The Spear of Retribution was a nearly two hundred meters in length, a narrow lance of a vessel built around her murderous ram and huge engines, one of the fastest things in the sky and designed to shatter opposing warships with brute impact after outmanoeuvring them. Her weaponry was also designed around the goal of destroying opposing warships, forward batteries of mortars firing naphtha shells, with relatively light secondary armament of one inch repeater cannon turrets for close defence.
The guns had proven completely useless against the angels so far as Talitha could tell but the Spear did have a crew of a thousand including two cohorts of aerial legionaries. Four hundred highly trained riflewomen supported by twenty battle mages in addition to those of the capital ship's own crew. Could they defeat three angels in a boarding action? She suspected the answer was no, not with the darkness and confusion having allowed the angels to reach the hull uninjured.
She marched forward even as she felt the engines cut off, the forward momentum of the huge vessel slowing. It seemed to be deliberate? No doubt the captain wanted to reduce the slipstream so that mere mortals could operate atop the hull now that the angels were on board regardless. Ahead was the twisted and shattered wreckage of what she thought was no 5 turret, a lightning melted ruin that lead to a deep rift in the armoured hull.
She vaulted in through the hole only to feel a surge of lightning, the ping of bullets against steel and aluminium, the scent of burning flesh and blood. The magazine and compression station below the turret were a charnel house with a dozen broken and scorched corpses but she could hear fighting further on in and charged through the wrenched open hatch, sword leading and pistol still in her off hand.
Beyond she found carnage. The spinal corridor of the Spear transformed from a well lit passageway to a nightmare hellscape of twisted and molten metal along with the corpses or maimed forms of crew women and legionaries. What illumination existed came from the crackling lightning surrounding a female angelic figure as she stalked forwards, her spread wings trailing sparks against the metal walls, spear levelled, pulsing strobes of light and death as every other heartbeat she stabbed out a bolt into the fraying ranks of the defenders.
Talitha did immediately come to the realization that the angel was injured, she was limping, holes in her armour, the corona of lightning and whirling air wavering as a trio of mages projected rams of concentrated air against her. They were failing to overwhelm anything were acting in concert with legionaries rapid firing their rifles, the flat snap-crack of air weapons in an endless fusilade.
Then two mages, one of them screamed and fell to the deck as she took a bolt to her unarmoured foot, spasming, the limping angel continued to close as bullets impacted off her aura, her armour, were spun by twisting winds to impact the bulkheads.
Talitha cleared herself of the door, lowered her sabre, reached out to the torn aluminium grillwork underfoot. She fed it some of her frustrated anger, fuelled by the contempt on the angel's face as she slaughtered those brave enough to stand against her. A thousand lines across the metal grates glowed white hot for a moment, severing the floor into hundreds of tiny metal red hot metal shards as it exploded by beneath the angel. Talitha grit her teeth as she pushed with her mind at the will of the universe, then it bent.
The angel screamed as she was lacerated, the storm of glowing metal fragments ripping through her silver feathers, slicing into every scrap of exposed skin, her spear dropping from her hands as she staggered into the mess of pipes below the floor and awkwardly whirled toward the source of this new attack.
Then she lurched forwards and lay still as golden blood leaked from her in profusion, her face a ruined mess from the rifle round that took her in the cheek. Her body then jerked as she was struck by more bullets, though most simply careened off her gleaming armour. A shout then. “Cease fire!” A cough, the air thick with smoke. “Cease fire! Triage the wounded!” The person speaking was obviously an officer, distinguished by her more complete armour, in three quarter plate similar in design to Talitha's own though lacking the gold trim or intensity of glowing defensive runes.
She was also limping as she tugged lose her helm then gave a plate stiffled bow. “Your grace, thank you. That w-” Talitha cut her off. “You fought well lieutenant but the other two will be assaulting the bridge. I want you to task every uninjured legionary you have to follow me forward. Immediately.” The younger woman immediately deepened the bow before turning to obey.
Talitha turned to jog down the torn corridor and toward the sounds of fighting forward, a clash of steel accompanying her movement, pausing only once for a glance back that confirmed she was being followed by a good number of half armoured legionaries with their bayoneted rifles.
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An armoured hatch briefly impeded her process, sealed shut, partially melted, it was a matter of a few seconds to wreath her sword in fire then slice through the bulkhead before kicking the dripping steel aside. She was immediately met by a hammerblow of hot air, outstretched and gleaming wings, the achingly sharp lancetip of a heavenly spear with the entire weight and momentum of an angel behind him.
He was shrouded in fire and apparently propelling himself down the corridor through the act of extending out his wings then superheading the air behind him, moving faster than thought. She caught the spearhead with her sabre, wrenched it, felt a crack or pop as the terrible impact did something to her elbow. The angel was deflected and slammed burning into the armoured bulkhead to her side even as her sword tumbled from her hand, arm hanging lose, she set her jaw as she whirled.
Rather than trying to tug his spear from the wall the angel instead snapped out one crimson and gold wing to hammer into her chest, cracking with flame of course, her armour preventing the inhumanly strong impact from breaking bones or the fire from touching her flesh but did nothing to dampen the imparted momentum. She found the air forced from her lungs as she was thrown into the wall opposite, a harsh metallic clang, the ache of what promised to be truly spectacular bruises along with an agonised wrench from her right arm. She was stunned.
As legionaries forced through the molten entrance she cut earlier, calling out wordlessly as they fired a volley then rushed with their bayonets lowered. The angel flinched, bleeding as at least one bullet struck home, then twisted with impossible grace to grab one bayonet, jerk the unfortunate woman closer, then incinerate her through her armour press of a palm to forehead. The others dropped back a step, another screaming as she was clubbed across the cheek with the half of the purloined rifle, the weapon shattering as she went down with shattered bones.
Talitha lifted her hand, gauntlet glowing, then once again pushed against reality, drawing in the power stolen earlier as she absorbed the divine lightning and expelling it once again. Now the angel screamed as he was transfixed, smoking, spasming, shedding sparks from his wings and stunned for the few seconds that it required for a half dozen burly women to bear him down and stab him twenty times through gaps in his gleaming armour. More golden blood across the decks as Talitha forced herself, aching, to her feet, hugging at her right arm, wincing as ever motion caused the broken limb to throb.
Eyes closed, a deep breath, she masked her agony once she composed herself and spoke aloud. “Well fought legionaries, I will see all eight of you.” Nods given to the two on the floor, both the dead woman and the one with the shattered face. “Promoted for this, or if not you have pensions for your and your families lives. My sword!” She let her broken arm hang at her side for now as she took her sabre in her left, shifting her gauntleted grip.
Then as more followed through the breach. “Tend to the wounded! You, and you. Everyone else, with me! There is only one of them left.” Despite her best efforts she was moving much more slowly now as she forced herself along the charred corridor, every step sending pangs of pain through her back and arm, deliberate breaths, focusing on ignoring the exhaustion.
It was impossible to miss the ash and charred corpses as she worked toward the bridge, just how many people had that fire angel slain? Far too many. Even so she felt relief as she arrived to find the last angel badly wounded, forced back with one wing bloodied and dragging as a trio of plate armoured officers pressed at her with their swords and magic, focusing entirely on offense as a half dozen further mages behind them fortified their defence. She joined in that effort and within thirty seconds or so the angel had been cut down, the commander from earlier apparently having delivered the final blow.
She turned to the captain, a woman in her mid fifties, clad in now battered but still gleaming armour, bloodied sword in hand as she gave a careful bow. “Your grace! We have only slain one of them, you must prepare to abandon ship a-.” Mindful of her injuries Talitha made a vague motion aft with her sword, still glowing faintly, though she had dismissed the fire from earlier. “I must do nothing Captain Vanmecker. Order the Spear back to full speed and resume our course. All of the enemy are dead though I will require medical attention. Your crew fought commendably and will be rewarded though I will have a full account of how we were caught with so little warning. Report your findings to me once you are done with damage control and medical triage.”
Talitha was fully aware that she had only personally killed one of those three angels, she fully intended to ensure those who had aided her were properly rewarded and recognised, but no, she was not going to lessen the impact of what she had just done with false modesty. Not given her goals, what she needed to do. The impact was also obvious upon the faces and stance of those present. Three dead angels, each a peerless inhuman warrior with the power of an archmage and gift of flight. Yes, they were looking at her with awe as she tromped painfully back to her quarters.
She could not let them see just how much pain she was in though or how utterly spent she was, even if she was not going to be able to hide it from the doctor setting her arm later, for now she could do her best to appear invincible.
She was Arch Duchess Talitha Emelina Kathryne Cervantes, High Admiral, Archmage of Air and Fire, Minister of War and power behind the throne. Dragonslayer, now would they call her Bane of Angels? It was a good start. She sat heavily as Eleni fussed and removed her battered armour, suppressing as wince as the support of the steel was removed from her broken arm. She tried not to think about the fact that her own daughter would have been almost the age of her squire if she had lived. She failed.
At least this attack gave her exactly the kind of argument she wanted for the summit. The gods had sent angels to try to kill her for what she was going to say, to silence her. They feared her, they feared what she could begin and they had just proved they could be stopped.