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“We have them sighted, Commodore,” whispered Commander Arlen.
“Thank you,” she replied in the same whisper.
Commodore Knight knew that they had been signaling, but she was not currently looking through the sorcerous night-vision scope. Without it, the signal lanterns would be invisible.
They were sailing above the waves at just over ten feet - as slow as if they would be on the surface. They had black sails hoisted and were under orders for complete silence. Whispers among crew within earshot only, necessary conversations only, and otherwise, night lanterns and scopes for line-of-sight communications alone.
The Seventh Fleet had not been easy to get in line, but Aria had managed none-the-less. The ships and captains she was having the most difficulty with had been left back at the delta of the river, to guard their backs. That included a trio of brigs, four schooners, four sloops, and three corvettes. There were also two carracks and two frigates.
The rest of the Seventh Ealantic Fleet was now sailing upriver, mostly behind the remaining eleven ships of the Knight Fleet. Aria had added three more sloops, two schooners, a brig, two frigates, two carracks, a galleon, and two more corvettes. It was an impressive force, and they were all set to do some impressive things.
Matters had gotten very interesting, starting just before the meeting with Admiral Rustic and the rest of the Ealantic Commodores.
<->
Admiral Rustic had planned all along to meet up with Aria prior to the gathering with the fleet commanders. She had made her way aboard the Valiant and met Rustic in his quarters.
“Commodore,” he had addressed her.
“Admiral,” she’d replied.
“Looks like you’ve seen some action here.”
“Yes, sir. We took a bit of a beating, but we bested quite the interesting little Cromah fleet.”
“I’ve read your report. That’s why I have called you and the rest of the commodores here.”
“You have a plan?”
He had sighed. “I do. But I know there will be resistance.”
“Sir.”
“What do you know of Commodores Gralph, Mordven, Bridgen and Jennik?”
Aria had thought long and hard about it. “Well, sir...permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Please do, Commodore.”
“Admiral, all of them were appointed by Admiral Tirkan personally, and they were absolutely loyal to him. I suspect they will be rather troublesome if you present them with any ideas contradictory to Tirkan’s. Despite Tirkan being arrested and executed, I expect they will remain loyal to his ideals and vision.”
Rustic had grunted and leaned back in his chair. “I am expecting precisely that, Commodore Knight. They have already protested my orders to gather here, so I expect them to arrive in an ill temper.”
“Sir,” Aria had begun, choosing her words with care, “if I may be so bold...you are sharing quite a bit with me. What...would you have me do?”
“What is the punishment for mutiny, Commodore?”
“Death, sir.”
“Yes. Do you understand?”
Aria had taken mildly aback. That was not something at all she’d expected from Rustic. But she knew him well enough to know that his support would go a long way towards her own ambitions, so she readily agreed to take the necessary action.
When the time came, she moved as planned.
In one swift stroke, Rustic had effectively cemented his command of the entire Ealantic Fleet, as well as firmly established his authority. Aria’s place at his side had been made clear as well. Her own position would be unquestioned.
<->
Had there been more time, Aria would have dealt more firmly with the captains who kept such loyalty to the late Admiral Tirkan. Since Rustic’s meeting had been closed, the fleet officers were told only that the commodores had been forced to ‘retire’, and new command was now established.
This still did not stop some dissention and resistance to the changes Aria attempted to implement in the Seventh Fleet’s operations. Commodore Gralph may have been in his position due to politics, but he had been shrewd enough to keep loyal captains under his command.
After this mission, she would do what needed to be done to clean up the rest of her fleet.
Silently, with blackened sails, they glided up the river. Their target had been scouted out by specialized sailors she’d dispatched to the shore. Now it was the dead of night - not a normal time anyone would carry out such an attack. But Aria wanted it exactly that way.
“Commodore, all hands are ready,” reported Captain Orvin. “We are nearly in position.”
“Very good,” replied Commodore Knight quietly. “Seaman Trapp, signal the fleet. Take up positions and prepare to attack.”
“Aye, Commodore,” whispered the signalman. He took up his lantern, pointed it towards the sailors also equipped as such around the Talon, and began to signal.
The Talon was still not at one hundred percent. All of her cannon were replaced, and crew had been added to replace the dead, but patchwork repairs still held the galleon together. Her structural integrity was maybe seventy-five percent of what it should have been.
Aria could have taken command of any of the brigs in her fleet. Commodores were expected to take the bigger boats, but the Talon was her crew, and she knew the galleon stem to stern. She would not leave her familiar surroundings for the sake of appearances.
Further, the Knight Fleet was still a separate entity of the Seventh Fleet. They were an impressive team, and those captains who had taken to Aria’s command worked hard to glean as much from them as they could.
It was eerily quiet at this hour, and the wave action of the river was such that the lower speed and lower altitude, while stealthy, was also a requirement.
Black sails and the lack of light made them almost invisible. If anyone was awake at this hour, they’d not see the approaching two dozen ships. At least, not until it was far too late to do anything about them.
“Commodore, all ships reporting ready,” stated Commander Arlen. He had recovered from his wound, but he appeared frailer, and Aria knew that he was weaker than before his injuries. More experienced medics from the Valiant had gone over him, and they were certain he’d fully recover - with more rest. But Arlen was loath to neglect his duties, and Aria would not order him to do so.
“Starboard battery, make ready to fire,” whispered Captain Orvin.
The order was quietly passed on.
“Mister Novick?” Commodore Knight spoke.
Sergeant Novick pointed his crossbow in the air and fired. Nothing would be visible, unless you had a night scope trained on the sky.
The ships of the Seventh Fleet were expecting it.
“Fire broadside,” ordered Captain Orvin quietly.
It was loud and disjointed as the twenty-four ships of the Seventh Fleet respectively opened fire. The Talon rocked to the left harder than it had from pervious firings of the cannonade, but that was due to the structural damage from their last fight.
Commodore Knight took up her night scope and observed the damage their fire was doing on the shipyard.
“Second volley,” ordered Captain Orvin.
The order was passed, and again, the Talon fired a broadside.
It was a simple plan. The fleet was arrayed in a crescent along the bay that housed this shipyard. The smaller craft, specifically the corvettes and sloops, were pummeling the Cromah defenses, wiping out their cannonade. The rest of the fleet had targeted ships under construction or repair within the bay, as well as the various hangars, warehouses, and shops that made up the shipyard.
“Starboard cannon, fire broadside,” ordered Orvin once again.
The third volley fired, followed by a cracking sound that Aria swore she felt below her feet.
“Commodore, I think the spine of the deck support may have just snapped,” remarked Chief Crang.
“Mister Gorvam?” queried the commodore.
“I’m on it,” replied the quartermaster, rushing belowdecks.
The fires were impossible to miss. Shouts of alarm were going off, but the damage was already overwhelming the shipyard.
“I don’t know that we can safely fire another volley, Commodore,” remarked Captain Orvin.
“Let’s see what Gorvam reports,” replied Aria.
As if on cue, the quartermaster was coming up the stairs to the aft deck.
“Captain, Commodore,” he addressed them, a bit out of breath. “The spine is cracked. Sailors are shoring it up now, but Lieutenant Yonnis says we should be able to get off one last volley. However, he does not advise more than that.”
“Captain?” addressed the commodore.
“Starboard battery, fire,” called Captain Orvin.
Once more, the Talon shuddered, hard, and this time several people fell to the deck from the vibration. Commodore Knight and the rest of the group on the aft deck each had to grab hold to keep from falling.
There were more noises of cracking and snapping across the Talon. Structural integrity was clearly failing.
“I think that was our last shot, Commodore,” remarked Captain Orvin dryly.
“Mister Gorvam?”
“I’m on it again, ma’am,” stated the quartermaster. He descended from the deck and went below once more to check on the damage.
“Commander, signal the fleet. Order in the landing party.”
“Aye, Commodore,” he replied. “Mister Trapp.”
“Aye, sir.”
The signal went out. Aria could feel that the Talon was noticeably drifting a bit to port.
Gorvam was returning. “Commodore, Captain. We’ve a problem.”
“How bad is it?” asked the Captain.
Gorvam sighed. “The Talon is not in good shape, sir. We fire again, or take any kind of hit, the framing will not hold together. We’re doing everything we can to shore up the damage, but the Talon is pretty beat up.”
Aria looked out at the fires. “This is a shipyard. Maybe we can salvage some of the wreckage and use it to patch up the galleon.”
Gorvam looked out. “Maybe. If we didn’t destroy it all. I’ll prepare a party to head out there at first light and see to it.”
“Very good, Chief,” remarked the captain. “Commodore, I suggest we take up a position a bit more to the center of the river?”
“See to it, Captain,” stated Aria. She did not like to take her command craft out of the line of fire like that, for she believed that it was the command officer’s place to fight among one’s own. But she also recognized that her galleon would not take any further abuse at this time.
“I presume surfacing the boat would be a bad idea, Chief?” queried the captain.
“Aye, sir. With all the damage we’ve sustained, and not fully repaired, surfacing might breach the hull.”
“Repairs aflight?” questioned Commodore Knight.
Even in the low light, Aria could see Gorvam shrug. “That or we seriously risk breaking the boat apart. Seems a shame after all we’ve been through to wreck the Talon that stupidly. Pardon me, ma’am.”
Aria actually chuckled at the quartermaster’s candor. “It’s alright, Chief. See to our repairs as you can.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The night passed, and as the new day dawned, the Imperial naval forces were without opposition. The shipyard was in ruins.
There had been one warehouse that had been deep inside an inlet, and it was mostly spared. It housed a dozen of the small craft that had been called fighters by the late Commodore Brillvo.
The captain of one of the frigates, a man named Doff, reported it.
“He wants to know if he should clear his men and take out the warehouse, ma’am?” questioned Commander Arlen, having read the signals.
“No,” replied the commodore. “Tell him to secure them. I have an idea.”
Quartermaster Gorvam had taken a group to the yard. While the damage was incredible, they had managed to salvage enough pieces to make repairs to the Talon. It would be far from perfect, and far from finished, but it would allow more normal operations to resume. The damaged galleon could continue to serve until they could be drydocked for more proper and thorough repairs.
Aria gathered the captains of all the larger ships, assigning the corvettes a bit farther upriver on point, and the sloops down river doing the same.
She had taken a longboat ashore to meet the other eleven captains. Fires burned all around, and all was chaos, save the mostly undamaged warehouse.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” Aria addressed them. “Time is short; we do not want to remain here more than a few more hours. I need you to get volunteers for what might be a suicide mission.”
“Commodore?” questioned Captain Brokk of the Lordling.
“We need volunteers. Crews of six. At least three.”
“What have you in mind, ma’am?” questioned Captain Reedle of the brig Defiant.
“I want them to man those captured fighters,” Commodore Knight informed them straightaway. “I want them to go upriver and attack Sanctuaron.”
There were gasps among the captains.
“We can’t get that far upriver,” remarked Captain Olgam of the carrack Dragonfly.
“None of our ships, no,” replied Commodore Knight. “The waves are not strong enough. But these fighters are revamped river patrol craft. They can make it.”
“They aren’t too well armed,” remarked Captain Doff, having gotten the closest look at them.
“I know,” replied Aria. “That’s why I only wish to send three. We will cannibalize the other fighters for weaponry and better arm the ones we send to Sanctuaron. Then we’ll destroy the rest.”
“The river passage at Sanctuaron must be well fortified, Commodore,” remarked Captain Sprim of the galleon Shark’s Tooth. “What point do you believe it will serve?”
“It will serve notice to the Cromah Republic that they are not safe,” stated Commodore Knight. “It will break down the confidence of the people and reflect poorly on their navy overall.”
“And since we’ll be using their boats,” chimed in Captain Orvin, as if on cue, “they’ll not recognize the threat nor be able to stop it until it’s too late.”
“But you are right, Commodore, in that this may be a suicide mission,” remarked Captain Zolit of the schooner Seneschal.
“That’s true,” agreed Commodore Knight without pretense. “That is why I am seeking volunteers only. Make it clear to your people that while this would be a glorious mission, it will likely be a one-way trip.”
There were no further questions, and they parted ways and returned to their ships.
Captain Orvin gathered his crew on the deck of the Talon. He informed them of the Commodore’s plan, and that they had only hours until it had to go off. Aria was not surprised by the number of sailors who volunteered, but she was surprised by the officer who did so.
“No, Commander,” she told Arlen. “We need you here.”
“Commodore, with all due respect, my time here is short,” stated Arlen definitively.
“What do you mean?” questioned Orvin.
Arlen sighed. “My injuries. Sure, the docs think I will recover. But I know that even if I do, my time is short.”
He coughed into a handkerchief and showed it to Orvin and Knight. It had specks of blood upon it.
“They patched me up as well as they could, but...I don’t think I have too long.”
“Commander,” started Captain Orvin.
“Sir, ma’am...let me do this. Let me take command of the volunteers on those fighters.”
Her respect for Commander Arlen deepened exponentially. “Very well, Mister Arlen. I am promoting you to captain. Take only one other sailor volunteer from the Talon and go ashore. Choose crews, ready the fighters, and start sailing upstream.”
“Thank you, Commodore.”
Arlen chose Seaman Gradick to join him, and soon, they took the longboat ashore.
Within an hour, three of the small fighters were leaving the warehouse. Each had been better armed than when they were constructed, with additional cannon being brought aboard to give them more of a punch.
Newly promoted Captain Arlen stood just aft of the helmsman of his small boat, saluting Commodore Knight as they passed.
“Ms. Zaffir,” addressed the commodore to the acting first officer of the Talon, “signal the Black Diamond and Dragonfly to open fire on the warehouse and finish it off.”
“Aye, Commodore.”
“Captain, take us out.”
“Aye, ma’am. Mister Crang, come about to port and start down river.”
“Signal the rest of the fleet to form up and move out.”
“Aye, Commodore,” replied Lieutenant Zaffir.
“Mister Proggott, secure black sails and raise our regular canvas,” ordered Captain Orvin.
“Aye, sir.”
Commodore Knight had no illusions as to the chances of seeing any of the fifteen sailors and three officers again. But they’d still wait for a time for their return.