Fantasy The Devil's Meridian (Closed)

[joshuadim]

Aboard the Prophet's bridge, the watchtower's radio crackled to life again with its ensign yelling in a frantic tone: "Captain! The Jackal... they're... they're aiming torpedos at the Archangel!"

Dobbs eyes widened as he stepped out of the bridge and headed for the main deck to get a better look with his binoculars, seeing that the Jackal was in formation with the Terror, and with his binoculars he saw what was seemingly about to unfold. The Jackal was ready to fire and the Archangel was ready to fire back. It was a standoff that seemed to near open conflict, and Dobbs couldn't do anything but watch. A bead of sweat dropped down from his forehead out of pure anxiety as he witnessed what could very well be the start of a violent battle between two vessels of this expedition...

Oh god... oh god... Dobbs thought to himself in terror as he stared through the binoculars from the main deck of his ship. Help... someone please... he thought in fear as a plea in his own mind. Words would not come to his mouth, and so he spoke in his head to no-one in particular before changing the direction of his thoughts to the one being he thought in that moment could possible help. Astrius... please help... don't let this expedition kill each other...

 

[K0mori]

"The Jackal is pointing its torpedoes at the Archangel, sir," the radio technician informed the Commodore.

Meinhardt froze for a moment. He had never been in this position before, and he appeared pale. "You have got to be fucking joking, sailor."

"I'm not, sir!"

Meinhardt turned to his gunnery officer. "Turn everything we've got on the Jackal. That should be enough of a message that a telegram won't be necessary."

 

[Infab]

The Archangel's message was ignored outright, the comms officer relaying it to Warren and the commander simply waving it off. The next one wasn't ignored. "...S-Sir, the Nixe has trained their guns on us." stated the comms officer, looking back to Warren. Warren's head snapped about, facing the officer. "Are you fucking kidding me?" The officer shook his head rapidly. Warren cut a look to Slater, whom was shocked by the news. "...Sir, I think we need to stand down." she finally managed to get out.

Warren glared at her. "...I want the rear launchers turned on the Nixe." he stated. "Captain, pardon me for this, but are you insane?" Slater finally snapped. "What you're doing is only ESCALATING THIS! You'll get us all killed!"

"You mean Kortova will get us all killed." he replied back, pointing out the window towards the Archangel. "That brat puts her ship on full alert over a group of natives. Natives that could be provoked by what she and her men are doing. They are already arming themselves. And it only takes one shot from either side for that ship of hers to open up and lay waste to their people. If she does that, I will not hesitate to put that ship of hers on the bottom of the ocean."

"And the Nixe?!" fired back Slater. "He's defending that brat's actions." responded Warren. Slater rapidly shook her head. "He's trying to stop this madness!"

Warren grumbled, before looking back to the comms officer. "Send a message to the Nixe."

JACKAL TO NIXE STOP

MAINTAINING LINE OF FIRE ON ARCHANGEL STOP

WILL CEASE ONCE ARCHANGEL STANDS DOWN STOP

SHOTS TAKEN AT JACKAL WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE RETALIATION FULL STOP​

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Dos Santos was nervously walking around the bridge, awaiting for an answer from the Commodore and begging to the Gods that the Natives won't take a few warning shots. Suddenly, Mancinelli let out a gasp of surprise as he looked through the window. "Dear Gods, the Jackal is aiming at the Archangel!" Dos Santos looked through the window, covering her mouth in shock. "N-no... oh God, not like this damn it!" She couldn't believe it, this was supposed to be a glorious moment of establishing relations with a new civilization. Maybe these people are remnants or survivors of the cataclysm that destroyed the ancients of the Meridian. But now they were about to fight all because of that stupid little woman.

"What the Hell?! The Nixe is aiming its guns at the Jackal now!" exclaimed Mancinelli. The crew looked at each other nervously. "What the fuck is the commodore even thinking?! How can this fix the situation!?" Mancinelli was clearly angry. He looked at the crew behind him and asked for their thoughts. "Never trust the Imperial types! Maybe they were working together to get rid of us!" said one of the sailors. "Maybe they were just waiting for the opportunity to find natives and exploit them for resources. Typical colonial ways!" shouted another one.

Dos Santos looked down. This can't be it. They cannot betray each other when they were so close of achieving SOMETHING! She slowly raised her head and sighed. "...Then we are with the Jackal. They clearly don't want the Archangel to prepare to fire its weapons on seemingly innocent natives, and neither do we." Mancinelli nodded. "...Send a telegram to the Commodore now! Tell him, and the so-called grand captain to stop!" He then looked at his second-in-command. "...Prepare all the guns. We might be a small vessel, but if we must fight, we will!"

The crew were seemingly okay with this. In fact, some seemed actually proud of this decision. Having not trusted the Alemannians after the verdict on the first island. The guns and turrets were all aimed towards the Nixe. They were actually quite close to the Correntino. Still, the ARA Correntino was a small ship. While they could definitely damage the Nixe, they wouldn't stand a chance if the Archangel shifted its sights towards them.

CORRENTINO TO NIXE STOP

DO NOT FIRE ON THE JACKAL STOP

ORDER ARCHANGEL TO CEASE STOP

SHOTS TAKEN AT THE JACKAL WILL RESULT IN IMMEDIATE RETALIATION STOP

PLEASE DO NOT MAKE US DO THIS FULL STOP

 

[joshuadim]

Dobbs continued to observe on the main deck of the Prophet as the situation escalated with both the Nixe and the Correntino now both joining in on the standoff much to the Albionian's dismay. Both captain and crew were scrambling and watching with both anxiety and anticipation over what very well might happen. Dobbs shook his head and gritted his teeth in both frustration and anger as he quickly made his way back to the bridge and ordered a telegram to be sent to the Jackal and to the Archangel:

PROPHET TO JACKAL STOP
PROPHET TO ARCHANGEL STOP
CEASE HOSTILITIES STOP
FORMAL REQUEST OF ATTENDANCE FROM BOTH PARTIES STOP
ENGAGE DIPLOMACY ABOARD PROPHET FULL STOP​

 

[Infab]

"Sir, we need to stand down. We have the Correntino pointing their guns at the Nixe now. The only ones not involved in this ridiculous stand off are the Terror and Prophet!" said Slater, motioning towards the front of the ship where the Terror was. Ahead of them still in formation. "If you fire on the Archangel over this, you risk getting everyone in this fleet slaughtered. Over a vendetta you have against Kortova and her men!"

Warren gave her a look of anger. "We know she's changing into something, and she may have done something sinister. But you can't just up and take your paranoia and frustrations with her out right here and now! Especially with so many lives at stake!" continued Slater. She was eventually interrupted by another incoming message. This time, from the Prophet. "Sir, the Prophet wishes for both us as well as the Archangel to stand down and hold a diplomatic meeting aboard the Prophet." stated the comms officer. Warren looked to the comms officer, before looking at Slater.

"...Well, sir? Are you going to stand down? Or keep this insanity going till we meet our deaths?" demanded Slater, placing a hand on her hip while the other was motioned towards the comms officer. Warren glared at her yet again, before eventually exhaling a sigh. "...Order the men to stand down. Send a message to the Nixe stating our intent." he said finally, looking in the direction of the comms officer. He then snapped his head around to Slater. "...I am not going to the Prophet. I will not sit across from that smug horned brat and listen to her try to spin this all to suit her needs."

JACKAL TO NIXE STOP

JACKAL STANDING DOWN STOP

RESUMING STANDARD OPERATIONAL PROCEDURES FULL STOP

---

JACKAL TO PROPHET STOP

CAPTAIN REFUSES ATTENDANCE TO DIPLOMATIC MEETING STOP

PER CAPTAIN WARREN: I HAVE NOTHING TO SAY TO THE 'GRAND CAPTAIN'. FULL STOP​

 

[EdwardDewey98]

"T-the jackal is standing down" said one of the sailors, which enraged Mancinelli as he looked through his binoculars. "Warren, you stupid donkey!" The Platine crew began to look at each other, worried that the Nixe and the Archangel might shift their attention to the Correntino now. "I guess there's no other way to this. We have to stand down." said the second-in-command, much to the dismay of Mancinelli and Dos Santos. "That stupid fucking BITCH. I'll pull that stupid hat of hers off her head, and throw into the ocean! She could have easily ruined everything!" shouted Mancinelli, punching a locker while Dos Santos sat down. Rubbing her fingers against her temples. She begged to all beings for the natives to not see this as a sign of danger or of hostility. "Send another telegram to the Commodore. Tell them we are standing down... but I promise I'll punch his stupid little face if he even dares to gives us a lecture over this!" Everyone on the crew grew more spiteful, as they lowered their weapons and got off their stations. All of this thanks to that damn blonde goblin.

CORRENTINO TO NIXE STOP

CORRENTINO STANDING DOWN STOP

DOCTOR DS STILL REQUEST TO ESTABLISH RELATIONS WITH NATIVES FULL STOP

 

[K0mori]

As the situation continued to escalate, Meinhardt's officers began to reason with their leader that perhaps their posturing was being misinterpreted by the Alleghenians, and that a telegram requesting a deescalation might be in order. However, the radio operator reported such a request from the Prophet to the Jackal before the Commodore could even consider sending one of his own. He snapped, staring at the destroyer out of one of the bridge's windows: "there is no misinterpretation, here. The Jackal has turned its guns on the fleet, and is remaining insubordinate in the face of our overt opposition. We cannot allow the Captains to define their own rules, here."

A scout dashed into the room. "Sirs! The Correntino is lining up against us!"

Meinhardt's mouth hung open a moment as his face deepened into a wrathful crimson. "We'll handle it when we're done with the damned Alleghenians!" he shouted.

"Sir, uh, they're demanding we force the Sokrovians to-"

"I said we'll handle it afterwards!" Meinhardt shouted, pounding his fist on the arm rest of his chair, even though he was standing. Walkenhorst, watching the situation in amazement as he stood at the helm, gave an incredulous smile. Meinhardt was finally winning the man's respect.

There was an uncomfortable silence as the radio operator held his hand in the air, listening closely. "Th-the Jackal is standing down, sir" he finally informed the Commodore, whose eyes had become like knives.

He turned to his gunnery officer. "Wait until we have visual confirmation, and then turn the guns on the Correntino. Send the following," he ordered to the telegrapher, who started to inform him that the Correntino was trying to signal its own intentions, but the Commodore waved them off.

On the Correntino, the lookouts watched in terror as the heavy guns of the tiny fleet's flagship turned on them. Shortly after the Correntino sent its desperate message, a message arrived from the Nixe:

ALL SHIPS STAND DOWN STOP
ARCHANGEL INCLUDED STOP
CPT WARREN CMD MANCINELLI STOP
REPORT ON LAND AT ONCE STOP
INSUBORDINATION NOT PERMISSABLE STOP
COURT MARTIAL TO FOLLOW FULL STOP
​

The Commodore was too frustrated with the situation to think of Dos Santos' request. In his mind, the ships had full leeway to determine who would be headed to shore, and with what equipment. The lookouts now kept their eyes on the Archangel, waiting for confirmation of its compliance with the Commodore's order.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

The bridge crew of the Archangel watched the situation unfold with tense confusion. Kortova informally gave command over to Williams given his experience in these sort of military situations, and she took the time to watch closely. Warren truly must have lost his mind, along with those Platine maniacs, if they also turned their weapons towards the commodore's flagship. A message had come in a moment ago from the Prophet requesting a meeting to deescalate the situation but Lieutenant Williams scoffed at it. He was not a paranoid man, but he did not believe anything good would come of an impromptu meeting in what could be hostile territory. Command officers rowing back and forth through an open water way? In view of snipers? Potential batteries? Madness.

An ensign at the window had his binoculars watching as the Jackal began to stand down, along with the reports trickling in from his watchmen. As soon as things had flared, someone had thrown a fire blanket over it, thank god.

Then the report came in from the Nixe.

Williams and Kortova looked it over, the latter smirking slightly. "Well, I suppose that is what happens when you act like a pirate rather than a military captain. We'll stop pointing at the Jackal, too," she said, though Williams shook his head. "Not just that, captain. This isn't a stand down from the situation - the commodore is belaying our general quarters. It is a full stand down order." Kortova made a hmph noise, her feet swinging back and forth in her commander's seat. "That doesn't sound smart. What if we're attacked?"

"The commodore has given his order, captain," Williams said. "We'll have to stand down entirely."

"Have sponson one return to their standby position," Williams ordered. Down below, the eight inch gun turned once again, the barrel traversing away from the Jackal and back towards the city and the harbor. He could see even from the bridge the subtle body language of confusion from his gunners. He didn't like that. His men... the grand captain's men... did not need to be confused or uncertain. In fact, that mindset had undoubtedly trickled across the entirety of the ship by now. Rumors spread worse than wildfire in a ship's hold. Ironically, the more he considered it, the more it may eventually play to their favor. Nothing unifies a ship under a captain more than the risk of external conflict. It was also a clever propaganda moment. The crew would be told how well Kortova handled the situation, and the bridge crew saw for themselves that she tactfully delegated command of the situation to someone who had a better grasp of the matter at hand. That alone put her, as inexperienced as she was, leagues above some men he had served with.

"Well performed," he said, but Kortova spoke up again. "Lieutenant, have us go to tertiary standby."

"Tertiary, captain? Foul weather conditions?"

"That is correct, lieutenant. We'll meet the needs for this ship's safety while complying with the commodore's orders. And, I suppose, alleviate the concern of the cowboys."

Williams considered it. "Yes, that is right." The orders were sent down. Both eight inch guns, and the other smaller guns, were vacated. Their ready shells were pulled back into the interior of the ship and the empty breeches closed back up. The gunners and crewmen did not return to sailing conditions, however. They went to the lowest level of standby available, reserved either for severe inclement weather, rescue operations, or 'hunkering down'. The gunners returned inside of the ship, but lingered behind the bulkhead doors in tiny armored gantries that were essentially closets. Just a bench and some lockers. They would wait here while munitions runners became message runners, posted at each hallway and intersection for quick message relay depending on the situation. It was an unusual position to go for pre-battle conditions, but it was doable and clever, Williams felt.

A third flag change occurred on the Archangel. The sailing flag was not returned as the battle flag went down. Instead, a thin, long pennant was raised, colored in three simple colors - green, white, and black. Inclement weather flag. The decks were cleared, but the windows and doors were locked up, and the armored panels went down over the bridge windows. Watchmen numbers were reduced by half, even vacating the masts and only a couple remaining on the main deck, binoculars out.

Conditions remained mostly the same inside the ship, with crew at their stations.

"Is this some sort of drill?" One of the marines asked in the mess hall. "Why did we go from secondary to tertiary? What does that mean?"

"Means its probably a drill," someone responded. "That or our skinwalker captain turned into a monster and forgot she was supposed to be in command for a second there."

A runner stopped by, a sailor on his way to a different station. "Hey, you guys here about the fuckup?" He said, poking his head inside. The orderly by the door scowled. "To your post, sailor." He was promptly ignored as the runner went on. "Yeah, the Jackal had us fixed with their guns, then the Nixe fixed 'em with their guns, then the Correntino had the Nixe in their guns! Real big mess out there. I heard there was shooting. Not from us, 'course. Maybe the Nixe and Jackal or something. I dunno. Heard it from a mate who mentioned an engineer hearing it."

There was a small clamor among the marines, some calling bullshit, others shocked, and others pissed at everything because they could be doing something better, like sleeping or fighting, which standby meant neither. The orderly managed to shuffle the runner away as the standby was reduced a level.

"Guess ol' horns put the bastards to bed with our big guns," someone chuckled, a marine passing around some cigarettes.

Another sailor ran by. "Rain slickers! We're on tertiary, get those rubbers on!"

Collectively groaning, the men shuffled about, obeying the orders of the tertiary standby as yellow rain jackets were pulled out from lockers and put on. Anyone watching the Archangel may, on occasion, spot a sailor or two in yellow rain coats moving about.

 

[Infab]

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop on the bridge of the Jackal, after the order came through for Warren to report to shore for a court-marshal. He straightened up, looking around the room at the officers whom were all now looking straight to him. Inside, his blood was boiling. The Commodore was doing exactly as he said he was doing. He was defending Kortova's actions, risking provoking the natives. They were in unknown territory, with actual gods and magic. What would have happened if the natives had perceived them as a threat, and launched some sort of magical attack at them in response? The Archangel simply sails into the harbor, hoists its battle flag, and mans their guns. Warren sighed.

"Well, I guess I should prepare myself." he muttered, glancing to Slater. Slater was speechless. "You're in charge now, Slater. Hope you do a better job than I did." he said, with a smile. Then, he turned about and moved towards the door. "Sir, I'm sending sailors with you, as well as the Master Chief." she said, to which Warren paused and shook his head. "Keep him here. Riddle will get violent if he goes. He also has that sub-machine gun of his. It'd end in a bloodbath."

A moment later, Warren stepped through the door. Leaving the bridge as silent as before. Slater stared at the door for a few moments, before looking to the rest of the bridge crew. "...We're holding just off shore. Inform the Nixe that Warren is coming ashore."

The torpedo launcher returned to their unarmed positions, as the Jackal came to a halt where it was. Meanwhile, Warren climbed aboard a skiff with a few of the Jackal's sailors. As it was lowered to the water and proceeded off, a message was sent to the Nixe.

JACKAL TO NIXE STOP

WARREN PROCEEDING TO SHORE STOP

FIRST LIEUTENANT SLATER NOW IN COMMAND OF JACKAL STOP

JACKAL REMAINING IN POSITION OFFSHORE STOP

JACKAL PERSONNEL REMAINING ABOARD FOR TIME BEING FULL STOP​

 

[K0mori]

With the Archangel having apparently complied with Meinhardt's demand, the crisis had been fully defused. Now, embarrassingly, the fleet would need to coalesce around the staggering responsibility of making first contact with the living people of Altanis- a civilization long believed to be fully extinct. By the time the Nixe had anchored itself and deployed a gangplank, and the other ships had deployed skiffs, the crowd of onlookers had swelled to several hundred bewildered faces, many of whom apparently understood what had been taking place, as they were pointing from ship to ship, gun to gun, and speaking their forgotten language.

"Sir, how are we going to handle this?" Walkenhorst asked as he looked out over the harbor through a porthole window.

Meinhardt, looking exhausted as ever, wiped his brow. "I'll gather up the Marines, Captain. I need you on the bridge right now, in case this whole situation goes any more sideways than it already has." Meinhardt put his hand reassuringly on Walkenhorst's shoulder, having sensed his grief at once again being relegated to his duties aboard the ship while others do the adventuring. "I know you're going to want to go down there and see it with your own eyes, but we don't know these people, not really. Look at them; they have rifles, by the looks of it. If anyone fires a shot it's going to be a massacre, and with our fleet's... 'divided loyalty,' I'm afraid that the Jackal or the Correntino might intervene on the islanders' behalf.

"If any of them fire on you, sir," Walkenhorst replied, "we'll end the mutiny by force."

Meinhardt nodded. "We very nearly explored that option a moment ago. Let's hope it never comes to pass. Ideally, we'll be able to make our peaceful intentions known. If possible, I'll make sure that Warren and Mancinelli are transferred here quickly so we can have that out of the way. Don't put them in the brig. We'll have to assemble a court martial and that'll have to wait until later, and those two men aren't a danger to anyone on our ship."

"They were almost a danger to everyone on this ship," Walkenhorst mildly objected. "But... I'm sure we can spare some of the empty officers' quarters."

Finally, Meinhardt smiled. "That'll be appropriate. I still have the task of rebuilding bridges with their crews. I have to prove to them that my discipline is founded in respect, not revenge." With that matter decided, there was an awkward pause.

"...Sir, what if the Altanics mob you?" the Captain finally asked.

Meinhardt's smile disappeared immediately. "In that case, sound the guns. Don't fire on the shoreline unless we've been completely overrun; fire a warning shot if you can. Our mission was a scientific endeavor, and has now become a diplomatic one. We must do everything in our power to avoid making enemies of these people. We only have one chance at a first impression."

Walkenhorst saluted. "Yes sir, understood."

---

ALL AWAY TEAMS DEPLOY STOP
COMPOSITION OF LANDINGS YOURS STOP
COME ARMED BUT SEEKING PEACE STOP
MEINHARDT WILL MEET YOU THERE STOP
ARCHANGEL SEND KUROMAKI FULL STOP
​

Under a sunny sky, Commodore Meinhardt gathered his 50 marines on the top deck, overlooking the excited crowd outside. Each of them was equipped to the maximum degree the ship could muster, as it had not come to the Devil's Meridian planning to fight a war. Half of the men and women were carrying Karabiner 98AZ carbines, while a few others and Meinhardt, totaling ten, were carrying MP-18 submachine guns. Ammunition was somewhat plentiful, but they lacked grenades and other equipment Alamannian marines were trained to use.

"Soldiers," Meinhardt spoke, "when we descend to meet this lost continent, we will be as aliens descending from the stars. Our actions will decide whether they may trust foreigners now, and possibly, forevermore. I expect you to conduct yourselves with the utmost caution. Fire only if attacked or fired upon. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir!" a chorus of voices answered.

Meinhardt saluted, and then beckoned them to follow down the gangplank to the shore. Meanwhile, the Altanic soldiers had moved to the front of the crowd, assuming a formation of their own like a wall between the two sides. Many of them took a knee and raised their guns, aiming steadily at the approaching Commodore, who kept his own pointed at the ground in one hand while his other was raised high in the air. Detlev, completely unarmed, accompanied him at the front of the group with both his hands in the air. A hush fell over the crowd of onlookers.

Alongside his own landing party, the skiffs began to pull up to the harbor wall as well, allowing small teams from the other vessels to arrive. At last, they officers and their soldiers stepped down on to dry land. Meinhardt gave a slight bow, signalling his desire for nonviolence, which the Altanics appeared to understand. Gradually, the islander officers began to give orders and wave down their comrades, who obediently lowered their guns as well.

"Oyoha!" a tall, powerfully-built human man shouted to the Commodore. He held his arms out wide. "Oyoha apawandas!"

A murmur of "oyoha" followed from the gathered Altanic soldiers.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"Two skiffs! Tertiary order ongoing! Maintain effective sight watch on the city and other watercraft," Williams commanded, on deck with marines, sailors, officers, and Kortova lingering beside him like a lost child. She adjusted her hat and cleared her throat, adding in, "And do be vigilant! These people may be strange, they may be hostile, but they may be the best friends we have out here! Don't do anything silly!" By the general clamor of things, the only response she received were a few glances, shrugs, or nods as two skiffs were prepared. Kortova spared a look at her specially assigned body guards, a gruff four man team of assault pioneers in cumbersome body armor, two armed with the only submachine guns they had, and the other two holding shotguns. The Archangel was armed well but not in a particularly diverse manner. Quantity over quality or technology, sticking with the robust nature of their basic firearms. She did still see two snipers - possibly the only two snipers - scamper past to crawl up the masts to get a better view of things.

The four assault pioneers were relaxed and, if not slightly disappointed at the guard duty, attentive at the situation. Their job was unusual in that they were there to protect Kortova and Kuromaki, who was summoned up to stand with the captain. "I'll be in the second skiff," Williams explained. "In the event of an attack, the marines will bring you back to your boat and take you back to the ship. Myself and the others will organize a fighting retreat." There were two dozen of them, about twelve per rowboat, and while this seemed a lot to Kortova at first, as they rowed across the waters to the shore, a little over twenty men seemed incredibly insignificant to the crowds of hundreds if not thousands awaiting them.

Kortova opened up her little sky blue parasol to shield herself and Kuromaki from the sun, who sat beside her by design and effect, two burly armored marine pioneers as shields in front of them, and two behind them, boxing them in at the back of the skiff. The men smelled overwhelmingly of cigarettes and gun oil. "Should have brought a picnic," Kortova quipped to Kuromaki.

Both skiffs from the Archangel met the beach. The armored marines led Kortova and Kuromaki up towards the commodore, while the other marines linked up with the group with Williams, who fanned the men out into a loose skirmish line. Rifles pointed down, all men standing casual. They were deploying along the small natural lee of the beach so that if shooting did start, they could lay in an inch more cover than they had on an open beachfront.

Grand Captain Kortova kept her parasol open over her shoulder, clutched tightly in both hands. She wasn't scared, but perhaps nervous was a better application. After seeing Ishra and glimpses of the Great Family, she had no idea what to expect from these strange new people.

When they lowered their weapons, Kortova could see Williams gesture for the marines to stand easy, resting their rifle butts against the sand.

"Good afternoon, commodore," Kortova said as she arrived, her four man escort parting for her. They looked like professional men who had the keen looks of those who hungered for a fight, but duty was beyond anything else to them and they would not be the ones to start a fight - just finish it. All four kept their weapons slung across their chests in the unusual style of stormtroops and pioneers.

Twirling the parasol slightly, she continued. "I do hope we can continue to help each other for the benefit of this wonderful fleet. I fear that some have it terribly out for me."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

"To Hell with him!" shouted Mancinelli as the telegram from the Nixe arrived. "He can go fuck himself! The chain of command was long gone when he aborted this operation. As far as I am aware, we are just trapped in this place!" he continued, shouting while Dos Santos sat nearby. On the verge of tears as she saw the Alemmanians already landing on the island, ahead of them -- ahead of her. "What do we do?" asked Martinez, Mancinelli's second in command. The crew that was present on the Correntino were all upset. Angry. Most of them were angry at the Commodore and the Alemannians, while there were a few blaming Warren and the Jackal for this as well. Mancinelli sat down on the captain's chair while looking at the island ahead of them. He actually seemed... scared.

"...Fuck's sake." he murmured while pulling something out of his pocket. It was a picture of an elderly woman and a pair of young boys. "They are going to take away my rank. They can keep it if that's the case! But if they shoot me... God, like a fucking dog... what will happen to my abuela? To my little brother?" That situation was becoming clearer for the sailor, now that the anger had washed away.

Everyone on the ship was uncomfortably silent about this. "...I'll never see the Republic again. I'll never walk down Monte Hermoso again... I won't be able to tell abuela how much I miss her." he said, tears falling down his cheek. Dos Santos looked away, unable to look at the sailor this saddened. He looked back at the island and watched as the Commodore made first contact with the natives. Something that hurt her deeply.

"...Then don't submit." said Dos Santos. Everyone raised their heads to look at her. "...Who here trusts the judgement of the Commodore? After allow that little brat to come to this island bearing arms. Even he is dragging soldiers with guns to a meeting with these natives. Remnants of a world long gone. One misunderstanding could mean a war between us." Mancinelli looked a bit surprised at the doctor, before looking at the others present at the Bridge.

All of the crew of the Correntino agreed. None of them could trust the Commodore. "Imperialist bastards like him deserve to be shot." said one of the sailors. The others agreed. Mancinelli was moved by his comrades, but especially by Dos Santos. The doctor gave the sailor a smile before looking at the rest again. "...Then I have a plan. I request a boat to land on the island. None of you come out."

A few minutes later...

The sentries on the island could probably see a single boat approaching them from the Correntino. On board, only Dos Santos. When she reached land, she asked to take a short break, as she was not used to such heavy physical exercise. Once she had regained her strength, she carefully approached the meeting spot between the Commodore and the natives, to not interrupt these initial talks. But the Commodore could easily tell that Dos Santos was alone and without Mancinelli. And she gave the Commodore a serious look as she caught him looking at her. At the moment, however, she wanted to hear what the natives were saying. This meant a lot to her.

 

[Infab]

Shortly after the message arrived, the Jackal's crew prepared an away team to join Warren and the few sailors with him on shore. From the Jackal came a skiff full of sailors, well armed and lead by both Master Chief Riddle as well as First Lieutenant Slater. Riddle was visibly angry, clutching his Annihilator tightly, while Slater gave the man worried looks. Warren and Riddle had served together for several years, and had become good friends in that time frame. Of course he'd be angry over his friend getting court-marshaled. Was he angry enough to draw blood, though? He certainly looked it.

Warren's skiff arrived with little noise or commotion, Warren stepping off the skiff as some of the sailors secured it. The sailors bore a mix of lever-actions and standard Winchester M1907 SLs. None looked happy to turn over their captain, most of them cutting both the Commodore as well as Kortova's men looks. Once the skiff was secured, the sailors escorted Warren to where the Commodore and the others were. Rifles shouldered, and safeties off.

And it wasn't long before the other skiff arrived as well. As soon as it reached shore, Riddle bounded off the boat with three sailors in tow. All had M1907 SLs, modified for fully automatic fire with extended magazines. Up the shore they marched, magazines clacking and grenades jingling in pouches on back of their hips. Slater called out after Riddle, demanding the Master Chief wait as she disembarked and the remaining sailors secured their skiff.

Warren glanced over, and instantly recognized the look on Riddle's face. "Riddle, stop." he said, moving towards the Master Chief. "This is fucking bullshit and you know it, Captain." spat the Chief, burning rage in the man's eyes as he continued towards the group. "Not now, Riddle. I said stop. Calm down." demanded Warren, as he met the man in mid stride. Shoving his hands into Riddle's chest and forcing him to stop in place. Slater came rushing up behind, a look of frustration adorning her face. "Riddle, stop trying to make this worse than it already is." she said, as she ran up and stopped next to them.

The sailors with them moved up and stopped around them, weapons shouldered and glancing between both the natives as well as the group with the Commodore. Almost all of them seemed to share Riddle's sentiments.

 

[joshuadim]

Dobbs gave out an audible sigh of relief as the fleet seemed to stand down, and he leaned back in his chair on the bridge and placed a hand on his forehead. It seemed as though utter disaster had been averted... for now. Deep inside, he predicted that this would be bound to happen again and perhaps when it did there would be no stopping it at that point. Lonstray himself gave out an audible laugh of relief aboard the bridge as he continued to watch what was happening through a pair of binoculars. "Bloody hell. We were this close to losing the entire fleet in these waters." he stated aloud with a mix of anger and snark, "That Sokrovian brat is the cause of all this, isn't she?"

"I don't know. And I'd prefer that we never come to such a situation again." Dobbs remarked as he looked over to Lonstray with a stern gaze. The scientist nodded in agreement as he removed his binoculars, having seen enough already. A few moments passed before a telegram arrived from the Nixe, announcing all vessels to send away teams onto the coast. As Dobbs read it he sighed audibly and shook his head: "Well... now we are to approach the natives. I just hope nobody fires a damn shot at them."

10 Minutes Later...

Two skiffs departed from the Prophet and began to make their way towards the shoreline, one carrying Dobbs along with Lonstray and two of his assistants along with some sailors while the other carried armed sailors led by Lieutenant Reid. Lonstray brought with him a phonogram, as he believed it would be needed for research purposes ashore in recording audio of the natives. It didn't take long for both skiffs to arrive on shore and for both groups to disembark, with Reid and his men keeping a tense lookout after what had transpired and keeping their guns pointed towards the ground. As the Prophet's away team approached where the rest were converging, one of the sailors whispered to his comrades: "Oi, that's the horned lady innit?" he said quietly, referring to Kortova. "She looks like a devil o' sorts don't she?"

"Why do you ask?" another sailor asked gruffly.

"A bad omen that be... demons sprouting in the fleet."

"Quiet, corporal." Reid then spoke in a stern tone, looking at the young lad with annoyance. "We're not here to gossip and spread rumors like ladies at a weaving club."

In the meantime, Lonstray couldn't help but look at how... strange Kuromaki had become now and remarked at her continued mutation and transformation. If only I could get a bloody sample from her. he mused to himself in annoyance. Dobbs in the meantime approached his fellow captain's/shipheads and observed the going about. He looked over to Captain Warren ans shook his head: "What... happened?" he asked in no uncertain terms.

 

[Infab]

"We pointed our torpedo launchers towards the Archangel, as a precaution in the event they decided to fire on the natives. And they pointed their cannons at the Jackal." replied Warren, as he turned to face Dobbs. He kept one hand pressed against Riddle's chest, holding him in place as his eyes darted between the Commodore, Kortova, and now Kuromaki. "The Archangel decides to come sailing in, putting men at battle stations and raising their battle flag. The natives here could have taken that mere action as a sign of aggression. They could have taken shots at the Archangel, or made some sort of magical attack, and forced an engagement. And with a ship like that, they could slaughter the whole settlement." He glanced to the Commodore after a moment, before continuing. "I was prepared to defend the natives here in the event of such an action from the Archangel. Instead of telling the Archangel to stand down immediately, the Commodore decides to have his guns pointed at me. To defend myself, I pointed the rear torpedo launcher at the Nixe. The Correntino seemed to agree with my actions, and wishes to defend the natives, so they pointed their weapons at the Nixe as well."

He then looked back to Dobbs. "Now, for attempting to do what I thought was right, I'm going to being court-marshaled. By a commander in a foreign nation's navy, on a mission that supposedly ended days ago. Mr. Mancinelli was supposed to be here as well for his own court-marshaling, but apparently he has chosen to defy Meinhardt's orders."

 

[joshuadim]

Dobbs pinched the top of his nose in both exasperation and confusion as he closed his eyes and shook his head. "A bloody mess this is." he stated, "As much as I disagreed the actions of the Archangel... such an escalation was perhaps unwarranted. Unity is fragile enough as it is already." Dobbs then looked over towards Kortova and those that accompanied her for a moment before returning his attention to Warren: "Between you and me however... I do not trust Kortova, nor her First Officer, in any capacity." he whispered in a hushed tone.

 

[Infab]

"It doesn't matter what either of us think, Dobbs. Its what Meinhardt thinks. And apparently he's more than willing to let Kortova do whatever she wishes, along with the commissar. Just watch. Kortova will play the victim, or act as smug as ever, and he'll go right along with it." replied Warren, motioning to the Archangel's officers. He looked to Kuromaki for a few moments, taking note of her new mutations. And not a sign of any terror. Neither Kuromaki nor Kortova care that they're turning into strange creatures or demons.

 

[joshuadim]

"What do you suspect of them? A conspiracy against the fleet as a whole?" Dobbs asked Warren in an inquisitive manner. "Do you think that they present a danger to the lives of not just ourselves, but also the men we command?"

 

[Infab]

Warren glanced to the Archangel crew again. "...I don't know what they're up to, honestly. But I don't think it will help any of us...or any of the rest of the world." he replied, looking back to Dobbs. "I don't trust them in the slightest, and they need to be watched closely." Warren then looked over to Dos Santos, whom was standing there. Alone. Where were the sailors? Nobody came with her at all? What were they doing back on the Correntino?

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Grand Captain Kortova eyed the crowd from behind the commodore and his party, standing beside Kuromaki with her four guards loosely behind her. She wasn't sure what to expect from these people, or what the commodore would do. Kuromaki was probably going to be their translator, she imagined, given what the woman was capable of doing at that fateful last group meeting they had. A rather remarkable skill, and she couldn't help but wonder what other remarkable skills the woman had developed with her own physical changes.

The commotion lower down the beach of more arrivals, and the subsequent yelling of some Alleghenian officer among Warren's group caught her attention. She rolled her eyes at the sight of them. Blowhards and fools. The question to her was if they were always that way, or if it was some new conspiracy, some ridiculous plot formed recently against her. After the impromptu meeting with Wulfera, what if these people were told something different by another god or demon? Wulfera was a bossy bitch, and a dangerous one at that. It stood to reason there could be other visitations from different specters. For the moment, she was inclined to remain where she stood, but the Alleghenian's came to a stop among the Albion group and began talking among themselves, occasionally looking her and the commodore's way. Kortova frowned, her grip tightening on her parasol. Were they talking about her? Of course they were. Those jealous bastards.

"I'll be right back in a moment," she said to Kuromaki, turning and stepping away from the group and marching right towards Warren and Dobbs and their group. She could see Dos Santos by herself further down the beach, and she shook her head. What was that woman up to? Was there a pacifist streak in the fleet now? Evidently not, since these cowboys were so ready to start a fight for no reason. No, more likely the woman didn't want to risk any of her own people out here. Let the others do the fighting and die if it came down to it. Typical. At least that madman wasn't with her. What was his name again? Macaroni? Mancinelli?

Her guards made to follow her and she shook her head, wanting them to stay back, but they drifted after her at a distance. They followed Lieutenant Williams' standing orders.

Kortova walked right up to and looked at Warren from underneath her parasol. "I do expect - hope - that there was a good reason for why you threatened the lives of nearly two hundred Sokrovian sailors, marines, and passengers in such a brazen and flagrant maneuver."

 

[K0mori]

The Commodore looked side to side, nervously at the gathered crowd. The arrival of the Sokrovian landing party was a major relief, and he flagged Kuromaki over as soon as Kortova and her guards had gone further down the harbor to where some of the other crews seemed to be gossiping. The monstrous commissar trudged over in her heavy coat. "I had no part in what just took place," she said. "I suppose you need a translator?"

"That's right," Meinhardt replied. "Tell them who we are, that we're peaceful, and ask them who they are."

Kuromaki gave a smirk. "Certainly," she replied, before stepping forward. "My name is..." she began with a slight hesitation, "Tsukiko! I will speak for this fleet, as I am the only one who can understand you!" She shouted to the locals. There was quite a bit of surprised chatter from the onlookers. Kuromaki listened for a moment, her eyes and ears swiveling as she took in their voices. She then turned back to Meinhardt. "They're calling me an 'all-talker.'"

At that moment, one of the soldiers, a lizard-like being in a makeshift suit of armor. stepped up and shouted again. "Oyoha apawandas! Uru asoppona?"

"We come in peace from faraway kingdoms!" Kuromaki answered. This began a conversation which was only half-intelligible to the fleet's observers: "This man is our leader, his name is Meinhardt, and we call him by his title: Commodore. ...We only wish to know more about the world. ...They do not speak your language, and we do not know your customs. You called me an 'all-talker.' Are there others like me? ...Yes, that would be very helpful!"

Now there was a large commotion in the crowd as a number of people ran away into the city, but the energy had changed from one of trepidation to one of excitement. Kuromaki turned back to Meinhardt, who was now face to face with Dr. Dos Santos. The two of them shared a highly critical expression, but neither spoke during the initial conversation. The commissar briefly summarized the situation: "They are going to gather other all-talkers so that we can make this easier. I was not able to ask them about themselves, yet, but they are aware that we do not know them or their culture yet."

"Very well, good work, Kuromaki. Although, there's something... I'll ask you about it later." Meinhard muttered. "While we have a moment, doctor, I suspect you're here to tell me that Mancinelli is defying that order. Am I correct?"

 

[Infab]

Warren gave Kortova a look, as did most of the members of the Jackal's crew that were present. Save for Slater, who's face was now buried in her hand as she shook her head. "Because you threatened the lives of the rest of the fleet, as well as those of the natives here. But that doesn't matter now, does it? You'll play the victim, or stand there like a smug brat while Meinhardt takes me into custody to have me court-marshaled for preparing for the worst." replied Warren rather bluntly.

As he turned to face her, he heard what was going on with Kuromaki and the natives. More people that can speak that creepy language that they all could somehow understand? "...I have nothing else to say to you, Kortova, besides telling you to go hide back behind your assault troopers. Either that, or behind that yes-man you call a first officer. Maybe he'll shine those devil horns for you, while you sip tea with your friend the commissar."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

It's been a while since Dos Santos had seen Kuromaki among the group. Now she was acting as a translator, something that didn't surprise her considering that little encounter they had before. Dos Santos was in another realm once the natives were talking. She had a big smile on her face, and clasped her hands together while both Kuromaki and the the native commander were exchanging words. "F-fantastic... utterly fantastic. Ms. Kuromaki, I beg of you to teach me how to speak their language!" That happiness lasted for as long as Kuromaki talked with them.

But once the envoy was done with the conversation, some of the natives left excited back to their villages. Dos Santos was now face to face with the Commodore, who was pretty straight about things. He asked her about Mancinelli. "Yes, Commodore... as an independant fleet. The Correntino will officially stop taking orders from you and the Nixe. They are claiming full autonomy." Dos Santos tried her hardest to not smile, but she was rather happy. Telling an Imperial man like Meinhardt these things right to his face. "

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Kortova blinked up at Warren with a look of uncomprehending surprise. She tried to discern if he was joking at first, trying to rile her up or make fun of her, but it seemed that he was being truthful. Her parasol drooped slightly as she gathered her thoughts.

"I... you... what? Threatened the fleet? The natives? Are you out of your mind? Is this... this about the general quarters? Captain Flint fought dead people. I was confronted by a demon spirit. We watched an island disappear into a horrific bottomless pit, and all of this is over me calling general quarters to make sure sailors are on station to defend the ship and provide damage control? There are even the remains of a fortress at the front of the bay, Captain Warren. We don't have any idea what to expect from these people. I would think any captain that doesn't prepare their ship to protect their crew to be remiss in their duties as a naval commander," she said, shaking her head, still somewhat bewildered. She had thought Warren was attempting some deeper ploy but perhaps it was just this simple. "Did you think I was going to start a shore bombardment on what could be the only inhabited settlement in this cursed sea with a single eight inch gun? Look out towards the bay. My ship is at broadsides. Not even prow forward to play to our strength."

"Captain, you threatened to kill me and my entire crew, to sink a ship, and you think you're the victim because you face the consequences of being rash?" Kortova pauses and shakes her head again. She barely registered being called a brat. "You've lost your mind."