Archerfish Ch. 12

13:20 hours (UTC +10), Commander's Briefing Room, US Fleet Activities, Yokosuka

Day +5

Commodore Juan Ngaio, Commander COMSUBGRU Seven, was not, by nature, a serious man. Which is not to say that he didn't take his job seriously; he most certainly did. Himself, though? Not so much. It was one of the reasons Admiral Weaver liked him, and liked having him around. He was not a man given to panic; among his talents was the ability to calmly synthesize disturbing information and react appropriately. He was a good officer, able to deliver serious news diplomatically, as well as an excellent tactician, anticipating the enemy several steps ahead. It was the former skillset that he called upon now.

Present in the Briefing Room were Admiral Kentaro Goto, Commander U.S. Fleet Activities Yokosuka, Vice-Admiral Daisuke Richardson, Commander COMSEVENTHFLT, and Rear Admiral Tedward Hofmann, Commander, TF70. Attending via projected Hologram were Admiral Keri Weaver, Commander USPACFLT, and Rear Admiral Amaré Patton, Commander COMSUBPAC.

Admiral Goto began the meeting, and after the introductions and greetings had finished, Commodore Ngaio addressed the group.

"As you know, hostilities have erupted in the Pacific, roughly 1,250 800 miles southeast of here, between an Abyssal Force and TF 14, which includes the new Kanmusu. We've given you each a package containing our best estimates of who the new Kanmusu are and how they are equipped. As you also know, five days ago, USPACFLT at NAB Coronado received an encrypted message from a Kanmusu in the mid-Pacific identifying itself as U.S.S. Archerfish. The location was deep in Abyssal territory and the encryption codes were from 1998. Abyssal subterfuge was suspected. Forty-two hours later, we received a similar message from a U.S.S. Michigan, at Midway. Task Force 14 was dispatched from USFAY to intercept them. Orders were to meet and escort them to whichever of USFAY or NBCSD was closer, if friendly, or to engage and destroy if met with hostile intent. Twenty-four hours after that, we picked up a shortwave transmission from a U.S.S Arkansas, requesting flyover confirmation of Archerfish and Michigan. This information was relayed to U.S.S. Essex, leader of TF14.

"Essex reported in yesterday at 1600 hours that they had made contact with a total of six ships, U.S.S' Blue Ridge, Enterprise, and Narwhal having joined the group without broadcast. There were a few disturbing developments. The six Kanmusu were apparently summoned from civilian origins as normal people." There were a few small murmurs around the table as this information was digested. Ngaio continued.

"They all belonged to the same Sea Scout Ship, 142, from the Chesapeake Bay area. Investigations have revealed that a number of that troop were reported lost during their Summer Cruise in 2019. The names that the new ships call each other by match the names of some of those lost. They also display what Essex referred to as 'an unnerving amount of both childishness and overwhelming firepower.' Additionally, one of them is male."

There were muffled exclamations of surprise, and Rear Admiral Patton made a small fist pump and muttered "Yes!"

"Twenty minutes ago, we received word that hostile contact was made with an extensive Abyssal force, numbering 20 ships and 28 subs, plus six carriers. Reports are sporadic, but computer and satellite links have been established and are providing data from the new ships. TF14 is not linked into the network, but the U.S.S. Blue Ridge has been relaying information between the ships. We have not made contact from here yet, so as not to distract her.

"The situation as it stands is very fluid. We have inexperienced ships with an inordinate amount of ordnance who are unused to military actions, in an active shooting situation. Their Scout training will help mitigate-"

Admiral Weaver interrupted, looking up from her datapad. "So what you're telling me is that we have Boy Scouts, civilians, in possession of nuclear armament, including ballistic missiles. And that they are engaged in combat, in open water, with an Abbysal fleet? And that they are too far away for us to offer any material support?

Commodore Ngaio looked directly at the hologram of his superior. "Yes, sir."

Admiral Weaver took a deep breath, looked over at Admiral Goto and nodded, then leaned in and said "Okay, boys and girls, here's what we're gonna do."

15:30 hours (UTC +10), 34°57'19.3"N 153°02'34.2"E

Day +5

It didn't actually take very long to rejoin the fleet. We heard them long before we saw evidence of the battle, and our fairies had kept us all plugged in to Bri's running chatter as we swam. In fact, they kept us plugged in to more than that. Sometime right after the Abyssals made contact with the main fleet, one of Bri's TacFaires had helpfully pointed out that her Tactical Data Link (Link 11) was not fully engaged. Something about the time signatures being off. They managed to fix whatever it was and sync up, because suddenly my world expanded beyond my horizons, and I was connected to EVERYONE. This was probably what a Vulcan mind-meld was like. Or an LSD trip. Maybe both. My fairies had done a number of small miracles on me. I was no longer in pain, but that was because I could no longer feel my left leg below my hip. I also could not move it. This became problematic as we entered the debris field.

And there was a lot of debris. Our progress was hampered by the sheer volume of flotsam and jetsam on the waves. The storm had mostly abated, but the smoke from various pieces of burning wreckage blew in the winds and obscured our vision. There were just so many black and sooty-white pieces floating around us, and the sea itself had taken on an oily blue sheen that made swimming a rather disgusting chore. To the right was a hideous Abyssal plane canopy, it's gaping maw blown open. To the left was the ruin of an Abyssal cruiser, face down in the waves, her back burning down to the waterline. Over there was what remained of an Abyssal carrier, her flat deck on fire and lighting whatever flammable pieces she bumped into as she sank lower and lower in the water. The skies above were peppered with black puffballs from flak, and we could hear the engines getting louder, both propeller and jet.

(Link-11: sonar: 3 contacts; hostile. bearing:270. speed: closing, SLOW)

"You're not getting another shot at us!" Michele exclaimed. She tried to juggle me and her gun, but Nicole put her hand out to steady us.

"Bri is way ahead of us", she interrupted.

(Link-11: radar: 4 contacts; friendly. Bearing 270. speed: closing 450 knots)

"Brace", Nicole said as a loud whoosh reached our ears. I saw four S-3 Vikings come in above me, faintly outlined in blue, and then watched as they dropped torpedoes just to our east. Large plumes of water erupted into the sky, and we felt the impact of sub-surface explosions.

(Link-11: sonar: debris)

Nicole waved at them as they veered off. "I don't know how much you've been talking with Bri, or monitoring the data", she said. "There are a lot of planes in the air right now; the Goths have three carriers, two battleships, and a heavy cruiser left. They've all sustained damage."

I struggled to rise up. "They're going to need us", I said.

"They could certainly use us", Nicole concurred, "but not if it gets you dead. Or crippled." She looked pointedly at my leg. "Can you even stand?"

"I can try." With both their help, I struggled up to stand on my right leg. Once I was up, I put my right arm around Michele's shoulders. She held me at the waist, which left her right arm free to fire. I held my grenade launcher in my left. It would have to do. With Nicole hovering, and trying to look like she wasn't hovering, we set off again.

It was slower going, but I felt better being upright; less like dead weight being towed. The view wasn't necessarily better, though. We were still in the debris field, but now I could make out ships people on the western horizon. The air was thick with the smells of smoke and oil, and I could hear the sounds of explosions in the distance. There were planes maneuvering overhead – jets at near stall-speeds and propeller aircraft diving and dancing with gothic-horror Abyssal fighters, who were dropping out of the sky with satisfying frequency.

I couldn't do much as far as shooting or swimming, but I could still talk. I put my hand to my headset.

"Bri? This is Archer. Thanks for the assist."

"No worries. You okay?" came the reply.

"Best as I can be, under the circumstances. Upright and talking. We're on our way in."

"Roger that. You're on my screens. You should be able to see us soon. There are hostiles in your area. Be aware."

"We see them. Is there anything you want us to concentrate on?" I asked.

"Just get here", she said. "And shoot everything that shows up red."

We came across one of the Abyssal carriers on our way. She was under attack by a wing of F-14 Tomcats. Link 11 identified them as VF-103, the "Jolly Rogers". Michele fired one of her torpedoes at the carrier. As we paused a moment to verify the impact, over my headset I thought heard a rather distinctive, fast-paced tune coming from the wing. I touched my transmitter.

"Victory three, is that music coming from your channel? Are you . . . Singing?" I asked.

The response came over coms, loud and clear: "Hey, hey, hey, hey, heyheyhey. Heyheyheyhey Hey, hey, hey, hey, heyheyhey-ey!"

"Oh for-, who let them watch Top Gun?" Nicole groused.

The torpedo exploded, sending metal and wood flying. Having already sustained significant damage from the Tomcats, the carrier fell to her left side, her arms splaying out in front of her. Her white hair fanned out into the water, like wave-caps, and she began to sink. We continued on our way, and as the planes zoomed by, several of them waggled their wings at us.

16:00 hours (UTC +10), 34°44'58.4"N 152°50'20.9"E

Day +5

At long last, after pushing through the increasing mass of detritus that ebbed and flowed around us like Arctic pack ice coming back together in late fall, we came to an area of clear but churning water: the eye of the righteous storm that was unleashing Hell upon the Abyssal Force. As we pulled into the ring of open water, I saw several vignettes of destruction, the sights I was seeing overlaying the visual information relayed to me by my TacFairies.

Planes were circling everywhere, with Wildcats turn-fighting the Abyssals, and jets roaring by in boom-and-zoom attacks.

Essex was putting out a small deck fire, while Iowa was standing in front of her, trading fire with one of the Abyssal battleships.

Baltimore had lost her A & B turrets, and was being held up by Guest, who also looked much the worse for wear.

Fubuki and Taylor were both bloodied but still fighting, shooting at the planes and at the other Abyssal battleship. They were standing guard around Atago and Cowpens. Atago seemed to be unconscious and was being tended to by Cowpens, who was holding her own left arm at a strange angle.

Bri had one arm wrapped around her middle and was breathing heavily and wincing every time she spoke. Next to Bri, Kaylee was firing left, right, and center at everything that was still moving; RIM-66s flying outwards like a Macross Missile Massacre.

And as I watched, Elizabeth, who had been holding an Abyssal carrier by the front of her shirt and punching her repeatedly in the face, reached out and grabbed the carrier's Yumi bow, and began beating her with it.

Nicole gave me and Michele a thumbs up, and with a grim nod, slipped below the water. Michele turned to angle her body between me and the Abyssals, and started firing torpedoes.

Iowa took a shot to her right side, and one of her miniature gun turrets exploded. She was knocked back onto the water, her rigging burning furiously. She ducked her right hip under the water to extinguish the fire, and struggled to regain her feet. Essex put out a hand to help her up, as one of Michele's torpedoes struck the enemy battleship. Like the carrier earlier, the water exploded under her feet, and the Abyssal flew backward. She hit the water with a hefty splash, and even though her arms flailed, she slid beneath the waves.

I couldn't see anymore ships outlined in red, although I knew there was still a heavy cruiser and a carrier unaccounted for, not including the one getting the beat-down from Elizabeth. There were still more enemy planes than I could count, and although most of them wouldn't have a place to land, that didn't preclude them from crashing into us.

Off to the east, I saw a huge plume of water shoot into the air. My TacFairies confirmed that had been Nicole, sending torpedoes into the cruiser. They verified that Nicole was okay, and the Abyssal was not.

Elizabeth had broken the bow on the Abyssal carrier, whom she had once again grabbed by the shirt. She was shaking her and screaming in her face; I couldn't quite make out the words. The Abyssal was flopping around limply, her head and arms flailing outward like a ragdoll with each shake. Elizabeth flung the carrier away from her with a mighty heave, and turned, breathing hard through her teeth, nostrils flaring, to see what dared remain. Her eyes lighted on us, and her fury fled, replaced immediately by relieved joy. Elizabeth had always been the ultimate big sister to all of us, even though she was related to only Kaylee. I was genuinely glad to see her, and started to call a greeting, but then movement over her shoulder caught my eye, and the words died on my lips.

Walking through the debris as if she were walking across a stage, came an Abyssal Carrier, larger than the others. Malice and rage roiled off of her, with a force that was palpable. Her eyes glowed purple, staring balefully through us, and as she strode closer, she unfurled two, no four, ghastly arms from behind, sprouting from her back like some horrible, organic Doc Ock. She raised all six arms, and as she did so, the defeated abyssal ships rose from the sea. She turned her hands over, fingers outsplayed, and her battlegroup began to heal.

"You will sink. Again and again. Until there's nothing left", she said.

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