“That sounds like the Consul, all right. We’ll do as ordered, Lady Admiral.”
Alsvid shut off her comm unit, squeezing a tiny button on her wristband.
“It’s not for nothing they call her Bloody Val,” Leo muttered. “She’s going to engage the Bruder Grimm fleet? I’d hate to be in their shoes, that’s for sure. Not for a palace and a landed title I’d go against the likes of her.”
“Queen Arthoria may well have reason to regret this decision before long.” Kimmy scowled darkly, crossing her arms over her body, hugging herself with a small shiver. “The Consul is like the spirit of warfare itself. Wherever she goes, hundreds of thousands of lives are lost.”
“Gently, friends,” Alsvid murmured, casting a glance over her shoulder at the farmer driving their wayn.
Alsvid produced a flute and began to play a cheery little tune, tapping her foot against the side of the wayn.
The farmer looked at her in surprise. “You know our songs?”
“Of course. I’ve always wanted to visit Albion.” Alsvid gave him a big smile, and continued playing. “How’s this for a nice country jig?”
Leo sidled up next to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulders warmly. “You’re certainly enjoying yourself. I’d never think we were at war with the Reichslanders.”
“Don’t you think it’s a beautiful planet, Leo? All this unspoilt nature…”
“Too cold and wet,” Leo said, promptly. “I don’t much care for castles, either.”
“You’re never backward in coming forward, eh, boy?” the farmer said, hiding a small smile in his beard.
“Got to,” Leo said. “It’s what kept me alive thus far.”
Kimmy brought out a fiddle and began accompanying Alsvid.
The farmer shook his head. “It’s like fair day! The gaffers at the market will never believe me when I tell them about this.”
◆◆◆
The menacing hulks of the Reich’s Kriegsmarine ships formed an arc around the equator of Albion.
Big, ugly, grey affairs like floating castles, long, heavy, and thickly armored, with screaming eagle’s heads at their bowsprits, laden with crude gun turrets, they were supported by one huge, sprawling, messy, dirty-looking Kriegsmarine Battleship, the Little Gerda, flagship of the Bruder Grimm fleet.
Their Kriegsmarine banner stretched out in space at their stern, a black flag with a white skull and two crossed magic wands in gold.
Reichsadmiral Bertha Hess studied the planet from her seat in the bridge. The bridge was designed to rise upwards in a stepped manner, her crew manning stations below, with her at the topmost platform, facing the vast viewports.
Like all of the Drakengard Reich’s folk, she has pure white skin and blue eyes. Her long blonde hair is crowned by a black pointed hat with a wide brim. She is a young maid still, beautiful to behold, radiating a purity from her slender form, no older than eighteen years old, innocent-looking, but there is a sharpness of gaze to her crystalline blue eyes, a chill to her lily-like, tender cheeks and rosy lips.
She is wearing the immaculate black officer’s jacket and trousers of the Kriegsmarine, with a black cross pendant around her neck. On her feet are black leather boots. Her left hand is missing; in its place, a steel hook. It is evident that she has given up her pound of flesh in service to the Drakengard Reich.
Even now she is rubbing the pointed hook with a gloved hand idly, trying to assuage the phantom pain that still plagues her, and singing the Reichslandlied to herself; the anthem of the Drakengard Reich.
Rainbow light pours out from the space before her, miles long, a disc of many colors pouring white beams from its perimeter, forcing her to raise her gloved hand to her eyes.
“Helm! What is that before us?” she snapped. Her voice was like a blade, sharp, high, harsh, utterly commanding, with the distinctive accenting of the Reichslanders.
The helm officer’s response is swift.
“Many marks off our port bow, approaching swiftly!”
“Sound the alarm!” she shrieks, rising from her chair. “Battle stations! Where are the Princess Eugenie and the Adler?”
“Moving to intercept, Reichsadmiral!”
Klaxons echo through the bridge, bright red lights flashing.
Out of the rainbow whorl in space before the Reichsadmiral’s ship thrusts a huge form; the PRUDENCE, flagship of the Military Consul. It is so large it dwarfs the much smaller Kriegsmarine Battleship. The two ships float face-to-face, the PRUDENCE hovering ominously higher than the Little Gerda.
Massed behind her are the supporting fleet Battleships of the Basilissa.
“Reichsadmiral! She’s hailing us!”
“Put her on our screens!” ordered Reichsadmiral Hess.
The scarred, beaten visage of the Military Consul appeared before her. A chill gripped the Reichsadmiral’s heart. She swallowed, trying to loosen the tightness within her throat, and tried to respond as boldly as she could.
“So it’s you, you red-eyed monster. You are addressing the Reichsadmiral of the Bruder Grimm Fleet, Bertha Hess! Stand down now, or we shall destroy your overlarge monstrosity of a ship!”
“It is you who shall be destroyed,” the Military Consul responds. Then the screen goes dark.
“They’re opening fire!” shouted one of Hess’s crew.
Golden beams of light poured from the PRUDENCE’s upper hulls, striking the Bruder Grimm’s ships. Bertha Hess was thrown onto her stomach from the impact of the PRUDENCE’s weapons hitting her vessel, the Kriegsmarine Battleship listing violently onto her port side.
She struggled up to her knees, clutching the railing next to her. “Return fire! Aim for her ventral hull! Her belly! Strike her in her belly!”
The Little Gerda’s gun turrets swung round to bring the ventral hull of the PRUDENCE into her sights with a labored clanking and hissing.
Little Gerda let fly with a colossal bang and hiss, firing all her turrets, smoke pouring from the PRUDENCE’s hull as her shots found their home.
The PRUDENCE’s bow mask opened its jaws and roared.
Never before had the Reichsadmiral actually heard a ship bellow with fury. The PRUDENCE’s eyes glowed red, seemingly mad with rage.
It was utterly terrifying. The Reichsadmiral could hear some of her crew crying, others screaming and cursing in shock, still others praying openly.
“Compose yourselves!” she shouted. “It’s a foul trick! Some treachery to unman you all! Don’t let that accursed subhuman slime frighten you so! We must fight! This is your only chance to destroy one of the Basileia’s precious little toys! I’ll not stand for such cowardice on my ship!”
She flung a furious look at the Helm Officer. “Where are the damned Princess Eugenie and the Adler? I want them to assault that enemy flagship immediately!”
“They’re attacking now! Look!”
Two of the Kriegsmarine warships were steaming towards the much larger PRUDENCE with all speed, their guns alight as they opened fire.
“Dizzy her with your attacks! Take the Admiral Hipper and the Eiserne Jungfrau, and assault those smaller battleships with their heavy guns! They won’t be able to stand up to yourmnl guns!”
◆◆◆
Admiral Aureliana watched, completely taken aback, as three of the Auxiliary Battlecruisers blew apart under the relentless salvo from the Hipper and the Jungfrau. They exploded with vast nova-like bursts of white light, breaking in half and disintegrating.
“Admiral! We’ve lost the DOMINA and the BLESSED MAID!” reported one of her crew.
“No!” screamed Admiral Aureliana, her face a mask of anguish.
Suddenly the Military Consul was at her side.
“We cannot concern ourselves with them now. They have done their duty; now we must do ours!”
Admiral Aureliana swallowed hard, and stood up straighter. She gripped the railings before her with shaking hands, watching the Reichsadmiral’s ships closing in on her fleet. “You...you’re right. Yes. I
won’t let their deaths be in vain!”
She flung out one hand towards her crew, grim determination stamped on her beautiful features.
“Tell the Legionary Battleships to spread out and return fire! Circle around them! Those big bastards are too heavy and too old to outmanuever us.”
“Aye, Admiral,” returned one of her crew. “Sending the message now.”
“What do you want us to do?”
“Put-”
Incoming fire slammed the PRUDENCE squarely in her ventral surfaces. Warning klaxons sounded; the PRUDENCE began listing sideways from the impact.
Admiral Aureliana was thrown squarely onto the floor of her vessel. She drew herself back up painfully, sitting back on her knees and wiping blood from her forehead.
“Lady Admiral!” one of her crew screamed, rising from her chair.
“Don’t! Stay at your post! You must protect our ship!” the Admiral commanded. “Ah-”
The PRUDENCE shuddered and groaned as yet another crushing broadside from the Little Gerda struck. Her crew yelled in surprise and pain as they were tossed to and fro from the impact.
"Hull damaged!"
"Decks B through D are rupturing! Initiating repair operations!"
All of a sudden, the shimmery, holographic image of a tall, splendidly athletic black woman appeared on the bridge.
She was wearing a war mask in the shape of a skull, or a rough golden approximation of such, a long javelin half again as tall as she was in her right hand, a slender shield body-height in her other, her muscular body glistening with oil.
She began to exhort the crew mercilessly, with a firm tone.
“Will you let those Reichslander tugs continue to deface my armor with their cannon fire or will you wipe them off the face of this universe, women?! How much longer must I endure their accursed guns spitting at my feet?!”
“Prudence!” Admiral Aureliana cried out.
“Yes, it is I! The Prime Intelligence of this vessel, who else? I’ve been woken up by all the loud noises and gunfire! One can hardly get any rest around here, I daresay!” Prudence huffed, shaking her spear furiously.
◆◆◆
The PRUDENCE’s jaws yawned open yet again, letting forth a colossal, booming roar.
Reichsadmiral Bertha’s ears rang from it. She covered her head and screamed with pain, her vision turning red from the sheer force of the sound.
Ahead of her, the eyes of the PRUDENCE’s war mask gleamed a rageful red.
◆◆◆
“Now, let us have some music!” Prudence declared.
The Anthem of the Basileia rang out all around them on the bridge. It was a hauntingly beautiful song, the kind of song that made one feel powerful and brave, a triumphal air worthy of heroes.
The Military Consul closed her eyes, raising her head with a look of sublime pleasure on her face as the deep, sonorous organs, the woodwind instruments, the melodic violins and trumpet fanfare mingled with the sounds of the ship cannons crashing and thundering around her from the Reichslanders.
“Nothing so sweet as that sound, Lady Prudence. The Symphony of War, indeed,” she declared, resting one hand on the hilt of her massive greatsword.
The morale of the crew was instantly raised. They shouted and cheered with elated expressions on their faces.
“Turn the ship around! We’ll broadside them!” Admiral Aureliana shouted, lunging towards the helmswoman, grabbing her chair in her gloved hands and pointing at the two Reichslander Battleships cruising towards her fleet.
“Aye, Admiral! Bringing her about!”
“Running out the guns!” the Weapons officer bellowed, slamming her fists on her console.
---
Reichsadmiral Bertha watched in cold terror as the massive PRUDENCE lightly, gracefully began to turn. Gun ports opened up along her side, revealing huge golden guns, ornate things with the heads of griffons carved upon their muzzles.
With an awesome, cataclysmic roar, they fired, pure golden light bursting through space, glittering and shining like supernovae.
The Princess Eugenie blew apart in an instant, torn to bits by the destructive force of the PRUDENCE’s huge guns.
“Reichsadmiral! We’ve lost the Eugenie!” reported one of her crewmembers, a look of terror upon his face.
“Damn it! We can’t withstand that kind of firepower!” the Reichsadmiral shrieked. “Pull back and launch close air support! It’s our only chance!”
“Aye, Reichsadmiral, launching fighters!”
Codex Basileia Page 5