[center][URL=http://s638.photobucket.com/user/jnrgnymd/media/ottawa-update-1_zpsxnujga80.jpg.html][IMG]http://i638.photobucket.com/albums/uu102/jnrgnymd/ottawa-update-1_zpsxnujga80.jpg[/IMG][/URL][/center] [center]The High Skies above Oceanica ------------------------------ 1st Septimo 1759[/center] 13,500 feet above Allevent, the cloud systems that leave the Streċċan Seas in nigh-perpetual storm coverage finally break and reveal the clear sunny skies of a balmy summer afternoon. Below this layer, known as the [i]inferieur line[/i] but referred to by many simply as 'the chop,' heavy rainstorms and high winds buffet the waters and islands of Oceanica, forever making crossing by sea a dangerous undertaking. For centuries ships have made that journey from one continent to another, stopping in the island archipelago system of Oceanica for repairs and resupplies as needed, and for centuries the pirates of Oceanica have preyed on these shipping lines. With the advent of airships merchants and passengers can journey in relative safety above the inferieur line, increasing the profitability of both trade, and of plunder. The [i]Aleph Null[/i], a Brigantine-class airship, cut a trim line through the chop as it sailed west across Oceanica, its distinctive narrow hull a quarter submerged in the gray swirling masses of the thunderclouds below. Although the sky engines that power airships' flight run on the wind [i]caith[/i] stannum, they also require significant cooling in the form of vivum, the water [i]caith[/i]. Whereas the stannum must be of the utmost stability and quality and necessitates the use of large, refined crystals housed in the sky engine, the vivum coolant need be little purer than the free [i]caith[/i] abundant in the atmosphere, which is why airships skim along the chop, like sailing vessels across the waves. Intake vents along the ribbed wooden hull run vivum and water particles through to the engine room before releasing the heated exhaust from the aft in a plume of white steam. The higher the sky engine's output the more coolant needed, the lower in the chop the airship therefore flies, and the greater the turbulence it experiences. With its sleek profile the [i]Aleph Null[/i] required less coolant even at its higher speeds, and sitting high in the chop it encountered little more buffeting than a steady roll back-and-forth, with an occasional thump as it broke through rough patches. Its sails shimmered white in the afternoon sun - not the canvas of old but an expensive cloth called ventus, made to capture not wind but free stannum, piping the [i]caith[/i] down the ship's twin masts to help charge the sky engine's pure crystals. Although not only too expensive but also too inefficient to provide all of the energy required to change altitudes, unfurled ventus sails allowed airships to coast at a given height with little depletion of their stannum crystals, and are therefore most often seen at the cruising height of the inferieur line. Unlike the open waters of sea travel, airship navigation is rarely a direct matter of A-to-B. With cumulus clouds dotting the skies like small island coves, and large plumes of cumulonimbus clouds towering tens of thousands of feet higher than the inferieur line, ships generally choose to navigate around such structures. Not only are changes in altitude costly, but even cutting through these structures is quite rare, as ventus sails risk being torn unless drawn in, and the risk of the Caithness encountered in the skies drastically increases in these hidden pools and eddies. [center]------------------------------[/center] A cutting southerly wind raced over the portside railing and swept right through Grady like his trenchers coat was a bullfighter's red cape. Despite his wide frame he staggered a step or two before reaching the small alcove around one of the main deck's ladder, this leading to the middle deck, recessed within the hull of the ship and protected from the elements. He moved through the hallway toward the back of the ship, shoulders nearly brushing either side, ducking slightly beneath each evenly-spaced bulkhead. The infirmary was the aftmost room on this deck, one deck below the Great Cabin, itself just beneath the navigation room. Grady entered without knocking, merely thrusting the door open as though testing the hinges' damage threshold. He ducked his head in to look around and find the ship's doctor, Vylmor Octavius. "Your man had better know what the fuck he's talking about, Doctor," he growled, referring to the informant that had them trawling in this part of the sky for the last two days. Despite being the ship's doctor there was more to Vee than gauze and gangrene - the man seemingly and inexplicably had connections throughout Allevent, none with reputations befitting a doctor's sterling image. Despite his grumbling Grady knew the doctor's information was usually good, but for whatever reason he liked to poke his head in and badger the man regardless, with this being the fourth or fifth such instance since they began cruising this patch of clouds yesterday morning. That was generally how it seemed to be - if the captain sought you out to curse or threaten then you were probably in his good favor. Those he either didn't seek out, or those he maintained perfect civility with, were likely the ones currently operating under his displeasure. "Find that d'Arrowen girl too, and keep her with you during the battle. If you need help treating anyone, need supplies, whatever, have her take care of it. Just keep her underfoot, yah?" After hearing the doctor's reply, and maybe throwing another threat the man's way, Grady would close the door behind him and turn for the nearest ladder. As he made to climb down, a runner peered around the corner and spotted him. "Message for you from Ms. Rennway, Captain," the lad said as he approached. "Yah?" Grady asked, still halfway down the ladder. "Report to the navigation room, sir." Grady sighed as he went to climb upward again, when a sudden jerk in the ship's hull nearly made him lose his footing. The runner stumbled too, as the ship lurched and dropped before rising again, like a bronco bucking its rider. "Fucking Kisaki!" he shouted before leveling his glower back at the runner. "Find First Mate Williams, tell him to meet me in the navigation room in..." he contemplated how long it would take to throttle Shinrei Kisaki, his Master Wright. "Five minutes!" With that he slid the rest of the way down the ladder and headed once again to the back of the ship, this time on the lowest deck, where the engine room was located. "Report!" he barked as he ducked into the crowded engine room. The sky engine took up virtually all of what had originally been the brig and magazine galley, and the vents, pipes and cables feeding into its heart ran along the floor, walls and ceiling of the deck like the ivy of some overrun manor. As he listened to his engineer Grady bent down to peer at the stannum chamber, glowing orange through the small thick glass window with a brightness that made him squint. He rapped a knuckle lightly against the pane. "We could be going to battle any minute now - I don't want this bitch hiccuping on me again, yah?" He didn't add that it was his own fault the sky engine was 'hiccuping' - for the past two days he'd told Rennway to keep the [i]Aleph Null[/i] as high in the chop as possible, to reduce their steam plume wake and minimize the risk of detection. Add that to trawling slowly in a vessel not meant to idle this long and a sky engine not drinking enough coolant because of their pace and it was a wonder the ship hadn't fallen from the sky yet. "Just keep her flying!" he'd order at the end of the conversation before turning and striding back out the door. On his way back to the quarterdeck where he'd find the navigation room, Grady ran into his Master Gunner, Balder Goldenwood. "You got your end squared away old man?" he asked as he clapped the huge man hard on the shoulder in greeting. "I don't want just any broke-dick sailor running aboard now; I want a small crew of your best, led by you, yah?" It was something they'd already gone over, numerous times since leaving Havenstad for this mission. The boarding party was to be half the fighting crew of the [i]Aleph Null[/i], some twenty-odd men, led by Grady and Williams. Their goal was to keep the deck clear and the defending forces occupied, while Balder led a smaller team belowdecks to find the prize the doctor's informant had called out. "And make sure you take Latvanen with you," Grady added as he strode down the hallway for the ladder. He wondered who else, aside from Marko Latvanen, the Master Gunner would round up for his team. That mute son-of-a-mare Lasrach would be a good choice provided they didn't wedge themselves shoulder-to-shoulder trying to walk down a hallway together. Grady continued on his way up to the navigation room, addressing sailors as he passed. Although Williams had briefed the crew on the battle plan even before they broke the chop leaving Havenstad, and everyone knew their respective roles, Grady made sure everyone was able to quickly declare their directions by getting in their face and barking questions at them. He needed to know they could remember their orders even under the stress of pitched battle, and the closest way he could simulate that without unloading his firearm at their feet, was to snap questions out and see how quickly they responded. Finally back on the main deck and heading toward the quarterdeck where the navigation room was housed, Grady stopped to scan the horizons. The chop stretched out before him as far as the eye could see in all directions, a uniform gray bleakness save where it was broken up by the massive 'anvil' cloud towers that stretched seemingly to the heavens, so large that they cast their own shadows on the sky floor below. With the sun directly behind one such tower Grady strained his eyes to peer into the swirling mists backlit by the sun's brilliant rays. He wondered if any of the roiling shapes he saw flickering within were Caithness. Like so much of navigating these skies, skirting along these cumulonimbus towers was all about walking a fine line - if you got close enough you could use the towers to mask your own exhaust wake and reduce detection; but too close and you tempted any possible hidden Caithness within to pounce. Caithness large enough to take down an airship like the [i]Aleph Null [/i] were quite rare - legendary in fact - but smaller Caithness could still rip through your ventus sails, damage your navigation instruments and of course snatch up any exposed sailors on the deck. That's why it was important to have the best navigator in the sky aboard your ship - it was more than just plotting lines and setting courses; the best ones could read the clouds at a glance, could track another ship's wake while burying their own, and spoke of the sky like it was an old friend, a bitter enemy and their one true love all rolled into one. He'd have to ask Octavius if there was a Folkl word for that. "Captain on the deck!", the runner from earlier announced when Grady closed the door behind him. The navigation room sat squarely above his Great Cabin below, but while his Cabin held room enough for his private quarters as well as his officers' mess area and war room, the navigation room was a single open expanse, all four walls made of glass panes that the swabbies mopped daily. Flight controls, maps, star maps, astrolabe, observation equipment - all it needed was a cot and a chamber pot and he knew his Sailing Master would never leave. "Ms. Rennway, report," he said, coming to stand at just to the right of the helm beside her, hands clasped loosely behind his back as he scanned the skies once more. According to the doctor's informant, their target would be on a course through this section of the sky today. They'd been trawling slowly through the chop since yesterday, and although Grady wouldn't admit it he was starting to get a little restless. 'Hurry up and wait' had been the army motto during the Sorrowars, but nearly twenty years later it seemed he still hadn't developed an old soldier's patience.