Hello Steam Warriors,

We're into our final days, and I've got one more sneak peek before our final manuscript section drops tomorrow. All backers will be able to read the entire draft manuscript for Trinity Continuum: Steam Warriors before any pledges are processed or payments collected.

Today, we're going BIG with a trio of war rigs from the Storyguide chapter. Descriptions of famous rigs are provided to help build your world and provide additional lore.

The following rigs are among the most legendary in the Second Steam War. Many are still in service, and liable to face off against the player crew in the field.

In 1897 the goliath class was the Jim Corbett of fighting rigs, which was to say the current heavyweight champion. Pound for pound it was the top of the line, the state of the art, in steam warfare; 90-feet high, 620 tons of steel, hefting one ten-pounder at the chest and three Maxim machine guns (one on the headcab, two at the epaulets). 

The Illinois was shiny spanking new at the outset of the Second Steam War. But its inaugural run turned out to be a trial by fire no one saw coming. They were assigned escort duty, babysitting a trainload of condensed coal fresh off the plant, with a pair of 46-foot ajax rigs taking the point. To the Illinois commander, spit-and-polish Major Franklin Pearson, this was a cakewalk and not the action he desperately sought. He had his gunner Bill Tunney put the green crew through the paces, but the latter had his doubts about them, including young pilot Webber, and he was typically hard on them. 

The enemy’s strong desire for condensed coal became obvious when the Americans were flank-ambushed by a KPD goliath class rig (aka siegfried class), with a massive 8,700 ton Prussian coal tender, or königskohletender, in tow, ready to upload and process the spoils. Because of Major Pearson’s misjudgment (which Tunney had tried to correct), the ajax escorts were taken out quickly and efficiently by Hauptmann Wilhelm Kreiber’s crack gunners. The Prussians had them cold. 

When Pearson was wounded it may have been a blessing, as Gunnery Sergeant Tunney took command and called an unheard-of “abandon rig.” He further went against protocol and organized an all-out guerilla assault on the coal tender. The königskohletender was just vulnerable enough to be taken, and, in a further audacious move, Tunney directed the two-hundred-foot-plus monster towards the goliath rig, even as he and his men fended off Prussian marines. 

Amazingly, Kreiber surrendered before certain disaster could occur. Pearson showed his gratitude by throwing Tunney in the brig, despite the gunny winning the day. Some of the crew were commended, however, including a Black American stoker named Combs who proved a capable fighting man. It did not, unfortunately, break the color barrier, and his dream of promotion to gunner was once again on hold. 

Major Pearson returned to the navy as Captain Pearson once again; like many other officer transplants, a fish-out-of-water in the experiment that was the Steam Force.

One would expect that the smallest of steam rigs would have gone through the most painless of evolutions. One would be wrong. These walking coal-barrels tripped up more times than one could imagine. Perhaps because their raison d’être was nothing if not speed. Another brainchild of John Chandler Tillencrest, the runabout carried a pilot (or pilot and gunner), a water-cooled machine gun, and that was pretty much it. Even with condensed coal it required frequent refueling. Which is why Tillencrest’s American “barrelback” version was at least a move in the right direction, and achieving balance with that extra fuel heft was no mean feat. 

The trial and error was evidently worth it, as the barrelback runabout was the most successful of these two- sometimes three-legged spitfires, more so than the bulkier Prussian dampfläufer. Both versions, and most other runabouts, benefitted from the “pistonation” method of leg action, employing a piston-like action that allowed greater speed and maneuverability, particularly on sharp turns. At its best, the R47 could run rings around larger rigs, deliver fast reconnaissance and slow an enemy advance with hit-and-run tactics. It was also capable of more covert work, as long as its engine was masked by other sounds, such as other rigs, factories or work-machines. It should be noted, runabout service was not for those wary of dark cramped spaces. 

The USSF barrelback R47, launched in 1894, was 14-feet high, 6-feet wide and 8 tons. It had a top hatch but no gunports, with the mounted .30 caliber Maxim machine gun on a swivel that allowed it to swing out, and swing in, as need be. As of yet, only the larger dampfläufer has a driver porthole.

Some steam rigs aged well, some didn’t. A lot of things factored into this. Manufacturer, materials, design and just plain dumb luck, depending on how much abuse they took. No question, the Van Buren looked old before its time. It hadn’t seen all that much action by 1897 when it found itself with a mostly green crew, up against an unmarked rig that turned out to be manned by Norwegian mercenaries (possibly associated with the network of notorious Danish renegade Kaptajn Korgaard). 

The enemy rig was in the great helm style, somewhere between hercules and goliath class, with twin ten-pounders at the chest, but no fixed rapid-firing weapons. As for looks, it appeared even worse for wear than the Van Buren. But this could be deceptive, as mercenaries were known to scar and weather their own machines to appear less threatening. In truth, they employed some of the best rig engineers on those tough-as-nails rebuilds. The Van Buren won what turned out be a textbook example of a tit-for-tat steam duel. 

But the thing to take away here was how they won. It involved no expertise on Capt. Amos Swanson’s part. As we see time and time again, the USSF commanding officers were not always up to the task. The fledgling force had largely poached brass from the US Navy, US Army and US Cavalry, assuming their ability to command would carry over. Steam rigs were a different animal, calling for a different method of thinking. In the case of this battle it was the actions of Gunnery Sergeant Tunney, Pilot Bascom, and novice Port Cranesman Cribbs, going against the grain (and orders) that saved the day. Not that Capt. Swanson didn’t take the credit for it. Neither did he press charges for disobedience. He knew better. And, to be fair, the officer’s previous cavalry record was flawless. 

All part of the painful learning curve of what (in 1897) was a new kind of animal.