The air was filled with the sound of feet stamping against metal as the entire dinner room charged up the stairs to the bridge. All of them bursting out onto the bridge.
Most of the bridge crew were pressed up against the windows or out on the wings, staring out into the black, mirky night. A mirky night with only the faint signs of stars and a yellow, warm light glimmering in the distance.
“Captain!” Barked one of the crewmembers, “Do you think it could be natives on the ice!? Another ship!? Could the-”
“Ensign, shut your mouth! There are no other ships out there and nobody is stupid enough to go walking out on the pack ice at this time of year, never mind at night! Just hand me and the admiral a pair of binoculars or a spyglass! Mr Lycomb, have seen what it is out there?”
The captain’s 2IC turned and shook his head, “Nothing sir, an icy fog rolled down from the north, just as night came. However, the light is moving and we’re on an intercept course with it.”
A meek-looking sailor came up to the two officers, the admiral and captain snatching the binoculars, even as the man tried to hand it to them. Admiral Greeson quickly pushed himself out onto the right wing of the bridge, the sailors outside parting to let him push himself against the railings, staring out into the blackness.
“Captain!” He called, “What speed are we going!?”
“Six knots!”
“How long would it take us to stop?”
“Not long sir!”
“Well then, continue our present course, we must investigate this phenomenon! Remember everyone, we may be encountering the unknown today.”
The old man then raised up his binoculars and began to peer at the unknown light. Some of the crewmembers were starting to get a little giddy, but some, like Mathew, Captain Lewis and Captain Janson, were being far more restrained. The unknown, while romanticised, can be the path to unexpected disaster, with that fact present in the mind of the three. Even as the fleet’s commander embraced his hopeful fantasy.
Through his own binoculars, Captain Janson couldn’t see a thing. But, as they grew ever closer to the light, he started to doubt his own eyes.
“Admiral! Do you see those silhouettes?!” He yelled.
“Of course I do! Have you kept up with your Inack? We may need it soon.”
“But sir! They shouldn’t be out here!”
“So, we may have discovered a new tribe then! An excellent discovery to pair with our voyage. My! There seems to be about a dozen of them!”
“A… Dozen…”
“Oh, Excellent! If this is a new tribe, we’ll have plenty of them to study… My, we are approaching them rather quickly.”
Mathew’s mind was racing and he was in no doubt that the two captains minds were also running through every possibility. It wasn’t that hard to notice Captain Lewis standing near Commander Whitlock, leaning towards him slightly as he wisped to the man. The commander then nodded as they ran back down the stairs.
What if they were just a preliminary hunting party for a larger group? The stories from the tropic colonies had ones like that with entire villages eaten by marauders. It’d be more common to see those sorts here logically. There was not much to eat other than seals and fish…
“Captain, get your crew ready to stop the ship and signal the Black Diadem to be ready to do the same. I will be going down to greet these new Inack tribals and give them his majesty’s as well.”
Janson nodded slowly, glancing at Mathew and Lewis before saying, “Lieutenant, get down on the deck as well, look out for ice.”
The two met eyes for a moment before he nodded, moving to follow the Admiral down.
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The loud and dull cracking of ice finally stopped as the hulking icebreaker slid to a halt. In front of it, the warm lantern light grew even closer, with the silhouettes slowly coming out of the darkness.
Admiral Greeson stood to attention right at the prow of the ship, the commander and the six marines flanking him. All of them readied to accept the unknowing “delegation” approaching them.
That forced Mathew a little further back, and all of the other crew members firmly behind the front of the ship’s superstructure, so as not to interfere with anything. Leaving the nine of them alone at the front of the ship.
But soon the giddy aura around the admiral would fade a little.
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For what came out of the darkness did not look like a tribe of Inack.
Their faces… Their faces looked twisted. Boils, bubbles, all a part of melted skin that had set. Black, beady black eyes that looked more like that of a pig’s than a man's. Sickly yellowish skin with darkened blotches.
Everything about them was crooked, brutal, and… Unholy.
That was the only word Mathew could come up with. They looked like The Defender had forsaken their ancestors and pagan or daemonic witchcraft had taken their place; It was a sick sight…
But worst of all was the staff the lead one was carrying. It was an old man, crooked and frail as if all the life had been sapped from him. The staff itself was made of driftwood and bone, all carved and melded together in impossible ways, all leading up to its head.
A staff head that he could not make out. It didn’t matter how close they got, or at which angle he looked at it, he couldn’t make out a shape. It was simply an object and not one at the same time. An enigma implanted straight into the fabric of reality and his mind. All that was for sure was that it was the creator of the light.
The admiral cleared his throat.
“Greetings! I speak to you as the first representative of Teyrnas Werdd and its empire. I also extend his majesty’s greetings to you in lieu of his absence.”
He then froze, maybe realising that he had forgotten to bring the captain as his translator before-
“Man of the iron hulk, I greet thee in kind. On behalf of myself, the chosen, and our master.”
Those words came from no one, the grating, deep, booming words seemingly inserting themselves straight into his ears.
The admiral once again steadied himself, his posture kept straight.
“I invite you all to come aboard. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you about how cold it is right now and you could all use a break. It seems like you have been travelling a while.”
“Travelling, travelling, travelling. It’s a perpetual cycle. We do not get tired of it. We do not need your assistance, man of the south. The cold is of no trouble to us. We embrace it as part of our master’s land. It welcomes us every time the wind blows. And every time that it does not.”
At this point, Mathew couldn’t help but feel unnerved, and by the eyes of the commander and the marines, it was a feeling that was shared by everyone but the admiral.
“But my good sir, I simply wish to talk to you all in a more civilised environment. This is our first encounter with you, but you know our language perfectly. It’s a marvel! So henceforth, I would like to discuss with you, inside, the possibility of us coming with us to meet his majesty and all the members of our great scientific community! They would be in awe of you and would most certainly give you the most welcome entrance. It would be one to envy!”
A moment of silence passed over the scene, only filled by the quiet wailing of the cold wind.
“We appreciate your offer, Admiral Greeson, but we refuse. We will reach your majesty in time, but that is not now. Now we must continue our slow trek where the ley lines are, and where our master can still bless us. For their reaches are limited, and they can only embrace us for a few short moments down in your lands. Though soon. Soon it may change, and we will take up your offer.”
Mathew had taken an involuntary step back. Every word being uttered into his ears further made his instincts kick and thrash. The Commander’s breath was also quickening, along with his marines; Their hands clenching around their single-shot rifles. The commander’s hand was also starting to act, pulling his Jælbath from an inner coat pocket.
However, this response also seemed to elicit a response from the admiral. First one of surprise, then one of frustration.
“You misunderstand gentleman, his imperial majesty must be able to see you in person! This is a grand voyage we are a part of, and your people are a grand discovery of the region. You will come with us!”
The beady eyes of them all flicked to the Jælbath in Commander Whitlock’s hand.
And as the voice came back, it was laced with venom. The entire group of tribals took a step forward towards the ship as the words were spoken. All in complete unison.
“We will not come with you! Followers of the rotting god! YOU DO NOT-“
“FIRE”
A volley of fire roared across the deck, the marines all quickly wheeling their rifles and ripping into the daemonic group below. The soldiers not waiting for the order to reload their rifles and let loose once again, cutting another swathe of them down in a split second of pulling the trigger.
They were halfway through reloading for another volley before the admiral could finally react.
“Stop! STOP! CEASE FIRE YOU WRETCHED, IMBISILIC VERMIN! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE JUST DONE!?”
His scream echoed across the wasteland, the usually calm man now beet red and nearing the verge of tears.
Mathew let his eyes drift down, a field of carnage meeting his gaze.
Their bodies were strewn everywhere, five of them being cut down in the first volley, with six more dying in the second. Just as they turned to run.
All that was left, was one man, squirming and screaming on the floor, blood seeping from a wound in his arm. The round had missed his torso and head, but had cut a ragged chunk out of his upper arm, the bits of which now lay scattered across the snow-white ground.
“All of you! You will ALL be receiving fifteen lashes when we get back! And no less! So get yourselves down there and get that staff and wounded man or else there will be MORE in it for you lot!”
“But-“
“I DON’T CARE THAT THEY WERE SAVAGES! HIS MAJESTY NEEDED TO SEE THEM. THE VOYAGE NEEDED THIS GREAT DISCOVERY! So damned it be if I don’t return with that man and the staff AT LEAST! Lieutenant! Get them the ladder, quickly now!”
Mathew could only shakily nod as he peeled his eyes away from the carnage on the ice, beckoning some sailors to step forth from the now chattering line behind him as he dashed to the ladder box. Ripping its top open before others came to start unfurling the wood and rope thing. The marines quickly followed down.
“Get the winch down with a stretcher!” He yelled, “We need it! Come on! Admiral’s orders!”
Some more came forth as they nodded, running to the winch and attaching the emergency stretcher to it. Mathew had always imagined that would only be used when he or his comrades managed to hack a limb off with their picks, or get caught in a blast. Not once had he thought of it being used to winch up a strange tribal after they’d been shot.
But sure enough, as the men pulled and pulled, trying to be as careful as possible to not take their own fingers off, that tribal was lifted up onto the deck; Still screaming from his wounds. A horrible, shrill shrieking like his throat had been clawed at on the inside by wild beasts.
While Mathew had heard many screams during accidents, with men losing limbs and their lives. Flesh burned. Muscles ripped from the body and left arms hollow. All the horrors created by machines, explosives and ignorance. This one. This one seemed to stick in his mind.