The tavern was tucked away from the towers and high places of Lear Terra, hidden just off the main road between the docks and the industrial area. Inside, among the flickering glow of spark globes and outdated oil lamps, those within The Bucking Wind danced, sang, and plied their tongues, emboldened by the tavern’s ample inventory of liquid courage.
Most of the patrons wore olive green peacoats, readily identifying them as Coalition airmen. Fresh off their airships, they caroused and engaged in feats of bravado while heckling each other mercilessly. Outside, the crewmen might be met with harsh glances and angry stares, but the heady atmosphere of the tavern left no room for such. The remaining patrons, while no less rowdy, were of various means, races, and garb, a cosmopolitan blend, much like the city itself.
Three figures sat at the darkest end of the bar, doing their best to cling to the shadows and nurse their drinks. One, a dwarf with a dark complexion and blond hair, glared over a handkerchief at the man next to him, sniffling constantly. The cloth hid a two-fold shame; his nose, which was quite small for a dwarf and thus caused him no small measure of teasing in his younger years, and the constant suffering that resulted from his drinking. Whether or not Geddik was allergic to spirits or otherwise, no upstanding dwarf would admit, and neither would he. Whenever it seemed convenient, he would reach into one of the many pockets of his patchy, brown robe and produce another handkerchief, the supply seemingly endless.
“Ugh,” Geddick lamented, his voice low, “this is place is awful.” He looked around the tavern. “Greenwings everywhere. We are wasting our time, Ronin.”
The man’s piercing green eyes scanned the dark corners, taking in the entirety of the common room. Dark, gray-peppered hair framed the face of one who had seen a fair share of years, but aged gracefully, with hard lines and a sharp jaw. His skin was neither light nor dark, but the chestnut color that resulted from spending one to many days among the clouds. He wore a brown cross-button shirt, gray pants, and black Arlian boots; he also carried a handbow on his right hip and a handful of throwing knives lined his belt.
“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Ronin replied without looking at his friend.
“Tes probably agrees. What about ya? Eh, lass?” Geddik asked, looking to his right.
The elf leaned up against the bar and moved a strand of silver-white hair away from her face. Tes was tall and thin, twice Geddik and a head over Ronin. She was not dressed provocatively—a regular white top and red pants with leather boots—but the clothing fit well, hinting at subdued power and hidden grace. A scar bisected her left eye, and where one might expect to find a patch or false eye, was instead a circular apparatus of wheels and gears. Electricity arced in the center of the device and it retracted and expanded like the pupil of an eye. A similarly constructed gadget sat atop her right arm and stretched from wrist to mid-limb, a long cylinder on a bed of gears and cogs flanked by a pair of bulky magazine boxes.
“I think I stopped being ‘lass’ a long time ago,” the elf replied.
Geddik laughed. “Isn’t that—” He stopped short as a drunken Greenwing stumbled into Tes. The airman turned around, grinned, and attempted to put his arms around the elf.
“Hey! Wanna have some fun with a—” In one swift movement Tes punched the man in the throat. As he doubled over, she slammed a boot into his groin and brought her elbow across his temple. He hit the floor instantly, unconscious. The three looked up apprehensively, but the only response was laughter from around the tavern at the sailor’s failure. His friends soon came and retrieved the poor fellow, giving Tes a wide berth as they did so.
Geddick placed the cloth over his nose and looked over at Ronin. “Why we even here?”
“Him.” Ronin motioned across the tavern toward an awkward-seeming young man sitting at one of the many tables. He wore a Coalition officer’s uniform and appeared to be there with a small group of friends. Still, he spoke rarely and offered little more than the occasional smile and odd laugh.
“This job related?” Tes asked as she took a swig.
“Nothing less. Come on.” Ronin moved away from the bar, navigating the crowd. The raven-haired stranger was saying his goodbyes. Eventually he managed to break free and make his way to the exit, followed by Ronin and company. They left the noisy confines of the tavern and headed east, away from the dockside, toward uptown. The three weaved among the towers of Lear Terra, stalking their prey. When satisfied with their surroundings, Ronin motioned for Geddik and they began moving to flank the Greenwing. They moved into one of the dark side streets and Ronin gave the signal.
Geddick began weaving a litany of words and phrases, a rough song of measured beauty and immense complexity. His fingers danced through the air and crimson runes traced the path. They lit up the area around his face as they sparked into existence and then winked out. A translucent snake appeared and swiftly slithered from the dwarf’s feet toward the passing officer. The snake’s incorporeal form struck without hesitation, wrapping around the young man and squeezing. He froze mid-step and fell forward with only a gurgling sound. Tes and Ronin rushed out and brought him into the sheltering darkness, where they threw him against a wall.
“Hello, Warrant Officer Alisto, my name’s Ronin, and these here are my compatriots.” Ronin motioned to each side. “Now, when my friend removes his charm, we will have your complete cooperation or…” Ronin glanced over at Tes. She raised her arm and a steel bolt exploded from the device on her wrist into the wall beside them, disappearing entirely. Tes eyed the ensign as her custom wristbow began whirring and clicking as it wound itself back up. “You become the wall. She calls it her hole puncher. She’s mighty fond of it from what I hear.”
The look of abject fear in the unfortunate officer’s eyes said all that was necessary. A gesture from Geddik and the snake dissipated with a hiss. “I-I’m j-just a-a Warrant Officer, I don’t know much of anything,” he blurted out immediately.
“Ah, but you know enough.” Ronin replied with a smile. He palmed a throwing knife and moved closer to the terrified man’s face. “You serve on the Dreadmark, correct? One nod will do.” The officer nodded eagerly. Tes and Geddik looked at one another as if startled.
“You said this was business,” Geddik murmured.
Ronin motioned for quiet. “When you landed at Saint Berrus, what did you take?”
“Uh-,” Alisto stammered, “s-something the brass wanted real bad, a power source of some kind. We weren’t told much.”
Ronin brought the knife closer. “Still have it?”
Alisto hesitated before replying. Ronin took a step back and threw his knife. It landed just above the victim’s head, cutting off a sprig of hair. “Oh, by Kedu, ah-ah, yes, yes it’s still there! We are taking it to Loranin. Admiral Clennis wants to make a big deal of it.”
“I see,” Ronin’s voice dropped to a growl, “and where is it kept now?” Tes slowly brought her hole puncher level with Alisto’s face.
The officer looked away, closing his eyes. “One of the locked cargo rooms in the aft probably, but you’re mad if you think you can get in though. No reason—”
“That’s good enough.” Ronin interrupted and looked over at Geddik. “Knock him out.” The dwarf began incantations anew, runes flickering in the air. Suddenly, Tes cracked the officer across the back of the head with her fist. His eyes rolled up and he slumped to the ground. “I suppose that’ll do,” Ronin said with a smile.
Geddik glared at Tes. “A waste of my time lass, it takes strength ya know.” Tes shrugged in reply, forcing Geddik to shake his head in disgust. Quietly, they hid the ensign and bound him. Done, they stepped back into the streets, moving quickly toward dockside, Ronin in the lead.
***
The Dreadmark loomed over the others vessels on their docking platforms, the carrier’s five masts an impressive sight among the long shadows of the moonless night. She carried a total of seventy cannon; twenty-eight 32-pounders on the lowest deck, thirty 18-pounders on the mid, and a mix of falconet, minion, and saker cannons on the upper deck—for anti-personnel purposes. Few ships could best her in a firefight, but that was not her strength. Inside her hull, the Dreadmark held a dozen or so smaller gliders, dragonfly or wasp class, which could be deployed from a rear door to harass enemy ships and surface resistance alike.
A number of strategically placed metal plates protected the ship’s wooden hull and a pair of enormous propellers protruded from her stern. Despite the bulk, the Dreadmark’s multiple arc engines and half a dozen triangular canvas rudders on each side of the ship enabled a speed belying her size. She sat on her platform, waiting to take to the skies.
Tes scanned the massive ship from a hidden shelter of stacked freight containers. A series of audible clicks came from her clockwork eye as she slowly rotated a small dial on the side of the device.
“Well?” Ronin whispered after a few moments had passed.
“Two by the ramp, another four topside, at least.” She paused for a moment and the clicks continued. “Not good at all.”
Ronin leaned back and appeared to be mulling the situation over. Tes and Geddik exchanged glances. Geddik sighed. “Ya sure the pay is worth it? This is big fish here, Ronin. We understand how ya feel about the Coalition, we were there too ya know, but getting killed won’t be helping us a bit.”
Ronin looked up, daggers in his gaze. “Ten thousand keel weights, each” he growled between clenched teeth, “and we get that twice over if we deliver the item”
Tes gave a low whistle. “That’s enough for me.”
Geddik rolled his eyes. “Not if we don’t make it out alive.”
Ronin quieted them both with an angry stare. “Fine, it is about revenge. You may have been there, Geddik, but you didn’t see the look on Lara’s face when they blew the Silverwing’s bow off and took her with it. I watched her fall into the sky, clawing at the air and screaming my name.” Ronin jabbed a finger at the dwarf. “You didn’t.”
Tears welled in the corners of Geddik’s eyes. “We… we all cared lad.”
“You go too far, Ronin,” Tes said, her face hard.
The man with lines on his face and fury in his eyes looked away. “You are right. I apologize,” he turned back around, now under control, “but we have a chance to make it even and get rich. The contract is to steal whatever was taken from St. Berrus. We get in and get out, that’s all.” Ronin put a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “You with me?”
Geddik hesitated, sighed, and returned the gesture. “Aye, I’ll do it.” Tes nodded in agreement.
“Good, now then, how do we get in? I think we might be able to grapple our way up if we are fast enough.”
Tes shook her head. “Too risky,” she replied, “but I have an idea. We can access the ship through the rear engines’ propeller assembly.”
“Wait a moment.” Geddik’s eyes narrowed. “Is that safe?”
“Well… yeah.” Tes paused in thought. “I mean, as long as they don’t turn one of the arc engines on.” Ronin smiled at Geddik.
The dwarf rolled his eyes again. “You realize the chances of us pulling this off are incredibly slim?”
“Never tell me the chances,” Ronin replied, pulling throwing knives from his belt. “Let’s go.”
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Stories in the Ether, Issue #4
A Digital Storytelling Anthology
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Stories in the Ether is a quarterly story telling anthology of fantasy, steampunk, and science fiction short stories from Nevermet Press. This issue features 11 compelling works including:
- The Gorgon’s Love, by Martin Shelby
- The Stars at Night, by JC Hemphill
- Big Heart, by David J. Fielding
- The Chase, by J. A. Gonzales
- A New Beginning, by Colin W. Campbell
- The Mechanical Turk, or All’s Well That Ends, by Tucker Cummings
- Shelled, by M. R. Williamson
- Exodus, by Eric Staggs
- The Emerald City, by Per Wiger
- The Occurrence of the Cavalry Horse, by Teel James Glenn
- Empyrean Skies, by David Gaither
With artwork by Paul Hagwood
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