Dreadnought

The transport airship made it to Dover by late afternoon.

Erik had made conversation with his former classmate in the meantime. Roger was an interesting fellow. Born in the Unified States, he had come to England after his father had found work in the steam industry. Indeed, many immigrants were coming to the British Isles as the British Empire demonstrated its steam tech prowess around the world.

Imperialism was demonstrating its effects; the European powers spread their ideologies all across their African and South Asian colonies. Of course, however, the Eastern Asian powers of China, Korea, and Japan were not colonies, but powerful allies to their respective European counterparts.

Officially, all Asian powers were neutral in European affairs. But most of the world understood that only the Chinese Kingdom was truly neutral, even with their powerful magic-stone techniques. The Kingdom of Korea had always had a positive relationship with the Allies, especially with the Empire of Britain after the empire's involvement in the Second Imjin War. On the other hand, after the Allied power of Russia had lost Russo-Japanese War, the Empire of Japan was seen as an dangerous and ambitious threat to the Allies, proficient in both magic-stone and steam-powered technologies.

As Eric stepped off the gas-filled transport, he could see multiple groups of soldiers around the military base, marching around quickly, as if distressed by something. Eric and Roger were given directions toward a platoon's living quarters, where they would be issued equipment and given basic training.

"What the he*l's going on here?" Roger asked the officer that was giving the newly enlisted men directions.

"You didn't hear on the transport?"

"The Archduke of Austria-Hungary was killed earlier today. Shot by a Serbian man."

Eric's surprise couldn't be hidden. After all, it was common knowledge that the Archduke believed in giving the Slavic people a third crown for the empire. Although an ardent believer in monarchy and supporter in the idea that German-speaking people should maintain most of the power, the Archduke was probably the biggest hope for peace between Serbia and the Austria-Hungary Empire.

"Well, it looks like war really is going to erupt this year," Eric remarked at the news.

"Better get on a behemoth soon, or I might really die."

"Yeah, you got that right. I didn't join the Air Navy to just die on some escort or fighter plane," Roger answered.

The two and their other fellows headed over to the directed quarters where they met with their new platoon-sergeant.

The sergeant was a man of average height with blond hair and a friendly face. His chest was decorated with a collection of shiny medals, a few of which Erik could even recognize.

"Good day to you, recruits."

"I'm sure you've all heard about the recent incident, but don't worry. You lot won't be dying anytime soon."

"Well, of course. We haven't even started basic training which would take at least a few months, and surely, the powers of Europe would try to mend relations as soon as possible... right?" Erik wondered.

"Now, the man over there by the desk will check you all in and tell you where you all will be living for the next 3 weeks."

Erik was confused. The enlisted men would likely be carefully organized into around 3 or 4 squads and sent to varying areas, depending on their marks in basic training. This was explained back in the military's visits to his school.

Yet, the sergeant just said that they would be living there for a mere 3 weeks? A young man cleared his throat to talk to the suddenly grinning officer.

"Er. Um, sir. Will we be having basic training in some other other location as well?"

The blond man just kept grinning.

"Congratulations men. A new kind of basic training will be given to you new recruits. How jealous I am. In only three weeks, you lads will be the elite new generation of soldiers for Britain. Dismissed."

The man never took off his uneasy smile and walked away from the now very much distressed men.

First Day of Basic Training

Erik was issued a standard bolt-action, magazine fed, repeating rifle simply known as the British Enfield and the newest Mark V revolver. The group had a strict schedule, waking up at 0530 hours exactly unless they wanted to run 50 laps around the camp during their lunch period.... which was a meager 30 minutes.

From dusk til dawn (lights out was right at 2100 hours), they repeated a rotating schedule of daily obstacle courses, live-fire practice sessions, maintenance instruction, physical combat tests, disciplinary assessments, and a flurry of mentally stressing situations and puzzles involving tactical and critical thinking. The group was stretched to the very limits of their physical and mental abilities.

"Geez, Erik. No wonder you always placed at the top in the class. Only thing I've got going for me is my physical combat scores."

The first week's reports came in. Organized by placement, Erik was almost completely average all across the board, If anything, he had slightly below average placements in his live-fire and combat tests. However, the name at the top of the list in the critical and tactical thinking ability tests was indeed Erik Thomas.

"Hmm."

Erik didn't care much for it, just like everything else, but a continuation of this could lead to him being placed in a higher position than the standard private, perhaps even onto a low officer position. He may have never attended a military academy, but it would hardly matter if he showed merit in an officer position.

"Might as well keep it up. If I want to get on a Dreadnought..."

As a matter of fact, Erik had never seen a Dreadnought-class Behemoth. Based upon the newer British post-Destroyer airships, also known as the new "Battle Cruiser" type, the Dreadnought behemoths of Britain were described as "a mass of steam and iron, so impossibly large that one could hardly believe that it could still fly" according to the London Times.

Apparently, it was so utterly large that no camera had a wide enough angle to capture it. Of course, this was propaganda as any photography of the behemoths of Europe were always denied or destroyed if found. Only three Dreadnoughts were ever made, and all three were still in service.

After the early Empire of Germany created the first airships, which were little more than the present transport airships with gas filled interiors to lift the craft up, steam industrialization in the air spread across Europe. The Empire of Britain, leading in their own craft of steam power, lifted their very Navy from the seas, eliminating the need for clumsy gas-filled balloons and creating the first military-class airships. The rest of Europe followed, but Britain still had an edge, developing their behemoths to be so-called fortresses of steam-powered iron in the air.

The second week of training was even more vigorous. The commanding sergeants pushed the poor recruits' minds and bodies off their edges and into the hole that followed. At this point, the period of rest during the Sabbath was the only relief in the lads' training.

Erik was raised as a man of the Church and went to mass like every other "good British fellow". The Church was also a pushing effect for war. Those who embraced magic-powered technologies called them "gifts of god," and the ones who didn't called the others heretics. In any case, the Church was also split in half, just like the rest of Europe.

Finally, the third week of training had concluded. Surprisingly, only a few of the recruits had actually dropped out, perhaps because barely anyone understood how to even quit. The sergeant that had greeted them three weeks prior had come to see them again.

"So, now that you lads have finished the easy bit," the group muttered under their breath and rolled their eyes at this remark, "it's time for you lot to join the Air Navy and help us in the war effort."

The Austria-Hungary Empire had promptly declared war on the Serbians after issuing a purely decorative, oppressive ultimatum that the Serbians then instantly rejected. Russia had quickly followed, declaring that it would protect its ally of Serbia. The Empire of Germany then swiftly entered the war. Not even three weeks after the assassination of the Archduke, the Allies and the newly formed "Central Powers" were at war.

Erik Thomas had received favorable reports and a recommendation for an officer position by the tactical ability instructor and analyst. Hence, it was decided that Erik would be made a platoon-sergeant and be stationed on...

"Congratulations, Mr. Thomas. You're stationed on a Destroyer-class airship accompanying the third Dreadnought behemoth of Britain."

The platoon manager gave a salute at his now superior officer.

"Thank you." Erik picked up his new uniform and identification.

"So, I ended up right next to the Dreadnought but not actually on it."

Erik was deeply conflicted.

"Would mortality rates between being on a Dreadnought or next to one be any different?"

In any case, Erik was ordered to stay in Dover until the Dreadnought finished its maintenance in the major aerial port city of Southampton. Roger was to be stationed on a smaller Cruiser-class airship escort in the Naval blockades.

"Agh, da*m. It looks like I won't be seeing any Jerrys (this name was getting more popular around the camp) anytime soon. I'll make sure to see you again so make sure to shoot some of them for me, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll get some of them for you."

Erik didn't think it would be too hard. After all, he was the genius who was the only man of the group to get an officer's position after the training.

After saying his goodbyes to his friend?, accomplice?, Erik had spent the few days waiting for the behemoth to arrive to listen to the radio and follow the war's status.

"GERMAN SOLDIERS AND ARMOR INSTANTLY ATTACK BELGIUM BORDERS. BELGIUM FORCES ARE PUSHED BACK QUICKLY BUT FIERCELY PUT UP A DEFENSIVE AS THEY AWAIT ALLIED SUPPORT."

"The poor Belgians. All because France was behind the neutral country, they would be invaded by a foreign power..."

"Whoooheeeeeeeeee"

The high-pitched steam whistles in the camp were going off, Erik could hear men yelling outside his quarters. Erik turned off the radio and headed outside to see what the commotion was.

"It's here!"

"What the he*l is that?!"

"Those Fritz don't stand a chance."

Erik looked up into the sky to see what the other men were gawking at. No, he looked at what he thought was the sky and quickly realized that he was seeing something huge. Something wide enough to cover up all the blue in the sky. Something wide enough to cover up the sunlight that kept them warm. Something that could not be perceived as a weapon until one looked at the many dozens of 30cm and 20cm gun pieces that protruded from the gray mass of steel and iron. An escort Destroyer airship was on either side of the thing, but they were dwarfed in comparison.

Erik was looking at the third made British Dreadnought behemoth in existence. He was looking at the very might of the British Empire itself.

As Erik wondered whether such a marvelous creature could really move, much less fly through the skies of this Earth,

Marie Hagesawa and her platoons were in German occupied Belgian territory. And she was currently one of the other most dangerous things in the world: an irritated woman.