He made his way to his gun, keeping his M1 on his back in the event they were boarded but from the looks of the approaching ships that seemed to be less and less of a concern. He had a box of ammo loaded already and was waiting for the order to fire he just hoped that the crew on the Salissa would stay out of the way if combat ensued.
There was a moment of relative calm as the group of other vessels closed in unafraid, and eventually they'd get close enough that the men on the deck of the old four-stacker could see that they were manned entirely by creatures that looked similar to the lizard-bird-monsters that they'd met on Menjangan island. These ones, however, all carried short curved swords, shields, and crossbows, and looked even more intimidating if that was even possible. The fire control officer eventually passed orders to Adrian's gun to hold their fire, and to use serious trigger discipline if and when they were cleared to fire, only shooting if and when they had clear shots at a group of targets. When the closest of the enemy vessels had closed to within 500 yards,
Walker's bow 4"/50 roared once and a huge splash erupted in the water just in front of the lead Indiaman, drenching it's occupants and instilling a bit of momentary panic amongst them. They quickly recovered, however, and if anything they only seemed more fanatic and continued to press their attack, shouting and screaming and banging their blades against their shields as they crowded towards the bows of their ships.
"Now hear this!" the captain's voice shouted over the speakers as
Mahan began turning towards the incoming vessels and accelerating to intercept them. "All hands prepare to repel boarders!" This would be the first time since the war of 1812 that a US navy captain would've had to give that order, and Dirk was struck by the strangeness of it even as he said it, and a few of the men from ordinance began passing out rifles and sidearms to everyone on the decks who wasn't already a part of one of the gun crews. At 300 yards, Dirk was about to give the order to fire again when something roughly the size of a medicine ball arced lazily up, high in the air, from amid the gathered lizards. An instant later, a second object rose, and then a third. Everyone in the pilothouse saw them easily with unaided eyes, as did those on the deck. The objects reached apogee, tumbling end over end and trailing wisps of smoke as still more rose up and arced towards Mahan, who was quite a bit closer to the Indiamen at this point. Down they came, closer and closer until two of them plummeted into the sea scarcely a dozen yards off
Walker's port beam. On impact with the water, they ruptured and a ball of fire rose skyward as burning fluid of some kind spread flames across the waves. The third was closer, and when the projectile ruptured, burning fuel actually washed up on
Walker's deck just below the number three gun (and Adrian's position).
Dirk lowered his binoculars and looked at those standing nearby. When he spoke, his voice sounded vaguely surprised, but his eyes were suffused with fury. "Did they just throw those balls of fire at
us?" For just the slightest moment, he reflected upon the consequences and ramifications of his next act, but the decision came without and apparent hesitation, especially when, at about the same time, at least one of the fire bombs broke directly upon Mahan's deck amidships, and the screams of the men caught in the fire could be heard from there for a moment before all four of
Mahan's main cannons barked in retaliation. Dirk stepped briskly to Mr. Reynolds, took the headset from him, and spoke directly into the microphone.
"Mr. Garret, this is the captain. Commence firing, light the fuckers up."
