Chapter 1: Moments That Changes Everything
Humanity always sought new things. They have continued to search for a reason to keep ourselves intact and sane, growing towards the reason for our living. They have progressed far from the Industrial Revolution, in all manners and aspects. Yet they did not see where the new things, the unknowns we explored, would lead us all.
Even with the most advanced technologies of the 2040s, no one foresaw nor expected their arrival as they shook the world, turning small boats not dust, and leaving huge fleets ablaze a few seconds after seeing them, leaving no sailor surviving to retell the horrendous experience back to those who ordered them to their untimely deaths. Most of the ocean and the airspace above them fell to these unwelcome invaders in a matter of days, as humanity's newfound enemy that they called "The Sirens," pushed most human activity back to the land without ever knowing what they are and why they arrived, aside from the fact that they were destructively strong and that they don't hold their cunning strategies back when they "play" with humans.
By 2045, only a few sections of the Earth's waters remain relatively safe from these creatures, save a few ambushes which are few and far between, and were focused a few kilometers from the borders of the world's remaining naval forces: the United States, United Kingdom, France, Germany, Italy, Russia, China, and Japan. However, most of these countries cannot hold their coastlines longer as they continuously make the mistake of sending their ships out to the open and attempt finding anything with regards to the Sirens, with screams of sailors and the sound of explosion and static be the only things they hear a few moments later, and undoubtedly leaving the Siren ships not even a scratch nor dent in their hulls.
With the threat dictating them that human extinction is just around the corner, a desperate move by the United Nations Security Council came to a resolution for the US to build its best fleet from scratch, with the standing members of the council to shell out funding for the so-called "Operation Goalpost," aiming to bring back samples of at least one destroyed Siren ship which will be a considerable feat among the superpowers and a major step towards the eradication of these alien species.
The initiative gave rise to a fully nuclear fleet of six destroyers, four corvettes, five frigates and cruisers, and one aircraft carrier, giving them power without need for refueling good for a hundred years. The flagship for the operation, USS Aquarius (CVN-99) was a 350 meter-long behemoth constructed from four years of planning, research, and building. The US Navy wasn't one to pull stops with their carriers, effectively placing ample armor for its deck and hull, with ten AI-assisted anti-air guns, two anti-projectile laser emitters, six anti-ship missile launchers, and eight 12.7mm machine guns. All of these weapons are complemented with twelve FA-35 fighters, eight F-22s, five A-10s, three V-22 Ospreys, two CH-46 Sea Knights, and 5000 sailors and airmen.
Leading the men of the Aquarius was twenty-five year old Commander Charles West, promoted to the position for multiple instances of "defending" nearby waters while somehow surviving Siren encounters, and was deemed to be knowledgeable with the movement patterns of the Siren ships. A boy from Hawaii, he was definitely wise with regards to his observations, water skills, and tactics: holding his breath underwater long enough until the Sirens retreat using their "portals" before inflating a life raft and drifting to shore during his first encounter against them. And now, here he is, commanding his own ship on a likely suicide mission.
December 29, 2052 05:00 UTC -11:00
San Francisco Bay, California
"Yaaawnnnnnnn… Fell asleep on the office again. How many times does this make it?"
Charles, who just finished a good stack of paperwork before the mission, walks up towards the door and into the walkway to realize he slept for a few hours, and that he needed coffee for the mission briefing with the captains of the fleet escort ships together with central command three hours later.
Going down the stairwells towards the fifth floor below the deck where the dining area is located, he gets greeted immediately by sailors on guard, and by the kitchen staff giving him a hefty amount of steak, four sandwiches, and a sunny side-up for breakfast with his desired helping of black coffee.
"Hmm… Don't you think this is a bit too much for breakfast, lads?," asked Charles in a slightly confused tone.
"No sir. Us here in the kitchen knows whatcha boys are gonna do later before we light up the skies with fireworks for New Year, so take care of the fights and we'll take care of your bellies, sir," said the lead kitchen staff for the day.
"(sigh) Ever since the Great War, a serving of steak and eggs are a sign of another busy day. Thank you mate," Charles replied, with the lead kitchen staff giving him a 'no problem, anytime' smile.
With his breakfast done after a few minutes, he went to his room before changing to his navy training outfit, before heading to the flight deck and doing a few jogging laps, three sets of thirty push-ups and sit-ups, and returning to his cabin to take a good bath not long after cooling himself to the thin fog that provides him with a good view of his men also doing some exercise under the shadows of the Golden Gate Bridge just as the first rays of the sun peek behind it.
Clad in his navy blue officer uniform, he then loaded his Desert Eagle with a magazine containing eight shots, before placing the safety to on and securing it to his holster, and attaching four more magazines and a first aid kit to his belt. Sporting a strapped binoculars around his neck, he then placed his cap to his head, still having half an hour before the strategy meeting in the carrier's war room, heading first to the bridge to conduct checks and ensure an all-systems-go status, proceeding to the war room after.
As soon as he opens the door to the war room, he failed to see the speck of red hair belonging to a woman seated two seats left from the screen.
"Mornin', commander ~," the voice said while giggling a bit,
"Just when the heck did you even get in here, Ren?," Charles angrily replied.
"Well, technically a few minutes earlier than you were, but I'd say I arrived two hours ago, maybe while you were up on the flight deck? Still beefing up that body even though we're basically cannon fodder for those bitches, eh?," Lauren Mitchell, the captain of one of the escorting cruisers for the mission and a long-time best friend of Charles, teased.
"W-W-Wh-What the fuck, woman?! S-S-Stop those shenanigans! How did you even arrive without me knowing? Or wait. I think I saw a RHIB tied to one of our bays, so you probably sneaked in," he muttered that last part to himself, not minding the redhead moving closer, until he spoke up and startled her.
"Alright lads, get in the room and take your seats. I've already received a go signal from our comms officer and CENTCOM for secure lines we will use to our meeting. We'll also be patched with the UNSC head and the President to have them know of our battle plan."
As soon as he finishes the first two words, captains from the other escort ships get seated and greet each other before Charles starts the mission briefing.
"Okay. Good morning, everyone. I'll get down to business. We will start by steaming towards Pearl Harbor to coordinate with US Pacific Command with the mission half an hour later. While we're at it, a supply convoy en route to the naval base will also tag along us and then head 200 nautical miles north, just short of the range for their air assets to provide assistance for us. With the fleet our size, we'll be expecting heavy resistance as soon as we encounter them, and we try hitting them first. That was some of the things I noticed with regards to these alien bastards: we fire a shot to one of them, they return it tenfold.
Now, from the footage gathered by one of our fighters during a previous engagement where we lost the whole expeditionary fleet, they have these portals that allow them to move their units anywhere, either to our front, back, sides, above, or below. From reports made by other nations going with this initiative, pincer attacks are their usual strategy: they force you to hit them, and they block your escape as soon as you lose ammo, aircraft, or other ships. Our objective for this mission is to destroy and bring back hull samples from one of their unfortunate ships, and fall back to deliver the package back to the safe zone where other assets can provide assistance to us. As soon as we crush one of their fucking ships, one of us is tasked for cargo duty, others to provide cover. Will there be any questions?"
One of the captains raised his hand, before asking, "Commander, how the heck will we minimize losses if you think they will try to cut off our escape if they realize our plans fast?"
Charles answered, in a slightly calm but sad voice, "we move our crew to the other ships. If we're lucky, most of the fleet can return. That's why at least one of us shall aggressively attack them and force their leaders, if they have, to think twice. We use that moment of hesitation to cover the retreat of the ship carrying the samples. I think our air assets are fast enough to transport them, but I would rather have them cover the escape since with the presence of the Aquarius, they most likely will send their air assets after us. The carrier would have to attack them head-on for this plan to succeed. They'll follow us if we retreat because they will recognize the offensive and defensive capacities of the ship, and once the carrier falls, the escape is doomed. Hopefully the carrier engineers finish installing 'that' before we enter combat."
Everyone in the room starts mumbling on the implications of this plan, and seeing their confusion, Charles added, "I'd rather that we lose a single ship than lose an entire fleet where our future hinges on. I want the samples to be studied for us to develop countermeasures against them, and finally wipe off those Siren bitches off the face of the Earth. I'll no longer gamble against death on this one, okay?"
As soon as he hears the approval of both the captains and central command, he now adjourns the meeting, with Lauren patting him in the back and telling him before she leaves, "I like the plan, but not with you staying to die. I told you back then when we entered the Navy, that it will take more than hellish experiences to break our bonds, right? You're not going to go down alone, not if I can help it." Charles smiles at the thought, before recollecting himself and heading to the bridge.
Confirming that all captains are now in their ships, officers rising as they hear "Commander on deck!", he orders the fleet to move in a semicircular formation towards Pearl Harbor before pushing through 200 miles north of it.
December 31, 2052 10:00 UTC -11:00
Somewhere at the Northern Pacific Ocean
It took the fleet nearly two whole days of travel from San Francisco to Hawaii. As soon as they arrived, Charles immediately called on the top brass of the navy and air force stationed on the islands. Having them know that this was urgent through central command, they were immediately resupplied with aviation fuel, which was diminished after conducting round-the-clock aerial patrols during the trip to at least notify them of Siren presence beforehand, to which they encountered none. Although he was thankful the supply and troop transports with them did not end up at the bottom of the ocean, he knew better than lift his hopes up, because as far as he was concerned, ships that strayed away from the range of fire of onshore installations are doomed to die on the hands of a Siren fleet, and somehow surviving the long travel without engagements concerned him.
"Ren, have you noticed something? The ocean was terribly quiet for a Siren-occupied territory, no?," Charles spoke up to his buddy after seeing her go off her ship and into the docks.
"Well yeah, all of us would notice. I doubt they're scared with our air power, because we both saw how their drones overpowered our fighters from the expeditionary fleets in other countries. Also, after one of our destroyers here in the West Coast suffered from engine damage and drifted away from the range of our batteries, only pieces of metal remained after we tried finding them," she replied in a serious tone.
"Commander, my ship detected a few phantom dots on our sonar while we were on the rear of the formation. They were located right behind us, although they immediately cleared up after a few seconds. My crew hinted for the presence of whales, but from what you told us two days ago, I think they're enemy subs sizing us up, and they might as well attempt trapping us later. What should we do about it, sir?," one of the captains of the cruiser escort ships approached him.
Charles, although a bit shocked from the statement, said, "I heard the report, and I also received similar ones from the edges of our formation, but eerily, the front frigate reported an 'all clear' to me. Hmm… Let us discuss this with the brass here and come up with a plan to counter them. Although I want to discuss this immediately, the area isn't that secure anymore, so let's get moving."
The two saluted, and walked behind him towards the Pacific Command Headquarters.
For two hours on a closed-door meeting, they, along with the naval commander of the Pacific Fleet and the chief of the Air Force detachment, discussed their plans for the attack later. Although Commander West, as the two called him, iterated the indirect participation of the Pacific Command, he gave detailed plans in support of his mission and on defense of the installation, which made them agree immediately and set out to sound preparations of their respective forces.
Nearly an hour after they finished the finishing touches for his first and probably last mission as a task force leader, he saw eight V22 Ospreys get loaded with boxes and prepping for take-off, with aircraft mechanics tending on checks for aircraft at their hangars, sailors doing final inspections for their respective ships, and ground personnel looking at shoreline defenses, until a small beep rings on his radio, making Charles smile at himself as he makes his way back to his flagship.
At the same time, a few miles offshore from his position…
"It looks like the humans are packing up and possibly evacuating the islands as well. I feel a feast is about to come for us later, sister ~," a female voice said while looking towards the base.
"We should have crushed them earlier, when we had all the chance we could get! Now, if our 'playthings' leave here and make their way back to the land, we won't get away with just a scratch!," another girl gritted her teeth at the thought.
"From the intercepted messages, we found out that the fleet we tailed all the way here was to find us and get one of us for their 'research,' although the latter of their plans, including the ones they discussed earlier, were not found out, after they closed off our interceptor spoofing as a message relay. No matter, let's just crush their little rebellion and have fun with them later," the cold and calculating voice spoke towards her allies.
Finally, the woman, whose aura imposes loyalty towards others of her kind, turned her back and said, "Let us see how strong your mettle is, commander, ufufufu… I'll admit I want to torment that face of yours, so I'll have you die the last after we destroy this little party of yours."
And... cut! For everyone reading this, thank you so much for your support! I started writing this during the 28-hour "maintenance" of the Sandy server (and I'm not sleeping until I feed my shipfus properly after being starved like that). Anyways, I will appreciate comments and suggestions for future editing since this would be the first-ever fanfic I will try publishing.
A bitnspired by "Chronicles of the Siren War" and another fic with a shipboy commander (sorry I forgot what it was but still good for the imagination).
Next chapter's already planned (had good amounts of free time after university suspended online classes because of internet access disparity) and is 20% done, so I guess I'll see you soon! Wash your hands, drink lots of water, and always take care!
P.S.: I only own the plot, the OC commander, and his friend here. Each to his own, I guess.