Stewart Airship Co

Chapter 1: The Telegram

Chapter 1: The Telegram

Kingston Stewart stared at the yellow telegram paper in his hands, reading the words for the fourth time as if they might somehow change. The late afternoon sun streaming through his office window caught the gold lettering of Stewart Airship Co. emblazoned on the glass, casting dancing shadows across his desk filled with technical journals and preliminary sketches.

“Well?” Lee Collins leaned forward in his chair, his weathered foreman's hands gripping the armrests. “What's it say, King?” Twenty years of building airships had left Lee's fingers permanently laced with engine grease, a badge of honor in their line of work.

Before Kingston could respond, the office door burst open. Henry Tanaka rushed in, his wire-rimmed spectacles slightly askew, with Peggy right behind him. Both were still wearing their work aprons, streaked with the telltale aluminum dust from the design floor. Henry clutched a sheaf of calculations he'd been working on when the messenger arrived.

“We saw the messenger,” Peggy said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Is it about the military contract?”

Kingston nodded slowly, finally looking up from the paper. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have six months to build something that's never been built before: an armed and armored military airship. The specifications...” He paused, scanning the telegram again. “They want it to eventually support multiple naval guns. The prototype needs to demonstrate successful firing of at least one cannon while maintaining position as much as possible.”

The room fell silent. Lee let out a low whistle.

“Six months?” Henry shook his head, his fingers nervously shuffling through his calculations. “Superior Aviation has twice our workforce. Stanton Industrial probably started months ago, and Hamilton & Sons...” He trailed off, adjusting his glasses.

“Have the deepest pockets in the industry,” Kingston finished. “I know. But we also have something they don't.” He stood up, walking to the large drafting table that dominated one wall of his office. “We have the best minds in the business and twenty five families depending on us to pull this off.”

Peggy moved to the drafting table, her eyes already scanning the preliminary sketches they'd been working on since rumors of the military contract first surfaced. “The recoil is our biggest immediate challenge. A standard naval gun produces enough force to push an entire airship backward. Multiple guns firing...” She grabbed a pencil and began rapid calculations in the margin. “The structural stress alone would tear a traditional frame apart.”

“And that's assuming the ship could even stay in position,” Henry added, spreading his papers across the table. “Traditional propeller systems can't react fast enough to counter multiple recoil forces. Every shot would send the ship bobbing like a cork in the ocean.”

Lee stood and joined them at the table. “Not to mention the weight. Naval gun mounts are designed for battleships. Even our lightest alloys couldn't support more than one or two using traditional mounting systems.”

“That's why we need to rethink everything,” Henry said, his voice taking on the excited tone it always did when he was working through a technical problem. “I've been corresponding with some colleagues at the Emerald City Institute of Technology. Their ionic plasma thrusters could be the answer.”

He pulled out a detailed sketch of the thruster system. “Look here—they generate thrust through ionized plasmatic channels. No moving parts, instant directional control, and most importantly, they can react fast enough to counter recoil forces in real-time. We simply need to force feed enough molecules to ionize.”

“Plasma thrusters?” Lee frowned. “Never been done like this before. The power requirements alone...”

“Would be substantial,” Henry agreed. “But they'd give us something crucial: auto-controlled thrust vectoring. We could set up the thruster automation to anticipate and counter each gun's recoil instantly. Multiple guns firing wouldn't be just possible; they'd be practical.”

Peggy was already sketching, her pencil flying across the paper. “If we use plasma thrusters, we could redistribute the weight savings into additional armor here and here.” She pointed to several key structural points. “We'd need to redesign the entire frame to distribute recoil forces across the whole structure rather than just at the gun mounts.”

She drew a series of interlocking hexagonal supports. “Something like this – a cellular framework that treats the whole ship as one integrated weapons platform. Each section would help absorb and distribute the shock of firing.”

Kingston studied the emerging design. “How many guns could a frame like this support?”

Peggy made some quick calculations. “With traditional materials? Maybe four. But if we could get our hands on some of that new unstainium alloy they're developing..." She smiled. “Dozens.”

“The military will love that,” Lee said. “But building it...” He ran a hand through his gray hair. “We'd need to develop entirely new manufacturing techniques. Can't weld unstainium like aluminum. We'd need new tools, new training for the crews.”

“And new funding,” Kingston added grimly. “This isn't going to be cheap.”

Henry straightened his glasses. “There's another advantage to the plasma thrusters – they're completely silent. Imagine a heavily armed airship that can approach without the sound of propellers giving it away.”

Kingston looked around at his team—the best in the business, regardless of what the industry giants might think. Henry's brilliant mind for power systems, Peggy's unmatched structural expertise, Lee's practical genius for making the impossible possible. They were David facing not one Goliath, but three.

“The telegram says we're to present a fully functioning prototype in exactly six months,” Kingston said. “We'll need funding, materials we've never worked with before, and absolute secrecy.” He met each of their eyes in turn. “I won't lie – this could make or break us. If we fail, Stewart Airship Co. probably won't survive. But if we succeed...”

“We'll revolutionize aerial warfare,” Henry finished.

“And keep America safe,” Peggy added softly, her pencil never stopping its dance across the paper.

Lee cracked his knuckles. “Well then, we better get started. I'll need three shifts of our best men, and we'll need to set up a secure fabrication area. Can't have regular workers seeing what we're building.”

Kingston nodded. “Whatever you need. All our resources go into this.For the next six months, we live and breathe this project. Heaven help us, we're going to build something history has never seen.”

As the sun set over Boston's harbor, casting long shadows through the workshop windows, the team broke into smaller groups. Peggy and Henry huddled over initial design calculations while Lee made lists of needed materials, tools, and skilled workers. Kingston retreated to his office to begin the arduous task of securing more funding.

The race to build America's first military airship had begun, and Stewart Airship Co. was already behind. But as Kingston watched his team work with the focused intensity he'd come to rely on, he allowed himself a small smile. They might not have the most money or the biggest workforce, but they had something better: they had nothing to lose and everything to prove.

The next six months would test them all in ways they couldn't imagine. But for now, in the growing darkness of their Boston workshop, the impossible seemed within reach. On the drafting table, Peggy's preliminary sketch showed the graceful lines of an airship unlike any ever built – a glimpse of the future they hoped to create.