Hey guys, sorry for the long update but I had some problems at home. Finally got some ideas together and managed to crank this chapter out. I want to thank all of you for your prayers and for your comments and messages. I may not have the most reviews on Fanfiction and DA but I do know that these are those who like my stories even if they choose not to comment. To those of you out there, I thank you.
Now then, onto the story.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 26: Battle of White Sands Part 1
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Joshua stood at his usual post on the Beowulf, watching the landing craft and supply ships constantly moving back and forth from the liberated port of Broken Anchor. It had been two weeks since the landing operation and he could sense that the crew of the ship and, most probably the crews of his squadron, were getting restless. He himself had managed to pass the time by painting group portraits of the crews from memory and even doing some single portraits for some of the crew and officers.
Naturally some of his crew wanted to pay him for his art but he declined their offers. He understood that aboard a ship, the crew is family, and family does things for each other that do not require payment. Besides...
...he knew that if his Mother heard that he was selling art he had made for his crew, she'd scale him alive and salt the wounds.
Most of his paintings were safely tucked away in a special art case he had brought aboard while he was on duty but the minute he was off, out came the eisel, the brushes, the paints, and the unfinished works or a new 'virgin' canvas. While on watch, he gazed in the direction of the escort carrier Bastion and spied the bright red plane on her deck and couldn't help but allow the old amazement to enter his mind.
Not three hours after the landing was deemed a success, a red plane bearing Callinian markings comes on the radio requesting permission to land. After some back and forth bantering, the pilot finally identified himself as Gerald Ross. A name which caused damn near everyone on the carrier, Reyson's still patroling squadron, and even Josh himself to swear so brilliently that many young sailors, yeomen, and ensigns blushed with amazement. Master Chief Barnes moved to cover his daughter's ears but she shook her head, laughing uproarously at Joshua's expression of sheer shock and disbelief.
Syllian records stated that Gerald Ross had been killed during a freak accident during the Callinar Incursion when a plane he was flying was mistaken for a Tellanian plane and shot down. Though protests to the firing upon of a Syllian soldier and airplane were raised, no one pursued the issue, not even Joshua's father. Once the plane landed on the deck and the canopy opened, everyone on the carrier was greeted by a in fact still living Gerald Ross who, after he landed, was embraced by Reyson as a long-lost brother. Gerald had spent the next day regailing the sailors, officers, and pilots of the carrier the story of how he went from a volunteer pilot, under the name Lance Holden, for Callinar's fledgling air force, to fighter ace during the Callinian Incursion, the reason he was listed as KIA, and what his actions so far had been. Josh still couldn't believe it.
(Gerald Ross, the Crimson Tide of Callinar. The most decorated, celebrated, and honored pilot in the history of the Callinar Islands, was also a spy for Syllian Intelligence as well as for my Father...I wonder why he never said anything?)
Of course Josh knew the answer to that. If James had let it become public knowledge that Gerald Ross was alive and that he was acting on the behalf of Syllia, Callinar would have tore itself apart looking for him and then shipped him off to Rotiart for interrogation.
Followed by a spy's trial and summary execution.
The crew on the flight deck were repainting the plane to match Syllian markings although they kept the red paint job as per Gerald's request and Reyson's orders. With Callinar no longer in the war it made no sense to detain him as an enemy. Even less once James had contacted the Fleet Admiral and gave him orders to allow Gerald to fly with Reyson's squadron or lead his own if he so wished. There was, in fact, no shortage of eager young men and women who wanted to fly with Gerald Ross simply for the fact that he was a living legend.
Where as Reyson had become the Blue Knight of Syllia as well as the first ever fighter Ace of Aces, Gerald had become the Crimson Tide of Callinar and had become the greatest Ace of Aces. Joshua chuckled as he thought of something.
(Reyson Havvers, Gerald Ross, Bertram de Launces, and Dieter Muntz in the same fighter group. God save us and help our foes if THAT should ever come about...)
It was a joke meant to relieve tension but still, he knew that the enemy would be genuinely afraid if confronted with a wing of nothing but aces. Reyson Havvers was an incredible killer in the air, having downed some twenty enemy fighters and bombers the day of the invasion and several more in the days since. Gerald Ross had experience and basically stood out like a clown at a funeral. His brightly colored plane scared off more enemy pilots than the enemy would have liked to admit. The simple fact was that no one wanted to test their mettle against the Crimson Tide.
Bertram had made a sizable impact and was one of Syllia's highest scoring aces. On top of that, he was the only pilot in the RAF who had apparently angered the Rotarian leadership enough that they put a bounty on his head.
Dieter Muntz, the Rotarian's prize pilot, the so-called 'Black Knight of Gotha' was the world's first ever jet fighter ace and held an intimate knowledge of Rotarian decryption codes, ciphers, base locations, troop strengths, formation and squadron tactics. The news of his defection had brought an immense sigh of relief from Gerald as well as all the other pilots. Still, news that the 'Butcher of Chamberlain', Alfred Marks, had become the top ace had everyone on their toes.
Joshua looked at the clock on the bridge and then checked his watch and smiled.
"XO, please sound the watch change." Anne nodded to him and keyed the PA system.
"All stations, relieve the watch. Repeat: relieve the watch."
No sooner were the crew relaxing when an alarm blared from one of the fleet cariers nearby and the bridge phone rang. Joshua picked it up and heard Cal railing off what sounded like fifty words a second.
"Cal, calm down, take a deep breath. Close your eyes and count slowly back from twenty." Anne looked up from where she was and glanced at Cal.
"Uh, Captain, that's supposed to help when you're angry. Not frantic." Josh rolled his eyes and then listened as Cal took several deep breaths to steady himself.
"Captain, a distress call from a destroyer on patrol near White Sands. A magnetic mine has disabled their engines and their radar is detecting a small fleet approaching their position. The operators over there say the shadows on the radar look like six, maybe seven vessels, and the sonar says that each vessel is either a triple or quad screw meaning battlecruiser or heavier."
"What are the chances the enemy has deployed a carrier support fleet?"
"Next to zero. None of the shadows seemed carrier-sized although...hold on a moment...There!" Josh listened to the phone but became annoyed at the silence.
"There what Petty Officer Calvin?" The sound of his name and rank made the sailor stammer but then recover.
"Came across a report this morning from a sub on patrol near that area. Sonar reported hearing a strange new noise, sounded like six screws. It was later folloewed by several single and double screw vessels followed by splashes the sub thought was depthcharges and it fled the area. Must have been the mines they were dropping. Still, we don't have a six-screw vessel on any of our charts. Could be a new enemy vessel?" Josh set the phone down and turned to Anne.
"Radio the Bastion. Tell them to send a flight up to find our lost destroyer and see what in the world is going on over there. I have a feeling that Rotiart might be trying to sneak behind us." Anne nodded but then turned to him.
"Rotiart, sir? Why not Damoneni's navy?" Josh opened a map and then pointed to Damoneni.
"Because all of Damoneni's major ports are to the south of us, with the exception of the gulf ports. The only way they could have gotten a fleet there in the short amount of time is either they somehow managed to dodge Praetoria, Anozira, and Espan by sailing through the gulf and up the Mont Blanc Channel, all the while within spitting distance of all three nations and within eyesight of three of Espan's largest ports. When you look at the map, Rotiart is the only option." Anne nodded and then relayed the orders to the Bastion. Moments later, Reyson and Gerald's squadrons were airborne and headed towards the destroyer's last reported location.
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Because of the possibility that there were enemy ships in the area, as well as a carrier, Gerald's squadron was equipped with an assortment of weapons. He had been assigned a squadron of twelve planes and of those, three, his own included, had been refitted with Syllian 30 and 25mm cannons called 'ship caliber cannons', meaning they had the firepower to sink a ship, any ship, so long as it was less armored than a cruiser.
The next three were armed with new 'Armor-Piercing Rockets'. Special rockets designed for naval use in combating medium ships such as cruisers, battlecruisers, and escort carriers. After those were another three, these armed with new Syllian Mark 12 Aerial Torpedoes meant to sink battleships. The last were armed with 750lb aerial bombs meant to disable carrier operations by destroying the deck, thus denying it the ability to launch or retrieve aircraft. The squadron that Gerald was going with, Reyson's, was all equipped to be the fighter escort for them.
Down below, Gerald could also see the Beowulf and it's squadron changing course and setting sail for the lost destroyer's location.
(Well, let's just hope that all's well when we get there. Then again, how often has THAT ever happened to ME?) Gerald thought as he went through his aerial checklist and then keyed his radio.
"Comms check. Comms check. This is Red 1, all planes sound off."
"Red 2, in formation sir!"
"Red 3, on your left!"
"Red 4, on 3's left!"
"Red 5, on 2's right!"
"Red 6, on your six Captain!"
"Red 1 this is Blue Section reporting in, we are flying behind and above you and ready for your orders."
"Red 1 this is Warbird Squadron, we will be flying escort for you. Our job will be to keep enemy planes, if any, off of you while you guys go have some fun." Gerald couldn't help but chuckled at Reyson's depressed voice.
"What's the matter Rey? Disappointed you don't get to play in traffic?"
"Hell, no. You guys are the ones who'll be getting your asses shot off, I'm just here to make sure you actually GET to your targets." Gerald laughed, as did his squadron.
"Red 1, Red 4 here. Uh, Captain? Any advice for us rookies?" Gerald looked at the rookie's plane and then sighed.
"Yeah, in my experience a pilot must adhere to three rules. Rule number 1: Never fly a straight line. Make the enemy work to get a bead on you. As the people of the Blue Isles say, 'Be nimble like the reed, not rigid like the tree'. Rule number 2: Mind your ammo. When you engage an enemy, fire in short bursts so that the guns won't overheat and that you won't expend all your ammo in one go. Finally, Rule 3 and kids, this is the big one. Rule 3: Incoming fire has the right of way. You come under fire, flip on your back and dive for the deck. You don't evade, you can kiss your ass goodbye." Gerald listened to the recruits for a moment and then sighed and keyed the radio again.
"There is also an unspoken Rule 4. It is unspoken because it addresses something that is so damn stupid no pilot worth his wings would ever consider it. Rule 4: Don't be a hero. That means no single straffing runs on ships or ground forces, no breaking formation to chase tail, no going after bug outs or parachutes, and absolutely no glory-seeking. You want to come home with a chest full of medals? Transfer to the Army or the Marines. In the air, the lighter you are, the faster you are. Speed is life, the fast live, the slow die. Everything depends on how fast you can get behind the enemy and how fast you can pull the trigger." The same pilot from before spoke again.
"Not very inspirational, sir. I-If you'll pardon me for saying so, sir."
"No offense pilot. But, you want inspiration? Read a poem." Reyson came on the radio laughing.
"Now where have I heard that before?" Gerald chuckled.
"My father once told you the same thing if I recall correctly. I believe you were working with James trying to improve the rail lines in Launces." Again laughter.
"Yeah...those were the days...heads up! Bandits! Eleven 'o clock high! Warbird Squadron engaging, Red and Blue Sections, dive for the deck and stay out of the fight! Gerald, protect your nuggets!" Gerald nodded and checked his left and right wings.
"No problems there. Listen up, all nuggets, you stay glued to my tail and whatever you do, don't slow down! We're going full bore into the abyss!"
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Alarms blared on the Beowulf as the AA gunners ran to their posts and started lobbing flak shells into the air. At the same time the Bastion was launching all remaining fighters and, as per standard operating procedure, the Aurora, Minotaur, Minerva, Solent, Beowulf, and the latest addition, the Raven-class destroyer RNV Tribal were taking up escort formations around their carrier. The Beowulf took the lead position, Tribal and Minerva took the starboard side, Aurora and Solent took the port side, and Minotaur took the rear.
Also by SOP, the destroyers now had their sonar active and the cruisers readied their anti-sub planes in the event they were needed. Josh spared a moment to go onto the port lookout position to see contrails in the sky where the planes were closing in on one another and gazed to the left. The Royal Navy Ensign, a blue and white flag with a red cross dead center fluttered in the breeze. At first call to stations, the crew hastily lowered the 'at anchor' flag and hoisted the Ensign for all to see. Naturally, as the Beowulf was the flagship of the squadron, it would raise not only the Ensign but also have the Squadron's flag flying beneath it. The Squadron's flag was a solid blue with the emblem of an anchor with a crossed rifle and cutlass, with an albatross perched upon the anchor. Not the most elaborate of the Navy's emblems but it was unique.
Already the Squadron had a reputation for being ready for anything and always getting the job done. One reason that the Captain and crew of the Tribal had requested assignment to this unit. It was already common knowledge that Joshua had been the Captain that sunk a supership while commanding a destroyer.
The report of the 25mm and 40mm anti-air guns got his attention as the gunners fired into the incoming swarm of aircraft. With the binoculars, he managed to spy one of the planes as it zipped by.
A grey and black diamond and a black and orange triangle were the markings he spotted.
"XO, alert all vessels, the enemy planes are Rotarian. There is most likely a carrier nearby. Have we heard anything from that missing destroyer yet?" Anne shook her head but a moment later the radar operator shot his hand up.
"Radar contact bearing 322! Range, fifteen miles! Coordinates confirm as the last known position of the destroyer escort RNV Lion." Josh nodded and then grabbed the bridge phone.
"Comms, this is the Captain, unknown radar target bearing 322, fifteen miles out. Believed to be Lion, DE-113. Patch me into the radio communications." Joshua watched as the light on the bridge comms phone turned from green to red and then to blue. He then keyed the phone.
"Attention, RNV Lion, this is the RNV Beowulf of the Syllian Navy, Combat Squadron 211. We are responding to your distress call. Does anyone copy?"
...
...
Silence.
Joshua waited and then repeated the message over the channel.
...
...
Again silence.
Joshua sighed and then looked to Anne who looked worried.
"Attention RNV Lion, this is Commander Joshua de Launces of the RNV Beowulf, I am taking your failure to answer as an emergency situation, standby and prepare to be boarded." Joshua immediately switched channels to the fleet communications.
"Tribal, this is Beowulf. The Lion has failed to respond to our hailing calls and may be in extreme distress. Take the Solent with you for cover and board the vessel to see if they need any assistance."
Josh glanced at the destroyer in the distance and then gazed upwards toward the aircraft fighting overhead. Though he knew in his heart that these were carrier-borne aircraft, he hoped that this was not the case.
The fact was, his squadron was not equipped to deal with a heavy carrier support fleet.
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Gerald couldn't help but admire the way Reyson's squadron cut through the Rotarian planes. Then again, he had often remarks to his Callinian comrades that Rotiart's main aerial strength lies in their ground-based planes and not their carrier-fleets. Rotiart had no carriers that could match Callinar much less Syllia and their carrier airfleet, in light of the successes of the land based RAAF, seemed somewhat stagnant and still.
He scanned the waters and spotted the disabled destroyer as well as the two vessels from the Beowulf's squadron moving to assist and kept an eye out around the group for anything out of the ordinary. Then, off in the distance, he spotted a cloud of black smoke and it was coming closer. Hurriedly, he keyed his radio to the Navy frequency.
"This is Gerald Ross to RNV Beowulf, get those destroyers out of there! Enemy battle formation inbound! They're shrouded by smoke but I can make the outline of a carrier and one, maybe two, battlecruisers!
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(Meanwhile, in Syllia)
Albert Reed was sitting in the drawing room of the Workshop, agonizing over a set of blueprints that he had made long ago and yet, now the prototype was gone. The blueprints were for a new type of aircraft carrier that would have equalled, if not outright surpassed, all current Syllian designs. The carrier had already been half-way built and had also been named.
'New Horizon'
There was a knock on the door and an out of breath Xavier stumbled in holding a radio intercept from Syllian Intelligence. Behind his were two agents of that same said agency, expressions grim. Albert looked to his brother and then to the men.
"Yes? Can I help you with anything gentlemen?" One of the agents nodded.
"Mr. Reed, you recently heard of the loss of Port Grand Vista, correct?" Albert nodded grimly.
It was all over the news. Two days ago, Grand Vista, the birthplace of the Federal Navy, stopped transmitting all communications and assurances that they were still holding fast. The very next day, a Resistance cell released a chilling announcement.
Rotiart has dropped a Ragnarok bomb on Grand Vista.
Almost on the heels of this was a message from Rotiart stating that all resistance will be met with the same fate. All nations wishing to avoid this fate, surrender immediately. To say that James had been shocked was an understatement. Word was that his son, Bertram, and his squadron were put on the Intercept list since their new aircraft were the only ones capable of intercepting the large bombers carrying the frightening new terror weapons. Albert was curious as to why the agents were curious about this when Xavier handed him the radio intercept.
COMBAT ORDERS: 1ST FLEET, CARRIER GROUP 4.
SAIL TO WHITE SANDS AND ENGAGE THE ENEMY. NEU HORIZONT WILL JOIN SHORTLY. ESCORT WILL INCLUDE TWO TYRANN-CLASS BATTLECRUISERS.
BATTLE GROUP 211 BELIEVED TO BE IN VISCINITY.
PROTECT CARRIERS AT ALL COSTS. ENSURE DESTRUCTION OF ENEMY FLAGSHIP 'RNV BEOWULF.
Albert looked stunned and back to the agents.
"Has-" They nodded.
"Their Majesties have been informed and issued the call-back order but alas the 211 had already sailed. The fleet at Broken anchor has dispatched a reinforcement fleet to assist them but they will not arrive for some time. Also, a carrier force from the Blue Isles recieved the call and is making all speed to the battle site."
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Joshua saw the smoke cloud where Gerald had spotted it and ordered all crew to anti-ship combat stations. The helmsman turned the rudder hard to starboard, engines went to battle speed, and the turrets all shifted to the starboard side in preparation to fire a broadside at the earliest possible moment. He steeled himself for what was to come. Though he'd been in battle before, this was his first time commanding a fleet action.
(God help us...)
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Okay, I know it's a little short but I'm still dealing with fragmented notes here. My nephews decided to play with my notebooks that I keep my ideas in and now I can't find them. Shouldn't take too long though so please be patient.