Steampunk Wenesday

I almost feel like i've cheated this story, since it hasn't gotten nearly the amount of press it should considering I absolutely love the world it's set in.

Sky Pirates of the CSA


After counting his losses and being escorted back to his compartment while mostly pretending to be drunk Edward sent part of his mind out into the tranciever grafted into his skull. It didn't matter that he was surrounded by orderlies trying to figure the best way to rearrange his compartment to accomidate his unusual size. Even the on-duty radio-man wouldn't have known anything was off about Edward as the link to his shuttle ran at a far different frequency than ship communications. Recieving information wasn't going to be a problem, which is what he intended to do at the moment. Were he so inclined getting a transmission out would've been problimatic since he would need to interface with a proper radio to get a strong enough signal out. Right now that wasn't an issue, but one never knew.

Normal people sleep. Edward wasn't normal so didn't. His body might doze, but his mind lay at least partially active so it could process the link's information. It gave him everything from his current speed, location, weather predictions for the entire continent with a 12% margin of error. He wasn't happy with that, but without adding a link to Mars or possibly Venus if they could spare a moment or three from terraforming to help he had to make do with his shuttle's predictive models. Close enough for my needs even if not as spot-on as I like. His body showed no signs of amusement.Beats a, he checked the reletive positions of both planets, two hour wait on a simple model. Dio I'm bored. How do these people survive without networks?

He snorted and looked at the small slice of window that wasn't obscured by curtains. Not knowing what you're living without helps. He did have to admit it was a nice view, even if he wasn't entirely at ease with the notion of more than a handful of days like this. It was his idea, so with another grunt he pulled up a little light music while he let his awareness drift.

..* * *

let us move elsewhere now, for we have followed Edward quite long enough uninterrupted. We won't be going far, just to the ship's radio room and another Fawkes is unable to rest. HIs reasons, unlike Edward, have less to do with hardware and more about task. While most nights were slow and the craft was not a millitary vassle there still had to be a set of ears listening for anything out of the ordinary. For example the Madam Fortuna was suffering several good sized leaks due to storm damage. Since one can only make a transmitter so powerful and satillites have long since either crashed back to eart hor bee nscoured out of the sky by spacenoid junkers looking for unclaimed scrap. This left the ailing ship with ground based relay stations or other ships to relay their situation and any return traffic on the matter.

Julian did these things through most of the night, and by the time his shift was over the Fortuna had landing clearance and a repair crew waiting. He was grateful that airships tended to crash slow since it gave the crews time to either fix the problem in flight or find a suitable landing place to make repairs. It's also why he'll never fly in anything anything else.

With his shift ended he could have gone to grab a shower, a little food, and rest. He should have done these things but didn't. Instead he switched over to a second radio that had been wedged in the already cramped room to do a little personal radio chatter before leaving. The other officers knew of this hobby and seemed to not mind. Unlike the one used for ship's business it was only able to transmit morse code, and it could only use a couple watts power, but it allowed him to indulge for an hour before taking off to tend to less pleasent matters.
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