Read Sigmund Shaw: A Steampunk Adventure Online
Authors: Mark C. King
HMS Dominant,
the premier battle dirigible of the RAF flew at full steam out of Northolt towards Battersea. Accompanying this flying fortress were four destroyer class dirigibles –
HMS Osprey
,
HMS Talon
,
HMS Lightning
,
HMS Firefly
– and a scout ship, the
HMS Eagle Eye
.
The
Dominant
was the largest dirigible of the entire RAF fleet. A dual balloon powered monster of the sky. The cabin was completely armored in thick iron with eight cannons on swivel mounts along each side. Two cannons guarded the rear with three more in the front, below the forward view windows. The front of the cabin was sixty feet wide. It bulged out to seventy-five feet in the middle and then back to sixty in the rear. The height was a consistent twenty-five feet, allowing for two levels of operation. Attached to the rear of the cabin, one on each side, were two massive propellers churning the air and propelling the giant ship forward, while a smoke stack extended straight back past the end of the balloons, giving it a dark, menacing tail. Above the cabin, attached to it, was an iron shield that completely covered the lower half of the giant balloons which kept the
Dominant
aloft. The balloons themselves were made up of seven individual pockets each, separated by iron plating. Even losing up to six of the pockets, the ship could still operate.
Besides the cannons, the ship could carry several bombs and it currently carried a full complement of them as the initial report was of a ground battle, no airships involved.
Flying in formation, there were two destroyers on each side of the
Dominant
. The destroyer class of ship had a one story iron cabin with four cannons on each side, and one cannon in both the front and the back. Its iron shield covered a quarter of the single balloon that gave flight to them. Although less armed and armored, they also had two engines which made these ships faster and more maneuverable than the battle dirigible. These too carried bombs for this mission.
Inside the
Dominant’s
command room, Group Captain Randolph ‘The Falcon’ Faulkner sat in his chair and surveyed his crew. Faulkner had had command of this ship since its maiden voyage, a little over a year ago. He had gone through three helmsman in that time, but finally seemed to have someone who could perform well. He expected excellence from himself and he expected the same from those around him. Although considered tough, he was also considered fair – as well as the most decorated Group Captain the RAF had ever had. It was at the Battle of Talana Hill, during the Second Boer war, that Faulkner became known as ‘The Falcon’. He commanded an older style destroyer at the time and found tremendous success diving down on the enemy like a falcon coming after its prey. Faulkner had the uncanny ability to think in the three dimensions of flying. This gave him an advantage as so many captains struggled to change their views from that of a flat battle field. He continued his success in subsequent battles, earning his Group Captain rank at an early age.
Faulkner smoothed his thick dark mustache and, as he adjusted his hat, said, “Any word yet from the Eagle Eye, Hoffman?”
Hoffman was the communications officer manning the Marconi Wireless Telegraph machine. “Not yet, Captain.” responded Hoffman, not looking up from his paper and pencil, ready to take any message as it came in.
The captain knew that as soon as there was a communication, Hoffman would let him know, but he needed to keep his voice present, forefront in his crew’s mind as they headed into potential battle.
The
HMS Eagle Eye
was several hundred yards ahead of them. It was a fast scout ship designed to get to an area, observe, and report. Its hull was made of light wood – reinforced only in the engine area to keep the engine from tearing out – and it had three propellers that gave it great speed and maneuverability. Only the racing dirigibles that could be found in competition at public events could be said to be faster. The crew was minimal, only three men, which kept the cabin small and the ship light. Its balloon was like an elongated rugby ball, very narrow at the front and the back, but thick in the middle. The design was supposed to allow it to pass through the air quicker. The key feature of the scout ship was the glass compartment below the front of the cabin. The compartment was big enough for one man to sit in and had a large adjustable brass telescope, on a swivel, that gave its operator a view of what was happening around and below.
From the distance that the
Dominant
was from the
Eagle Eye
, it wasn’t much more than a dark shape through the grey, leaving a trail of black smoke in her wake. Overcast skies persisted, but the fog had let up a little. Faulkner thanked the heavens that the wind wasn’t bad.
“Sir! Incoming transmission,” said the communications officer, “It is the Eagle Eye, they say that the battle is in progress. Many casualties can be seen.”
Faulkner gritted his teeth. This was happening in London, in the heart of England! Faulkner had his doubts about the report that the new Defence Minister, Grimkraken, was behind this, but many of the RAF base’s men had left at Grimkraken’s orders. Something was definitely happening but regardless of what exactly, the result was a division in the empire – and death. Complete madness!
“More, sir!” Hoffman exclaimed, “They are reporting that an airship is rising from the factory.”
Someone retreating?
Thought Faulkner. They won’t get far, not with this group after them. He grabbed a speaking tube that routed to the gun rooms and shouted, “Ready harpoons!” The cannons could not only be loaded with explosives and incendiaries, but could also be loaded with harpoons and rope in order to capture other ships. “It looks like we have a ship to catch.”
“It’s a battleship, sir! Large, unknown design. The Eagle Eye says that it has no visible balloon…”
“A battleship?” Faulkner cried in alarm. “Where did Grimkraken get that?” Faulkner knew all the battleships in the fleet. If one was reassigned, he would know about. “Hoffman, tell Eagle Eye to report on guns and be sure to keep their distance.”
“Aye, sir.”
Faulkner stood up from his chair and walked to the front window besides the helmsman. He grabbed a spyglass and looked towards the Battersea Factory. He was too far to make anything out besides smoke climbing from the battlefield. “Blasted! Still can’t see anything.” Grabbing another speaking tube he said, “Belay last order. Ready for ship-to-ship battle!”
“At least ten cannons on the starboard side,” yelled Hoffman. “Another large cannon protruding from the front.”
Ten cannons? There is no ship with that many guns.
Faulkner wondered about a possible false shell. He had heard of some enterprising people disguising a rather simple dirigible with false armor and guns to make it look more intimidating. “Tell Eagle Eye to circle the area and stay clear of firing range.”
“Aye, sir.”
It would still be a few minutes before they were in long cannon range. Experience had taught him that those minutes would not be of the short variety.
“Sir, the ship is rising and rotating. They say it is fast.”
It must be a false shell. No battleship was ever called fast.
“Main gun is being trained on the Eagle Eye.”
“They are out of range, correct?”
“Yes, sir, they are–” the sentence was interrupted by a flash of light. The crew looked through the forward windows and could see what was once the
Eagle Eye
become a falling fireball.
Faulkner stared in horror. One of his ships was down. They must have been too close, they must have been mistaken about their distance. He had a hard time convincing himself of this as the crew of
Eagle Eye
was superb. “Hoffman, tell the squadron to execute maneuver Falcon-One.”
“Aye, sir.”
Falcon-One was a simple foundational tactic. It would spread the squadron out and increase all their altitudes. It was the beginning of a surrounding technique.
Hoffman looked over at the Captain, a confused and nervous look on his face, “Sir, I’m picking up another signal. It is saying to attack the fleet.”
“Who’s sending it?”
“Uncertain, sir. There is no identification given.”
The blast of cannons with closely followed explosions sounded throughout the cabin shocking the bridge crew. Faulkner screamed, “What the devil?” as they all looked out the port windows. They could make out the
Talon
, moving away and gaining altitude as ordered, rocking and smoking. Further past, they could see the
Lightning
, matching the
Talon
, and it was firing its cannons.
Talon
took another hit and steam started to billow out its side. The engine room was compromised.
Faulkner was able to put together the message and this attack quickly. The
Lightning
was being manned by those siding with Grimkraken. He raged at the treasonous murder and picked up a speaking tube and shouted, “Fire on the Lightning. Repeat, fire on the Lighting! Fifty percent incendiary. Blow those traitors out of the sky!” Half the cannons would contain incendiary shells that would be aimed at the balloon. The hydrogen that lifted these machines was highly flammable.
The
Talon
was losing altitude. Not only were its engines compromised, the balloon must have taken puncture damage as well. There was little that the
Dominator
could do but hope and pray that the descent would be slow enough to not kill the crew – whomever was left of it.
The
Dominator
shook with its cannon barrage. In the cabin, the sound was near deafening and completely satisfying to the crew that just watched their fellow ship be downed. The
Lightning
was a little far off, but still well within range – it took several hits. Another barrage and the
Lightning’s
cabin exploded followed by its balloon. Another fireball rained down on London.
Faulkner reconsidered his situation. They hadn’t even reached the battlefront and he was down three ships. Apparently the
Firefly
and the
Osprey
were loyal since they haven’t attacked each other or him. “Hoffman, tell the remaining ships to execute Protocol Five – preferably the Thames.” Protocol Five had dirigibles drop their bombs in a safe location to reduce weight.
“Aye, sir.”
Picking up another speaking tube, Faulkner commanded, “Bombardier, Protocol Five.” Faulkner walked back to his chair and sat heavily. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought of the next steps – mourning would be for later. Grimkraken’s ship, whatever kind it was, had at least one working long range cannon. If that was true, the advantage could be negated by getting in close. They best way to get close was to approach through the clouds so as not to be seen and fired upon. “Hoffman, Falcon-Three.”
“Communicated, sir. Falcon-Three.”
The squadron was already climbing, but now they would stop in the middle of the cloud layer. Faulkner rose up from his chair again and looked out the front window. The Battersea area was visible, although small, and he could just make out some object hovering above the ground. He took up the spyglass and directed his view towards the object. His mouth opened in surprise when he saw the flying battleship. He couldn’t make out a lot of detail still, but it was large, had many guns, and was rising straight up quickly without a visible balloon.
Not possible!
As the
Dominator
reached the cloud layer, he lost his view of the enemy ship – but the memory of it was crystal clear.
They flew on through the clouds, seeing nothing but greyness. Although they couldn’t be sure, they knew they were approaching their firing range to the last known position of the enemy ship. A quietness came over the crew, as if they made too much noise it would give their position away. They could hear their engines but also a deep thrumming sound that was not familiar. It was unnerving. Faulkner picked up a tube and commanded, “Fire on sight. Twenty-five percent incendiary.” His ship would not be found impotent.