Captain James Nolan's Log, Supplemental
USS Discovery recording
27 days after Rothgard's Fall
Iron screams.
Dragons roar.
The tide turns red.
The drone held its silent vigil high above Blackthorn Harbor as Albion's flagship Ironclad took a concentrated salvo from three Draco ironclads. Its overstrained rune-steam engines finally gave way. A high-pressure boiler deep in the hull ruptured with catastrophic force. The explosion tore outward in a brilliant orange bloom, ripping the vessel in half. Superheated steam and shattered plating erupted skyward, raining debris across the stone quay. Secondary blasts followed as ammunition stores cooked off. The ship listed heavily, burning, and began to sink in a slow, terrible roll. Cheers from the Draco fleet rolled across the water, amplified by mana horns.
In the Shire Base command center, Nolan watched the holotable feeds tighten on the disaster. Jasmine stood rigid beside him, her face pale as the sinking wreck filled the display. A.L.I.'s android avatar remained motionless behind them, green corneas flickering with streaming data.
The battle descended into raw carnage. Albion's forces held the inner perimeter, their layered fortifications absorbing the worst of the initial onslaught. Knights of the Mage Corps charged forward in full enchanted plate, long-bows singing and customized magitech rifles cracking. Will-driven arrows streaked like comets through the air, punching through Draco armor and dropping entire squads. Infantry regiments poured disciplined volleys from rune-etched barricades, holding choke points with grim determination.
But the Draco response became a flood. Massive transport ships—hulking rune-steam behemoths escorted by ironclads—surged into the harbor proper. Their forward ramps crashed down onto the stone quays like iron jaws. Legion after legion poured out in an endless wave: Imperial Iron Legions in heavy partial-plate, Dragon Legions with rune-plated shock troops, and packs of larger dragons flying low to perch instantly on static support machines. The black tide was immediate and overwhelming.
Dragons breathed fire. Lesser dragons, harnessed to gun boats or perched on the carrier's roosts, unleashed controlled jets of raw Aether flame that swept across the outer barricades, turning stone and wood into slag. The single greater dragon on the carrier lifted its head and roared, a sound that rolled like thunder across the water. Every lesser dragon answered in perfect unison, their flames intensifying into a roaring wall of heat and terror.
Ground forces met in brutal close combat. Blades clashed against blades with ringing steel. Cartridge rounds tore through flesh and armor. Albion knights pressed forward, their enchanted weapons flashing in deadly arcs, but the Draco Iron Legions absorbed the punishment, advancing steadily behind rune-plated shields while Dragon Legions hammered forward with heavy melee weapons. Blood slicked the stone as both sides gave and took life in savage exchanges. Screams and the clang of steel rose above the roar of cannon fire.
Nolan's voice cut through the tension. "Albion is still holding the vital choke points, but those transport ships are already filling the harbor." On the drone feed, the scene grew more desperate. Massive transport ships continued to disgorge troops in an endless wave. Dragons breathed fire across the outer defenses. Ground forces clashed in a maelstrom of steel, fire, and blood. Albion's Mage Corps and artillery batteries refused to yield ground, their disciplined volleys cutting down wave after wave. Yet slowly, inexorably, Draco gained momentum. The black tide pushed inward, one bloody yard at a time.
Ironclads pressed closer, tanking hit after hit while lesser dragons fed raw power into every gun. The greater dragon on the carrier issued another harmonic. The lesser dragons answered with fresh fury. The flood surged forward, relentless and terrifying. Nolan watched the feeds, the weight of command settling heavier on his shoulders. The drone continued its silent watch, capturing every explosion, every roar of dragon and rune-steam engine. Shire Base's command center held its breath as the battle for Blackthorn Harbor teetered on the edge of breaking.