Rising Tide: A LitRPG Novel (Age of Steam Book 1)

by Mitchell T. Jacobs

  No, he thought as he watched Brandon and Jamie prepare the bow cannon, the guns would be enough. They'd make it work, and if they couldn't kill the enemy ships they'd find a way to run away from them. This ship gave them several options, even if it didn't have its full capabilities.

  He studied the pair of ships approaching their bow. They moved rapidly, expelling huge clouds of smoke from their stacks. That probably meant they had their engines at full power, but it was enough to catch his own vessel, even if the destroyer was only cruising at partial capacity. They might be able to outrun the enemy…

  But then, they might not. Shane had never seen the class of ship in front of them, and he had no idea what their capabilities might be. They only had a single bow weapon, but with three of them they might be able to surround their ship and pummel it from three directions.

  He couldn't afford to get arrogant, even with a powerful weapon at their disposal.

  Bailey reached for a lever and pulled. Coal poured into the furnace. She moved to the next hopper and pulled the lever as well.

  “I'm through mine,” Ryan said.

  She nodded. “OK, that should be enough for now. We don't want to smother the fires, so let's wait for it to ignite. We should have enough steam power to get full performance out of the engines.

  Having four furnaces to provide power made their task much simpler, even though they had to lug a lot of weight. The ship could easily push through the ocean at high speed, and they didn't have to deal with steam cannons siphoning off energy to fight the enemy. Right now they only needed to focus on keeping the engines going.

  But even muffled the clatter of the engines was apparent. The sheer amount of heat put out by the four furnaces made the air hot and feel overwhelming. Bailey had the hatch open to give them some ventilation, but once the shells started flying it might be best to close it. There were some cases where the game was a little too realistic, and this was one of them.

  “What do we do now?” Ryan asked.

  “We wait and make sure the engines keep putting out full power,” she said. “We took on water and coal at Welles Bay. We should be fine for now. Just make sure that we're not stressing out one of the compression chambers, because the last thing I want is for a pipe to burst.”

  “I'll do it. I don't imagine that it'd be pleasant to go that way.”

  Bailey didn't think so either, though the game registered it more as stimulus than actual pain. No one wanted to play something where they'd be seriously hurt, even in their minds. Death and dismemberment felt like pinpricks, not agonizing ordeals.

  But she didn't want to lose the ship, not to a stupid malfunction like that. Any prototype would have teething problems, but this vessel was her baby. Any critical issues would reflect badly on her, since she had been the lead designer.

  And so Bailey kept checking gauges like her life depended on it.

  Brandon helped Jamie stow the tarp and then climbed inside the gun turret. He grabbed the phone and called up to the bridge.

  “What's the plan?”

  “Target the leftmost ship. I'm going to try to turn us to port and go past them so only one of them can fire on us.”

  “Got it.”

  “But be ready for trouble.”

  That made Brandon smile. “Of course. When do we even not end up in trouble?”

  Shane didn't answer before another voice cut in. It sounded like someone speaking through a megaphone.

  “Attention, attention unmarked vessel. Cut your engines and allow us to board. If you do not comply we'll be forced to open fire. I repeat, cut your engines and allow us to board. If you do not comply we'll be forced to open fire.”

  “Huh, do they really think we're going to do that, or are they just trying to make up an excuse to shoot us?” Jamie said.

  “Dunno. They seemed to have been planning this.”

  “How'd they manage to signal the other two ships?”

  “We probably just got unlucky,” Brandon said. “They had a predetermined signal for an ambush, and we were the lucky ones that got selected.”

  Jamie glanced out of the turret. “So are they raiders, or are they guild?”

  “Either way we're not letting them aboard. So that means they're going to the bottom.”

  But he saw her point. If they were Iron Guild vessels this fight could result in a lot of trouble when they got back to Beylan. The enemy might not be able to identify their affiliation since they weren't flying their guild's standard, but that meant they couldn't reflag their ship without running the risk of being discovered by the guild and turning themselves into their enemies.

  But they couldn't let the enemy board them, especially since they had never bothered to hide their contraband. Even if they were clean Brandon doubted they'd comply. Their foes would probably take great interest in the new ship, and he didn't want them to get a good look at its intricacies.

  Brandon moved to the spotter's seat and began training the gun toward its target, using a pair of flywheels to adjust its elevation and facing. He focused on their target, trying to make minute adjustments so their first shell would be right on target. It didn't seem like much, but even small factors could be the difference between a hit, a near-miss that did damage, or a complete failure.

  “Attention unmarked vessel, this is your last warning. Cut your engines and allow us to board. If you do not comply we'll be forced to open fire.”

  Brandon heard the telephone ring and reached for it. “Yeah.”

  “Shut him up please.”

  “With pleasure,” he answered, and hung up.

  Jamie moved over to the ammo hoist and pulled the lever. Brandon saw gears move. A shell appeared at the top of the hoist, and she loaded it into the breach.

  “Ready?”

  “Give me a second,” Brandon said. He looked through the scope one last time, trying to compensate for the ship's bucking as it rode through the rough seas. “Fire.”

  “Firing.”

  Brandon heard the blast and felt the deck shake around him. As he looked through the scope he saw the shell splash down, just off the bow of their target. That seemed to catch the enemy by surprise, but they reacted quickly and began to take evasive maneuvers.

  “Miss. Load again,” he ordered. Brandon gritted his teeth and tried to adjust his aim.

  He heard a distant thump and saw a puff of steam shoot out from the bow, but no splashes appeared in his field of vision. The enemy gunners must have overshot.

  “Loaded!” Jamie said.

  Brandon made one last adjustment. “Fire.”

  “Firing.”

  Another shot. Another near miss. Brandon tried not to get discouraged and focused on the target again. The pitch and roll of the ship made it difficult to aim, because even a split-second could make a huge difference.

  But the second shot seemed to catch the enemy off-guard, because they swerved wildly away from the second shot. He wondered how long it would take them to figure out that the ship wasn't using steam cannons. Would they even realize that? Powder-propelled guns were almost unheard of because of their expense.

  Brandon looked down the scope again. Their superior armament meant nothing if the enemy managed to lob a shell into the right spot, and he had to remember that they were still outnumbered.

  Focus, he reminded himself. Focus on the target.

  “Fire.”

  “Firing.”

  Kelvin watched the barrel spit a gout of flame and smoke, and a moment later the shell landed off the stern of the pursuing ship. Too long. He looked down the scope again and tried to adjust his aim. Just a touch shorter, not too much.

  But the shot had alerted the enemy to the danger, and the ship started zigzagging. It fired, but their foe's aim was off as well.

  “Not good weather for this,” Corey said.

  Kelvin nodded. “Yeah, the waves aren't helping. I wish the gun was gyrostabilized, but I don't think they were able to work that out.”

  He tried to
make a few more adjustments to put the shell on target. Just one hit. He had done it before, and at much longer range, but this was different. Off the coast of Kromus the seas had been relatively calm. Here they had to deal with rough water.

  Another shot. Another miss. Kelvin found himself becoming more and more frustrated with the cannon. It might be a powerful weapons system, but if it only worked in optimal conditions it was little better than a steam cannon. Weather on the high seas frequently changed, and ships needed to be able to fight whether it was calm, stormy, or anything in between.

  Another shot. Another miss. Another shot. Another miss. How many rounds had they fired? The enemy had been caught off-guard by their sheer rate of fire, but now they were taking evasive action. Kelvin exhaled, trying to keep his cool, and looked down the scope again. He began to shout the order to fire, but thought better of it and made one last adjustment.

  “Fire.”

  “Firing,” Corey replied, and pulled the trigger.

  This time the shell fell on target, right onto the bow of the pursuing ship. Kelvin looked through the scope and saw carnage, warped and twisted metal as the explosive power of the shell's warhead ripped through the enemy vessel and caused havoc. A gout of steam shot out from a pipe, probably part of the steam cannon's feed system. At the very least the enemy ship couldn't fire on them.

  “Nice aim,” Corey said.

  “Eh, that was a combination of guesswork and luck,” he said. “Don't get too comfortable. We still need to kill this thing.”

  The enemy ship tried to turn and escape, but the damage from the first hit made it sluggish. The engines hadn't suffered any damage, but the warped bow made it difficult for them to maneuver. Move too violently and the entire structure could be crushed by the weight of the water.

  Kelvin adjusted the gun and gave a thumbs up. “Fire.”

  “Firing.”

  Another hit blossomed amidships, ripping through the enemy pilothouse and part of the deck. He lowered the trajectory of the gun a bit and fired off another round. This one impacted just above the water line, tearing open a hole and allowing the ocean to sweep in.

  Kelvin stepped back and grabbed the turret phone.

  “What's up?” Shane asked.

  “Pursuing enemy ship is sinking. We hit it three times, including once on the water line. Should be going to the bottom in less than five minutes.”

  “Understood. Good work.”

  Kelvin turned to Corey and was about to offer him congratulations when a geyser of water shot up off the stern. It was close enough to shower them with the spray.

  He looked toward the bow, wondering what they should do. Their ship wasn't done yet, not by a long shot. The enemy still had two vessels, and one round in the right spot could be enough to ruin their day.

  “Train the cannon to starboard,” he instructed. “We're probably going to have to fire when we go past.”

  He looked back toward the bow at the shapes of the remaining enemy ships. Kelvin didn't know what kind of maneuvers Shane would try, but it looked like they were going to pass within a thousand yards if they continued with their current turn. That was spitting distance when cannons were concerned, unless the gunners were blind or had shaky hands. Even with the extra armor for critical areas Kelvin wasn't sure they could take a hit.

  But that wasn't his concern right now. It was up to Shane's maneuvering to keep them out of danger, Bailey's expertise to make sure the armor held up if they were hit, and the forward gunners to kill the enemy targets before they had a chance to fire back. And then there was their spotter, their backup helmsman, and their engineer…

  He needed to trust them. Right now he and Corey needed to focus on manning their weapon and using it to the best of their ability.

  With two enemy ships bearing down on them, they'd need it.

  Shane turned the ship's wheel, keeping a close eye on the enemy ships. Their captains had apparently realized what he was trying to do, but shellfire from the forward turret made it hard for them to counter. They had to spend most of their time zigzagging, lest they make themselves an easy target.

  He kept the destroyer moving in a lazy turn, using as much power as he dared. Shane didn't want to change course too violently. Bailey had left him a chart showing what turns were too dangerous at what speed, but he was hesitant to test the limits. He still didn't know the full capabilities of the ship, and snapping off the rudder at a time like this would be embarrassing, not to mention likely fatal for all of them.

  He flipped a switch on the dashboard to his left. “Simone, I can't see the second ship. Is it still behind the other one?”

  “Yeah, I see it,” she said. “The other one's blocking it, so it's not going to shoot at us.”

  “Both of them only have bow cannons?”

  “Yes, as far as I can tell.”

  Their foes were using chasers, built for speed and little else. Armor and armament were secondary considerations, since the ships were expected to operate in packs. They'd converge on a fast enemy from several directions and hem them in.

  Unfortunately for the enemy, they expected to face smuggling ships like the Egret or his guild's other vessel, either lightly-armed or not armed at all. The destroyer's turrets and rapid rate of fire meant a world of difference.

  He couldn't fault their courage though, although it might be considered stupidity with how badly they were outmatched. The surviving pair of ships continued to press their attack, and the closest ship kept firing. Several shots had landed fairly close and forced him to dodge.

  Shane eyeballed the enemy and then flipped the switch for both turrets.

  “We're closing,” he said. “I'm going to try to make a sharp turn to starboard once we're in position so we end up on their sterns. Bow turret, if you can kill the nearest one before that happens that would be great. If not...”

  “Already on it. Just try to keep us stable,” Brandon replied.

  The deck beneath his feet vibrated, and the bow cannon spat flame. Another shell splashed into the ocean a few feet off the enemy's bow.

  “Sorry about that. Let me adjust...”

  Another shot rang out, and this one scored a direct hit on the enemy cannon. Even without his binoculars Shane could see the damage was considerable. The barrel seemed to be completely warped in the aftermath of the explosion.

  He flipped the phone switch for the engine room as well. “Bailey, Ryan, hang on. We're going to full power and making a tight turn.”

  “Understood. Just don't snap the rudder.”

  “I'll trust these guidelines you gave me.”

  Shane pushed the throttle forward and watched the gauges. The ship steadily picked up speed, its bow slicing through the water with ease. With one enemy weapon destroyed and another blocked he didn't have to fool around with dodging shellfire.

  He flipped the all channel switch. “Everyone, we're making the turn. Find something solid and hang on.”

  Shane spun the wheel as far as he dared. The ship turned to starboard, circling around the stern end of the enemy ships. As he moved the wheel back and came out of the turn their vessel lined up perfectly.

  “Both guns, sink 'em.”

  “Copy that.”

  “Right on it.”

  Within moments splashes began shooting up around the enemy vessels. One shell smashed into a ship's pilothouse, blasting it apart in a fiery explosion. Another blew a hole in the stern of the rightmost ship.

  Shane eased the throttle back and watched with morbid fascination as their shots tore through the enemy vessels. In a few minutes both were burning wrecks. One rolled over and capsized in the rough seas. The other broke apart along the centerline and descended into the abyss.

  “Man,” he mumbled to himself, then flipped the all channel switch again. “Good job guys. We did it.”

  “They're gone?” Bailey asked. “I can't see in the engine room.”

  “Yeah, they're dead. Very dead,” he said.

  As he
watched both halves of the broken ship sink the magnitude of what had just happened hit him. They had defeated three guild ships trying to stop them, and they had done it without sustaining any damage. And that was with both gun crews trying to figure out their cannons on the fly, and without their best weapons. Once they worked out the issues with the cannons and added torpedoes…

  “Hey Shane?” Kelvin said.

  “Yeah?”

  “What are we doing about survivors? Do we want to nab one of them and interrogate them?”

  He thought about it for a moment. “No. We're not risking it. And we should head for home as soon as possible. I want to get the blueprints back to the engineers as soon as possible.”

  “OK, understood.”

  Shane checked their heading and adjusted the ship's course. He thought about the crews of the sunken ships. They might be part of the Iron Guild, but Shane felt a little bit of sympathy for them. Most of them had probably been killed when their ships were torn apart. The others would be stranded far from land, but likely not for long. If they were lucky the waves would pull them under.

  If not, then the sharks would get them.

  “Well, that didn't go the way I wanted,” Brandon said as they replaced the tarp. “I was hoping that it would take a lot less shots to hit them.”

  “We were working with a weapon that we've only shot a few times in good weather. There were bound to be a few issues the first time we used it in combat,” Jamie said. “We got through this without getting hit.”

  “Still...”

  “Now who's being pessimistic?”

  Brandon laughed. “OK little miss sunshine, I get your point.”

  Jamie shrugged. “We're still testing out new stuff made with the free crafting system. There's bound to be issues with it.”

  “Oh, I agree. But that doesn't mean I can't wish for things to go completely right for us.”

  “Do they ever?”

  “Not since we've met you, actually. Having to run for our lives across the rooftops of Kromus...”