Copper Centurion (The Steam Empire Chronicles) by Daniel Ottalini Page B

dipping in concern at the apparent disrespect between the two officers. “Centurion, get your soldiers into position. The Nortlanders appear to be trying to double up on our airships. There’s more than we thought,” he shouted over the humming of the engines. The tempo of the large propellers had increased and Julius felt the ship move faster under his booted feet.
    He nodded and turned to pass on the orders from the briefing earlier. “Check your gear, lads. If you’ve got the grappler, remember to aim for the deck or something that can hold our weight as we cross on those ropes. Everyone else, clear the deck with your repeaters before you cross. Let’s not bring any extra things across. We go in fast, and either capture the ship or set the flares, then get off fast. The flares should do the work for us, but we have to get off before the fire spreads to the Scioparto . I don’t think the captain would like that!” The confidence in his voice sounded false to his ears, but the speech seemed to rally his men.
    The enemy airships closed in tighter, from what Julius could tell. The large bulk of the Scioparto’s gasbag and the airship proper blocked his view to his left. Straight ahead, several enemy airships were closing fast on the line of Roman fliers headed straight at them. To Julius’s inexperienced eye, the enemy airships seemed to vary little in design or shape, except that they had two airships that were as big as the Roman flagship. One was bearing down on the left flank of the Roman formation, and the Scioparto .

    The flagship began firing, joined by the ships flanking it to either side as the two lines clashed in midair. The rolling line of explosions and the cacophony of battle, soft at first, grew louder and more immediate as the enemy airships closed in, engulfing the formation. Julius counted twelve enemy warships, equaling their number. And those were just the ones he could see.
    Below, metal and wood screeched as the ship’s artillery ports opened. Julius and the men of the XIII Germania watched, anticipating the first salvo from the Scioparto with glee. A larger vessel appeared to be sliding toward them, closing the space until it was just parallel to the smaller Scioparto .
    Fire, already!
    All at once, the artillery on the Roman ship fired, launching a barrage of explosive missiles at the Nortland vessel. This time, the artillery crews fired as fast as possible, joined by the smaller pieces on the exposed deck. Legionnaires tried to shield the exposed aircrews as they fired their lightweight weaponry, large shields covering the men as they reloaded. When the breeze blew away the smoke of war that obscured their damage, Julius’s eyes went wide in surprise and he cried out in alarm.
    The enemy vessel was mostly unharmed.
    “Why aren’t our weapons doing any damage?” Julius shouted at Souzetio, who was commanding the nearest scorpion team. Souzetio was helping wind the arms of the scorpion back, while another airman carefully placed a rack of heavy bolts into the firing chamber.
    “They must be armored! Our explosive-tipped ballistae should be dealing damage, though. Armor plating can’t be tough enough to withstand our weaponry and light enough to fly.” The airman grunted as he heaved the last part of the weapon into position. He moved around to take the controls.
    At that moment, the enemy ship—Julius could see the name Hamdar whitewashed onto the hull of the vessel—fired back. The Scioparto rocked from side to side as explosions buffeted the ship.
    “Fire! Fire on deck!” someone shouted as thick smoke billowed from several locations. The ship, still reeling from the bombardment that had just hit it, continued to fight back, but the artillery deck’s weapons must have been heavily damaged—only a few bolts or canisters flew at the enemy ship, denting and notching the sides, but doing little damage otherwise.
    Julius cursed as he picked himself up off the deck. Several of his men