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Sky Pirates Over London

Magnesium-white and fire-orange flashes burst high above the streets of London. Dark shapes drifted through the ochre industrial smog like great birds of prey, drifting past one another before belching forth their dazzling coloured lights. Occasionally the fog around one would clear enough for keen-eyed observers to catch a glimpse of hull or rigging, but true awareness of their nature was reserved for the luminaries up among the clouds.

Captain Newton Mitchel had the questionable fortune to be close enough and he wasn't made much happier for it. "Hard to port!"

The midshipman at the helm of the HMA Brigadine, inexpertly hauling the ship's wheel into a rough spin, sent the Royal Armada Airship listing and stumbled over the corpse of the previous helmsman. Previously stationed over Gibraltar, the crew hadn't been sufficiently trained to replace casualties in the heat of battle.

The hull shuddered as a bolt of electricity slammed into it, hurled by their fog-shrouded opponent as it sailed into view. Their foe was larger but sleeker than the staunch British airship, a modern commercial vessel designed to sail for weeks between ports. A pair of electro-mechanical cannons had been bolt-mounted to the hard-points at its fore, cone-like devices of wire and clockwork covered in circular copper plates capable of drawing forth the essence of the sky itself and focusing that energy into powerful blasts of concussive electric force. Each hit from these terrible weapons had shaken the Brigadine's integrity and killed a sizable portion of her crew.

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