Demon Clans of Arnfair & Saurus #6

Ch15: Tsunami

"Events of 1962 indicated, as through all history, that control of the sea means security. Control of the sea can mean peace. Control of the seas can mean victory. The United States must control the seas if it is to protect your security…"

President John F. Kennedy, 6 June 1963, aboard USS Kitty Hawk

New Atlimas – Point Beauregard – Naval Docks

September 30, 2104

11:47:32 hrs

"Copy on Phase Two. Sit tight, we're coming to you."

Winters put the mic down for a moment. He was satisfied with the progress that Neptune had made. Barely two hours had passed since they had gone in, and they were already giving the all-clear to send in reinforcements.

He was expecting it to take longer, as there were bound to be more soldiers stationed at the naval port. In addition to the ten thousand troops garrisoned there, there had to be more support personal and marine units to maintain and fully man the ships.

But it seemed like the team had caused enough of a ruckus already.

Changing frequencies on the mic, Winters spoke over the intercom for the naval facilities. "This is Warlord to all naval forces. Neptune teams are giving the green light for us to go in. you know what to do. Warlord out."

After several moments of tense silence, the ringing alarm of klaxons blared, piercing the silence, followed by a heavy, grating, metallic screech.

The dome in the harbor, as well as its doors, were considerably larger than the Gate in Central Square. While the Central Square Gate was as wide as a twelve-lane highway and tall enough for a C-5M Galaxy, the one in the harbor was large enough to allow a Ford-class supercarrier to pass through unhindered.

It truly was a marvel at the speed and efficiency with which the Navy Seabees were able to erect a containment unit for the passageway, as well as add-on support facilities.

When the large thuds of the doors fully opening resounded, the waiting ships revved up their engines, and the flotillas surged forward.

Leading the group were a group of Mark VII Special Operations Craft. Crewed by a team of MARSOC operatives from 3rd MRB, their craft was a significant upgrade to their successors, constructed from composites and larger in size, allowing for more flexibility.

Following them were dozens of ships of varying classes and sizes from the Ghost Fleet, as well as multiple missile boats.

Missile boats were a relatively new addition for the U.S. Navy's inventory, yet they were proving just as crucial as large surface ships. Taking after the PLAN Type 022 and the Russian Osa-class, the new Seahorse-class was outfitted with retractable hydrofoils, enabling it to ride the waves, or travel like a conventional ship when speed wasn't required. Capable of its weapons being reconfigurable in a variety in positions, well-armed with a variety of torpedoes and missiles, as well as a rapid-fire, small-caliber gun, it was a perfect little skirmisher. It was also optionally-manned, and capable of operating autonomously, or in swarms.

Finally, behind them were several amphibious assaults hips, which were the last of the America-class. The USS Jarvis carried the entirety of the 37th MEU, with all their necessary equipment and vehicles, as well a compliment of android combat grunts. The USS Maui and the USS Futuna carried the 25th MEU and the 47th MEU, respectively, along with their own compliment of androids.

The need for the expansion in the number of Marine Expeditionary Units had been glaringly clear in the leadup to WW3. With an increasingly belligerent China flexing its muscles across the Pacific, and with only one MEU stationed in Japan, the U.S. was woefully inadequate to conduct a theater-wide campaign, and thus, recruits had signed up in record numbers, swelling the ranks and building up the rest of the numbers.

Behind the America-class ships, several Afloat Forward Staging Base ships and the USS Donald J. Trump supercarrier, along with her full carrier escort group, waited in position for their turn to go over, once a beachhead was secured.

The Mark VII boats and their operators remained silent as their small craft entered into the gawking maw of the black abyss.

They didn't break a sweat as they continued their advance through, and as the dozens of drone ships followed in their wake, all in perfect five lines.

If one were able to hear the sounds reverberating within the empty expanse of the transition, all that could be heard were waves splashing. But instead of the expected air of calm radiating in all directions, the atmosphere was instead ghostly, hollow. The River Styx had nothing on this.

After several silent, spooky minutes of the boats in transition, the lead units caught a glimpse of the light at the end of the tunnel, as soon, they were exiting the Gate, and were spreading out, allowing the drone ships behind them to quickly exit.

"Neptune Actual, this is Hammer Head Actual. We're exiting the Gate and are coming to you."

"Glad you could make it. We've stirred up a hornet's nest over here, and the enemy is bound to swarm us soon." Harper replied.

"Copy that. We're plenty ready to bring the pain." The operator replied giddily.

Valerian Observation Tower

Rapun 19, 1037 IC

07:13:42 hrs

By this time, the sun was just beginning to rise, coming over the sea's horizon and behind the backs of the SEALs atop the tower.

After Harper and his platoon had raided the fort's main castle for intel, they had made a mad dash back to the safety of their tower, where they would coordinate the arrival of their comrades, and get a front row seat to the fireworks that would soon come.

"Hammer Head, this is Neptune. Sitrep on transit of friendly forces." Harper spoke into his headset's mic, finger on the trigger and scope zeroed in on the fort, as were his buddies.

"Neptune, Hammer Head. The drone boats are coming though now. Should be at least another thirty mikes. Landing ships and AFSBs to follow shortly. Could be some time before they're all in position. Over." Came the brisk reply.

"Copy that. We're situated atop the tower closest to the fort, directly across from the beach. Check your fire when you let loose. Acknowledge, over."

"Solid copy. We'll be commencing fire when we're set. Paint your targets so we can hit 'em where it hurts, over."

"You got it. Marking now." Harper momentarily switched off the mic. "Alright you heard him. Designators on." He prompted his compatriots.

He put aside his rifle and picked up his special binoculars, activating the integrated infrared laser, slowly began lighting up various enemy targets, as did his compatriots. Most notably, the targets included cothons housed the enemy ships, as well as the barracks and storage buildings.

Out on the open waters, the MK VII patrol boats had positioned themselves directly behind the tower some distance away, with the missile boats and drone ships positioning themselves in a single line spanning the length of the beach.

Once the drone ships were in position, they were turned so that they were directly facing the beach. With the targeting data received from the SEALs, the hatches on the missiles canisters opened, and within moments, a flurry of fiery arrows rippled across the morning air towards their targets.

Fort Sarus Carmona

Rapun 19, 1037 IC

08:02:43 hrs

Stumbling out of his chambers, with a mighty headache and an unpleasant feeling in his stomach, was none other than Praefecti Sisenna.

When he had woke up roughly half an hour earlier, his head hurt something fierce. At first, he couldn't remember what had happened, but then he tried focusing through the pain…then he saw…darkened figures…then a single question from one of them…

That was it!...He had been attacked by strange assassins during the night! And though they hadn't killed him, they still had attacked a high-ranking Imperial officer.

They thought they could simply barge into his quarters and demand something from him like a common thief!?

If that was what they thought, then they didn't know who they were dealing with!

His pride and honor and an Imperial officer hurt, and with payback on the mind, he quickly donned his rob and stormed out of his chambers, intent on leveraging his position and making his attackers suffer for their dishonorable act.

Reaching the outer courtyard of the main keep, he bellowed out. "Guards! Sound the alarm! We have intruders!"

Several moments of silent passed. Sisenna was confused. It was the beginning of the beginning of the day, when the soldiers and sailors were supposed to be already awake and tending to their ships. Did they not hear him?

"I said sound the alarm, you fools! Hunt down those strange men!"

Although there was still on response in the form of an alarm, small groups of men began emerging from some of the barracks.

"Strange men you say, sire?"

"Did anything happen last night?"

"Yes, some strangers attacked me in my chambers last night!" Sisenna replied in a rush of irritation. Now the men were in a flurry.

"They attacked you in your own chambers!?"

"Why didn't the gaurds do anything!?"

Within moments, the men began scrambling for their weapons and armor, intent on hunting down whoever these strange men were.

Now the Praefecti looked on with a hint of growing satisfaction. Now that his men were intent on hunting down those cowards, he would enjoy personally killing them – slowly. It would give him the satisfaction of engraving into them that one simply does not attack the Empire without reprisal.

But those dreams of sadism would not come to fruition, as while he was standing there, arms crossed and a smug look plastered on his face, a sound that nobody heard had rung out, and without a shout of pain, his chest was peirced, and he dropped without a sound.

Those closest to him, who were funning about in a frenzy trying to hunt down the assassins, witnessed their commander drop down without so much as a cry of pain.

They almost froze in their tracks at witnessing what had happened to him, and were confused.

"What just happened to him?"

"Did he fall asleep?"

"Is he alright?"

They gathered around the motionless body, and when the first brave soul turned it over, the others were immediate gripped with horror.

"His chest has been bloodied! There is a gaping hole in his chest!" Came the cry of alarm.

"What!? Is he dead!?"

"How!? Are there any arrows!?"

"No! There are no arrows! How could they fire without leaving behind an arrowhead!?"

"Did those strange men use assassination magic!?"

Observing through the scope of his suppressed Desert Tactical SRS-E3, Harper observed the growing panic among the ranks. He had already painted the targets and switched out the binocs with his sniper rifle, and decided to kick off the assault with a rather silent bang.

Only a mere several moments after the silent kill, a barrage of missiles rocked the enemy naval installation. Cothons, harbors, barracks, the main fort, and other buildings disappeared in blossoms of orange.

After the initial barrage, Harper called in a second and third volley to ensure that the base was completely neutralized and devoid of life.

And all the while, he and his platoon took the liberty of providing terminal guidance for the missiles with their laser designators.

After the third volley, the assault stopped, the dust settled, and the ringing of explosions finally ceased to echo. The SEALs had afforded themselves to a spectacular fireworks display indeed.

After several moments of awkward silence, Harper called it in. "Hammer Head, Neptune…target neutralized. It's possible there may be a few survivors. Go in and check it out, we'll cover you. Over."

"Roger. We'll get to it. Out."

While the drone boats held the line, the patrol boats surged forward, and when the boats were close enough to the shoreline, the MARSOC operators jumped over the sides and waded ashore, guns up.

Even though the aftermath of several consecutive missile volleys had devastated the enemy base, they still remained alert for any potential survivors.

The same thing happened multiple times in their own world, after all. Despite the continued increases in damage and precision with which the weapons were constantly gaining, some people amazingly managed to survive. Whether by hunkering down under several layers of rubble or by sheer luck, there were usually a few survivors.

For the next hour or so, they thoroughly combed the wreckage, looking for any signs of life.

Canus del Sita was an Imperial Marinus, a naval infantryman who had served aboard several ships.

He was one of the lucky, or unfortunate, survivors, of that massive attack.

He had seen some of the things the Imperial Navy was capable of. Artillery ships capable of launching massive fire boulders at cities or other ships, vessels capable of spewing fire from their prows just like a Flame Dragon, and massive dragon carriers able to hold a large compliment of Wyverns.

But none of that compared to the fiery horror that he had witnessed.

Massive explosions on par with divine wrath, and sturdy fortifications and ships gone in an instant. Men simply disappearing into oblivion as the screams from those around him rang unceasing.

Just what powerful fire magic could have caused such devastation in mere seconds!?

But that wasn't the main thought on his mind right now.

Somehow, he managed to survive the onslaught, and had pulled himself out of the rubble, but he was gravely injured. Suffering from being hit by collapsing debris and partially buried under rubble, his arms, legs, chest, and back were all bleeding.

Despite the pain and shock from witnessing the attack earlier, he managed to pull himself to his feet, and after several confused moments of gazing over the destruction and trying to get his bearings, he turned and began limping away, intent on escaping and warning whomever he could find.

Sadly, that would never come to pass, for as he rounded a pile of some rubble, he came across the strangest sight.

Directly on front of him was a group of seven men, dressed in the strangest clothes he had ever seen, all of whom wielded strange black staves.

He wasn't sure if these were the so-called "Other-Worlders" he had heard rumors about, but he couldn't think straight right now.

"Aaahhh…aaahhh…" He groaned feebly, slowly and painfully reaching for his gladius.

His hand never even touched the handle before several synchronized, silent gunshots perforated his chest. He was dead before he even hit the ground.

"Tango down." The lead MARSOC operator blurted without so much as a hint of remorse.

The several teams who had split up continued their sweep of the site, putting out any other unfortunate survivors out of their misery. Finally, after nearly twenty minutes, the all-clear was given.

"Hammer Head to Neptune. Site's all clear. No survivors. Over."

"Good to hear. I'll relay it." Harper switched frequencies. "Neptune to Warlord. Enemy naval base destroyed, no survivors. Requesting permission to proceed with Phase Three, over."

"I copy on all, permission granted to proceed with Phase Three. Over."

"Solid copy, Warlord. Neptune out."

With the approval relayed to all the operators, the drone boats were given new orders, and they moved away from the beach, beginning to conduct autonomous patrol patterns.

Under the veil of the swarm protection, the amphibious assault ships and AFSBs were soon coming through the Gate, and within hours, Marines and their combat grunts were coming ashore to clear the site of rubble.

While this location was still a good distance away from Imperial coastal territory and major port cities, it would provide an ample staging location for all naval assets. This would also be a springboard for all future naval ops.

Control of the high seas would not remain in Imperial hands for much longer…

After-Action Report:

Enemy naval installation destroyed; no survivors

Gate side secured for future naval ops

Phase Three to commence soon…

End Report