Matthias Scott - Air Pirate

MCMXXXI-II-XI

Ten Years Ago

The Captain of CA-01, Carsten Jakob Schultz, was tall and lean. A military man since the age of eighteen, his family had been part of the Europan Republic's armed forces for nearly as long as the Republic had intended to dominate the world. Countless wars had come and gone, and through them all, to the final result of a unified world, the Schultz line had remained unshakably loyal to the Republic and its goals. Now in command of the first ship of her class, Albatross, a new design of Capital Airship, the man had attained what might as well have been a straight shot to becoming an Admiral.

Dark hair and eyes teamed with tanned, weathered skin, made him look a bit older than he actually was. This was something that he rarely found occasion to complain about. It seemed to help with command – as did the finely trimmed mustache and beard. He was not graying in the slightest, though many assumed that he dyed his hair. A grin came to his lips as he looked around the bridge at the marvelous aerial monster's control systems. Bristling with armaments and carrying an entire complement of aircraft in her hangar bay and flight deck, she was probably one of the most over-armed patrol craft of all time.

Running his hands along the arms of his captain's chair, he leaned back in it and shut his eyes, enjoying the feel of the comfortable chair. So far everything had been going successfully. The vessel's trials had all been successful, and today they were launching aircraft. Their fighters were out at the moment, flying in formation, practicing flying CAP around the vessel. Not that they really needed a combat air patrol. The four enemies of the Republic were long defeated. Anymore it was a formality. Hell, the Air Force was the only branch that had continued to grow and expand after the global Unification Wars were over.

The Republican Navy and Army had both shrunk considerably. The Republican Marines had been split between the Navy and Air Force – with the Air Force gaining the larger percentage as the Navy dwindled. Airships could go places that naval vessels simply couldn't, but could perform nearly all the same functions. Specialized vessels such as submarines and destroyers still plied the seas, but aircraft carriers, battleships, and cruisers were so draining on resources they had been entirely phased out.

“Sir, we have a storm off the port side, heading this way.” The Navigator said, standing at a bank of monitors. Said monitors were connected to cameras placed all around the vessel. A bit grainy, not to mention only black and white, they were still incredibly useful – giving the bridge crew eyes all around the ship.

“A storm?” Schultz questioned, “The skies were clear moments ago.”

The Navigator shrugged, “Mother Nature is not always a friendly sort. Judging by that storm, she looks to be in a bad mood.”

Schultz nodded, then looked to his Communications Officer, “Radio the aircraft that we have out to come on back. No sense in them being out in this.”

“Aye, Sir.” The officer replied, and went to work even as Schultz moved to the telescope that pointed out from the port side of the bridge.

The storm seemed truly massive. Clouds an angry, asphalt gray color and flashing from within as lightning cracked inside the storm. The waves far below the clouds churned and roiled, driven by the wind of the storm. It was a big one for sure, though the Albatross-class had been designed for the possibility of such encounters. Still, it was better to err on the side of caution than to be too bold – at least when it came to challenging Mother Nature.

“Helm, once those aircraft are back aboard, take us up over those clouds. I would prefer not to have any mishaps due to weather on our first outing.” Schultz said as he headed back to his chair, and the helmsmen nodded.

It took nearly half an hour to recover the CAP fighters, and the storm was nearly upon them. Just as the dirigible's helmsmen were about to begin raising the vessel, the engines cut out. The vessel seemed to lose power completely; the lights going out and then flickering back to life. The ship's batteries were working, but her engines were inoperable. Reports from engineers quickly came in, telling of them trying to get the engines operational again, but nothing seemed to be working. Though the problem was quickly identified: the engines weren't getting fuel – instead, there was water in the lines.

Bewildered, Schultz stroked his beard in thought for a moment, though paused when he noticed that one of his two helmsmen looked dazed. The other seemed concerned, and gently prodded at his dazed comrade; then gave him a gentle shake. It was the shake that garnered a response. One that nobody on the bridge would have expected. The dazed man turned deadly, lunging at his friend and tackling him to the deck. A flurry of punches and scratches followed in less than a moment's span, before he leaned down, opened his jaws wide, and tore the other man's throat out.

So startled was everyone that they couldn't move for a moment, until they heard still more screams from the second floor of the bridge and saw another crewman attacking someone. Their focus was brought back though when the slain helmsman stood up and went on the attack. One rushed the Navigator and lunged, getting into a grapple with the man. The other charged Schultz. The Captain went for his sidearm, but didn't get a chance to use it as he was tackled to the deck. Not far away, he heard his other officer scream. At the same time, his communications officer began to send out a distress call over the radio.

“This is CA-01...”

But he never got to finish it. The seemingly crazed helmsman had snapped the navigator's neck and then moved to the communications officer. Just after the man started to speak, the helmsman grabbed the cord that when to his mic, and ripped it out of the gear before tackling him. Schultz managed to roll himself and his attacker, then grab the dead man by the neck and pin him down. A second later, he pulled his sidearm and shoved the barrel into the living corpse's mouth, squeezing the trigger.

He panted a bit, then looked up and saw the struggling communications officer. He leveled his weapon, took careful aim, and fired; nearly taking the attacker's head off. The man beneath the limp corpse shoved it away and looked to his captain for orders.

“We must find Colonel Rathskeller. Albrecht should know how to stop this.” Even as the captain spoke, however, the storm outside rolled over the airship and swallowed her whole.

==X==X==X==

Europa was once a land of chaos, discord, and strife. Powerful magic, fearsome creatures, predators that slip through the dark, and men that lusted for power were common place. War was the norm, with peace being little more than a pause for breath between conflict. Even as great nations and alliances grew out of the ancient past, as technology grew and powers aligned, Europa's divisions only grew. Mighty empires rose and fell as they always do, until finally there were only five great powers left. The three kingdoms of Titan, Revenant, and Elision, as well as the Empire of Tarsus, and finally the smallest of the five: the Europan Republic.

Despite the implicit claim of the last, the other four paid it little mind. Thousands of years of warfare had taught them one thing above all: small countries tended to wither and die in the face of a larger nation's power, with only few note-worthy exceptions. The Republic held not even control of a whole continent, sharing half the continent it sat upon with the Kingdom of Elision. Great Elision, large and powerful, controlled the rest of the landmass, as well as the whole of the one to its north. The other three nations dared not attack either – Elision out of fear, and the Republic due to its proximity. The Republic, however, knew better than to fear its large, and apparently powerful, neighbor.

Elision's King was old and frail, and his eldest son, who few believed was a legitimate heir to the old man's throne, had no experience in such a position of power. Scholarly and not well suited for combat physically, the kingdom's military was not behind him. Politically, the military's alliances were split between the king's other five sons, only two of which had the same mother, though they were also the youngest of the lot. The support for them was mostly from military leaders who felt they could control the young boys like puppet-masters.

When the old man finally died, and the eldest son was crowned King of Elision, it only took a matter of weeks for things to fall apart into civil war. Battle lines were drawn, and in less than four months the once mighty military forces of Elision were doing nothing more than spilling the blood of their own countrymen. The war raged with no end in sight, and with the other three nations cut off from the continents by oceans on all sides, the ever-changing situation made a campaign against the warring factions an untenable proposition. Untenable, at least, for those three. For the Republic, however, their time to claim power had finally come.

Using their navy, they took the massive island off the continent's south-western coast with a fast and brutal campaign, and once it was fully under their control, they swept further south, then east, and landed forces on the eastern coast of the continent. Without a united military, and after bleeding themselves dry, the soldiers of Elision found themselves fighting one another, as well as being caught in a massive pincer movement. One side of which was the military forces landed by the navy, and the other being an assault launched over-land from the Republic proper. It was only made worse in that the Republic never officially declared war, and called the campaign simply “a measure to restore order to the lands of Elision”. Of course, it was never the Republic's intention to restore an Elision government.

It took the Republic two decades to conquer the whole of Elision, but the once small nation now held more land then any other nation in Europa's history. As well, with the Elision civil war at an end, and the Republic's government in control, the military prospered, as did the nation's economy. However, there was one dark mark on it all for the Republic's government: the fact that there were those in their territory, and around the world, who they found it difficult to control. The 'supernaturals' that lived among them were a problem that needed to be solved.

The solution that was put forward was devilishly simple: register and obey, or be destroyed. There was no middle ground, and there were enough magi and other supernaturals working in the Republic's armed forces already that it was a simple matter to hunt down others. The Senate sent the order far and wide within its borders, and when the flow of registers started sluggishly, they didn't wait. They dug in their spurs without second thought. In response, a revolution began. Powerful magi families stood alongside werewolf packs and vampire bloodlines. Fae, dwarfs, elves, and more – from natural allies to classic enemies – came to their aid, and many more even came from across the sea to help... a reaction the Republic had secretly hoped for.

The supernaturals that stood against the government internally would have been reason enough for the first phase of their grand scheme, but those who came from without expedited the process. An agency was formed in response to all the trouble: the Supernatural Intelligence Division. With humans in overall control of the SID, its ranks were filled with supernatural entities. Witches, warlocks, sorcerers, wizards, vampires, werewolves, fae, elves, dwarfs, and any other that would dedicate themselves to the Republic's efforts.

Some were loyal simply because they believed in the Republic, what it stood for, and preferred the rule of humans to the rule of their own species. This was most common among the vampires that joined – many of whom were younger, and felt that the vampire councils, and senate, were too oppressive; too rigid and unyielding in the face of time's advance. Others joined, fearing that a human victory was inevitable, and preferring to be on the winning side. A few joined, however, because they had plans for the future, and the SID was a means to an end. No matter their reason for joining, within five years, the revolution was put down, and registration became the norm inside the Republic's territories.

With the internal struggle handled, the Republic cast its hungry gaze across the seas, and for the next hundred years, it would begin one bushfire war after another. It fought for islands and patches of ground that the other three nations were only willing to lose so many men over before conceding victory, and territory, to the Republic. These scraps of ground would be developed into important footholds and staging areas. With sea lanes secured, the Republic waited once more, building itself stronger, and watching the other three nations with a greed filled gaze. All it needed was an open opportunity.

That opportunity came when the Empire of Tarsus attacked the Kingdom of Revenant to its north, across the Moldavian Sea, and from the west by going around it. The Empire had better training and equipment, but the Kingdom of Revenant had far more men. The Empire had the initiative, however, and despite how hard-won the battles were, they pushed onward. All eyes seemed to be on the war that raged between the two continental powers, but the Republic's gaze fell upon the Kingdom of Titan, and the lands they held that were between the Endangered Zone, and the ocean's depths.

Once more without warning, the Republic launched a campaign against the Kingdom of Titan, using their vast and powerful naval forces, and their hard-bitten army, they struck with brutality and a distinct lack of mercy. Section-S (the S standing for “Special”, or “Special-Operations”) became a front line combat unit. They were used much like cavalry – to break through the line and hit the enemy from the rear. However, they also pushed deep into the nation, far behind where organized military forces were, and began to do to the native populations what had been done within the Republic: the registration, primarily. This expanded into recruitment – a draft – of supernaturally gifted individuals.

Those that went willingly were rewarded. Those that stood against them were slain. Little mercy was shown, and by the time that the main contingent of the Republic's military forces caught up with them, most of the areas they had been working in were already pacified. The tide could have been turned, had Titan received aid from either Revenant or Tarsus, but locked in combat as they were, the two great powers could nigh afford to dedicate any of their forces to fighting a war that was not theirs. This became especially true for Revenant, as Tarsus began to score one victory after another and drove for the kingdom's capital.

By the time that Tarsus had conquered Revenant, the Republic was already solidifying its control of Titan, and enforcing registration just as it had done in its previously acquired lands. However, despite the harsh treatment of supernaturals, the lands flourished under the Republic's control. Damage was quickly repaired, and the local economy stabilized as it became directly tied to a large, economic powerhouse. Most laws were fairly relaxed, though they were enforced to the letter when occasion called for it. The Republic was, after all, a democratic, capitalist nation.

The Empire, however, the Republic's last remaining rival, was not so kind. Revenant's people suffered in numerous ways, from economically, to physically, and even mentally. The Empire wanted to push the lands that they had conquered, beat them into submission, and then strike out. It knew that the Republic had just finished a war of its own, and wanted to strike before the morale boost of their hard-earned victory wore off.

Unlike every other time, it was the Empire that struck first against the Republic, startling the superpower. Their recently acquired lands were the first target, and the Empire's shock troops drove deep. Not having expected the assault, the Republic's forces were slow to stem the tide, though eventually they did – at least until the next surge came. Partisans in the conquered lands of Titan aided the Empire at first, wrecking supply lines and wreaking havoc behind the front. However, when word began to get across that the Empire was actually worse, the Partisans switched sides.

The Republic forgave their initial transgressions, showing compassion to those that had helped their enemy, and gaining support in the process. Not long after, arms shipments to the partisans began, and the Empire's advance was slowed to a crawl as they rooted out and slew the partisans and their leaders. Meanwhile, the Republic was gathering its army and fighting naval battles seemingly everywhere. Every ocean became a battleground, and technology continued to advance.

The march of time saw the rise of all-metal warships: dreadnoughts, destroyers, cruisers, and more. Aircraft were built and utilized in combat roles – and aircraft carriers were born. Metal monsters known as tanks arrived after the internal combustion engine gave rise to automobiles. The invention of the machine gun came and revolutionized warfare, making it bloodier than ever before. All the while the war continued.

Finally, at the turn of the twentieth century, decades after the liberation and annexation of Revenant by Republican forces, the capital of the Empire of Tarsus was captured, and the Imperial family fled to avoid extermination. The pacification process was rather simple, but the captured lands of Tarsus, Revenant, and Titan are still considered as being along the lines of a 'frontier'. With the considerable downsizing of the Republic's armed forces, this frontier is not a safe place.

Pirates and outlaws abound here, and as these lands are both not far from the Endangered Zone, and far from the Republic's capital, a great deal goes on here that many from the Republic's original lands would not expect. Despite enforcement, registration means little here, and there are many 'free ports' and 'free cities' scattered about across the continents. Laws vary from place to place, as does how strictly they are enforced – if at all.

And the Captain of the Silver Fayer should have taken this into more careful consideration.