Flakies

The lorelei crystal shone brighter, the pulsating white light filling the hold. Amante, strapped to the leather control chair, sits with his eyes closed, the cool metal of the helmet pressing on his forehead. His conciousness swims in the tortous energies of the aether. Joining him, were the elementals, Castor and Pollux.

The ship jolted forward, advancing, slowly, the sails billowing in the wind. All around, the crews were running frantically, stowing equipment, trimming sails, hauling ammunition crates and adjusting the repeating crossbows. Siege crews loading grapnel launchers. AirMen and Grenadiers of the nascent Imperial AirCorps were climbing the rigging and masts to the reach the fighting tops. Circular platforms with metal plated sides, one was found in the foremast and the other at the main mast with a single connecting plank. From there, they could rake an enemy ship's deck with a hail of bolts, cork topped bombs or use the new Dwarven Nock-gun. A crude iron and wooden, seven barreled musket that could fire seven lead shot simultaneously.

With the Fury were the Imperial AirFrigates, the pitch throwing, Buchanan and the firebreather, Arbalest. They composed the task force with orders to harrass the flanks and cut off enemy reinforcement. Vague and shit orders the tunnel rats called them. "Enemy resistance could prove greater than expected" the Buchanan's Captain, Evans said "how will be reinforced or resupplied?" Capt Copeland of the Arbalest added. "You will fight and while doing so, maintain discipline. Until victory or destruction!" was Eobard's short reply, before calling them all "flakies" for questioning his orders. They were all dumbstruck at the prospects of a suicide mission.

When the aircrews were told of the Commanders insult, the name had stuck. Grimnar adjusted the wheel and gave an order to the Signalman to write back to command that Flakie 3 was making good headway to the rendezvous.

The crew had settled into their action stations when AirMan Hollam from the crows nest yelled "Contact, 10 klicks off the port bow!" "Beat to general quarters!" Gualterio barked. "Raise the colors!" Grimnar said.

- Edge of Worlds: Year Unknown