“I am Captain Dekkar and this is my hometown,” the giant said as he looked down at those assembled before him. The ceiling was only eleven feet high so he needed to stoop with his massive girth over them. “We already have a plan. It is already in motion. While you may find parts of this plan questionable, I do not want to hear-” Whatever he had been about to say was forestalled as he recognized someone he had not expected. He smiled, though it was difficult to tell through his beard. Everyone relaxed as he took a seat on the floor, including the other giant-men, “Yang Moreau! Gods be damned, that blasted priest should have told me you were here!”
“I am honored you remember me, Captain,” Yang said with his voice still cracked. “Did they fail to mention my presence, sir?”
“I knew there were eight of you, but little more than your species. They referred to you as a white ‘whatever’.” Captain Dekkar scowled at that, but he shrugged. “I would have been less resistant to allowing outsiders to help knowing they came with you. I know you will respect us.”
Bookworm was glad she had not requested a naval officer to transport them here. They would not have possessed Mr. Moreau’s naturally humble demeanor the giants seemed to appreciate.
“Then it is time we get to business.” Captain Dekkar leaned forward slightly as he scratched at his scruffy beard. “The plan is already in motion, but to understand it you need to know how this all began.”
“The invaders attacked the power station late one night in December armed with swords and strange weapons. Dr. Gammis had ensured that the human and clockwork guards would all be rendered harmless earlier that evening.” Gammis cringed as everyone stared balefully at him. “They did not fight fairly, choosing dirty tactics and cowardly ruses to incapacitate the few remaining security drones.”
“Once they had secured the facility, aided by traitors, the army procured dangerous weapons that the scientists had created. Tools devised to dispose of the Koudra, but could destroy any man, beast, or clockwork just as gruesomely.”
Avariel and Tepic furiously rounded on Dr. Gammis, “What did you give them!?” The doctor tried to stammer out a response as he backed away from them.
“It would be better if we were to show you. We gathered enough for a demonstration.” Captain Dekkar said as he looked to Jeffrey. “Bring them quickly.”
***********
Ms. Whitesmith examined the men as she passed through the camp, ignoring the cat calls she received with a professional indifference. The large cavern sheltered them from the storm and the soldiers occupied themselves with cards and games. Two men caught drinking were now being forced to wear pretty pink dresses while singing sea shanties.
“They should have been flogged,” she said to no one in particular. Her first stop was to see Leisig, their expert hunter, who was preparing and petting his dogs fondly. A grizzly man who always carried his slaying equipment on his belt, “Will you be ready to hunt when the storm ends?”
“Ms. Whitesmith,” Leisig responded slowly to offset his thick accent, “I do not expect a difficult time. Storm has forced them into city or are dead. Will take dogs home to home and search. Then is checkmate.”
“Good, I will send Dr. Harteschlägel and his team with you.” He would beat the resistance out of them. Thinking of the failure of the previous eight men she added, “Along with some of our tanks to dispose of any clockwork or hero that gets ideas.”
“They wish they had surrendered sooner,” Leisig nodded absently as he returned to his dogs.
Ms. Whitesmith turned and made her way to the pirates camp. The rules that governed the other camp went ignored by the rowdy buccaneers. The names they called her here were coarse, but she ignored it with the same professional detachment. Their ‘Admiral’ was Ran Decagon, a bearded man in an extravagant coat. He was sitting back with a large rum bottle in hand, and did not rise to greet her though he tipped his expensive hat. “Mademoiselle. To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?”
“We intercepted a transmission to New Babbage from the flagship Carpathia,” Ms. Whitesmith explained quietly. “Despite the storms they try to remain near our border. I want you to get rid of them as a message to New Babbage.”
“So you wish us to route them?” Ran stood up with a wide grin as all the fun possibilities came to mind. “Or perhaps we can feint luring them into a trap. That would be beneficial and easier to take them captive-”
“You did not understand me, Admiral.” Ms. Whitesmith interrupted him coldly. Fixing him with a harsh stare she informed him what she wanted. “No mercy, no survivors. I want the brutal and complete destruction of the Carpathia.”
Ran considered her for a moment and then drank his rum. He put it down grimacing, “You have the uncanny ability to sour drinks with your presence, mademoiselle.”
“You flatter me,” Ms. Whitesmith was unamused despite her comment. “The storm should end in a few hours. How soon after that can you be ready to fly?”
“Pardon, but I will not be flying nor will the men from my personal crew,” the Admiral responded with crossed arms and a cocky grin. Her professional demeanor slipped into an angry sneer. “If you want a man riddled with cunning and quick with a plan, Ran Decagon is your man. But what you desire needlessly exposes us to counterattack and only to send a message. There will be no profit, madam.”
“You have an inflated ego, Mr. Decagon.” Ms. Whitesmith dropped the use of his title. “Do you know what good pirates are in this world? They are heavily expendable expert looters that cause gleeful wanton destruction. That is all you are good for to me. I don’t want you to hurt yourself by thinking, just destroy that damned ship.”
“Then it is good I work for Dr. Dupyre and not for Progress directly,” Ran replied with a nonchalant shrug. “Any simpleton can be brutal, madam. It takes no finesse, skill, or effort to be a barbarian. We pride ourselves as being more than mindless brutes or bloodthirsty killers.” He pointed to the other camp and then towards the tunnel lined with clockwork guards watching the rails. “If you want those you have an entire force of witless men and mindless clockworks at your disposal. Or perhaps the Skullions will fly for you. Their sensibilities match your own.”
“Very well, ‘Admiral’.” Ms. Whitesmith spoke deliberately as she clenched her fist. Words and insults did not phase her, but disobedience? “I will inform Progress of your insubordination.”
“Pirate,” Ran responded with a condescending grin.
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