Sexy Steampunk Babes: Chapter Thirty Six (and Tala) (Patreon)

“I can’t believe you made me get out of bed for this,” Bonnlyn groused as the members of Team Seven watched the first of two Shards be wheeled down the ramp of the newly arrived airship.

Marline chuckled as she turned to the eye the dwarf. “Not at all excited to see the shard we’re going to be spending the next two weeks practicing on?”

“No.”

William smiled, as he watched his people walk over to collect the first machine from the quartet of Royal Marines that had carefully wheeled it down the ramp. “Really, you seemed pretty excited to see your first Shard up-close last week? What happened to that Bonnlyn?”

“She saw one. Three even. It was very moving,” Bonnlyn deadpanned. “The first time.”

“Bonnlyn…” Verity chided, to utterly no effect. “It’s not that early.”

The dwarf just sniffed, breath misting in front of her face in the twilight rays of the dawning sun. “Agree to disagree, country girl.”

William was about to get in his own bit of teasing, but paused as he caught sight of a familiar figure striding down the ramp after the second shard.

“Instructor Griffith?” he called out as he jogged over to her, uncaring of the way his team stiffened literally as one behind him.

“Cadet Ashfield,” the dark elf called back, tugging her uniform jacket tightly around herself as a stray blast of aether billow forth from the ship’s ballasts. “Or should I call you Count Redwater now?”

William instinctively moved to say that either worked, before pausing as he recalled the importance of placing the proper respect on his new title. “Count Redwater is probably for the best, Instructor.”

The woman nodded stiffly as she came to a stop in front of him, eyes shifting over his shoulder to take in the distant figures of his team and the Redwater Household guard that were present, before shifting back to his face.

“In that case, you should call me Countess Griffith in turn,” she said. “Back at the academy it will be different, of course, but here and now, we are theoretically of equal rank.”

“Not Joana?” he teased before he could help himself.

However, rather than the instant denial he’d expected, he was surprised as the woman hesitated. “Not… in public.”

Oh, that was interesting.

“Of course, Inst- Countess Griffith,” he nodded in the courtly fashion. “In that case, as one Count to another, I bid you welcome to my domain. Though I do find myself slightly curious as to why someone of your standing would be sent on such a menial errand.” He paused. “Not that I’m not delighted to see you. I am.”

And that was the truth. As far as he was concerned, any day in which he got to see Instructor Griffith rocking a new outfit was a good one. And while he thought the blue-grey uniform of Griffith County was quite nice, he preferred her usual Instructor’s outfit.

“As ever, it is my privilege to go wherever Her Majesty commands,” she shrugged. “And given the enormity of the gift she’s presenting you, she thought it prudent for it to have a trusted escort, even if my time spent as an escort from the capital to here was measured in minutes.”

He resisted the urge to frown at that. Given recent events, he was pretty sure the gift she was delivering was less a “gift” and more of a ‘bribe’ to keep his mouth shut. Still, he wasn’t so uncouth as to say that aloud.

“Not that I’d be so uncouth as to discount the value of a borrowed shard or even the frame accompanying it, are you sure your presence alone isn’t the true gift here, Countess?” he teased, enjoying the fact that there current circumstances had rendered them ‘equals’ of a sort.

Plus, the errant squeaking and groaning of the airship behind them served to muffle the sound of their conversation to any curious listeners. Of which there were several, given the marines and his guard had finished unloading the shards and the rest of his team was still watching him.

However, rather than be flustered by his words like he’d hoped, the woman adopted an expression of puzzlement? “The shards? I mean, I suppose they have some value, but surely that is barely worthy of mention against the value of the ship itself?”

“The… what do you mean the ship?”

The woman eyed him. “What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? Didn’t Yelena-”

The dark elf paused, a weary sigh escaping her. “No, of course she didn’t. That would be just like her.” She eyed him. “This ship is yours, William. A belated gift of Yelena for the many services you’ve done for our country.”

William found his mouth struggling to work as he glanced between the elf and the massive ship behind her, as if only just now seeing it for the first time.

And in a way, he was. Prior to just now it had simply been ‘a ship’.

Now it was ‘his ship’.

And it was beautiful.

And big.

Very big.

Perhaps a few dozen meters short of being a true cruiser, it was either an exceptionally large frigate or a light cruiser.

One of fairly unfamiliar make, if he was totally honest.

“She’s… giving this to me?” he breathed. "I mean, I know I requested a ship, but... this is a goddamn cruiser!"

Smiling quietly, Griffith nodded. “That he is. The Core you left in our care has already been installed after the old one was moved into a new frame.” The dark elf smiled as she looked up at the massive vessel. “The Jellyfish has always been a bit of an odd-duck in the eyes of the royal navy. He originally started out as an oversized transport, before the then admiralty decided that having a single dedicated transport for large contingents of marines was both a strategic weakness in the event of its loss and less useful than having more guns on the line. To that end they decided to strip out the extra transport capacity, add steel plating to the outer hull and install more gun decks. Making him into a light cruiser.”

William glanced up the ramp and saw that her words were correct, while the outer hull gave off the veneer of a more modern steel-framed ship, the truth was it was simply a skin covering the wooden frame. By and large, a fairly common upgrade intended to give older ships more staying power in a fight.

“And then he was adapted again,” William mused as he glanced at the underside of the craft, where no less than four shard drop-bays sat.

Griffith nodded. “That he was. From a light cruiser into a pseudo-shard carrier. One of the first attempts at such.”

“Not a particularly spirited one at just four bays. And I still count ten gun ports on this side.” William noted.

“Yes, hence why the design is still considered an odd duck. The rather lackluster shard complement for what is ostensibly a ‘carrier’ means it can’t really ensure small craft dominance in an engagement, yet the equally lacking gun complement means that if you move it up from the second line, it’s little more than a cumbersome, oversized and undergunned target.”

“Which is why Yelena’s pawning it off on me,” he decided.

“Which is why Yelena’s using the Jellyfish’s rather lacking reputation as an excuse to gift you with a light cruiser,” Griffith pointed out. “Make no mistake, off-hand I can think of a number of ships the Royal Navy could afford to lose before this one.”

Ok, he could admit she had a point. Poorly optimized for any given role or not, the Jellyfish was a light cruiser by definition. Usually ships of that scale were the domain of ducal fleets or well established wealthier counties. Definitely not the sort of thing that fell into the hands of freshly founded houses like his own.

Hell, just receiving an airship at all was cause for celebration. Creating a new frame for their core was typically the first and biggest hurdle for any newly founded house.

“I’m grateful then,” he said. “Though I can’t help but ask… the Jellyfish?”

Griffith didn’t quite roll her eyes, but he could see the temptation was there. “The Royal Navy has roughly thirty six ships in service at any given moment. The Crownlands have a roughly equal number. As does every other duchy on the continent. Not all of them can have names like ‘Indomitable’.

“Still… the Jellyfish?”

“Do you want the cruiser or not?” She laughed. “I’m sure we have a sloop somewhere with a far more impressive name. Given the size of your core it’d be a bit of a waste – also a contributing factor in you getting this ship – but I’d hate for you to feel short changed by being provided a vessel with a poor name.”

“Oh no,” William shook his head rapidly. “A cruiser is a cruiser. I’m just wondering whether I could change the name.”

Given the way the dark elf visibly twitched, apparently not.

“It’s considered bad luck to change a ship’s name,” she said slowly, words studiously neutral.

“The Jellyfish it will remain then,” he sighed, eliciting a look of relief from the woman.

Griffith smiled. “Make no mistake William, this is a princely gift. With that said, it’s nothing less than you deserve. Good service requires equal recompense, and while your gifting of these lands and very full bank account go some way to fulfilling that debt, in the eyes of the Crown, Yelena clearly felt it wasn’t enough to truly even the scales.”

William scratched the back of his neck at the honest praise, even as part of him thought about how the ship was likely an attempt to lessen the sting that came from the secret of the Kraken Slayer being forced out of him.

Which he would admit, as he gazed up at the massive ship, this went some ways towards doing.

Some ways.

Given just how desperate the entire country currently was for ship frames, he’d expected to have to make his own. Something that would have taken at least a year even with his plans to create the smallest one he could reasonably get away with.

To that end, Yelena had made good on her promise to repay him, even if he fully intended to continue nursing a small grudge over the woman threatening his sister. It was unreasonable, but he didn’t have to be reasonable where his sister was concerned.

Even if she was a greedy power-hungry brat, she was his greedy power-hungry brat, and anyone that tried to hurt her would die screaming.

Carefully keeping such thoughts from his face, he turned to Griffith. “Well, I am thankful. To that end, I think we can continue this conversation inside. If we stand out here in the cold any longer, I can’t help but feel Bonnlyn will be most cross with me.”

Griffith glanced over to where the quartet of girls was standing. “I would have thought that nearly a year of early morning PT would have cured her of that kind of softness.”

He laughed. “Not quite. Merely cultivated both a tolerance and an aversion. She’s well aware we’ve got but a fortnight before the new semester starts and she’s eager to enjoy what creature comforts she might before they’re once more stripped from her.”

Griffith scoffed good naturedly, but followed along.

“Now,” he continued. “The crew-”

“Are on-loan and willing to act as trainers for their replacements. The Queen has heard of your desire for autonomy and has no desire to…”

------------------------

It didn’t surprise him at all that rather than stick around, his team chose to make themselves scarce the moment they stepped into his workshop. For all that he rather enjoyed the company of the dark elf sitting opposite him, his team were not of the same mindset. Or at least, they struggled to see through the visage of Instructor to the delightful woman beneath.

Their loss, I suppose, he thought.

Either that or they were currently charging out to board his new airship. For all that Bonnlyn claimed fatigue where new shards were concerned, he couldn’t help but feel that a light cruiser might elicit a little more excitement on her part. Certainly, the group as a whole had looked a little… stunned, when he’d admitted that the massive vessel occupying his landing field now belonged to him.

Still, he’d not deny he was thankful for it. Teasing Griffith was all well and good in private, but in public they needed to maintain the illusion of cadet and instructor.

Not that it was an illusion, they very much were cadet and instructor, but he liked to think that through audacity – if nothing else – he’d managed to claw out some degree of rapport with the woman outside of the confines of that relationship.

“My thanks Xera,” he said as he turned to the wood elf. “I’m certain the Countess and I will be fine from here on out. I’ll let you return to your duties. To that end, when you get the chance, I’d appreciate it if you could perform a quick audit of our county’s newest asset. And start drawing up plans for training of a crew for it.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, his castellan nodded stiffly before closing the doors to his workshop.

Idly running her hand over a series of blueprints, Griffith hummed. “Your new second seems a competent woman from what little I’ve seen of her.”

William took a swig of a nearby glass as he nodded. “Xera spent nearly forty years running this territory before I showed up. I’ll admit that experience makes my job easier.”

The dark elf eyed him. “Stillwater was also experienced. Yet you had her replaced for commanding more loyalty from your subjects than you yourself. What makes her replacement any different?”

He laughed. “I’d say there are a few key differences there. For one thing, Stillwater commanded loyalty from a group who very much weren’t my subject. That was the problem. Technically she was supposed to be my subordinate, but she had access to a group that I had no authority over and held more power than my own household guard – which she also ostensibly had command over.”

“The Royal Marines,” Griffith said.

“Just so.”

“Reasonable, I suppose,” she admitted reluctantly. “And the other differences?”

“Structural loyalty vs emotional loyalty.” He said without preamble. “My household guard answer to Xera as my castellan and because she has their respect, but beyond that they have an obligation me as count of Redwater. And beyond that they have an obligation to the Queen as citizens of Lindholm. As do we all.”

Griffith hummed and he continued.

“The Royal Marines? They had personal loyalty to Stillwater and structural loyalty to Yelena. Nowhere in that criteria was I included as Count. If I told them to arrest Yelena, they’d all refuse because… of course they would.” He shrugged. “By contrast, if I told my household guard to arrest Xera, some would hesitate out of personal loyalty to her, but I bet an equal number would obey out of structural loyalty to my position as their count.”

He paused. “Plus, over time I have the opportunity to win the personal loyalty of my people. By contrast, Stillwater could have transitioned out her marines every few weeks if she felt they were getting chummy with me.”

“Ugh,” Griffith grunted. “Talk like this is why I normally avoid politics.”

William reclined against a worksurface with a smile. “You brought it up.”

“I was curious,” she admitted. “After Yelena brought it up. Hearing your reasoning now though reminds me why I should stay in my lane.”

He cocked his head. “Aren’t you a countess yourself? Your territory is barely a few minutes away from here by airship. Surely you have to deal with some politics.”

“Less than you might think,” she said as she picked up one of the many metal objects on his desk. “My sister rules in everything but name – and I would give her that too, but if it didn’t’ prove useful on occassion.”

“As our dear Queen’s secret hand?”

William didn’t much care that she was clearly trying to discretely pilfer his secrets as he watched. His invisible watchers did the same every time he left the room. Which was why none of the blueprints present were “complete”. Each was but a part of a whole, and even then certain… elements were left unmentioned or substituted for something innocuous like water.

Piecing everything he had here into something like a cohesive whole would require a grounding in a number of sciences that just… didn’t exist in this world.

A clever enough soul might have been able to do it through context clues, but it would require a lot of luck on their part.

“No actually,” Griffith said as she put down the valve she was holding. “For when the department heads are competing for academy resources. I suppose that’s still politics, but of a more palatable variety to my eyes, given we all ultimately work for the good of Lindholm.”

She eyed him, irritation flashing in her silvery gaze. “No, I only found myself pulled into that role of ‘secret hand’ when one of my students turned himself into a national asset by casually upending the status quo as we understand it.”

More than a little amused at the rare show of emotion from the typically taciturn woman, he chuckled. “Sorry?”

“Accepted,” she sniffed. “But only grudgingly.”

He watched as she continued perusing his notes and other knickknacks. “You’re being surprisingly open.”

She hummed. “We’re more equal here and now. Merely a count and countess in service to our lady, at least here in this workshop. Just as in my office we’re Griffith and William. And just as within the rest of the academy…”

“We’re instructor and student,” he finished.

She nodded happily. “Indeed, and that level of insight is part of why I allow myself to subdivide our relationship so.”

“Relationship,” he leaned forward. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

A bare hint of a flush flashed across her features before she pulled up a sheet, practically using it a shield as she shoved it in front of him.

“What’s this?”

He eyed it.

“Two seconds.”

Then he splayed out both hands and sprayed a burst of aether in every direction. Not with any real force, but enough that the small area soon became filled with the vaguely transparent blue-green substance. Ignoring Griffith’s surprised cough, he searched the air for any… voids in the substance.

There were none.

Satisfied, he leaned back. “That, is part of a synchronization gear.”

Griffith just stared at him through the aether filled air. “Forget that, may I ask what this… bombardment was in aid of?”

He cocked his head. “I was just ensuring that we didn’t have any unwanted eavesdroppers. At first I tried spraying them with paint, but that just made any paint that touched them turn invisible too. Which I suppose makes sense, whatever method they use to make themselves transparent works on their clothes too.”

He waved his hand through the vapor in front of him, as it slowly began to fade from reality, the air getting clearer by the moment.

“So, if I couldn’t see them, I decided I’d come up with a method to see everything else.”

“Gaps in the aether,” Griffith realized.

He smiled, happy she’d caught on so quickly. “Just so.”

“Some might say that was mildly treasonous, to develop a countermeasure to the eyes of The Crown.”

“Some might say it was mildly tyrannical to have invisible spies following me at all hours of the day.”

“What if our Queen’s enemies discovered this technique?”

He laughed. “I’d be surprised if they don’t already have something better. Otherwise Yelena would probably have marched her people up North and had a few inconvenient malcontents disappeared.”

It would be insane to think that the Blackstones weren’t at least tangentially aware of Yelena’s invisible guards. For the reason he’d just mentioned. Indeed, he was pretty sure it was an open secret amongst those of sufficient social rank.

Of which his mother clearly didn’t qualify, given how loose lipped she’d been around him.

Which in turn spoke to a certain level of paranoia on the part of the Blackstones given they hadn’t revealed that capability to their co-conspirators. Though to what end, he couldn’t say.

Perhaps they’ve got their own invisible troops they’d rather keep secret?

And wasn’t that a discomforting thought.

Shaking his head, he continued speaking to Griffith. “It’s become a game at this point. They sneak in sometimes. I push them out.”

“And if they refused?” Griffith asked seriously.

His face went blank. “Then things would get complicated between us.”

“Ugh.” The woman did actually roll her eyes this time. “Must you choose to make everything so complicated?”

She turned, grabbing the same blueprint she’d grabbed before. “What’s a synchronization gear?”

“A means to shoot through a front mounted propellor without hitting the blades.”

Whatever answer the dark elf had been expecting, that wasn’t it as she froze, before turning around the sheet and frantically scanning it.

Which seemed odd to him. The notion that synchronization gears weren’t known already. They’d taken all of eight years to be developed on earth, and Shards had been around a lot longer than that.

And the locals weren’t stupid. Sure, magic had fucked with things like the early formation of chemistry in favour of alchemy, but given the importance of Shards, he would have thought more effort would be put into developing a synchronization gear.

Of course, like most things, the answer was rather simple after a moments thought.

Shards with front mounted propellors were rare.

Because the locals didn’t have synchronization gear.

And unlike on Earth where front mounted props were the only real viable option for early plane design, canard designs were quite viable with Shard type planes. The total lack of a big heavy conventional “engine” meant canards didn’t end up back heavy, which meant they didn’t end up falling backwards in a stall. Likewise, the fact that all pilots were mages and all pilots had flight suits, meant that every mage had an ‘ejector seat’ by default. Thus they didn’t risk being minced by the rear mounted propellor if they need to bail out.

With that said, rear mounted props were still vulnerable to fire from rear, and the props hitting the interrupted airflow created by the wings introduced vibrations into the frame, but those issues weren’t quite the death knell they’d been on Earth.

Still none of those issues were considered sufficient enough that a wholesale switch to front mounted props was ever attempted. Some existed, such as the venerable Roc, but they were an exception rather than a rule.

A case of lack of supply creating a lack of demand, William thought.

The need to mount weapons in the wings of front mounted props meant, which came with a whole host of other issues meant few front mounted props got built, and because few front mounted props existed, solutions for said problem weren’t really investigated.

 “The Crown would be very interested in such a thing… if you can pull it off,” Griffith said with feigned casualness as she put down the sheet.

“No doubt,” he said dryly, even as he made a mental note to make sure she didn’t leave with said blueprint – even if it was unfinished.

Looking down at his drink, he laughed. “Do you think I could get another cruiser out of it?”

Rather than laugh in return though, he was surprised by the sudden silence that greeted him. Or rather, not silence, if he strained his ears he could make out the telltale sound of shuffling.

Looking up, he froze.

“I-I don’t k-know about a cruiser, but I could think of a… another type of… reward.”

Idly, he couldn’t help but note that he’d never actually seen a dark elf with Griffith’s complexion turn quite that shade of red before.

It was an idle thought though. To the back of his mind. Mostly drowned out by the expanse of chocolate brown cleavage that was even now unveiling itself to him, delicious white lingerie serving to accentuate her breasts as Griffith continued to slowly unbutton her shirt…

It was almost enough to make his mind come to a complete stop.

Almost.

Because… white lingerie?

Griffith was many things. Very sexy and tantalizing things.

A wearer of lingerie though?

No. That didn’t seem right.

Not at all.

A very boring sports bra and briefs, that would have made sense.

Lingerie though.

Stupid sexy lingerie?

…Now, if only he could get his brain down below to stop salivating and listen to him that there was something distinctly off about this whole situation.

“Do… do you like?” she asked quietly, a total one-eighty from her usual personality doing terrible things to his self control.

“I do,” he gulped. “I really do.”