Orchid Drop (Patreon)
Content
(This is a one shot based before the events of Pellan from Nia's perspective)
Nia held onto the railing of the command module with both hands, readying for the coming turbulence. The clouds below them looked so soft and inviting, their surfaces shifting like a landscape made of dreams. The clouds were not so benign as all that however, for they hid their enemy. The Araye were at it again, sending their ships on another foolhardy attempt to gain a foothold on the Blasted Continent.
She checked the shields one last time in the console before her, then turned to the captain of the vessel she was on. The Vassace man stared back, his feathers ruffled in anticipation for the order he knew was to come. He wore his captain’s coat proudly, just as Nia had done when she first got hers. She didn’t like wearing her coat anymore. She’d done too many terrible things in her service to the Orchid to wear it with pride anymore.
This sucks, Nia thought, I hate doing this. They don’t stand a chance, but they always try anyway. Why can’t they just leave us the fuck alone so we can get back to protecting their asses from the hordes of screaming geometric horrors to the east.
Finally, Nia nodded, giving the signal for the attack to begin.
The captain responded by calling orders, “Signal the other vessels to attack! Change the ship configuration to a high-low standing and ready the gun crews to fire! On my mark cut lift!”
The crew of the battleship Iron Gallom scrambled to the words of their captain, and one officer pulled a lever nearby. The lever initiated a change, the whole ship shifting to better accommodate firing down from above. The bridge, where Nia and the other officers stood, slid down a specially made shaft in the hull until it locked in place on the bottom of the hull. They now had a vantage on the bottom of the ship to watch the battle as it unfolded.
Nearby in the sky the other two battleships in their flotilla were doing the same, guns were seen shifting to give better angles, their own bridges descending through their hulls to the bottom of the ship, and armour plates moved to guard the underbelly should anything pierce the magical shields.
When the captain pressed a button that signalled the other ships, all three cut their lift engines simultaneously, and Nia felt her stomach slide slowly up into her throat. This was one of her favourite maneuvers, and when she’d been training in the order she’d loved it every time they practiced it.
The wind began to whistle through gaps in the ship, and across surfaces unsuited to being aerodynamic from that angle. The ship rocked as the stabilisers fought to keep the ship from lurching into a tumble, and Nia had to tighten her grip on the railing. She checked her harness just to make sure as well, finding the cable still firmly attached to the fitting on the deck.
The crew was silent save for a few muffled orders as they collectively held their breath and went through the exercises that would see them combat ready in a few moments.
When they entered the clouds, the previously inviting softness turned to a damp chill. The moisture protested their invasion of this realm by billowing and twisting around them, disturbed by the passage of the ship. The world seemed oddly quiet when you entered a cloud like this and Nia could hear her own pounding heart in full detail.
The silence was broken the moment they left the concealment of the cloud layer. The ocean stretched out in all directions below them, only broken by a scattering of tall builder ruins that rose above the surface. The old towers were covered in sea grime and desperate scraggly bushes that were too stubborn to be killed by the salt of the sea.
The focus of every man and woman on the ship was not the old towers, they’d seen thousands of those before. No, their focus was on the almost hundred strong armada travelling sedately below them. The gunners had orders to fire as soon as they had line of sight, and they stuck to those orders.
Poor bastards, Nia thought with a sigh.
The three ships of the flotilla she commanded shuddered with the firing of the guns. The magitech cannons making a sound that Nia could only describe as a thousand pieces of paper being torn in unison. It was a harsh sound, one that their enemies had learned to fear over the years.
Bolts of almost solid magical energy ripped free of the railgun like barrels and lanced towards the many enemy vessels below them, their trajectories drifting as the ships reignited their engines and began preemptive evasive maneuvers.
The bolts hit before the enemy heard the echo of the guns firing, and tore through wood and steel with abandon. The Araye did not have energy shields. This single fact was the reason the Orchid had held for so long against such overwhelming numbers of the years, and today was no exception.
The ships below them flew apart almost of their own volition, such was the devastation the Orchid guns wrought on their fleet. Power cores were struck, sending eruptions of volatile magical energy in all directions. Engines were damaged, causing ships to list and tilt wildly. It was a mess. It was always a mess.
The Araye tried to return fire, ragged volleys of fire trailing up into the sky towards the three offending ships like a man who’s already lost an argument firing cheap personal insults. Most of them flew wide, a few would have hit if not for the efforts of the helmsman, and one landed home. The Iron Gallom rocked as the shields took the blow, but otherwise no one cared. The shields had always worked, and there was no reason to think they would fail now.
“Target the ones firing back! Take them out!” the captain called to his officers, and they leaned into the intercoms to relay his order.
Nia didn’t need to make any decisions here. The battle, if you could call it that, had always been a foregone conclusion. The enemy, all hundred or so ships, were systematically wiped out by the three vastly superior ships above. It reminded her of an old saying from back on Earth.
Like fish in a barrel. Rest in peace you poor stupid souls.