The Art of War (oneshot)
Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Battleship or any of its characters (I don't think anybody would want me to), I only own my words.
A/N: This is my interpreting of the scene in Battleship when the Missouri takes out the alien's Mother Ship so you would not understand unless you have seen the movie; I know it's not very good but I was bored and had this idea in my mind. Critiques are encouraged and even haters as I enjoy knowing people's opinions and find Poison Pens funny. Enjoy…
The water splits as the front of the 70-year-old battleship barges through ocean waters. Every member of the merged working unit of the reaming crew members of the John Paul Jones and the USS Missouri is busy throughout the entire body of the ship. Footsteps are heard everywhere as orders are being flung around: gun men are arming, navigators are scouting a vast blue and engine managers are monitoring their last minute adjustments.
Then, the vessel is spotted: lurking like an iceberg, the alien ship appears around the edge of the bay. It is clear the Missouri is locked on, ready to fire at, and seen as a threat. Anxious faces stare at the large hunk of pure misfortune as it rises out the water, and the two figures at the front of the ship almost succumb to the huge wave of anxiety and bias realisation emitted from the ship...almost...
Order: turn the guns the wrong way; direct our ship in a turn that could quite possibly send our situation from bad to worse. Has the Commander lost his mind all over again, or is there method in his death-certifying-madness? Slowly, the Missouri makes the turn and the crew feel their nerves breaking. Quick boys! Drop the anchor! The Commander's last order?
We are all going to die…but not today it seems…
The jolt is sudden; whiplash all around as the anchor hits the bottom of the ocean floor...Fire! Gun barrels burst, sparks ignite, smoke riddles the air in spirals, and debris is flung: The Art of War. The men brace for a counter attack, and the enemy obliges - retaliation is obvious. Hurtling fiery objects has become their sport, objects that have intent of destruction. Their aim is good; the targets hit their mark. Anger flares and the men feel a sudden rush of rage that their floating mass of memories is being destroyed, so the lead increases.
Victory! The remnants of the alien ship bob through the waves as fire engulfs metal. However, the crew's original mission is not yet accomplished. The men scurry through the passages of the ship carrying a weight with an enormous caliber upon their shoulders. With much effort, the gun is locked and loaded, ready to fire at the given target, but shocked faces return at the sight before them: the aliens have not yet given up their attempt to destroy their conquerors. Slowly the men's faces soften to unfair realisation and the command is given to send their package toward the infested mountain.
The Commander allows his men their small indulgence of victory as the bomb hits, and he stares straight at the oncoming destruction…What's this? It never hits its directed target. A surprise defense has saved them, literally sent from above: the Air Force is here. As unexpected as they arrive, the Metal Angels leave, and the crew celebrates their shared triumph.
Lives were lost, friends were gained; the earth is safe and a silent warning is made: if you want domination of the planet we call home, whether you are or aren't from Earth, you'll have the USA Navy to deal with, and a 70 year old Battleship: The USS Missouri.