Adventures of Pendragon: Ch I Surprise

His pen scratched across the paper, recording his muddled thoughts. The faint glow from the lamp showed a room in complete disarray, ink drops spread across the desk and floor, pages of paper scattered about. A knock on the door interrupted his nearly derailed train of thought. 

“Come in,” he said, his voice perfectly calm despite his chaotic mind. The door slowly opened as a woman’s silhouette appeared. It was Sylvia, the ship’s only female crew member.

“Captain, you’re needed in the bridge,” she said, her voice filled with urgency.

“Very well then,” he sighed as he stood up and pulled his overcoat from its peg next to his cluttered desk. Hastily putting it on, he followed Sylvia towards the front of his beautiful airship, the Sierra Malcolm. As the wind whistled past, he looked up, admiring the huge bag of trapped hydrogen keeping the ship aloft. He looked at Sylvia’s body, examining the curve of her body as she walked toward the front of the ship.

“Did you lose their location again, poppet,” he asked, jokingly.

“You wish,” She said grimly, “And I thought I told you to stop calling me that!”

Laughing nervously, he replied, “That you did, that you did.”

Walking into the bridge, Sylvia approached a large glass plate reaching from ceiling to floor. She flipped a small switch embedded in the glass, and four blinking green dots appeared n the grid etched into the display. One was centered near the top, with two flanking it and a last one down and to the right of the three above.

Sylvia pointed at the top-most blip and said, “As you know, this is our target.”

“Right, but what are those two other ships?” He motioned vaguely to the two flanking dots.

“They are military escorts, Captain, newly joined obviously.”

Great, just what I wanted, like a kid in a candy store,” he said, a confident smile spreading across his face, “Go wake Smith, we’ll definitely need him this time.”

As Sylvia scampered off to wake the pilot, he approached his regular post with the air of one completely convinced of victory. He looked around and located the pipe he wanted, he leaned into it and announced in a calm commanding voice, “All crew members report to the starboard gangway.”

His distant voice echoed off the hull of the ship, fainting reaching his ears. He looked down and examined the array of switches, levers and gauges surrounding the rudder wheel. One particular lever caught his attention and he pushed it down. A small red word was printed next to the lowered position of the lever, “Stop.”

As he turned to leave, the airship slowed and came to a complete stop, the wind’s whistling subsiding into a mild breeze.

He emerged onto the starboard gangway to find most of the crew already assembled and awaiting orders. He strode to the front of the group and addressed them as a whole, “Gentlemen, as you know we were planned to raid the merchant airship Lustinalia at exactly this time. I am only here to share a few interesting progressions before we continue with this endeavor.”

He paused a moment to take in their reactions. A few looked down and shuffled their feet, others were smiling wickedly. “Two enemy scouts joined as escorts during the night. I realize that it probably won’t be a problem, but it’ll be difficult, obviously.” He motioned to the empty air around the Sierra Malcolm.

As if on cue, a door farther toward the back of the ship burst open and a burly man fell onto the deck, his head hitting the polished wood with a resonating thud. He scrambled to his feet and rushed to the captain.

Saluting, apologetically he said, “Sorry, Lyonard, I was too passed out to get the announcement.”

Lyonard half smiled and said, “Well I guessed as much, that’s what I sent Sylvia for you.”

“Right, exactly what’s the problem?”

“Two scout ships, Piermonts it appears, by their radio signatures.”

“Oh, is that all, Pendragon? Me and the boys should be able to take care of that, no problem,” Smith said, beaming.

“Well take your little flyboys and get to it!”

Smith signaled a group of about seven men to follow him. As they disappeared below deck, the captain turned and addressed a shorter, studious-looking man in ragged military regalia, “Edward, think you got something that might help them take those damned Piermonts out?”

“Oh, certainly Lyonard,” he said, his dark grey eyes twinkling evilly. Immediately, he turned and scurried through the door Smith had come from, slamming it forcefully behind him.

With a smirk, Lyonard turned and commanded the rest of the crew, “Battle stations, you know where they are, now get to them!”

As the remaining crew hurried off in every direction, several doors opened creakily and loudly slammed shut, the action reverberating through the ship.

Sylvia lightly put a hand on Lyonard’s shoulder and advised, “Shouldn’t you be getting to your own post, captain?”

“Right, you are!” Smiling, he turned and marched dramatically to the bridge, Sylvia followed closely behind him, laughing at his ridiculousness.