The call went out. A new frigate was launching, and it was being lead by none other than the famed Captain Drake. Who better to Captain a vessel designed to kill monsters, than one who had killed a monster themselves? The Frigate, named simply, The Drake, was newly commissioned, and it was so new that the barrels of its guns hadn't even yet turned black from the explosions of gunpowder. Rumor was that there were weapons that didn't need powder in development, but rumors were rumors. Rumor had it that each city was actually flying on the back of a giant turtle, and that human ingenuity had nothing to do with it.

People still had their imaginations intact at least. But perhaps the name of the ship seemed a little much... but honestly, Drake didn't name it. It seemed the Admiral who commissioned the ship in the first place wanted a Drake captained by a Drake.

The name didn't matter, what mattered was whether or not it could do its job.

Sahara was on board the ship giving it a look over. It wasn't much, below deck had just enough room for a day's supplies, ammunition and powder, and the boiler and coal supply it required. Above deck, it was little more than two guns big enough to take down something fairly big, but not professional warship weaponry by the standards of the war that had awoken the monsters in the first place. They would do their job...

All she had to do was wait for her crew to arrive. She hadn't chosen them personally, another thing the Admiralty had done, so she didn't even know what was coming. She was told that her crew would consist of herself, a Helmsman, two engineers, and two gunners. This was already pushing the limits of the available room on the ship, but they would have to make it work. She could take the helm if needed, and surely they only needed one engineer. Two gunners for two guns sure but, either way they would have to make it work.

They had to make this work. This was a test, for all of humanity. All of the Frigates that had been built lately hadn't had much success, either destroyed, or no luck finding targets to hunt in the first place. But they would be the first. They had to... if they ever wanted a chance at taking back the surface.

Étienne Baptiste Richard had hung around Baltimore long enough. It was time to get to work. He had all his possessions packed up in a tubular shaped white canvas bag, roughly four foot in length and two feet in diameter. He heaved the thirty-pound sack onto his shoulder and strolled the docks looking for his ship. There were much larger vessels tied up to peers, but somehow, he knew they were not what he was looking for.

Walking the docks caused memories from his time spent in Montreal to come flooding back. He worked the docks for more than a few years before he went to sea. ‘Sea’ the thought made him laugh. No one sailed the seas any longer. Today, they sailed the heavens, the skies or the airways. Gusts of winds caressed these decks, no longer the lapping of waves.

The ship was smaller than any he had flown aboard. Most of his time was spent aboard cargo ships, but even the few combat vessels he’d worked on were much larger than this one. This was more a patrol boat than an actual Frigate, but that was her designation, so Frigate she would be—The Drake.

Étienne walked up the gang plank toward the deck spying his new Captain, a real fire breather this one was with her wild red hair and flamboyant attire. ‘Going to be a fun cruise,’ Étienne thought to himself. He stepped aboard with his sea bag flipping off his shoulder and to the deck at his feet. The six-foot two-inch Frenchman of African descent snapped off a professional salute, “Étienne Richard, reporting for duty, ma’am.” His accent was decidedly French. Once the appropriate salute was returned, he lowered his arm. “I am trained in the use of your deck guns, ma’am—among other things.” He didn’t want to say too much as this was his first meeting with the ship’s captain. He was prepared to store his gear and begin to inspect his new duty station. Étienne was excited about this assignment and prepared for a deployment.

Jillian hugged her parents and her siblings thightly. No one had spoken about the difficulties that lied ahead but they all were aware of the possible dangers on board a frigate that was going to be hunting for monsters. Warm goodbyes and farewells had been exchaged when Jillian picked up her brown duffel bag and hung it over her shoulder. As she walked out she read the information again she had received. "The ship is called The Drake and the Captain is Sahara Drake." She said half out loud. Jillian picked up her pace she didn't want to be late on her first day and make a bad first impression.

When she arrived on the docks she started looking out for the ship she was enlisted on. Jillian didn't bother trying to read the names of the big ones. Scanning the ships she noticed a couple of frigates and she went by them one by one till she found the right one. The Drake. Jill stopped for a moment to examine the Frigate. She could tell it wouldn't fit a whole lot of people and with supplies space would be scarce but it had a balloon and a solid body so it could fly and right now that was all she cared about. A spark of joy appeared in her sea green eyes, forgetting all the dangers that might lie ahead for a moment.

Jillian stroked a few hairs that had escaped the braid because of the wind behind her ears and walked on board. She saw two people on board. One male and one female. The male had a big bag so she asumed he was one of the crew aswell. Her eyes rested on the captain for a moment instantly felt the authority radiating from her. Jill was impressed by the female captain and would sure find a great role model in her. "Jillian Bosson, engineer. Reporting for duty Captain." she said as she stood straight and saluted. At least she hoped she did it right. Her experience on vessel like this being directly under a Captain in the fleet was very limited. Her skills, working spirit and her fighting spirit were hopefully enough to forgive honest mistakes she possibly would make.

It had been made clear to Saharah that the people chosen for her crew had not been chosen for their history within the navy, but rather the skills that made them worthy of the missions they were setting out on. On one hand that brought her this Gunner who seemed far more suited for the job than he probably let on, or at least, for service onboard a ship. On the other hand, it brought her someone like this Helmsman, who clearly had little to no experience in the military, but was instead chosen for his skill at the helm. She would need to set some things straight.

"As everyone is present, let me make this clear. Firstly, this is a Naval vessel. I understand some of us have prior experience with military training, and some of us do not. So let's not leave any doubt. This ship will opperate as a Military vessel. Regardless of your experience, or lack thereof in such an environment, you will act accordingly. You are to address me as ma'am, or Captain. You are to salute when you address your superiors and you will show the proper respect for the chain of Command."

She took a long deep breath, hands planted on her hips. "That being said, you all were chosen by the Admiralty to be a part of this crew regardless of prior experience due to your skills that make you suitable for what we intend to do. I have no doubt a time will come that we'll be rather happy to have a Helmsman who can throw out procedure and act on instinct. But until that time comes, we will be running this ship as it was intended to be, a Military vessel. No matter how small it may seem, this is what is needed to out maneuver the beasts in the sky."

With another breath she turned on her heels and walked to the other side of the ship. It wasn't very far... "Today is a test flight. We are heading out to hunt some Devil Vulture that have been seen breaking the clouds not too far from the city. Assuming we can prove successful in hunting something like that, we can look forward to hunting more dangerous creatures."

That seemed about it for briefing, and so she turned to look at the other three gathered, the crew her life, and of course their own all rested in. "Well, enough talk. Let's get out there and kill us some Devil Vulture. Drop your things below and prep the ship for launch. We leave in ten minutes. You have that time and the proceeding flight to familiarize yourselves with your stations. Get to it!"

Jillian could barely surpress as squeak as Jaroslav Moravec came on board. The Blazer was on this vessel, THE BLAZER! was part of the crew! Jill took every bit of self control she possessed to keep her from going all fan-girl over him. She was determined to make a good impression and she asumed the Captain wouldn't particulary like it if she had a engineer fawning all over the new helmsman. No she had to keep her cool. She couldn't mask the slight blush that creeped up nor hide the sparkle in her eyes but she hoped both the Captain and Jaro would see it as enthousiasm for the mission and not being impressed by the helmsman.

Jillian brought her focus back to captain Saharah when she started talking. Jill nodded a few times in acknowledge what was said. She had thought they would start a militairy routine, it was an official militairy vessel afterall small as it was, and Jillian didn't think it would be much of a problem for her. She felt honoured that she was chosen and was eager to start. She hoped she could live up to the expectations and military life.

When the Captain was done with the debriefing she picked up her duffel bag. "Yes Ma'am!" Jill said as she heeded to the Captain's order after a salute. She went down below and put her duffel bag on the starboard side not far from the stern. She put on her toolbelt and went back to the deck and went to go over a checklist to make sure everything was well attached and nothing would snap or fall apart when departing. Next she went to check boiler to see if it was working properly. Jillian glanced at the the time. Ten minutes wasn't alot but the quick checkup was done before the time was up. "All systems check!" She hadn't expected anything wrong, it was a new vessel afterall but better be safe then sorry. Especially when floating in the air on a big ballon with nothing between the clouds and the Earth to keep them from falling down

Étienne listened to the Captain’s speech about the ship, its position in the navy and its sea trials. He was interested in getting underway and quick to respond with a professional, “Aye, Captain!” When she was complete. He noted the rest of the crew appeared to be young and green. He hoped that would not be too much of a problem. It is not that he disliked working with younger sailors, he knew they required training just as anyone of their age would, it was just that he knew there was always a certain level of arrogance accompanying youth. He could forgo that. Hopefully, they shared his professionalism.

When the Captain dismissed the crew, he strode to the number one gun to check it out. The turret was located on the prow, allowing the gunner to engage targets to the front, both 45 degrees below the attitude of the ship and thirty degrees above the attitude of the ship without hitting the structure of the balloon, that kept them aloft. The turret could traverse a full 360 degrees when level, but he knew not to fire into the deck of the boat. That would be very bad. Étienne left his sea bag outside the turret, opening the tight hatch to view the interior.

On the left side of the breech, he found the gunner’s seat and weapons controls. The seat was equipped with a five-point harness, keeping the gunner strapped in, due to the depression and elevation levels of the weapon. The cannon was equipped with a hyrdo-pneumatic automatic loader that kept a constant supply of rounds fed from below deck into the chamber of the weapon. It operated on a series of gears and chains. The standard munition was a 47mm x 360mmR 3.3 pound shell. The QF 3-pounder Dubois could fire twenty rounds per minute, or one round ever three seconds. Its muzzle velocity was at 785 meters per second, firing High Explosive (HE) Ammunition. It also had Armor Piercing (AP) ammunition available when needed. The effective range of the QF-3 was just over 1800 meters but could reach targets out to 5100 meters. The weapon had a telescopic sighting system allowing the gunner to find targets out to its maximum range.

Étienne was pleased with the weapon system and was familiar with its use from a previous assignment. He felt comfortable enough to head below deck and stow his gear. He was happy with this assignment even if some of the crew were young and inexperienced.