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Splintered Light Chapter 2.3: No Smoking Section

Karl was no stranger to dealing with fire aboard a seagoing vessel; he'd had no less than a dozen situations during his time with the Wyranese navy where he was either fighting fire onboard his own ship, or combatting opposing sailors during a boarding action when the hostile ship was aflame. The Rottweiler had selected a pair of leather britches and a full length leather jacket with extended sleeves. He soaked both in bilge water before donning them and then chose the rest of his gear.

Rather than his own close-fitted boots he selected a pair of Human boots with a wooden wedge wrapped in cloth tied to his heel to make up for the difference in his foot shape. Human boots provided greater traction on uneven surfaces and created a solid battering ram in the event a door needed to be kicked in. He finished off his ensemble with his standard hat, and a large fire axe; he pointedly left his two firearms back in his cabin since the objective was to lessen the exposure of black powder to flame, not increase it. He did, however, grab a flare launcher and stuffed it into his tunic.

Even with the extra preparation Karl was still the first of his team on deck and ready for the boarding action. While there had been some discussion of using the Jolly so the Wave Rider didn't have to get too close, the small side-boat at the aft of the ship became unreasonable for the task when the sailors with spyglasses reported that the entire side of the burning ship had been all but torn off in what appeared to be some severe raking damage from what might have been grape shot. No batten ladders meant the boarding party would have to swing across on ropes or extend planks to cross on foot.

By the time the Dog had directed some of the crewmen to prepare the grappling hooks to pull the ships together Rodney Jibb had joined him at the railing. The Bandicoot was dressed normally, save for a large, thick poncho. It was the kind of raiment the sailors wore in the rain, more to keep from getting wet rather than burned. The Rottweiler turned to regard him. "Mr. Jibb-- is THAT what you're taking for this task?"

The Bandicoot looked down at himself and did a spin in place, holding his arms out. Beneath the poncho the Dog was able to see four of the small, water-skin sized UPU issue fire retardant canisters that had become so popular on modern vessels. The crewman smiled at the Gunner. "Aye, Sir. I gotta travel light if I'm t'be any help. Cloth'll keep embers off me and these little ladies'll help us deal with any fire that plans on causin' us trouble. Between an axe and some sprayers I think we'll be fine."

Archie Lews' voice was heard before he himself was seen. The Great Dane laughed at the exchange as he approached. "Leave it to a Lehsunian to think a few sprays a chems'll solve all their problems."

The big sailor was dressed in his usual kilt but he had a thick pair of leggings on beneath it and his sash had been set aside in favor of a large treated leather doublet. Like Karl, Archie had a pair of gloves and carried an axe-- though his had a pick on one side rather than two blades. Despite the Great Dane's readiness, Karl wasn't about to let him get away with an attitude. "Belay the lip, Mr. Lews."

The Dog straightened at attention and offered up a Lehsunian salute. "Sir, aye, sir."

Although it was better than an Ilysean one, Karl never particularly liked the southern kingdom's form of respect; the idea of a flat paw with fingers extended touching the forehead seemed less respectful. Granted, there was a degree of precision that went to snapping into such a pose, but he wasn't about to spend any time arguing the benefits or drawbacks of any specific honorable interaction... not when four crewmen were bracing themselves against the railing to ready the lines for boarding. The closest of those men was the ship's Bosun, Rolf Severna. "You ready, Karl?"

The Gunner didn't have a chance to answer; Captain Jacksoni approached the gathering, calling from midship. "Hold!"

Everyone halted their action, turning to regard the Tiger as he drew nearer. Karl spoke to those closest to him "Be ready. Wait for the word." and then approached Alistair.

The Captain reached up and placed a paw on the Rottweiler's shoulder. "If it looks like things are going to go belly-up I want you three above deck. Signal us and we'll board. That ship isn't worth your lives."

Karl offered a nod of agreement, but he still voiced an objection. "We're not worth putting the ship in danger, Captain."

The Tiger pulled his magnification lens away from his eye as he met the Rottweiler's gaze. "If the worst happens, you can all swim. Get overboard and I'll send someone in the Jolly to pluck you out. No heroics, understand?"

The Gunner offered a much more satisfying Wyranese salute, complete with the thud of paw on chest as he declared. "Jawohl, Kapitän."

Once he'd said his piece, Alistair returned to a position a respectful distance away and reaffixed his headgear's lens, attention going from his crew to the ship that awaited their presence. Karl's focus likewise returned to their target and he motioned to the men at the rails. "They await your order, Bosun!"

Rolf measured out a shoulder's width length of rope between his hands and started the grapnel spinning. "Ready ropes, men!"

The other three sailors all shouted in unison "Aye, Sir!"

Despite the soft lapping of the waves against the two hulls and the rippling of canvas overhead the grappling hooks still made a distinct whirring sound. All four men had theirs moving in unison at a speed determined by the Prong Horn. The Rottweiler looked to the two sailors who would be joining him aboard the other vessel. "When the planks are down we move-- no delay. Understood?"

The Dog and Bandicoot next to the Gunner each acknowledged with a nod of their head and an emphatic "Aye, Sir!"

The Prong Horn to Karl's right barked out the order "LOOSE!"

In unison the four grappling hooks crossed the distance between the ships; all four found purchase on its railings. Foreman Zuider had stepped into the mix by that time and shouted out the follow up order, "HEAVE!"

Between the four men who started with the hooks and the Goat, who had stepped in to aid the smallest of the sailors they made short work of closing the distance between the two ships. Rolf was quick to call out the next command "Boards up!"

Two sailors immediately stepped into the collection and spread gang planks across the distance between the Wave Rider and the damaged ship, laying them out over the railings of each vessel before moving to help the men at the ropes, steadying the distance to make crossing easier. Once they were lashed as close enough to the burning ship as they dared, Rolf looked to Karl. "It's your show now, Lieutenant!"

Karl hopped nimbly up onto the plank closest to him and made a quick dash across it to the other ship; his team's ability to board the vessel and let the Wave Rider get away to a safe distance was pivotal and he wasn't about to waste time. Directly beside him Mr. Lews was already on the other board and likewise kept pace; they touched down on the shredded deck of the Wyranese ship at almost the same time. The Rottweiler glanced back toward the Wave Rider. "Mr. Jibb?"

A second later the Bandicoot landed next to him, having used a loose line to swing across. "Still with ya, Sir."

The Rottweiler didn't have much appreciation for the sailor showing off, but the task was done and he was willing enough to move on. Waving back to the crew aboard the Wave Rider, Karl motioned the two men with him onward and made his way toward the doorway leading to below the deck.

Mr. Lews lingered for a moment as he looked around. "Most of the damage here looks like it came from above... ya think the pirates were usin' artillery, Sir?"

Karl snorted. "Worry about it later. We have work to do."

Both Dogs worked together to get the door leading below deck opened. The portal wasn't locked, but it had become stuck due to the frame warping thanks to the battle damage. Once they forced the door open they also discovered that a body had been blocking the way. Karl noticed immediately that the slain Nutria was not dressed in a Wyranese sailor's standard garb, let alone a navy man's uniform. He stowed that information away for later use as he ushered both of the other sailors down the hall. "There'll be stairs to the right. That'll lead toward the powder stores so that's where we're going."

He followed behind the two of them, stopping only long enough to make sure the corpse was out of the way in the event a quick escape was needed. By the time he caught up Mr. Lews was already heading down the stairs, but the Great Dane came to a stop at the bottom. He called back up toward Karl. "Sir-- we got a collapse. Big piece a timber's blockin' the way."

The Rottweiler pushed past the Bandicoot to join the other Dog. A large beam had collapsed, and with it a portion of the deck. There was still room to get by in the hallway, but not much. He made a quick decision to move onward. "Brace the beam and see if you can make enough room for Mr. Jibb."

The Great Dane nodded and stepped forward to apply his strength against the timber, lifting with his legs as he straightened them, creating a small crawl space. Karl turned to the Bandicoot. "Rodney-- go through and look for a gunner's trolly-- you should be able to brace the collapse with that so we can follow.

Mr. Jibb nodded and quickly squeezed through the opening created by Mr. Lews. Several seconds passed, punctuated by the sound of fire crackling somewhere nearby and constant scrapes and scrambling of the Bandicoot trying to worm his way past the blockage. Despite the Great Dane's immense strength, Karl could tell that Mr. Lews was tiring. "Just a little longer, Archie... he's almost through."

The other Dog growled over his shoulder. "Hurry it up, ya Lehsunian prick... this ain't some barbarian napping ceremony."

The Bandicoot had just started to offer up a rebuttal but the Great Dane shouted out an explicative moments before the brace he'd been holding fractured on his shoulders and began to disintegrate. Karl had just enough time to bark out the warning "It's coming down!"

The Rottweiler grabbed hold of the Dog in front of him by his doublet and hauled him back as a large section of deck crashed down into the passage. A spray of cinders and ash filled the hallway along with a big cloud of charcoal dust and Karl turned the edge collar of his jacket up to protect himself from inhaling too much of the fouled air; beside him Mr. Lews coughed and choked before pulling a scarf out and covering his face. The Great Dane went straight back into the rubble. "Jibb! Jibb! Damn it! Where ya at, Rodney?!?"

A choking cough rose up from somewhere toward the far side of the collapsed hallway, followed by a raspy "Here."

Lews went straight back into the pile of rubble and began digging his way through. "Well stop playin' in the dirt, ya filthy barbarian-- we got work t'do!"

Karl heard it in the Great Dane's voice: his statement was a combination of scorn and concern. The Rottweiler went over beside the other Dog and both began to dig. As they did so, the Gunner heard the distinct sound of a grunt, followed by a cry of pain. After a few wincing pants Jibb spoke up again. "My leg's pinned!"

The Rottweiler was focused on getting safely past the collapse while also paying attention to the fact that their time was limited; if the vessel continued falling apart then either the ship's magazine would catch fire and explode or else they'd sink. Neither option sounded all that great. The moment some of the detritus began to shift and rumble Karl's attention snapped back to the task at hand and he slapped the Great Dane's paw away from a particularly large wooden board. "Stop. That's keeping the rest from caving in."

Mr. Lews shot a glance his direction and focused on digging out a pile of crumbled timber instead. "Aye, sir."

The blockage shifted again a few moments later and Mr. Jibb cried out anew, accompanied by a series of explicative as only a Lehsunian sailor could manage. Following that, the Bandicoot called out "There's a fuckin' FISHING GAFF stickin' outta my leg! There's a fuckin' POLE in my god-damn leg!!!"

The Great Dane beside Karl snorted, heaving up on a section of collapsed deck, grunting as he spoke. "Stop whinin'. We'll get to ya... at least now ya can live upta yer name, Rod."

The reply was mixed with a hiss of pain. "Fuck you, Archie."

The Dog straightened his legs, pushing upward and supporting the deck enough that Karl could slide past it, but the exertion didn't stop him from continuing to chide the injured Bandicoot. "Not with yer 'pole' in yer leg, Jibb... gotta get it back in yer sheath before ya even think about fuckin'."

Karl slid quickly through the rubble into the clear area of hallway beyond to tend to the injured crewman. He gave his next directive to both of them in a decisive bark. "Stow it. Both of you."

Although the Rottweiler was no surgeon he had some understanding of battlefield injuries. He handled the Bandicoot's impaled leg as well as he could, going so far as to take Archie's scarf from him once the Great Dane had made it past the rubble as well. He carefully bandaged the wound, breaking the wooden pole off as close to the flesh as possible before tightening the cloth. Mr. Jibb cried out but Karl didn't relent. "We keep it in you until we get you back to the Wave Rider... wouldn't want you bleeding out, would we?"

Mr. Lews smirked. "Yeah... that's exactly what ah told this one whore back in Newport after I knotted her and she told me she--"

Karl was done with the Great Dane's humor. "Stow it... and carry him."

There was little time to lose and the Rottweiler continued picking his way down the hall. The sound of creaking timbers and an occasional pop or crackle from above didn't bode well and there was truly no time to spare. He led the team to the end of the hall where the magazine room awaited them. As anticipated, the large, iron-bound door was right where Karl expected it and, as he pulled at the handle he was surprised to find that it didn't budge. He realized why only a moment later. "It's locked."

Mr. Jibb wriggled in the Great Dane's grasp. "Lemme see."

"Keep it up an' I'll drop ya, Rat."

The Bandicoot rotated within the Dog's hold, calling out to Karl. "I have some picks with me, Sir."

The Rottweiler remembered something about Alistair having recruited Rodney Jibb from a Lehsunian "gaol program" that offered work release to select prisoners, and that, at the time, had left the Gunner wondering what Mr. Jibb had done that warranted stay in a cell... but, at that moment, he had neither the luxury of time nor mind power to think past his immediate needs. "Then get the door open."

Mr. Jibb, even dangling from Mr. Lews' hold managed to make the act of opening a door with small metal wires look exceedingly easy. In less than a minute the door had yielded beneath the Bandicoot's skill and the crewmen was unceremoniously returned to his position slung over the Great Dane's shoulders. "Ah knew he'd come in useful fer somethin'."

The Bandicoot's tail smacked the Dog in the face, but the 'attack' only made Lews laugh. Karl ignored both seamen as he entered into the sun-lit powder room. Aside from the huge hole in the ceiling almost everything looked to be in good order. The 'almost' was due to a strange contraption that had crushed several barrels. Judging from its placement, the Rottweiler was fairly certain that it was what broke through the deck above and crashed down. Mr. Lews took note of it as well. "What th' fuck's this then? Looks like some kinda University wack-o thing-a-ma-jiggie."

The Great Dane wasn't far off by Karl's estimate; the object appeared to be made of two brass 'barrels' connected together by a collection of wires. Each of the two containers had a glass window in the side, revealing that both were filled with some kinds of fluid-- one red, and one green. The Rottweiler was no scientist and didn't pretend to know the first thing about UPU projects, but what he DID know was that there was a fire raging overhead on the deck and he didn't have time to deal with some machine... not with the ship dangerously close to exploding.

A call for help caught the Dog's ear. The voice was feminine, and fearful, and it called out in his native Wyranese. "Is- is someone there? Help! Please, help!"

Mr. Lews' ears went up; he'd heard it too. "Y' hear that, Sir?"

The Rottweiler nodded. "I did. A woman calling for help. Mr. Jibb, are your--"

Karl paused in his question when he saw that the Bandicoot had passed out. The Dog had no more time to plan. "Mr. Lews-- take Mr. Jibb's extinguishers and climb up onto the main deck. Get that fire under control while I get the powder away from the breech."

The Great Dane nodded and deposited the unconscious crewman on the floor before gathering up the extinguishers. "Aye, Sir."

The Rottweiler began moving quickly to improve their situation with the fire and black powder, pushing barrels to the far sides of the room. He paused, looking to Mr. Lews, who was climbing up onto the mechanism to better reach the deck overhead so he could pull himself up. "And Archie?"

The Dog stopped and turned to regard him. "Sir?"

Karl reached into his tunic and pulled out the flare gun, tossing it to the Great Dane. "Signal the Wave Rider when you have the fire handled. There's at least one survivor aboard, and we'll need help with Mr. Jibb."

Despite the Gunner's calmness he couldn't help that things were spiraling out of control faster than he could find solutions. Regardless, he planed to persevere, and had nothing more the say when it came to the issue, the scenario, and the falling-apart ship except for one very simple, concise statement. "Verdammt."