit o' swordplay." He poured more power into the fireblade, picked up a chunk of stone that lay at his feet, and melted it to magma, using it to bolster the supply of plasma, and then reached into a part of himself that was not exactly a place, and not exactly anywhere, but a little to spinwards of Over There. The blade ofr his weapon changed from a mass of flaming plasma to a bar of white heat, and he began to thrust , parry and riposte with Isa slowly at first, letting her set the pace. He increased speed when she applied more force or speed or both to her attacks, and soon they were a blur of heat and cold and smoke and motion. Teh passing troops watched them instead of where they were going, and got tangled up with each other, and soon there was a hooting, whooping crowd with sergeants alternately whooping it up themselves or caterwauling and shoving their units back into line and forcving them to keep moving.

"Yeah, that's it! give 'im a whallop!"

"What are you, lettin' a girl whip you?! Git at 'er!"

"Wipe th' field wit' 'im kid!"

[Stella Gaslight]

She pulled blade after blade each one lasting a little longer, each one a little more true.  Isa had little practice with a blade before this but she was being honed just like her blades. At first she was afraid of hurting Fergus both because he seemed like a kind man and because she didn't want Bella to get in trouble but she started to feel a give and take between them that pushed her forward.  Soon she was trying fancy little strikes and grinning from ear to ear.  "I have you now I think." She said holding her blade to his neck and panting.

[MWBailey]

Fergus just got a quirky smile and somehow maqnaged to fade away to the side, away from the blade. In place of his neck there suddenly appeared the flame-blade, which sliced through the web-blade as Fergus swept her feet out from under her with his legs, to the disapproving roar of the crowd. "Never let yer guard down, lass, or some bastard who's meaner'n me'll take yer 'ead!" He extended his hand to her to help her up. "I usually tollchock the recruit what makes 'at mistake, but I'll not do that to ye -- this toime."

[Stella Gaslight]

"Ooof you hit like a horse Mr Fergus." Isa said dusting herself off and discovering she was a little wobbly but proud.  "I think Miss Bella will be happy I can hold my own even if it is only for a few moments."  She grinned.  "Can you teach me that fancy swish that almost got me in the shoulder? That was very flash."

[MWBailey]

"Oh, aye, tis nought but a parry-and-riposte variation what me regimental commander taught me a while back," Fergus answered. "For now, though, let's see about gettin' a spot o' grub. I'm starvin, 'ow about you?"

[Stella Gaslight]

"Oh yes please.  I have been so long without regular meals I rather forget to eat sometimes."  She hoped Miss Bella had enough to eat as well and Isa realized it was rather nice to have a friend to worry about.

[MWBailey]

'Bella dropped Burns off at the Administrative Building of the Fort, a huge log-and-shaped-rubble thing, with a variety of roofing treatments; some were tent roofs, some corbeled stone and rubblem, some shingle, and some were just dirt and gravel piled on top of boxy bunker-like forms. The whole thing together looked impregnable, with guns sticking out at strategic points and walls everywhere.  "You need to go to that desk over there," she said when they had gained admittance within doors, "and talk to the duty sergeant." She left him there and went to report to the Commandant, one Colonel Ambrose Pierce. She had heard of the man, but had never met him. Supposedly he was a fair man, and the sort of commander whom soldiers would go to hell and back for. She was ushered into the Colonel's office. "Lieutenant Arabella Jiroux, Aerial Courier Corps, reporting, sir!"

"At ease, Lieutenant. You're a bit late, but no matter at present. SERGEANT!"

"SIR!" came the stour reply from the outer office.

"Escort the Lieutenant out back and introduce her to Dock Sergeant Crespo and her new command." He eyed Jiroux. "I've heard all sorts of good things about you, Lieutenant, and some rather disturbing things, too. I hear you're a devil of a fighter; That will probably come in handy in this outfit. We're not just a garrison; most of us will be accompanying the fleet when we move on the enemy." He nodded to the sergeant.

"Yes Sir! This way if'n ya please, Lieutenant.

'Bella followed the sergeant through the maze of corridoers and assembly and duty rooms, out through the back gate of the building, adn to Dock C, one of several newly-constructed airdocks for smallcraft. "I don't think I caught the name, sergeant...?" she prompted.

"Micklan, Ma'am. Technical Sergeant Albert Micklan. I'm the Colonel's Sergeant of Orderlies. Not his Secretary, that's Lieutenant Muckleroy. Here we are, Lieutenant Jiroux, Ma'am, Dock C." They stood before a combination of timbers and canvas, like a giant garrison bivouac with a false front complete with sliding doors and a two-tier airdock inside. the oblong shapes of three small gunship-type airships could be seen tethered to their own individual masts in the yellow light that filtered through the canvas, and rows of all sorts of smaller craft both hovering beside and resting on the docks inside. "This is where Fourth Company's ships and transports dock. I believe the colonel's ordered your bike transferred here... ah." The distinctive sound of a MOFF steam-electric airbike came from overhead, as the shunt-jockey brought it in to land just inside the towering doorway. Other such structures stood a short distance away. "YO! MILHOUSE! FLAGG!

"WHAT! Did the old man blow a gasket're somethin-- Er." A Sergeant in the khakis and forage cap of the Virginian Air Corps shouted back as he emerged from a small tent-and-timber office just inside of the right side of the doorway, then froze, snapped to attention, and bellowed, "MILHOUSE! GET THE UNIT OUT 'ERE ON THE DOUBLE! THE L.T.'s HERE!' Welcome ta 4th Company, Ma'am," the segeant, obviously Flagg, said. "Permission ta fetch th' second L.T.?"

"Granted, Sergeant," Bella said, in a very serious voice.

---------------------------
Fergus motioned to one of the guards, and the fellow aethered the Raptor. a railinged platform descended from the hold doors above, suspended from a heavy line attached to the hold's crane."Shall we?" Fergus accepted the ship phone from the platform's operator, and requested a meal for himself and Isa, in teh Officer's Mess. "And send word of our doin's tae Miss Bella, if'n ye will, " he added.

[Ella, Aerial Musketeer]

“Well” Ela said tapping her wings “im gona need a really good spanner, water and a small brass plate. I have everything else I need. Ela hesitated. “Umm also I need to find Hugo and tell him what’s going on” She looked Kyle in the eyes “can you get the stuff I need and I will be back before you know it.” with that Ela lifted her wings on to her back and ran into the shelter almost at once she ran into one of the doctors “please Sir” Ela said in a rush “can you help me find my friend? His name is Hugo he was brought here by a girl with wings... by me so umm please help me find him? Its really important that I tell him what’s happing” The doctor looked at Ela in astonishment “I told your friend he was free to go but I can show you to were he was” Ela’s jaw dropped “Hugo.... he left?” “Yes” the doctor said “his injures were not to bad after everything he had been thro and he seemed to be a quick healer so we discharged him” Ela winced at the word discharged and then hesitated for a moment “please can you take me to were he was?” I need to know if he left anything.” “Certainly” the doctor said follow me please” the doctor quickly led Ela to the room were Hugo had been. The doctor turned and left Ela at the doorway saying he had work to do. Ela stepped over the threshold and into the room the hurry disappeared from her step and worry creased her brow. As she stepped into the room she saw a scrap of white paper flutter to the floor she crossed the room and picked it up. ‘Don’t find me I will find you’ it read “well” said Ela looking around “at least you went with out struggle” Ela stuff the note into one of her many pockets and ran thro the hospital back to Kyle.

“Well” Ela said “did you get my things"

[MWBailey]

'Bella surveyed the three ranks of ten men and women each, gathered before her. She'd heard of the new 'recon' companies that were being cobbled together from the disparate unit remnants left over after the Black Fleet battle, and those individuals who volunteered or had otherwise been 'convinced' to join up since. The Courier Corps had used these companies on a sort of 'liaison' basis for several months. By and large, they did fine, and in some cases even better than the original Corps had before the Black Fleet debacle, but they still tended to be a motley lot, and the 4th was no exception. At least they all wore the same uniform with standard cleated boots and forage caps with airmen's chinstraps; whoever had been placed in charge of the unit's chandlery and quartermaster duties had done well on that account... except that by either choice or accident two or three of the women filled out their uniforms a bit too well, so to speak. They were all a bit scruffy, but recon units that were worth their salt tended to be that way. 

The weapons...well, everyone sported at least one converted Walker Colt like hers, apparently right down to the snap-in cylinders, and they all had the standard COVAS cutlass, but that was where the standardization went out the window. Two women and three men, apparently zeppelin crew, carried various makes and configurations of rotary-barrelled gatling-type repeating guns. Some were of the short-barrelled, eggbeater-like personal gatlings so beloved by mercs, two were of the four-barrelled wind-up Piltdown Arms variety, and there were one each of a Lewis, Maxim, and Vickers machineguns.

One stocky, muscular young fellow cradled a Greener shell gun in is arms, and wore a bandolier of ten or more rounds for it, crossed over a similar bandolier with what looked like at least a hundred rounds for the Colt at his hip, with spare cylinders for same in cartridge pouches on the gunbelt. Almost all of them had some kind of backup pistol or weapon in at least one boot-top, and several had one in each. One or three seemed to have something there besides guns. One fellow had two laquered black handles of some sort protruding from the left inside boot top, and another, an asian-looking fellow, sported a khukri, of all things, the scabbard stuck under the belt in front. The rear rank consisted of what looked like a rifle squad. A closer look revealed their 'cutlasses' to in fact be longbladed sword bayonets.

"Sergeant... Flagg?," Bella said sotto voce to the NCO standing beside her.

"Ma'am?"

"Isn't this unit a bit large for a Lieutenant?"

"Officers of your experience level're hard to come by just now, Ma'am," Flagg answered."No matter what rank they actually are. The Recon Corp's commander, Colonel Jakes, has a company everybody thinks is too small for her, but she does have the rest of us under her as well. All of us have at least two armed packet zeppelins for both deliveries and field missions. We have each of us a rifle squad (they act as marines when we need 'em to), two zeppelin crews who also serve as Direct Fire Support when needed, adn the rest are what pass for aerial troopers." His voic eturned slightly wry and more than a bit cynical, "They keeps tellin' us the 'troopers' 'll all get new mounts of the same make and model, but they been sayin' that for six months, now. Somethin' tells me the new mounts'll be here just about the time they furlough us after this war's over." He brightened a bit. "At least we get all the spare parts we need, even if we do have to finagle 'em, once in a while."

The 2nd Lieutenant reported for duty, then. "2nd Lieutenant Michael Murphy, reporting for duty, SIR-uh-MA'AM!" he snapped off a near-perfect salute. Bella almost expected his hand to go 'Whoosh' as it cut the air.

"At ease, Lieutenant. lets get the evening's patrol mounted up and ready, Miste rMurphy, I'd like to accompany them, get a feel for their style."

"AYE MA'AM! COURIER SQUAD ONE, PROCEED TO DOCK! Sergeant Flagg, fall the rest out.

"AYE!"

The hangar was suddenly a beehive of scrambling activityu as the Dusk Patrol prepared to head out...

[Cpt Wallace]

He found his way to the Duty Sergeant leaning on the desk with one hand he looked into the man's eyes.

"I'd like to make an appointment to see Commodore Garrow, I'd like to sign up but there are extenuating circumstances that the commanding officer needs to be aware of."

He straightened and dusted off the uniform under his long coat.

"I'm happy to wait."

[MWBailey]

"What, just outta th' blue, you want ta see th' Commodore?" The sergeant said, somewhat incredulously. Well, first, you've got to give me your particulars. Can't have every sharp-dressed fellow just come in and see the top Brass. Who  are ya? What's your experience? What uniform's that? What ex-tin-yoo-ate-in'  circumwhatevers're you talkin' about? Are you volunteerin', or are ye pitchin' fer a contract?"The sergeant got out a fresh sheet of paper and made several notes, and then looked expectantly at Mr. Burns.

[The Corsair]

-Nigel-

Garrow aboard the Implacable was already hot on the Demologos II's aerial heels. They were now well out of New York state, desperately trying to make emergency repairs and squeeze more and more power out of the Dreadnought's engines. Already they were approaching the limit of Sykes' aetherradio's range. If the Demologos II didn't stop somewhere within a few hours they would lose it completely until it was ready to attack with all of its technological might.

[MWBailey]

Hildebrandt was furious. "What do you mean, you can't find the stowaway!?" His face snarled disturbingly likethat of a wild beast. Comm can hear him plainly on the higher Military frequencies." There was nothing else for it, apparently. He pulled up the tube to the Engineerinhg section, and blew in. The Chief answered. "Chief, we're reyturning to to maximum possible speed."

"This close to the ground, it'll be hard to navigate around things at that speed."

"I'm taking her up to ceiling altitude."

"Beggin' the cap'n's pardon, but don't forget the local and canadian ranges, Cap'n," the Nav officer, seated nearby, reminded him. "Ceiling's low this time of year."

"Don't I know it, Nav boy. They'll have the same difficulties." He smiled a grim, predatory smile. "All ahead full, Helm, and up to one thousand. Let's see if Garrow and company can thread a mountain needle..."

[Cpt Wallace]

He smiled as he leant down on the table.

"I am Captain Burns, formerly of the British 11th Windwalkers Regiment."

He looked the man in the eyes boring into him with a cold hard stare.

"Now Sergeant as I am a senior British officer I think I need to speak to one of your Senior officers, I have a particular set of skills that make me very useful against airships, and as you're commodore is currently hunting a rogue airship, I think I maybe able to help."