The docks of Saint Kronii, the biggest commercial port city of Infinity. If anyone did business with the strange clock men, it would most likely be here. At these late hours, the waters are calm and the wind is cold. At such a fortified position, after months of no action whatsoever, and in the dead of the night, could anyone blame the guards for dozing off, or the officers for wandering into the streets in search of the company of a lovely lady?
A flash of light and a sound like thunder clapping shook the foundation of the whole city. The sound of ratchet alarms and men screaming followed. Gunfire, and lots of it. More explosions. The smell of burning vodka.
"That will teach you traitors!" A schizo yelled out as he lobbed another bottle of the volatile substance into the dock. "Death to outsiders, death to their allies who've betrayed Inf--"
He was cut off by his own agonized scream as a lead ball blast through the last bottle he held up high, spewing firey liquid all over him . Coastal guard were quick to awaken and get the move on, getting into formation to fire off from their rifled muskets into the Ouroboros arsonists.
"Scatter!" one of the rebels commanded, and then the rest followed suit. Some threw a few last firebombs into the burning docks, even as crews of servicemen ran to try putting them out. Some of the schizos fell to the volleys of the marines in pursuit. The last of them holed up behind some crates by an anchored frigate, drawing the marines to corner them.
And then the rebels uncovered their own muskets and fired their own volley. At such close range, scores of Infinity's finest men dropped dead or dying in an instant.
"Fall back," the loyalist sergeants cried, giving the Ourobros time to board the frigate, beginning to make the moves to escape as some of them provided cover fire in the general direction of the scattered marines.
Another frigate, under the control of Commander Sundial of the Infinite Navy, followed closely behind. "We want that ship captured, don't blow it open, men. Pick them off with musket fire and grapeshot! We need to be in boarding distance!"
But from behind came a rickety, cobbled together ship of small size but terrifying speed. A hideous schizotroll cried out in its foul tongue before a hail of lead rained down on Sundial's men. The commander himself only made it to safety at the last second. Stolen guns?
The ship burst open as the pirates began peppering cannonballs into the loyalist frigate.
Stolen cannons, too? Kroniisiah help us all.
The sound of boots hitting the iron stairs and walkways, of sergeants barking orders, of a multitude of ratchet alarms forced Captain Mobius awake, just before the rapping came at the metal door of his quarters.
"Captain!" Cried out the familiar voice of Lieutenant Commander Watchson. "Wake up! They're escaping!"
"Who's escaping?" Mobius replied, shaking off his drowsiness as he threw on his decorated coat over his sleepwear. He opened the door to find Watchson in a similar state of unpreparedness.
"The separatists, sir!" The lieutenant answered as the two walked down the metallic corridor. "They've blown the docks at Saint Kronii and are making off with a stolen frigate! The marines has them blocked off, but a band of schizotroll pirates arrived to back up the rebels and began returning fire. Command is ordering all hands move to battle-ready vessels and make pursuit."
"Battle-ready vessels?" The captain mused, tightening his jacket to appear more presentable, "We're on one. Lieutenant, I want all sailors to battle positions on the double, get the turret ready, I want every gun loaded, every gun!"
"Sir?!" Watchson said, baffled. "We've only drilled here for a month, and we've never testes it in the field!"
"Then consider this the field test, Watchson. The Kroniisiah favors the bold!"
The loyalist frigate lurched back as it ate a cannonball to the hull, an explosion of dust and splinters sending the sailors within flying. "Sir, direct hit, sir!" the first mate informed his commander.
Commander Sundial didn't respond, as he didn't need the first mate to tell him that. He was already wondering how the schizos had gotten so smart as to draw the marines into an ambush, or where they even got the guns they were using in the first place. They had enough men to fully operate a frigate, and the forethought to hire these pirates to back them up. Oh, what he'd give for a platoon fo Varangians right about now...
A cannonball hit the other side of the ship, this time from the pirates. "Sir,--" started the first mate.
"I know!" Sundial snapped. Get every cannon on the schizotrolls and keep the men picking off the rebels. We--"
"No sir," the first made cut him off. "Look!" The commander turned his attention back to the shore. The sight of the strange gun the marines wheeled out baffled him. Six barrels affixed in a circle, like a clock, two men pushing the cart and another following along carrying a long belt of lead.
"What in Tock's name?"
"Lock!" the man behind the cannon yelled, taking position behind it. "Feed!" He continued, the soldier next to him loaded the belt to the top of the gun. All that yelling got the attention of the pirates, and a stray shot dropped the other soldier with them. Still, they were undettered. "Aim!" The gun swivelled, pointing down the deck of the pirate ship.
"Fire!"
What followed, Sundial could only describe as the ring of a musket sounding off fivefold, again, and again, and again, and again. It wasn't stopping. He could only watch in amazement and shock and fear as that thing tore apart two or three schizotrolls every second, rapidly firing shots down range with its barrels with spinning from every turn of the crank. By the time it finally ended, only smoke and dead bodies were left of the hole-riddled enemy deck. That must've been one hundred shots in the time it would've taken even the most skilled infantry to load and fire his musket once.
Looking at it now, the barrels had completely melted, and the soldier feeding the rounds into the top seemed to have burned his hands badly, if his screaming about having burned his hands badly was any indication. Still, despite its apparent flaws, it was one hell of a weapon, whatever it was. Sundial, his men, the guards along the shore, and even the schizos had all watched in silence at the carnage, none believing their eyes. As it soon dawned on them that the firing had stopped, the schizos were first to react. That reaction was to start moving, fast.
"Marines! Half of you board the pirate ship and clear them out!" Sundial called out. Even now he could shake the feeling he witnessed an act of the goddesses. "The rest of you, stay here; make pursuit of that enemy frigate!"
"We've sustained heavy damage, sir!" One of the sailors cried out in response. "She's dead in the water!"
"Blast it, I'll cut off my own head before I let the schizos escape with a frigate! Fire everything we have!"
"Aye aye!" Every carronade on the side facing the fleeing enemy began to fire at it, each shot only going wider and wider. Back at the port, another frigate was being loaded and made ready to pursue, but at this distance nothing would catch up to it.
And then, in the distance, a beast of iron swam into view.
The HRS Continuum was here.
Captain Mobius could feel every lurch of the ship as the even the lightest waves slammed against the iron hull. He held tightly to his seat at the pilot's turret to balance himself, maintaining a strong image for his very sea sick crew. This thing was not ready for action, and it felt more like a floating iron tomb than a highly advanced deadly weapon, but they'd have to work out the kinks later.
"I see the fighting sir!" Lieutenant Commander Watchson called out, peering through the viewport. Indeed, every man inside could hear the explosions and cracking of gunfire in the distance, muffled by thick iron plates and very aggressive waters.
"Get us in firing distance," the captain said calmly, every bit of him the image of a noble naval officer of an esteemed house of Infinity. Even if he felt sick to his stomach.
"Starboard, forty degrees!" Watchson yelled out to the crew below. The whole ship creaked and yawned as it began to slowly but surely turn to face the target. Mobius took up position beside his lieutenant, watching the enemy frigate make its escape.
No you don't, he thought to himself. "Watchson, keep us on their tail. Ready the main gun for firing."
"Sir?" Watchson asked apprehensively. But Mobius didn't even have to let him finish.
"I'd rather see that frigate in the water than in the hands of Ouroboros."
The lieutenant nodded. "Main gun, take aim!"
"Shell in place!" The crew below replied. " Enemy in sight! Main gun ready!"
"On your command, sir," the lieutenant said dutifully.
A gloved hand gripped tightly at the support beam, and the captain swallowed his spit. "Fire."
There was the sound of something sputtering, and the undeniable blast of smoke, both in and out of the ship. But no shell flew through the air, and the enemy frigate continued to sail away. By now it was most definitely out of reach of the frigates at Saint Anne...
"The hell happened?!" Mobius snapped angrily. A crew member climbed up to the turret hastily, covered in soot.
"It was a dud, sir!" The young man replied. "T-the cannon smoked out on us and the shell didn't launch!"
"Damn prototypes! Ready again, and fire again!" There was an impatience to him now, like he was hoping to show off the might of Infinity to all in attendance. Like it was a military convention and not a combat situation.
"Aye aye!" The man went back down the ladder, but the lieutenant turned his attention to the captain angrily.
"Sir! We're beginning to leave the shoreline! We can't handle deep waters!"
"Then we will sink them before this ship sinks us, am I clear Lieutenant Commander?"
There was a pause, like Watchson had any choice in the matter. "Boilermen, on the double!"
Deep below, sailors shoveled coal into the boilers of the steam engine driving the ship, forcing the metal beast to swim ever faster. The whole thing creaked even harder, each motion forcing it to stretch and contract in ways it wasn't designed to handle.
"Get us back in shelling distance!" The ship was getting closer now, the frigate becoming a bigger and bigger target as they drew nearer. Just a little more...
There was the sound of panic below, and the creaking of the iron plates separating and smashing together only got louder. The crew member from earlier came back up, a look of pure fear on his face. "Captain, the water pressure is too much! We need to return to shore!"
Mobius raised his hand dismissively but firmly. "We pull back on my command. Now, ready the main gun!"
"Ready the main gun!"
"Shell in place! Enemy in sight! Main gun ready!!"
Watchson held himself to the support beam, looking like he was going to vomit any moment from the stress and the instability of this thing. "On your word."
"Fire!"
Not a sputter, but a bang. A proper shot, one with such recoil that the unprepared captain was sent flying forward, catching himself on his hands. The crew could be heard hitting the floor of the gunnery below, and the sound of iron finally giving way began to come into notice. The ship did not come out of that shot in one piece.
But neither did the enemy. The shell whizzed through the air before blowing a hole open in the back of the frigate, a firey explosion right at the water line. The whole wooden ship dipped down front first, before beginning to capsize as the fires spread and the ship sank.
"Turn us around!" the captain exclaimed, hand on his bloodied nose from his fall. "Goddamn, all over my uniform!"
The sun rose on a new world, a world on fire. The stolen frigate broke apart at the seams the more it settled into the water after that shot. At that range, with such precision, and with such power, no gun has come close in history to such effectiveness. The screaming of the few surviving rebels was drowned out by the victorious cheering of the loyalist navy.
"By Boros' tail, one shot!" Sundial exclaimed. The marines clapped and whooped at the display of raw power. The giant iron ship began to turn aback to shore uneasily, but the less than flawless return was completely masked by the incredible show of force. Every soldier, sailor, and crew man just watched the next stage of naval warfare unfold... as did all the civilians, diplomats, and merchants from other nations who came out to watch the fighting.
Perhaps in their minds, it cemented itself as the might of Infinity behind such a massive beast and terrifying guns. For others, perhaps they saw how the dauntingly large ship lagged behind, or how the guns didn't always seem to work.
No matter what they thought, the possibility became clear: this might just be the future, and the crazed clock men might be at the helm. Heavens help us all.