The New World

[The Corsair]

There were things only some eyes could see. Often the only eyes that could see them were those engaged in the action by sheer force of biology. It was through this rare piece of circumstance that Falko came to be dead. Every pair of eyes saw the same things from different angles and experiences with different backdrops and different reactions but each and every one missed a tensing of muscles and release of others that could only have come from unnatural but convenient reflex.

It was now in Nashville, in the shadows on a small factory roof, that the unnatural and lucky man crouched, watching the black vessel that had minutes ago put his life in the most jeopardy it had ever been in, waiting until it reached its destination to regroup and recommence the attack. If this man was the Admiral in charge of some 3 full fleets of ships he was bound to have some small force available to him at all times. Perhaps, then, it was personal pride that had caused him to ignore the use of such force in his initial attack.

From shadow to shadow the young man shifted about, across rooftops where possible and on streets where necessary, until he saw a hangar on the far side of the city with a door being opened. Beside it was another, and another, and another larger one, more and more. It was most certainly not a small force, it was a considerable force, one to be reckoned with. However, this force had relied on it's staying a secret for survival, because now every ship was loading itself up with the kind of missile Falko Hendrick Hoogenboom had minutes ago learned how to detonate.

[MWBailey]

It was a huge hall; for such a gigantic edifice to have escaped one of the most dastardly attacks in history by a single vessel was nothing short of miraculous.  Its stonework was impeccable and its beauty indescribable.

No such flowery phrases had filled Fergus O'Flaherty's mind the first time he saw it, nor did they now. He was a smith and a carpenter by trade, and some would say, as rough as a cob in a barnyard. The words in his head at the moment were
1. Big. Really BIG.
2. I wonder if they know they've got woodworm in th' wainscoting?
3. I wonder how Falko and the rest are doin' right now? I wonder if their bloody backs itch loik mine in this flamin' monkey suit?
4. Hurry the hell up and let's get a fleet taegither, the Black Admiral's bound tae be back soon! besides, I need tae visit the loo...

The legislature had already been in emergency session when the Demologos attacked; that was doubtless one reason for the attack, looking back on it objectively.

"Well, then" The speaker was saying, "by a vote of two-thirds of the  majority of the Emergency Session of the Legislature of the Commonwealth of Virginia, we ratify the resolution to assemble and put at the disposal of Captain Fergus Flaherty, the United states Navy,  and Falko's Specials, a fleet of twenty aerial warships (the figure was actually roughly two-thirds of the number remaining to the COV), to be accompanied by twelve thousand troops and support units, including one-third of the remnant of our courier corps to be used both for their original purpose, and as combat units to take the battle to the enemy...

A short day later, Fergus fidgeted as he watched the panoply and spectacle of the loading of the troops and equipment on said warships.

"Well, let's hope that New York and Falko're glad to see our ships, Captain," The Speaker, a Mr. Grover, said as they watched the process. Every few minutes, a dreadnought or lighter-classed ship would descend to the tarmac of the aerodrome's staging area, and an entire regimental block of soldiery would right face and forward march toward said ship, then blocks, then companies,  would stop and mark time as the platoons marched aboard, got themselves sorted and sent to the berths, and leftthe hold of the ship clear for the next platoon. Similar methods were applied to materiel and suppost units, and by the evening of the day when Bella chased the Demologos across the ruins of New York City, Fergus' fleet was ready to depart for that same city...

[Blindwalker]

He got up. First thing he noticed was that his leg didn't hurt anymore. Next thing he knew was that Ella wasn't sitting in the chair near him. He pulled off the sheets and saw his chest lined with bandages.
A doctor came into the room, and quickly glanced over the papers on the clipboard. He looked up to Hugo.
"Alright, you're good to go. Leave when you're ready."
"Thanks, Doc." Hugo said, raising a hand in acknowledgement.
The doctor grinned back. "Not at all." He carried the clipboard with him and walked out.
Hugo climbed out of the bed. His vest from the Army was taken away. Apart from a war medal signifying this post rank of a Senior Officer. There was a worn-out mercenary shirt left behind by... who knows. He pulled it on and if fit nicely, even though it was a size big. He inspected the shirt carefully, going opening the pockets on the arms and the one on the left breast for any clue of who might have left it behind. There was one note and a map in the left arm pocket.
A canvas map of the immediate area around him, with small colored dots and crosses carefully scribed on it.
The note read:

                    we have eyes
                    we have ears
                    we know who You are
                    you Need Help
                    you need power
                    you Need Back Up
                   
                    Go where Your Eyes Go

Hugo read through the strange and cryptic note several times, then turned it over.

Nothing.

He looked at the map again. Blue dots covered doors to certain shops and emergency services. Red crosses highlighted tall buildings. Several purple dots covered small, out of the way hatches to underground waterways and large buildings with basements. Black crosses showed strong, reinforced and barricaded buildings.

He decided to head towards one of the purple dots, very close by. A hatch to a waterway.
Before he left, he thought of Ella and anyone else trying to find him. He took out out a stubble of a pencil and scribbled untidily on a piece of paper:
         
                      To anyone trying to find me, you won't be able to. I'll find you. Hugo.

Hugo placed it on the foot of the bed, then picked up his guns and ammo, then exited the now quiet building.

[Cpt Wallace]

A crowd was gathering, word had spread like wild fire of his arrival and they' come braving the desolation of New York, they were withered beings hungry, maimed and sickly but worst of all they were desperate they pushed and pulled one another shouting their pleas to him as he worked away at the carcasses stripping their skins with deft skill. He'd taken up residence in a burned out shell of a building that still had it's four walls more or less in tact, he'd used the scorched floor board from the first and second floors to erect a table to work on, he'd placed some board over the large hole that now served as the only entrance so he could work in peace. He glanced up at the half dozen hanging deer he'd already skinned and then at the five other carcasses he had remaining another deer and four large wild dogs, he'd been amazed to find the deer so close to the ruins of New York he'd been careful to leave the buck alive to father more in the next spring but the doe's had been impressive enough they had been fat with plenty of meat on them, plenty enough to go around, the dogs however were less impressive skinny as the survivors the meat would be tough and stringy but they were plentiful in the city now and he'd left dozens of traps to lure them in.

The shouting outside changed in tempo and his eyes drifted to the boards blocking the entrance, the pleas for food had transformed to shouts of alarm and muted panic, turning he laid the skinning knife down on the bloody table and strode to bowl of water dipping his hands he rinsed the gore from them before wiping them dry and turning towards his door as it was kicked in by a pair of burly men in torn and dirty military uniforms they had weapons out once carried a rifle bayonet fitted while the other had a short sabre in his hand. They advanced into the room deliberatly putting themselves between him and the rifle resting against the opposite corner a shorter man followed them in dressed in pinstriped clothing he doffed a battered hat from his head.

"Sir."

He nodded in reply heading back to the table he drove a hook into the flesh of the doe and hung it with the others.

"You have some fine meat sir, I'd very much like to buy it from you."

He paused before dragging one of the dogs to the table speaking as he rested it upon the wood, his voice carried the accent of a scot though it was not heavy or slurred more a twang to his voice that marked him as not being English.

"They're not for sale, not to the likes of you anyway."

The man smarted and looked over his shoulder.

"And you think the rabble out there can pay for your meat?"

"Not everything is valued in coin mister?"

"You can call me Smith."

"Can I now, well mister Smith this aint for you, now if you'd be so kind take ye thugs and git."

He turned to the dog and picked up his skinning knife.

"You know Mister Smith it's a funny thing, you see had your boys there had any bullets I think you'd have just sent them in tay kill me. I reckon they're deserters cut off from their supply lines and don't have any equipment other that what they got right now. Unlike me."

He turned levelling his pistol squarely at Smith's head, Smith's hands flashed up in an instant understanding his life hung in the balance.

"Now git."

He nodded to his thugs and they backed out of the room.

"This isn't over Mister Burns, we'll speak again."

"I count on it Smith, next time I'll let this do the speaking."

He waved his pistol as Smith vanished he shouted after them.

"The rest of you come on in, nice and orderly there is plenty to go around!"

Slowly the survivors filed into the room, each got a single cut of meat wrapped in scraps of paper Burns had collected during his time hunting the outskirts of the city, they were old news sheets, letters, posters and notices anything he could salvage, few spoke to him as he handed them their meat save to thank him before scurrying he continued like this him handing out meat his revolver in plain sight as he worked.

[MWBailey]

The cook in the Military District Shelterwrung her hands; there were only enough soupbons and breadstuffs to last ofr a week, and winter was not even kalfway along yet. Sooner or later, someone would have to make a donation of  supplies, or the shelte rstaff would have to scrape together enough to buy the same.

'Bella heard the commotion and decided to rise from hers and Isa's pallets. Or she tried to, at any rate. 

"Isa. Isa? wake up, Isa, I need to go check on something, and we're all bound up again."

[Stella Gaslight]

Isa was dreaming of warmth and a full belly when 'Bella woke her up.  She tried to leap to her feet like she had on The Lime Cutter but she was stuck but to her embarrassment.  "I am sorry Miss 'Bella.  I didn't meant to."  She gathered another pile of silk blushing.  "Maybe if I can find some gloves it will help.  The ones I had fell off when the ship went down."  Isa was worried if she couldn't get this under control 'Bella was sure to not want to have a thing to do with her and without her help Isa would be lost in this new world.  Her stomach grumbled, It had been a long time since that apple.

[MWBailey]

"It's alright, Isa, let's just get this cleaned up. I think I can get you a pair at the quartermasters, or there's the chandlery shop over on 33rd, so they tell me." it was amazing to Bella, but this town had actually managed to clear off many of the old streets, and even a semblance of traffic and legitimate (as well as illegitimate) commerce were beginning to assert themselves. There came a rumbling grumble form Isa's side of the pallets, and Bella smiled and chuckled. "Sounds like you and me both're gettin' hungry, girl. Lets go see what the cook has for a mornin' meal, huh?"

They joined the general press of people looking for belly padding and trooped into the kitchen/dining area. Simple bowls of oatmeal, with weak tea, made up the morning repast. there was a taste as if the oatmeal had been boiled with a scrap of bacon, which took the edge off of the cereal's usual blandness. After they had eaten, the cook took 'Bella aside and asked her if she could run a few errands. "I wouldn't normally ask such a thing, but I hear tell such a bad crowd keeps showin' up at this feller's place, maybe somebody well-armed and in a uniform might be able to make a difference and get us some more vittles to last the month, too. Maybe i kin make it worth yer while."

'Bella answered, "cough up a pair o' gloves for my young friend, here, " she nodded toward Isa, "and I'll do it." A little while later, Bella gave Isa her new gloves, and invited her along on the impromptu mission. "I could use your help, and maybe your webs, too. You know how ta handle a pistol or a sword?"

[Stella Gaslight]

Isa was in heaven it had been quite along time since she had hot food that wasn't scraps from someone elses' meal.   The gloves were soft and they fit better than her old pair.  They made her feel better and more confident.  "I know about pistols a little.  I saw the pirates use them but I know blades better.  I used to have a dagger that had kept me safe many times but they took it from me now all I have is a pen knife they let me keep because they thought it was funny when I defened myself with it."

[MWBailey]

Well, there're lots of miniature battlefields around abouts, so finding a shonky shop with daggers shouldn't be too difficult, Bella said. They walked down the newly-cleared street that morning, in fact, and found A shop with many such items, owned by a man named Harkin. It was really just a really big tent tent pitched ove ra two-story ruin of a shopbuilding, but it actually had a wood-and-glass door with a bell on it, which tinkled when they went in, and rackes and display cases crammed with weaponry found  and sold or just found by the proprietor and stuck into the case. Bella stopped by one case and admired three or four cutlasses. "Mornin' lootinnint! You buyin' or just lookin'?" a gruff voice said.

"Both, if the price's right," Bella answered stoutly."Isa, you see anything you can use?"

[Stella Gaslight]

Isa had no idea what to expect but the shop ramshackle as it looked was clean and well tended on the inside.  It was amazing to find the city she saw in flames living again. She wandered down the row of lovingly filled cases looking carefully in each.  The sabers were to large and unwieldy but she found a small steel dagger with a nice sheath and a loop in the handle she could use to keep it with her if they went flying on the airbike again. "I like this one but I don't have much to repay you with.  I could work for you tho or weave you something."  She had come to this land with nothing but perhaps now she could begin to build something.

[Blindwalker]

He rounded the corner into the next alley way and checked the map again. Yep, definitely this one. There was only one manhole on the road. He looked around to see if anyone else way around, then grabbed the heavy iron cover and set it off to the side. Hugo climbed the ladder down til about halfway, then put the cover back in it's place. Pitch black. He let his eyes adjust to the darkness of the waterway. He slid down the half of the ladder then continued his way striding through the knee high water towards a very dim light. Letting his hands touch the sides of the tunnel for balance, they slipped on moss and his whole body fell forwards into the murky water with a splash. He was surprised and quickly pushed himself up from the bottom of the gritty stone ground.

"Did you hear something?" Hugo heard someone say.
"Yeah, I did," said another voice, "Let's go check it out."

Hugo drew his side arm from a thigh pocket and thumbed back the hammer.

"Over there! You! Drop your pistol now!"

Darn, someone had spotted him.

[MWBailey]

"Weave sometin'? Like what?" the shopkeeper looked thoughtful. "Gots a big demand dis season fer coats an' scarves, especially da silk or wool kind. Also dem knitted headcaps, and replacement liners for da caps like yer friend th' lootinnint here is wearin'. Can youse do silk, or wool?

[Stella Gaslight]

"I can do wool but my specially is silk like this." Isa removed her gloves tucking them carefully in to her pockets.  Then let her fingers fall in to a number seven trim pattern it was one of the ones she favored because white it looked fancy the movements were simple.  Soon the silvery gossamer had made a fine sample. The problem was Isa could not remember how she had got it to stop before.  "Scissors think scissors." She muttered under her breath and to her surprise it worked and she was able to hand the sample to the shop keep and put her gloves back on without problem.  "See I do fine work and it is strong.  I can make more perhaps enough for that dagger and something for Miss 'Bela too."

[MWBailey]

The shopkeeper sharply drew his breath inward when he saw the silk simply flow out of th pretty, dark-haired girl's fingers, but took the sample from her hands, and held it, feeling the warmth and softness. He took a loup out of his apron pocket and looked at it at a high magnification.

"Hm. Well, I'm no millinery expoit, but dis is sure a tight weave fer somethin' done wit'out a regular loom." He held it up to the light; there seemed to be no overt variation in the pearly-white material. "I wonder if it takes paint're dye. Well, never moind dat. You do me four scarves like dis one, only more of an aviator's length - your friend can show ya hers for an example - dat and a way to reach ya if I gets requests fer more, and I'll let ya leave wit da dagger, and yer somethin fer yer miss... Bela, was it? Long as it matches value, dat is. I'll t'row in a whetstone, too. Howzat?"

[Stella Gaslight]

Isa's face lit up this was a good beginning. "That I can do!  Miss Bella May I barrow your scarf for a moment?" Isa measured it in hand lengths like she had often in the mill and soon had the first started. She worked faster and harder that she had at the mill aching to prove herself and in under a half hour she had four scarves and cramping hands but it was so worth it.  Isa handed them to the shop keep bursting with pride.  She had done it all on her own.  The pirate had called her worthless so many times she had wondered if they were right but now that feeling was gone. "I am staying at the shelter for now I am new to this town."

[MWBailey]

The shopkeeper handed Isa the knife and the sheath, with the whetstone on top, along with a case of .44 shells that 'Bella paid for up front (for her spare pistol cylinders and the backup magazines for the airbike's gatling). "Now, what's the thing youse was sayin' you'd be buyin' fer yer friend?" the shopkeeper asked.

[Stella Gaslight]

Isa did know too much about swords as a while but the did know good blade construction.  She looked at the cutlasses very carefully wanting to impress 'Bella and make the right choice.  Then she saw one near the back with a nice blade, a hole to hang it from and a basket hit that was finely made with a blossom pattern. The sheath had seen better days but Isa bet if she oiled up the leather it would be just fine.  "That one please."  She said with a big smile.

[Cpt Wallace]

His butcher's shop, that's what people were calling it "the butcher's shop" had become busy too much for himself, a few of those seeking food had offered to help and he'd taken assistance from two Jonah a former city menial worker now without a city to tend was an aged man with thinning hair but a sharp tongue and keen eye for trouble makers, he'd brought with his a makeshift club which he'd already had to use it more than once to chase off troublesome riff raff, the other was a girl rake thin and in her early teens, she'd come looking for food for her starving family and found herself behind his makeshift counter handing out meat to other people, he watched as she worked she was clever and witty and would make a good sales person in a shop come the rebirth of New York, he hadn't caught her name when she'd slipped behind the counter to help him, something he'd need to rectify when he finished up for the day.

He placed the heavy knife he'd been working with down and turned from the carcass taking a cloth from Jonah and wiped his hands looking at the gathered mass of people crammed into the small space, he lifted his voice and called out.

"That's all for today folks, come back tomorrow afternoon and I'll have more."

There were angry groans of disappointment from those gathered as they pleaded for more meat which he simply didn't have, Jonah took up the reigns the man was a natural herder of crowds his voice encouraging and calming as he moved the crowd out pausing to speak with some of those gathered, he moved to the counter and watched the older man work his charm for a while before turning his head to the girl, she smiled weakly at him but he could see the disappointment in her eyes, she'd worked here and now because of that she'd missed out on feeding her family.

"What's your name lassie?"

She blushed and looked away from him.

"Heather."

"A fine name lassie."

He stepped from the counter and picked up a bundle of linen tied with strips of linen he placed down in front of her.

"Here, there should be plenty in there for your family."

Her face lit up with a bright smile as she struggled to get her thanks out.

"Here's one for you too Jonah."

He put another down on the counter for the older man, smaller than Heathers but Jonah had fewer mouths to fill than the girl.

"Thank you Eric, you're a good man doing this."

He stayed quiet as he collected up his knives.

"I'd appreciate the help tomorrow afternoon from the both of you."

They both agreed before leaving smiling at him as they went, he sighed as went back to the table picking up half a dozen steaks for himself he placed them to one side before going to a blade hanging from a belt, he drew the blade it was single edged and had a curving blade, someone had once said to him it looked like a bowie knife but the blade was over twice as long, it was in truth a sword a short hanger blade with a simple hand guard he brought the blade down on the carcass breaking it up before pulling another onto the table and breaking it up too, all the broken sections of carcass were brushed off the table into a burlap sack, he'd use the remains to set more traps during the morning, finishing up he tapped the blade into the wood and set about making himself a small fire, taking a skillet he dropped it into the growing flames and deposited steak upon it letting it sizzle away as he took up his Winchester and slowly loaded it checking the rounds as he slid them into the gun

[MWBailey]

Bella's eyes lit up and she hugged Isa warmly when she finally understood that the cutlass with the floral pattern was for her.  She agreed that the scabbard would be fine once a little oil was applied, and  the blade's length was better, just in case she had to use swordplay from the saddle. "Wowzers, Thanks, Isa," she said, posing in front of the mirror behind the counter. "This makes me look like a regular swashbuckler."

A little while later, they were heading out over the city on the airbike, looking for the Butcher shop belonging to the man named Burns.When they got there, they parked the bike on the bit of stable roof left on the building and clambered down to see what teh commotin was about; the crowd was of two minds; half were trying to turn away and go back to their homes (or flops, or wherever they lived), but the other half was becoming belligerent. "What about them two!" one man yelled, "why're you givin' them meat, when you told us you didn't 'ave any!? BURN 'IM OUT! GET A ROP--!"

THUMP!

CLICK! CLICK!

One troublemaker went down, and the other backed away, snarling in fear and hostility as 'Bella waded into the thick of things,clubbing one with the butt of one of her Colts, and then spinning that revolver around to match the other and cocking both to range over the rest of the thugs. She stepped to the side of the Old man with the cudgel. "easy, oldtimer, I'm not a highwayman," she said in an aside. "Lets have some order here!" she then shouted, "you three, get up and out of it before I start shooting! You five, If I see you around this town again, I'll draw and quarter the lot of you!"

"I didn't fly a hundred miles through snow and sleet and freeze half-solid to come here and warn Garrow and the Fleet about that damned disappeariong dreadnought -- or to watch people get ugly with their neighbors and fight over meat scraps! NOW GIT!." Most of the troublemakers slunk away, then. Grumbling, but still going, they slunk off into the early evening, and the more law-abiding dispersed as well. One man, however, stayed and pulled a pocket pistol from under his coat, and pointed it in 'Bella's direction. "Drop yer pieces, harridan, he said, or I'll drill--!"

A shot rang out, and only after the fact did anyone notice that Bella's right-hand revolver was smoking, though the muzzle flash ahd lit up the remains of the alley where the people had been gathered. The man pitched backward from the impact of the .44 ball and lay still. "Isa?" 'Bella called to the younger girl, "can you get that feller's gun? He won't be needin' it anymore."

"Can you tell me where to find Mr. Burns, Old Timer? I have some business to discuss with him."

[Stella Gaslight]

Isa decided that flight was amazing when one got to choose it as apposed to having it shoved upon them. There was a time where Isa, like most girls, would have fussed at the thought of touching the dead but that was a luxury she no longer had.  On the Lime Cutter she had lived for survival alone.  No pretension, no holding herself above the work she was asked to do, you either did or died.  The gun was shiny in the dead man's hand.  Isa took it and the little ammo pouch that was hanging out of his pocket then she closed his eyes and made the sign of the cross.  There were some things that were done for the dead regardless of who they had been in life. "Here Miss Bella I got the ammo too."

[MWBailey]

'Bella took the small pistol and the bag, but then a thought struck her. "Do you want the pistol, hon? Might come in handy, the way things are hereabouts."

[Stella Gaslight]

"I know more about proper cleaning and storage of guns than I do firing them but I can learn."  She was good at that and at taking direction.  Isa was already wondering if she could make a webbing holster.  Perhaps if she had a loom she could make some flat weave belting and mold it somehow like leather.

[MWBailey]

"here ya go, then." Bella handed the bag and the pistol back to the dark-haired girl. "I'll see about  gettin' ya a cartridge bandolier when we get back..."

"Well, how 'bout it?" She called out when teh older gentleman led them back into the ramshackle storefront. "You here, Mr. Burns? I'm Lt. 'Bella Jiroux, here to arrange for food, even just bones for soup stock, for one of the local shelters. They're in a bad way for supplies..."

[Cpt Wallace]

He strode out Winchester held firmly in his hands, his pistol hung on his right leg while the short sword hung off his left hip, he looked at the two girls and then to Jonah.

"These girls trouble Jonah?"

"Saved young Heather and me from the mob so I reckon they're good."

He looked at the two girls again then lowered his gun.

"Come on in, lets talk."

He ducked back into the building tossing another two steaks onto the skillet and moved over to the counter resting his carbine down on the surface before turning to the women.

"Take a seat."

He gestured to the barren space with nothing in the way of furniture with a joking smile.

[MWBailey]

"Why, thank you, sir, I'm sure." Bella joked back.A fine edifice you have here, Mr. Burns, sir." She turned serious, then, though apologetic. "That was myself and Isa, here, on your roof just now; we came by airbike. I'm a Military Courier from The Commonwealth of Virginia, sent to warn the garrison and fleet elements here of the approach of the Demologos II, that rogue dreadnought that had the dust-up with Garrow's sortie yesterday.  I cain't hardly believe that we managed to come off as light as we did; the Demiologos and her cap'n and crew are notorious Black Fleet traitors, and devastated half of Northern Virginny and South Dee Ceebefore fleeing up here -- but enough o' that." she shrugged , slightly embarrassed at herself.

"What me an' Isa here are after is any meatscraps or bones you can sparefor the folks in the shelter next to the Airmen's Barracks. Yes, I and my friend here are staying there, but we can get vittles at the Barracks mess if necessary. We, or I rather, plan to do similar with the cookfolk at the barracks." She pused, sniffed appreciatively, and added. Them steaks smell powerful good, and I would not -- will not -- refuse them... But, while they'll feed me an' Isa up real good, Cook at the shelter can cut half of each up, boil 'em, and I wouldn't be surprised if'n she could make 'em each feed a hundred."