We Swore an Oath

by Garth of Izard

In the fifth year of the Abyssal War, the allied U.S. and British fleets create a Combined Task Force to seek out and destroy the Abyssals. Getting the task force to cooperate will be a more difficult task than anyone realized, however, and a new form of Abyssal threatens to doom the U.S. Navy forever.

Chapter 1: Cleveland

Bridge, USS Winston S. Churchill, the North Atlantic

January 5th, 2021

Captain Alex Simonds, United States Navy, was having a very bad day. "Three more Abyssal destroyers inbound to starboard! Range- two-point-five kilometers!" The sensor chief, Senior Chief Petty Officer James McClintock, called out. "Engage with the five-incher!" Simonds ordered in reply.

He would have ordered his tactical officer to engage with the Harpoon anti-ship missiles the Churchill carried, but the Abyssal destroyers were damnably small radar targets, and not even the extremely sensitive radars carried by the Arleigh Burke-class of destroyers could lock up the destroyers for missile fire.

The small, sharklike abyssal craft came speeding in off the Churchill's starboard beam, and the single 5-inch/62-caliber gun mounted in the destroyer's bow turret spouted armor-piercing rounds in gouts of flame. With laser-guided precision, the Mk 45 gun spouted an incredible round every three seconds. The female gunnery rating operating the 5-incher espoused a simple philosophy she had read in a webcomic- "there is no overkill," and the first nine 5-inch rounds out of the gun all targeted the same destroyer.

Seven of the nine shots hit, with the other two bracketing the wildly maneuvering Abyssal craft. The enemy destroyer sprouted smoke from several different areas, then came apart in a yellow-orange ball of flame that sent pieces of the craft arcing into the sky as her secondary magazines detonated. As the gun swiveled smoothly around to engage the next target, the Abyssal destroyers entered their own weapons range and opened fire

Their 5-inch guns were far cruder, with a lower rate of fire, but the Churchill was practically unarmored, and their rounds struck with devastating effect. There was no doubt the Abyssals knew where to aim, and one round detonated near the after VLS missile cells while the other detonated practically on top of the 5-inch gun. The Churchill bucked like a raging animal, and the mammoth concussion threw almost everyone off his or her feet- except Simonds. An old sea dog, the 40-year-old captain remained standing with his hands clasped firmly behind him.

"Damage report!" Simonds called out. The damage control chief, Petty Officer Matthew Harrison, struggled back to his feet.

"That was a close one, sir. A few degrees to the left, and that shell would have struck and detonated the VLS missiles. But- we've lost our main gun. No chance of getting it repaired any time soon." Harrison gestured out the bridge window to what had been the Mk 45 gun. Where the Churchill's only effective weapon once stood, there was now only a smoking wreck, with parts twisting crazily towards the sky. Well, I guess I have no other option.

"All hands, abandon ship. I will stay behind and man the bushmasters to give the lifeboats a chance of getting away."

"Sir?" His XO, Commander Helen MacDonald, seemed on the verge of disobeying his orders. Couldn't have that.

"Commander MacDonald, that is an ORDER! We just lost our single effective weapon; now get everyone off. I know how to work a Bushmaster as well as-probably better than-anyone on this ship. Now go! Keep the crew safe!"

MacDonald swallowed, her finely sculpted features full of dismay. She turned into the intercom. "This is the XO. All hands, abandon ship via the lifeboats. I repeat, all hands abandon ship via the lifeboats." Throughout the Churchill, sailors began moving towards the lifeboats.

The Navy called the evacuation methods 'controlled chaos', and that was the perfect descriptor for the situation. Crewmembers were racing for the lifeboats at full tilt, but there were few to no collisions as the evacuation routes were perfectly planned out. Simonds glared at his bridge crew. "Everyone-go!"

Petty Officer McClintock, however, had been oblivious to the drama going on around him. "Sir," he called out, "I'm picking up another target. I think-I think it's a shipgirl, sir. Judging by the outfit, it looks like a light cruiser."

Simonds called out, "Belay that abandon order!" As MacDonald swung into action, Simonds looked out the bridge window. Sure enough, a young woman was standing there. She was about 5' 8", had long hair, and was dressed in a U.S. Navy dress uniform.

"U.S.S. Cleveland, engaging!" She called out over the radio as she fired a volley from her twelve six-inch guns into one of the Abyssal destroyers. At the same time, she cut loose with her five-inch secondaries at the second Abyssal. The first Abyssal ship simply came apart as eight six-inch shells slammed into it at point-blank range like the hammer of Thor, shedding pieces all across the ocean. The five-inch guns were less accurate, and only four rounds out of eight hit. 'Only' four five-inch rounds. Those four were enough, and the abyssal sprouted smoke and then exploded just like the one hit by the Churchill's gun.

"Bring it, bitches!" Cleveland screamed, a blatant challenge to any further foes. Wisely, no Abyssals answered the challenge. "Umm… Cleveland?" Simonds called out over the radio. "Would you mind escorting us back to Newport News? We're kind of without any useful offensive firepower here, and there might be more Abyssals around."

"Can do! While we're at it, can you please explain what is going on here? Those guys- the Abyssals, I think you called them- what are they?"

"No one really knows what they are, but I'll fill you in on what you we do know. But for now- welcome back to the navy."

Chapter 1 Fin