--The Pointy End, 500m Above the City--
Plasma surveys the Baronies Fleet with a spyglass. Surprise turning to elation as the tar maneuver successfully cripples the front lines of the enemy fleet, preventing advancement for a moment.
The Pointy End's engines purr against the wind, gently countering their influence with a whispered, guttural rebuke. The battle plan squawks over the radio. Verra acknowledges, then commands the BreakPoint, and CounterPoint into a loose triangular formation, the other two listing slightly behind the Pointy End. A triangle of three triangles.
The Baronies kept the traitors advancing under a barrage of fire. The Pointy End began to dip, rocked slightly, then came to and abrupt halt. Smoke issued from the ships and the city did not fire. Plasma smiled. But it soon faded.
The tiny ships began to race forward over and under the Tar, staggering their approach, making it difficult to hit them all on the same plane of fire. Soon they were a mere 4 km off.
A word crackled over the radio.
Radio
"Point Wing, FIRE."
Verra echoed the order with sinister exultation. The weapons thundered in time. Projectiles eagerly racing each other through the air, rippling the suspended tar. They discarded streaks of burnt powder residue and screamed their joy before punching through the metal plating of the diesel engines on the approaching squids and, displeased with the abrupt halt, detonated. Their rage tore propeller, fuel lines, and drive alike.
But the Squids were fast.
Round after round issued from the powerful guns, but the transports were advancing behind the screen.
Soon the oncoming wave of ships would have their tentacles in the guns of the battery. But a new source of thunder shattered the sky. The heavy flak batteries on the walls and Galleons propelled the heavy projectiles towards the crippled Squids, their crews gazing in horror at the brilliant projectiles traveling lazily towards their immobile vessels, helpless.
The air was littered with shattered wood and metal. Yet still there were too many. The mercuries if all three ships were firing as fast as they could be reloaded. The last group of Squids would be within the Flak-Line soon.
The Baronies fleet had not been idle. Several answering reports sounded, and The Pointy End rocked, drifting off target. A few of the advancing Squids had managed to find their guns. Plasma glances up to both Mercuries, now smoking piles of ruin.
Damnit!
He flings himself up the ladder, almost flying in his haste, ripping the spanner off his belt and hammering the mercury in front of him with an urgency and aggression causing even his Captain to pause for a moment. And then it was firing again, propelling round after round into the Squids. Flak bursts and burnt powder were filling the air.
The Squids seemed happy to target the wall batteries, giving the Point Wing ample opportunity to aim for their guns and armor while the flak did it's work.
