Bright lights. Glaring displays. Numbers, text, and icons. The world rendered in a digital ecosystem. Though sterile and unconcerned, it was alive and even the subtlest activity carried with it change - some innocuous, some that spelled the gravest of consequences.
Andromeda yawned. For countless hours she had been cooped up in her station, eyes glued to the screens. Captured on display was the map of the world, the coastlines and waters around the Silver Star Federation under close watch by many tireless eyes. Whether they scanned the air, the seas, or even the airwaves, Andromeda was there to process it all, taking the ceaseless stream of data and reports to paint a picture of the ongoing war.
And as its translator, it was up to her to interpret what such an arcane picture meant.
The intelligence vessel took another sip from her mug. The black elixir refreshed her enough to ward off her great enemy that was drowsiness, if only temporarily. A constant battle that a noncombatant such as herself had to fight in this great war. And she needed a new pot.
As Andromeda was roused from the taste, her eyes caught movement. Taking a closer look, she paused to process what she just caught. Her exhaustion would question what she witnessed, the briefest lapse in judgement and focus chronic dangers. But in her reinvigorated state, there was no doubting what she saw.
Something had just emerged from the anomaly site, the bridge between worlds. And it was steadily flying towards them.
She heard footsteps and turning, Andromeda caught Warbler wandering into the situation room. The officer ship picked up on the stare. "Got something, Andromeda?"
"Just detected an airborne bogey emerging from the anomaly," the intelligence ship answered, pointing to the radar screen. "Altitude 977, bearing 078."
Just as the news sparked Andromeda's notice, so too did Warbler hurriedly join her side in witnessing the moment. The eye she gave the unknown contact was attentive and rapt, but a part of it remained wary and cautious. "Bogey is unknown; transponder doesn't match anything on our records."
"But it came from the other world!" Andromeda pointed out, barely able to contain her excitement. "If it's headed towards us, then it must be-"
"Let's not jump to conclusions here," Warbler advised firmly. "First reconnaissance, then we decide for certain. Who's the nearest ship we can task?"
Andromeda was already searching before the question finished and by the time it did, she had already found her answer.
"It's Kestrel, ma'am. Her patrol area intersects with the bogey's predicted path."
Warbler nodded. "Alright. Send her in. And uh…"
Even as her words trailed into nothingness, Andromeda could sense what she had in mind. She visibly shifted in her seat. "Er, any chance we can leave her out of this…?"
"Not a chance," the cruiser warily admitted. "You know she'd blow a nucleon reactor if something this important was done without her notice…"
Andromeda's shoulders slumped. As fateful this occurrence was, it was certain that a certain someone would not hear of it that she had been kept out of the loop. And the risks - and consequences - only grew once she realized what would become of this incident once news broke out. Especially if…
She sighed. "... Alright. Guess we have to."
Warbler did not partake but merely shared the sentiment with a knowing look. But regardless, there was one thing she and the intelligence vessel could agree on.
"Barbet's not going to like this…"
Location: Ceres Ocean, proximity to Verusan Entente waters
Elsewhere out at sea, a gale swept across the waves. The realms of air and sea clashed and intermingled, the waves obeying the whims of the sky.
A lone white heron watched the waters with beady focused eyes. It stared intently, enraptured not by the swinging sea but by the furtive life below, spying faint schools of fish. Safe in their domain below the waves, they swam oblivious to the envious eyes from above. Tempting as it was to poke into the depths to catch them, the heron stayed its beak.
A hand caressed its long neck, fingers brushing the white feathers. "Shhh, Ustoy. You'll get a snack later…"
The heron turned towards its owner, a tall slender girl wrapped by an oversized dark coat that stretched down to her knees. Long black hair draped over her shoulders and parts of her face as much as it hung over her back. The great heron, only half the size of this unusually statuesque figure, nuzzled against the girl's head as it perched on her shoulder.
The girl nudged the bird's beak away. But it was clear in her expression that the intent was welcomed.
Verusan Entente Destroyer
CHAPLYA
The gentle push quickly turned into playful scratching as Chaplya stroked her pet's neck, a stark black plume that trickled down to the bird's chest. The heron Ustoy nudged back in return as he faintly croaked, his black eyes intently fixed on the destroyer. His beak and her fingers went back and forth in gentle play.
But then Chaplya stopped, an interruption giving her pause. In the corner of her vision, she noticed a peculiarity on her radar minimap. A set of eyes with further reach than her own, and one tweaked to be more so vigilant for her patrol, Chaplya detected a strange blip on her scope.
She scrutinized the contact, recognizing no allegiance or intent, let alone origin aside from the sky. As if the aerial bogey had popped into existence over the open expanse of the Ceres Ocean, its course headed due east.
East: in the broad direction toward the Silver Star Federation. Chaplya wasn't sure what to make of the information, but figured there it was worth sharing. She opened up her comms to cough, tapping her receiver as she dispatched her radar data into the ether.
It took a second for a reply to return, the familiar voice of her Commissary not too surprising to the destroyer already too familiar with her tone and vitriolic eloquence. "We've received your datalink, comrade Chaplya. The only thing that lays east is the Federation. Intercept and ascertain its true nature before it reaches their filthy hands!"
Chaplya stretched her frown at the predictable vocabulary but made sure not to say anything. Withheld silence suited the destroyer just fine - made it easier to conceal her discontent or any smartass thoughts behind peoples' backs.
But when it came to orders, if she had nothing to say then she had nothing to object. And to someone like Chaplya, that was as good as an affirmative.
Securing her pet's roost on her shoulder, Chaplya made ready to set forth.
Glimmering light like glass shimmered from the shining waters as a figure glided by. Hems of a black coat brushed alongside the wings of her metal rigging, riding the fast winds in her wake. Although there was no danger, the sense of urgency was seemingly felt.
Kestrel still couldn't contain her surprise at the latest development. "... Are you sure?"
"Affirmative," Andromeda replied over the radio. "Definitely emerged from the anomaly site. Satellite imagery confirmed it to be a transport aircraft: twin-engined propeller plane, human in design. Couldn't spot any recognizable markings and whatever it is, it's certainly not from here."
Thoughts and implications swam in Kestrel's head. Possibilities blossomed abound at the information - all speculation still, but the intelligence vessel would know what she was talking about. Something appearing from the bridge between worlds; the only thing on the other side being the world of ships, friends and foes alike. If the news broke out…
"Am I to escort the aircraft?" Kestrel eagerly asked.
"You are not the one deciding the mission here, Kestrel." The carrier felt a sharp pang of dread upon hearing Barbet's voice. "As your commanding officer I determine the objectives based on facts. And the fact remains that the bogey is flying with an unrecognized transponder with a flight path over unsecured waters. You are to intercept the unidentified craft and make contact, nothing more. You will obey my orders to the letter. Is that understood?"
Kestrel said nothing.
Barbet's voice came again, now as a demand. "Is that understood?"
"... Yes." Biting her lip, Kestrel maintained her heading. Even though her course and speed held firm, she felt a heavy heart anchor her down. She felt uncertain of the callous intent as much as it was expected of their stern adamant officer.
But orders were orders. The situation was murky and a careful touch would be needed. Precision therefore was not to be asked - but demanded.
The carrier held course until a blip popped up into her radar's view. A white dot: neutral and uncertain as expected, holding its own course at the bearing and altitude as reported. Her radio open, a curious buzzing snuck into her ears.
"..."
"Kestrel here. I'm detecting radio transmissions."
"Heard it here too. It's coming from the unknown craft. I can isolate the signal but you'll need to get closer."
"Understood." Surging ahead, Kestrel kept her eyes trained on the horizon in front of her. The unidentified contact's path was tracked with the point of contact estimated, the intersection planned and predetermined. With any luck, she'd spot the mysterious bird soon. Perhaps it may spot her.
The radio signal continued buzzing and harping, the sounds still inscrutable.
"..."
"... nee… ut… n't re…"
Kestrel kept up her guard as she proceeded, darting between scanning her surroundings and the blip her radar tracked, inching closer and closer. Her eyes raced, searching for whatever the object was until she finally found it.
A lone speck on a lonely voyage. Wings like a bird but as she looked closer Kestrel realized it was more an albatross than any mere gull. A great bird sailing the ocean of skies in its lonesome.
"... hol… reac… nd soon…"
"Signal's getting stronger," Kestrel reported.
"Definitely," confirmed the intelligence vessel. "You should be getting within range. Try hailing them."
The Federation carrier wasted no time. Switching to a broad frequency, Kestrel tried to reach out to the bird with her voice. "This is the SSF Hubert-class carrier Kestrel to unknown craft. Transmitting aircraft, state your assignment and current status."
Her receiver hissed with white noise until the static gave way to something comprehensible. "... inally a response. This is the transport plane Mother Goose One. We're flying to the country of the Silver Star Federation for an important mission…"
Kestrel tried to remain calm. The voice, likely the pilot's, was unfamiliar as was the plane's exact origins. Nothing yet was absolute, but her guesses only continued to flourish. She picked up the pace, eager to catch up to the aircraft. A framed neon box highlighted the flying visitor in her eyes, labeling it a yellow unknown. Kestrel consciously held her fire with an anxious breath.
"Say, what's your location?"
"Thirty miles south of your position," Kestrel replied.
"We're en route to the mainland though we may need to make a quick stop to refuel," the pilot continued. "Are you here to guide us?"
But before anyone would provide an answer, Barbet cut in. "Negative, Mother Goose One. You are not permitted landing clearance on Federation territory. You are to turn around and head back."
The carrier was stunned quiet at the heartless directive. But before Kestrel could even think of interjecting her reaction into words, another voice from within the plane cut in.
"Uh, this is Mother Goose One. This voice, is this Barbet?"
Kestrel nearly gasped. That voice… it wasn't the pilot's.
It was a man's.
"I'm here on a priority mission," the voice continued. "You see, I'm-"
"I don't care who you are," growled Barbet. "You are flying over Federation waters with an unknown transponder. You are not given clearance to land."
"Why? What's going on?"
"Hmph. Sounds like you don't watch the news if you're unaware there's a war going on," the Federation captain snarked over the comms. "The Silver Star Federation is currently in a state of war with the Verusan Entente and its affiliates. We have tightened our borders and as such we cannot allow unauthorized entry. No exceptions."
"A war? Well, nice of you to finally tell us this," the man joked. "But are you sure there's no place for us to land? It's been a long trip and I would appreciate a debrief of the situation. How did the war even break out?"
"Why does that matter?" Barbet coldly asked. "You are trespassing Federation airspace. Turn a hundred-eighty degrees and depart the area, now."
"But I'm on an important mission," the voice urged. "I need to ascertain the whereabouts of the Azur Lane expedition that was dispatched here earlier this…"
Azur Lane… Kestrel's eyes widened at the mention. Although she was unfamiliar with the male voice she already had her suspicions. Now she had a strong hunch.
"... and just what are you even transporting in a craft of that size?" Barbet demanded, the verbal back-and-forth shifting like the tides. "State your cargo."
"Uhh, it's just me. I suppose you can call me the cargo of this plane."
"Tch. Some important freight… Mother Goose One, reverse your heading and proceed back to the anomaly site. I will not say this again, do you-"
"Barbet!"
The captain let out a scathing groan. "What is it now?"
As the two argued, Kestrel had spotted a peculiarity in the corner of her radar. A blip had entered the screen, seemingly out of nowhere just as Mother Goose One had over the empty ocean. But where the cargo plane entered their world as an anomaly, Kestrel was not fooled by this new entity.
It was highlighted blood-red, heading towards them as a skimmer of the seas.
"Enemy detected on radar. It's headed this way!"
Barbet hissed a curse. "Damn. Of all the times… Kestrel, engage!"
For once, the ship did not doubt this order. Veering to a new course, Kestrel expeditiously steered to meet the new contact head-on.
Eyes watched the errant dot on radar, the curious object holding a steady course east.
Up at the front, Pitomnik could spot a dot in the sky. It corresponded with their findings, her own naked eyes concrete proof. Leaning in, she could make out vague bird-like features.
"So what do you think it is?" she wondered. "... Comrade Chaplya?"
She glanced behind her to find her fellow destroyer trailing behind, matching her speed but not on the on same page apparently as Chaplya's focus was more invested in her pet heron than their present surroundings. Even the discovery of the object they had been sent to investigate elicited less of a thought than tending to the great bird.
Pitomnik was stumped by why her impromptu partner was so disinclined. After all, she was the one who first reported it! "Er, comrade Chaplya? Ch-Chaplya? Um…" She wasn't sure how to grab her attention, finding herself timid in the presence of someone that towered over her, possessing more adult qualities in body than her. Pitomnik had to remind herself that Chaplya was still a destroyer in spite of her characteristics.
The dark-haired destroyer merely spared her fellow comrade an annoyed look. Pitomnik already figured what the message was. "Er, apologies, b-but the anomaly- it is, um…"
Chaplya quietly rolled her eyes, nodding dismissively. Pitomnik decided to concede before turning her attention back to the front where her eyes then widened with alarm. Their discovery of the unknown flying plane had elicited a more daunting prize awaiting them.
"Comrade! Up front!"
Chaplya narrowed her eyes at the detection of the enemy ship, a distant figure in black. It didn't take either of them long to suspect who it could be.
"Hrmm," she hummed cynically. Pitomnik was more willing to translate that trepidation over the radio. "Pitomnik to base! We've spotted the enemy!"
"So the unknown visitor is conspiring with the Federation dregs… Engage the enemy and bring that aircraft down intact! Reinforcements dispatched as we speak! Umely, out!"
As Pitomnik felt the color drain from her face, Chaplya merely sagged her shoulders at the order. Looking back, she just had to open her dumb mouth to tell Umely about this. Go chase after the unexpected bogey, find out what it is. Now bring it down without destroying it with missiles. Don't worry about the Federation ship that just happened to have beaten her to it, go fight her. Don't lose heart, comrade!
Even if the enemy ship happened to be the Silver Star Federation's one and only Kestrel.
… Of course it just had to be her alone against Kestrel, a veteran aircraft carrier.
If Chaplya could get out of this in one piece, she was definitely going to shoot the Commissary a one-fingered salute the next time she wasn't looking.
Well screw it. Ignoring Pitomnik who faltered against the intimidating threat, Chaplya shot past her. Ustoy was lifted from her shoulder, bestowing the destroyer speed to rapidly close the gap, rocketing nearly right up to Kestrel. The head-on rush accompanied the radar warnings but begot a crucial surprise - and Chaplya had none of it to hamper her. At this range, one wouldn't even need a lock-on.
The first shot sizzled from her mount. Chaplya rode fast in its smoky wake but the embers quickly clued her in with the lack of fire she had anticipated. Swooping around, she shot out of the smoke whereupon in the clarity, a dark figure emerged from the haze, unharmed and unfazed.
Chaplya hastily bounded evasively but it was too late. Shadows darted over her, ebon ravens taking to the air in circles over her head. The attack had already taken place - the swift consequences would now come.
The destroyer grimaced as she took off, sounds of radar lock already filling her ears as she ran as did a curious transmission. Unfamiliar voices - civilians - trickled into her comms. "Woah, there's a shootout!"
"Gain altitude, quick!"
Smoky streaks swirled in the skies before fire became trickling down. Dashing and weaving from one explosion from another, Chaplya was quick to retaliate until a missile grazed past her. Glaring at her foe for the opportunistic shot, she switched her focus towards subduing the carrier.
"Be careful Chaplya! She's targeting you!"
Chaplya groaned audibly before dashing to the side. Kestrel tracked the destroyer's lateral movement but also kept a piece of mind on the other. Pitomnik wavered from the fight, intimidated by the carrier's aura. But in light of her partner's straits, her weapons remained trained on Kestrel.
Sensing the stare of weapons from both sides, Kestrel reacted, shifting position to recede from their aim. She sent one of her Tomcats and a missile of her own after the rookie ship, compelling her with a hasty withdraw. The missile was not a concern for Pitomnik, but she lost her nerve at the sight of the raven bird hurtling straight for her. She ran with the pursuing plane snatching lost ground and giving her no quarter. As missile snaked after her, Pitomnik now began to lament her misfortune in waking up this morning, being assigned this mission, and facing the famous Federation veteran in battle.
Meanwhile the rest of the Tomcats hounded after Chaplya with missile periodically raining on top of her as she dodged, deflected, and neutered with countermeasures. But it was becoming clear that the attacks were strategic: where Kestrel seemingly held back on intensity, she made up for it by launching from multiple angles, staggering them to tempt the destroyer's countermeasures which left her open to the next strike.
A near miss and Chaplya silently cursed the carrier's ploy (as well as her comrade's uselessness). Her only gambit was to target the carrier herself but with her birds harassing her on her behalf, a vaunting hurdle was thrown before her. The air attacks left her on constant guard with no reprieve for a counterstrike, no break from the pummeling blows of constant barrage.
Time for a ploy of her own.
With what breath remained in her lungs, Chaplya let out a shrill whistle. A shadow quietly fell upon Kestrel before claws and feathers crashed on top of her from behind. A furor of flapping wings and a prodding beak pestered the white-haired carrier, her cry of surprise drowned out by a heron's biting squawks.
Kestrel scrambled to free herself from the wild bird's grasp, but even under duress her ears picked up the telltale trills of a missile lock. She forced herself to peer past the commotion of a bird attack to catch Chaplya ready her assault to complete her retribution. Wrenching the birds off of her back, Kestrel had room to duck just in time for a missile. But the destroyer's pet persisted with his harassment and with his master now launching attacks, Kestrel now found herself on the back foot. Her pet was a distraction to leave her open to the real attack as Chaplya and even Pitomnik made their moves.
The carrier made haste to move but Chaplya's pet was quickly upon her once more, poking, biting, and now yanking at Kestrel's hair. Caught once more in the bird's throes, Kestrel tried to shoo the heron away but the bird would not budge. She was afraid to harm the wild bird, but under her opponent's vindictive aim she was left with little recourse.
Doing her best to ignore the pain tugging at her scalp, Kestrel hastily sought the bird with her hands, clamping them down before holding it away, the flapping wings and angry cawing present but abated. The annoyance was not resolved but it subsided enough for Kestrel to renew her focus back on the destroyer in time to catch her for the next attempted strike. Meeting her gaze, Chaplya's mind raced like her frantic speed; the jig was up and the next shot might be her last…
… Then her eyes stumbled upon the airborne dot in the skies. Remembering her mission, an idea popped in her head.
A missile hissed out of the destroyer's rigging. Kestrel braced for its arrival, reacting instinctually on the all-too familiar puff of smoke. But as she lurched to dodge, the missile sailed high over her head. Sensing something amiss, Kestrel tracked the projectile's path.
Her heart nearly stopped; her eyes went wide; a gasp barely escaped from her lips when she found the missile's intended target.
Mother Goose One.
"Hey, is that-"
"... Woah woah, incoming!"
The cargo plane reacted but it was too late. The plane tilted but against its own lumbering weight it was too slow to slip from the missile as it snaked through the air like a harpoon destined for vengeance. The airframe groaned like prey in distress. Escape was impossible - a savage kill was imminent.
Then a dark shape darted right by with a startling scream of a jet engine. Light filled the air.
And when the sun regained its glare, the aircraft continued to fly as though nothing happened.
The aircraft trundled past a faint wispy trail, the missile having veered off into oblivion under the acrid scent of flares. Seeing the cargo plane fly unharmed, Chaplya shrugged with a sigh. Oh well. At least the last-second save was spectacular, she'll admit.
Holding out her arm, Ustoy returned to her side safe and sound, if with a few ruffled feathers. As she glanced down, she took solace at having snuck one blow on Kestrel's back during the pandemonium. A deceitful hit she'll admit, but against a veteran such as the Silver Star Idol and with the directive given to her, Chaplya felt she had little choice.
A presence quickly made itself known by her side as hands latched onto her arm. Turning, Chaplya was greeted with the Pitomnik, her expression colored with outrage. "C-comrade Chaplya, what was that for?!"
The destroyer wrenched her arm from her grasp, refusing to meet her comrade in the eye.
"I-I know the Commissary had ordered us to bring down the aircraft if possible," continued Pitomnik in angered disbelief. "B-but I never thought you'd be so heartless as to-"
Lying on the ocean surface, Kestrel stirred. The two destroyers fell silent as she painfully raised herself up, turning to look at them with a hurt look. Pitomnik gulped, unable to face her - it was clear that the carrier's expression wasn't caused by the damage inflicted.
"Why…"
Chaplya glanced aside, her mouth pursed shut. She didn't feel in any mood to explain herself for this act, much less try and convince this ship of her intent. As much as she downplayed it, she didn't particularly feel proud of attacking a harmless transport as a distraction. But it was either her or the carrier. And in war, Chaplya much preferred it to be the carrier.
But as Chaplya turned back towards Kestrel to resume their affairs, the carrier's eyes suddenly went wide. "Look out!"
Before she could even be piqued by the peculiar warning, Chaplya felt a fiery kick to her back. Pitomnik was not spared from the unexpected strike, her harrowing yelp marking her as its casualty. Chaplya staggered with the breath knocked out of her and as fire burned on her back, she was eager to find just who it was that hit them.
Her answer came in the shape of straight-winged birds, with bombs ladened on their bellies and with hides of green, decorated with red suns. A soft chuckling accompanied their arrival.
"Fufufu… What insolence, from a silly girl. And to think Umely had to dispatch such an ill-mannered wench for a delicate task…"
Both Chaplya and Kestrel gaped at the sight of Akagi, striding the blue waves with her auburn fox tails in full blossom like a flower. But they bristled like fire, and while she smiled her eyes shone with acute malevolence and disdain.
"I will take things from here," she continued, reserving the slightest of sneers towards the Entente ship. "Consider yourself relieved."
Simmering at her luck, Chaplya was made to consider discretion the better part of valor under the encroaching shadow of Akagi's Zero swarm. Glancing towards her comrade, she realized Pitomnik lay still, agony written on her face. Reining in her pet and grabbing hold of Pitomnik, Chaplya limped a hasty retreat but not before quickly throwing a distasteful sign towards the Sakura carrier. While the exact interpretation of the gesture was known only to Chaplya, it did not take a genius to insinuate the likely translation as a "F*** you."
Akagi twisted her face with rage but by the time she thought of embedding a fiery lance into her back to finish the job, the destroyer had already scampered off. The rage burned within her, stoked by dreams of reprisal to teach this impertinent destroyer a sense of humility, perhaps even extend her acrimony to her unconscious little friend. But current plans quelled the feeling under control.
There were more important matters to attend to today.
As she turned her attention back to Kestrel, the Federation carrier was already on her feet, prepared to fight though weary for one. "Listen, the transport plane you're here for is unarmed. Let it go and I won't fight you!"
Akagi could only find herself cackling at the request. "So hackneyed, so oblivious aren't you, you miserable copy-cat? Why, I am here for the unexpected visitor! I desire to have the cargo all for myself… if only miscreants such as yourself did not impede my path!"
Kestrel braced with the look of alarm. "I won't let you endanger the transport!"
"Fufufu… You pathetic wench, you truly know nothing. I do want that cargo plane, my prize intact… I just want you out of my way!"
With a wide swipe of her hand, a string of four-pointed stars flashed across the air before disappearing in flames, an air wing in its place. They immediately descended upon Kestrel, their approach marked by the siren-like screech as they dove.
The Federation carrier leapt out of the way, the seas around her popping with raking gunfire. No bombs - Kestrel knew that Akagi was merely toying with her quarry. Her sadistic smile was proof as she swept her hand again, the heavens darkening with a cloud of Zeroes. They swirled as a great hand of the Sakura carrier, moving as one to a single target in mind: Kestrel.
Whistling filled the air and Kestrel swiftly receded away. Thunder rained as did sprays as geysers spewed from the sea, Kestrel's world becoming clouded with bombs from above, torpedoes from below. She ran and evaded but the tide of explosives was staunch and uncompromising.
Kestrel grunted as she felt the heat of the bombs and the bite of the bullets. The damage was superficial but determined; Akagi's cackling accompanied the barrage as she took delight at her opponent's torment. As she did, her eyes made a passing glance to Mother Goose One still flying above.
She smirked with a dreamy stupor. "Can you hear me…?"
Even in the midst of battle, Kestrel was astonished to hear a reply. "What the-! What're you doing?! Stop this at once!"
But the carrier, despite the twinkle in her eye that resonated at the sound of the voice on the wide airwaves, glowered with a smoldering aura. "No. Not again. Not since you parted from us to be in the clutches of ungrateful vermin. It pains me to demand this from you… but stay out of this!"
With Akagi distracted, Kestrel was granted the briefest of reprieve. But it was also an opportunity for a familiar voice to buzz into her ear. "What the hell are you doing, Kestrel?! Engage the enemy and protect Mother Goose One!"
With silent acceptance, Kestrel gathered her resolve. Akagi glanced down in time to notice her enemy regain her footing, her jet fighters now taking to the skies to the howl of their engines. Potent implements, yet there was only four black birds. The Sakura carrier merely scoffed at her opponent's answer before summoning her own air power as a retort.
The two flocks rapidly ascended in the air: Zeroes meeting Tomcats. Tracers lanced out, hot lead spraying in a furious storm to swat down Kestrel's four black planes. Missiles slipped by in the opposite direction; when the two aircrafts met, they were met with a few short Zeroes. But in spite of the losses, they threw themselves upon the Tomcats with zeal. The jet fighters were swift but the danger was all around them, their very environment a treacherous terrain of bullets. Counterfire was conducted when possible, more Zeroes falling victim to air-to-air missiles.
The corner of Akagi's mouth curled with amusement. "Thrash with your paltry birds all you like. I have more!" With a triumphant call, fireballs materialized around her before shooting off towards Kestrel, more green-skinned Zeroes unsheathed from the flames.
Akagi had already borne witness to the power of fighter jets, with their unparalleled swiftness and missiles. She had no intention of making the same mistake from their first battle. The detachment of her air power sent to chase their raven prey were but mere distraction - her true objective was to strike at the carrier's very heart.
The hurtling planes pounced towards their target, depositing torpedoes from their undercarriage. Seeing the danger, Kestrel raked the sea with point-defense fire, a droning growl interspersed with deep booms of each successfully neutralized threat. But one managed to slip past unseen, striking a low blow to Kestrel.
With a smile, Akagi delivered more of her Zeroes coming from up high. Spotting them through her injury, the Federation carrier leapt into motion before a bomb fell. But the rest held fire in favor of hounding their prey; wherever Kestrel landed from her dodging, a bomb was loosed. The ensuing explosions rocked her around, singeing her wherever she went.
Now Akagi laughed. "Is this the power I was warned? The power I was told to fear? Last we met, I had assumed you were like the wretched Grey Ghost. But now… I see you are but a mere imitator too meek for war! I had expected so much more from a lookalike!"
The taunt brought no response from Kestrel, but as Akagi's air wing circled around for another bombing run missiles streaked across their path in a crisscross maze, the deaths of some of her Zeroes blunting the attempted attack as Kestrel's Tomcats returned to defend their owner. Akagi, who had indulged in her pretense, scowled with annoyance as she simply directed another squadron. But where she expected a repeat in tormenting the Federation carrier to her heart's content, Akagi found herself surprised by Kestrel's sudden charge forward. A missile from her solidified her defiance.
The Sakura kansen veered aside, incensed at having a contemptuous weapon fired upon her. Her scorn fueled her planes as they moved to attack, and Kestrel broke off into a run as they pursued her.
Akagi sneered at the retreat and so gave chase, joining her birds in the hunt. In the corner of her vision Kestrel took notice. Realizing the stare, Akagi braced as she witnessed another missile launched towards her, leaping back as it smashed into the sea where she once was. But Akagi's smile faded once a second unseen missile slithered from the mist.
She landed with a rough stagger, a blemish on her dress but an even bigger stain on her mind. Akagi glared furiously at the black-coated carrier as she glided over the waves, her anger meeting Kestrel's resolute look.
"How dare you…!" the vixen carrier spat.
The Silver Star Idol dashed off again before Akagi gave swift pursuit; if a challenge had been issued, it was now an insult for her to address.
The Sakura ship reached pace with Kestrel, matching and reacting to her movements like a mirror. Her furor materialized balls of fire by Akagi's side, some shooting off after her target like missiles of her own. Fire and danger surrounded the Silver Star Idol as Akagi tried to trap her.
With the scorching heat rising, Akagi did a dance of death among the flames. Her dark dress became one with the fire as it licked at the hems of Kestrel's coat and hair. The sea turned into a blaze of Akagi's design - this was her reign now.
And yet her opponent proved ever a dissident. What were once hordes of Zeroes that darkened the sky became thinned, scores of dark smoke and flaming refuse marking graves of so many of their compatriots as the dark agents of the opposing carrier remained ever persistent. Four black birds when the battle began, and four still remained, their missiles inflicting a bloody toll on her air power. Akagi willed the remainder to hunt them down, yet they persevered to affront her. And likewise, so did Kestrel herself, eluding her fury while whittling the vixen ship with opportunistic missile fire. Whether it was from her Tomcats or from her own rigging, Akagi found the attacks vexing. The tide had turned under her nose.
She snarled in frustration. It was time she stopped toying with her prey.
Brandishing balls of fire in the palms of her hands, Akagi presented the next threat with a crazed grin. Raising her hands, the fire merged, fusing into one conflagration that glowed like an inferno before the flames spread wide to reveal a giant phoenix. Kestrel gaped at the mystical yet awesome sight in its glow.
A grin spread wide across the Sakura carrier's visage. "Good riddance… charlatan!"
Before unleashing the kamikaze, Akagi made sure to get a good look at her foe. She wanted to capture her reaction, the look of awe, the feeling of imminent doom so felt by all those who feared the might of an inferno brought to life. She could recall how even the mighty Enterprise learned to dread it.
But where there would be an expression of fear, what Akagi got was something she never expected. A calm look, aware yet composed. How could she describe it? Determination? Dumbfounded ignorance? No, unlikely…
Was it… acceptance?
Even in the back of Akagi's mind, that possibility perplexed her the most.
But the subversion nevertheless was one final mockery to the Sakura carrier. The curious reaction was but a deprivation to what Akagi sought. And once she removed this wretched imitation, she would finally attain-
Then a missile stabbed into her back before another cut into her arm. Fire not her own caused Akagi to cry out in pain. The great phoenix, her contempt and enmity made manifest, suddenly flickered. It flared and waned, aware of the disruption. Through the flames, Akagi made out a raven-like plane dart overhead, a bird of black swooping away having done its deed. And the fire, its form now amorphous from the slimmest loss of focus, could no longer be contained. It was hurled from her hands, now free from her control, hurtling across the ocean-blue sky.
The fire spirit sailed through the air but without a target, it flew without purpose. The fire was great, but even it was not to last before it dissipated, the embers lost among the clouds of smoke in the sea of heavens.
Akagi staggered with a grunt, sputtering as she tried to stand on fatigued legs. In a moment of clarity she beheld a world choked with ash, her senses as clouded as her view. Cradling her injured arm, she seethed at the realization that she had lost: without a Zero in the air for her to command, only the howl of jet engines reigned supreme. The wounds that left her impotent only added insult to injury.
The fox grit her teeth as she fought the pain yet paused when the expected did not follow suit. She lifted her head, half-expecting another blow, a threat, a derision, or even a coup de grace to capitalize on her vulnerability.
Kestrel stood across from her. The distance between them remained aloof but enmity did not shine in her eyes. In the stillness that hung in the air, Akagi could hear Kestrel's breathing, heavy and weary. Just like her own.
The Federation carrier regained her breath. Her rigging retracted. "... Akagi, is it?"
The vixen ship in question spat. "Why do you want to know? So you can become my friend just because you spared me? After rendering me disarmed?"
"... Why do you fight? For what reason do you-"
"Spare me your tired compassion! A kansen of your caliber, asking why we all fight?! You truly are ignorant, foolish girl… No, you are worse than that. You are a hypocrite! You fight me, but you do not wish to destroy me, yet your wretched birds watch my every move from above while you preach of understanding and peace! Why do I fight… why do you fight?!"
To this, Kestrel remained silent.
Glancing upward, Akagi's spiteful glare softened. For once, a look of remorse graced her features. "Damn the ungrateful curs for taking you away… Savor this victory while it lasts, you naive ship. We will meet again…"
Shooting her opponent one last hateful stare, Akagi vanished in a puff of fire. She left without a trace, save for the ruined sea and the cruel words she left with Kestrel, lodged onto her like the grime and soot from their battle.
She took a moment to take a breath. "... Kestrel here. The enemy has retreated. Area is-"
"Hold it, Kestrel!" Andromeda cried out. "I got additional contacts on radar, multiple blips. You got bandits upon you!"
Kestrel whipped her view towards the sky. True to the intelligence vessel's warning, she sensed a new danger in the air. Her Tomcats that were already airborne could sense it too. They glided among the plumes of black smoke alert for the enemy, but the blare of alarms caught them by surprise. They sprung into rolling dives just as a series of arrow-like missiles sliced through the smoke past them. The Tomcats' black airframes emerged from the dark obscurant in time to catch a wing of Entente Flankers zipping by.
Kestrel's birds promptly circled around to engage as did the new bandits, F-14s in a tussle with Su-35s. Missiles shot out from both directions, streaks of white smoke cutting through black fumes. Although skilled like their owner, the Tomcats were no longer as eager and energetic as they were: after the battles with Chaplya and Akagi with no rest inbetween, Kestrel felt her strength sapped as their supply of missiles.
She shook her head, mustering her will. Exhausted or not, Kestrel would not back down from protecting the transport. She had a mission and she would see to it.
A bird was shot down: a Flanker. The remaining Entente planes continued to fight, the aerial arena playing host to yet another duel. The two breeds of warbirds swooped, banked, and circled up and down; some diving from up high while others slunk furtively below as they bided their time.
Kestrel directed the battle from below. Watching the enemy movements, she was intrigued by their machinations. If they were reinforcements that arrived late to support Chaplya and Akagi, why arrive with a paltry number? Why even arrive to a concluded battle at all?
The Flanker squadron remained dogged in their mission in spite of the losses they slowly accrued. Their formation steadily spread, expanding the boundaries of war across the skies, steering the fight to a new location. Kestrel focused on the air war, but gasped when she realized that the enemy squadron was flying closer and closer towards the transport plane that continued on its path.
Excited chatter began to trickle into her radio. "Aah! Oh give me a break!"
"Evasive maneuvers!" the man ordered. "Take us out of here at full speed!"
The Flankers continued the game of chase and flee, hurtling off with reckless abandon. Fight or flight, they made no attempt to heed the civilian craft that wandered nearby, its great glimmering wings no camouflage to the war-torn oceans. The transport plane lumbered in its evasive turn, and Kestrel was determined to see to its safety.
And to do that, she had to end this wicked game as soon as possible.
"Mother Goose One, don't panic. I will protect you, no matter what."
The Tomcats answered the Flankers' speed with their own. Their wings retracted back, Kestrel's four ravens transforming into arrowheads to seek the enemy. And like arrows they bolted after their prey, their remaining missiles singing a firm hymn; and when they were not enough, gunfire enforced the message with bursts of resolve.
Another Entente Su-35 was hit, the rest scrambling in response. Their flying became more erratic, more chaotic, more unhinged as the remaining enemy birds continued their single-minded desire to fight in spite of the skewed circumstances. Their heedless, almost suicidal tactic put Kestrel in disbelief.
The exchange of missile volley became intense, the Flankers exploiting their fresh supply over the Tomcats. Kestrel carefully navigated the dangerous web with grim tenacity, guiding her planes like delicate daggers.
A missile slipped through the hazy veil but Kestrel jinked. It slithered past, leaving her immediate mind, but tracing its smoky trail in the corner of her eye a chill went down Kestrel's spine.
The missile, spent and disposed as easily as all others before it, inadvertently veered towards the twin-engined transport plane. Kestrel did not hesitate to divert a plane after it, to catch the deadly projectile before it could-
But it was too late. The missile, deprived of its intended target and left to wander aimlessly, wandered close by Mother Goose One and detonated in midair. Though the horrific coincidence met a close premature end, the worries did not end there. They had only just begun.
The explosion barely reached the transport plane, but the fiery blast made the craft jolt and shudder. A yelp nearly froze Kestrel's veins as she watched as Mother Goose One banked… and stayed that way as the nose gently tilted down.
"Mother Goose One's been hit!"
"No!"
Kestrel bolted after the cargo plane that now trailed an oily wound in its wake. The battle forgotten, her eyes were glued solely to the limping transport plane as she chased after it, her breath already short with her heart palpitating loudly in her chest. She spotted no flame from an engine, but Kestrel had no way to determine the severity of the plane's injury.
Grievous or not, the great bird was destined to fall to earth.
"... still airborne, but the cockpit looks damaged," Andromeda reported. So gripped was Kestrel to the moment that she had been oblivious to the intelligence vessel's worried updates.
"Mother Goose One, report your status!" Kestrel cried out, her pleas desperate for an answer. "Mother Goose One, respond! Can you hear me?"
"Please, answer!"
"..."
"... This is- this is Mother Goose One… I'm here."
It was the man's voice again.
"…Tommy's hurt… we're without a pilot. Listing's severe and we're losing altitude. The controls look fine but… I've never piloted a plane before…"
Kestrel thought quickly. There was something she could do. From that moment hope flourished back.
"Sir?"
"Er, yes?"
"Time is short, so listen closely," she spoke, her tone as calm as she could make it. "I need you to find the pilot's stick and grasp it firmly."
"Stick? Looks more like a wheel… Rgh. Okay, I think I- I think I got it!"
"Hold it as still as you can," Kestrel instructed. "Next, I need you to decrease your speed and lower your flaps."
"Okay. Decrease my speed…" the man repeated in a hurried murmur. "It's one of the big levers, is it?"
"There should be one beside the seat, in the center," Kestrel assured. "Pull it back but not too quickly and not too far: halfway."
"Pull halfway… okay, got it. And what about the flaps?"
"They should be on the pilot's console," the carrier quickly explained. "A small lever."
"Small lever…?" The man sighed. "There's a ton of switches. Which one would it be?"
Kestrel tried to think. "It should be labelled. Keep searching."
"Trying… Where could it be…? Starting to question why there's so many buttons in the first place."
"Try to remain calm." As much as she directed it for the one she was helping, Kestrel felt it was as much for her as it was for him. "You can do this."
"Calm? You should see who I had to work with," the man joked. "... I-I think I found it. It says 'Flaps'!"
Another piece of anxiousness was lifted from her shoulders as Kestrel caught the rudders shift. Up close now, she couldn't have missed it. The plane's descent grinded with the faint groan of the airframe. It slowed, but it was still destined for the depths.
"Alright. Now I want you to do two things: pull the pilot's wheel towards while turning it level. That will correct your course!"
"Okay. Here we…" An audible grunt was heard as Kestrel watched the large plane continue its slow flight down. "...! Awfully stiff! I can barely budge it."
"Keep trying!" the carrier implored. "Concentrate on the pull!"
"Rgh… Agh!... C'mon!..."
A great shadow draped over Kestrel as she stared captivated. So engrossed she was in watching with bated breath that she slowed to a stop. The wind carried the roar of the propeller engines as the entire craft strained in its perilous journey.
The shadow passed by, the great bird continuing to glide overhead.
And it remained flying.
And like a dream that came true, Kestrel saw the cargo plane ascend in a majestic recovery. Her faith had rewarded the day with the sight of Mother Goose One gradually raise its nose, its long wings regained in level flight.
The tension finally broke, and apprehension finally flooded with sweeping relief. The breath locked tight within Kestrel was now released as a relieved cheer. "You did it… You did it!"
The cargo of the plane could hardly contain his own exhilaration as he witnessed his momentous occasion. "I… Holy hell, I did it!"
"Mother Goose One, you're regaining altitude!" the Federation carrier triumphantly reported.
A chuckle was heard. "I think I'm getting the hang of this."
As Kestrel tracked the transport climb, Andromeda's voice brought her back to the present. "Confirmed Mother Goose One remains airborne and safe. The bandits actually peeled off after that hit. AO is cleared now. Mother Goose One, status?"
"My status? Well, I'm feeling a little excited now," the man reported. "Just need to regain my bearings and find a safe place to land. Is there somewhere I can touch down?"
"Back under the sea if you like!" a loud threat barked.
Kestrel whirled around and was stunned to find herself facing a new, unlikely threat she had ever faced and had the misfortune of knowing: Barbet - her commanding officer in the flesh. Out at sea, she now bore her own carrier rigging not dissimilar from Kestrel or her sisters' as standard implements of the Silver Star Federation maritime aviation force. But where the wings would bring victory and assurance, Barbet's brought with them a sense of dread. The symbol of protection was mired by the stern look of her captain.
And what surprised Kestrel - and made her dread all the more - was the presence of a grand armada that assembled behind Barbet. They stretched like wings that with armed weapons and rigid looks harbored only foreboding intent.
Kestrel gaped at the unexpected fleet, hesitant to think of them as reinforcements. "Barbet? When did you-"
"Do you expect me to explain myself for bringing in support?" her superior crassly demanded. "And here I thought you'd give me your thanks for once."
The silver-haired ship looked down. "I…"
"Well good job on neutralizing the threats," Barbet continued, her compliment hollow. "Now stand aside while I take it from here.
"Mother Goose One, this is Barbet of the Silver Star Federation! You are now trespassing combat airspace. I order you to turn back now!"
"Oh come on now," the man griped. "I'm flying half a plane here."
"You'll be flying less the longer you remain!" Barbet argued. "Turn around and exit the area now! You are not safe here!"
"But what about-"
"I can switch your IFF to hostile real quick, boy. Don't test me," the Federation leader growled as her rigging twitched ominously. Kestrel gaped aghast at her superior, Andromeda doing the same unbeknownst to her on the other end. Now she realized what Barbet and the reinforcements were here for. A sinking feeling twisted a knot in her stomach.
A moment of silence punctuated drew the tension taut before Mother Goose One relented. "... Fine. I'm- er, Mother Goose One heading home. Uh, if I may, can I be shown the way back? After everything that's happened, I lost my bearings."
Barbet sighed. "So be it. Kestrel, show our unneeded guest the door."
Ignoring the remark, the carrier was more than content to oblige. "Mother Goose One, please turn the plane until you are facing west-southwest. Gently turn the stick; I will let you know when to stop."
Slowly the twin-engined aircraft slowly turned, banking into a gradual curve. A certain caution and hesitance was present in the plane's movement as it trundled but Kestrel could see they were gentle and considerate. Slowly but surely the plane gracefully turned.
"That's it. Now level the craft and proceed straight. I'll guide your way back."
"Thanks," the man replied. Kestrel sensed a small smile on his face as he said it. With course acquired, Kestrel sailed off alongside the cargo plane, matching its pace for a serene voyage. Gliding through the site of ferocious battle, she kept a watchful eye on the plane.
The man continued. "You know, if I ever get the chance, maybe I should grab a pilot's license. I think I can earn one now thanks to you."
"I… I'm glad to hear that," the carrier shyly thanked.
"Hm. I think you'd make a great teacher. You do have a pretty voice."
Now Kestrel felt the heat rising in her cheeks. "T-thank you, sir."
"'Sir'? Oh please, I don't look like one. No need to be so formal, uh…"
"Kestrel," the ship replied.
"Right, I forgot. I'll make sure to remember. I wouldn't dare forget the name of the pretty woman who saw me to safety."
As much as she blushed, Kestrel couldn't help but take pride in that compliment. "And… what about yours? May I learn the name of the man who was kind to give such praise?"
"I… Uhh… John…?"
"John?" Kestrel repeated.
"Sorry to disappoint you but I'm kinda shy," the man confessed with a barely suppressed snicker. "Doesn't help that I am rather important… Too important, you might say. When I said I was the cargo, I wasn't kidding."
"Very well… Mr. Cargo," Kestrel replied, stifling a giggle.
The man shared the good humor over the radio. By now the smoky sky and murky waters were nowhere to be seen. The sun shone brilliantly over their heads and the seas seemed brighter than ever before.
Kestrel held her silence in respect to the shining ocean and even the chatter died down as if he too acknowledged the tranquil beauty of the world. The moment lasted until he spoke again.
"... Kestrel, I wanted to thank you for protecting us. If it weren't for you…"
"Think nothing of it," she replied softly. "Anyone would've done the same in my place…"
"When we got hit, my heart almost stopped... In that instant, I thought I was done for; I thought this would be it… I don't say this to most ships, but I was actually scared. I'm always afraid of being in a situation that I can't do anything about, and being stuck in that metal can about to crash… I really thought I was about to die.
"But I didn't. When I heard your voice calmly telling me what to do, it helped calm me down. It helped me realize there were things I could do, even if I didn't know how to do it. And when I did, I stopped being afraid.
"So when I said you have a lovely voice… I meant it. I have it - and you - to thank for."
So touched was Kestrel that she struggled to find the suitable words to answer back. Her heart sought a response, but she found herself taken aback by the man's sincerity. In the end, only her warm silence honored his heartfelt words.
To Mother Goose One, words weren't needed. A compassionate kansen's heart was already understood.
"Mr. Cargo, I've got a question I'd like to ask you."
"What is it?"
Kestrel considered her words. She thought back to everything up to this point: the battles she faced, the people she met on either side, the world that she was to be a part of.
"... Is it possible for peace to flourish even in a time of war? Where even the coldest heart can find warmth?"
The man pondered. "I like to think so. No war can last forever and no one can hold onto enmity forever; all hearts are human after all. If there was a reason this war started, then there'll be a way for it to end."
The Federation carrier sighed. "Yes. I hope so too. I want to believe that no hatred exists between friends, that us ships in the shape of man are human enough to desire peace - even in the cruelest of hearts. I am, like all the others, born a weapon. But I know there is more to us than that; a life beyond our duty that I know exists.
"And if you are who I believe you are… then I know you will find a way to bring peace to your world. I will put my faith in you as all the others have."
"... Likewise," the man reciprocated warmly.
Kestrel continued to escort the lumbering aircraft across pleasant skies until she heard a small hum over the radio. "Tommy?... Hey, you're all right now! Don't worry, everything's under control…
"Well, looks like I got my pilot back. I think we'll be able to fly back home on our own from here. Thanks for the safe trip, Kestrel."
"Wait. There's one more thing."
"Hm?"
"The others," she said. "The ones you came here for… They're in good hands. My sisters and I will make sure they return home safely."
"... I see. Thank you. Farewell, Kestrel."
"And farewell to you too, Mr. Cargo…"
The great plane thundered ahead, now overtaking the lone carrier as she slowed to a stop to see them off. The great wings cast a wide shadow over the waves, it and the craft let go for its journey home. Kestrel watched as Mother Goose One vanished into the horizon, where it will soon vanish from this world to return to its own.
She gazed its departure with a sigh. She had wished the outcome had changed, to allow their unexpected visitor to touch down on Federation lands. To be welcomed and valued. But a part of Kestrel feared for his arrival into this war, worried that it would suck him in like a whirlpool. A potentially worthy ally, no doubt, but an unintended - and perhaps unwilling - participant of this war.
Kestrel knew he already had his own burdens to shoulder.
But there was hope still. She knew his words held truth: that there will be an end to war. She took comfort in the man's parting words, to know she was not alone in her beliefs. It was that conviction that would beat strong in her soul, to give her strength through any ordeal. Kestrel had no doubt that the war would indeed end and that peace will be restored, when friends who had become enemies can return to being friends once more.
And she had no doubt that her friends in the Azur Lane would be grateful to hear his words too.
The Silver Star Idol roused herself from her idealistic daydreams to check her radar. All clear; nothing for miles. The danger had long departed yet Kestrel wondered what the enemy had intended with the transport: capture it as Akagi wished - or bring it down like what the Entente wanted?
Kestrel turned her head, content to return home. She will have time to churn the questions over in her mind but for now, the worst was over. Perhaps once she returned for a debrief she-
She stopped. Her eyes jumped back to a sight skimmed past, blinking. Did her eyes fool her just now or…?
Kestrel peered closer. No, they didn't. Off to the side, in the distance where a sprinkle of rocks jutted from the gleaming surface, a peculiarity stood out to her. Nearly blending in among the rocks, Kestrel was surprised to discover a distant figure, standing as if a lone sentinel. But for what purpose, and who it was, Kestrel could only guess.
The questions only begged her to investigate.
She surged towards the rocks, keeping her eyes on the unknown figure… a person. A woman; a ship like herself? Here? But with no confirmed contact on her HUD, she could not be certain.
As Kestrel came close, she barely spied out contraptions by the woman's side. Rigging, like any kansen, but it was… unusual. Strange, unlike anything she has seen before. She could not make out details but the silhouette was unrecognizable. With its vaguely sharp lines and rigid nonconforming outlines, Kestrel wasn't sure if it was even conventional.
Kestrel tried to draw herself closer but it was then that the woman stirred, her head snapping towards her. She instantly felt a tingle down her spine of a gaze met. But Kestrel knew it was no mere stare: the woman's eyes gleamed with malignance.
The figure bolt, leaping behind the rocks, tails of a long dark coat and her equally long hair whipping behind her. Kestrel dashed after the figure, half-tempted to dispatched her air wing once more to get a bead on the woman, the continued absence of her presence on her HUD mystifying her.
The carrier reached the outcrop, leaping atop with a great leap and an anxious drive, ready to catch sight of the mysterious person until…
Kestrel stopped. Alone on the rocks, she discovered that she was alone at sea. The skies clear and the horizons clean. She glanced at her radar and her other eyes turned up negative.
The woman was nowhere to be seen.
The woman in gray, with yellow stripes. A ship of no discernible allegiance.
But the face…
So captivated she was in her own thoughts that the buzzing in her ear made her jolt.
"Kestrel, you're still lingering in the AO. Is something the matter?" Andromeda asked.
"I… I don't know," Kestrel replied. "I saw someone just now that suddenly vanished."
"Vanished? What do you mean?"
"I'll explain everything. I'm heading back."
As Kestrel retreated, the once serene farewell dimmed in mood. The winds sweeping by her armature wings felt colder as she took earnest flight, new thoughts and questions gripping her mind. What this chance encounter meant, Kestrel could only feel an ominous implication.
Who was she? Why did she hastily flee? Was she involved with today's incident, so close and furtive to the scene? Was she working with the Verusan Entente… or for another entity?
But what disturbed her the most was possibly knowing who that mysterious woman was. The woman in gray, with coat and hair that draped like a ghost of the past.
Her past.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Figured it's appropriate to include a particular mission from Ace Combat 5 into the story arc that is about that game, albeit with some artistic liberties. The idea for this chapter was originally not something I had planned in preliminary drafts but got inspired to add it in after remembering that there was a mission in AC5 where you escorted Mother Goose One. At first, I considered having Brooklyn be the role of MGO in an attempt to help negotiate a ceasefire with the Verusan Entente at Megafloat before I changed my mind since I couldn't think of a lasting reason for her to disappear (if she had been kidnapped like Harling which means I would need a good in-story reason for everyone to accept her prolonged absence). Of course, MGO here doesn't land and get kidnapped either (so no 8492 unfortunately) since this chapter was something I hadn't thought of during early planning so I hadn't altered later events to incorporate the new inclusion. Oh and you might have already figured out who the cargo was.
On a semi-related note, the scene where Kestrel talks over how to avoid crashing to Mr. Cargo could have just him pull the plane up but I felt that was too short and wouldn't be dramatic enough. Him needing to lower his airspeed was a direct reference to how Nagase instructed MGO to lower his plane's airspeed for an emergency landing, although here it's in a different context. I figured that Mr. Cargo here needed to lower his airspeed before turning so that the plane doesn't break apart at the speed he was going in.
Now, next chapter: things will steadily heat up now that the mysterious person (who shall remained unnamed until the proper moment arrives for a reveal) has been seen. And things are only going to get more intense once we get to the real meat of AC5 missions to bring into writing.
