Z23 kept running. Like the row of streetlamps, the twilight seemed to stretch forever, clouding the full picture of the entire situation to her. She kept moving, heading north with cautious hope.

Her radio fizzled and sparked again. It was again no use in trying to find value in the indecipherable hissing, but hearing it made the destroyer wonder. She pushed her doubts as best she could as she continued onward, chasing her nebulous goal along the long, long waterway. The relative silence that engulfed her was almost disquieting.

It was not long until Z23 finally spotted movement in the amber lights. She tensed up, expecting hostility, only to realize who they were. Relieved, she raced ahead to catch up.

"Hey! Am I glad to see you!"

Thalassa looked at her with an equally relieved look although the same could not be said for Eirene, her pearly toga besmirched with soot. "What're you so cheerful about? We've been having the snot kicked out of us and I didn't need a license to make that diagnosis!"

"Yes and no," Eunomia remarked, ignorant of the ongoing situation and her state of disrepair. "The order from above certainly suggests that the situation will only deteriorate. However, the statement of 'having the snot' kicked out of us is..."

The Ironblood destroyer donned an apologetic face. "Sorry. Me and the others were supposed to rendezvous with you but we were intercepted along the way and I got separated."

The nurse could only huff at the answer. "Well, whatever. We've already got the word to pull back. And with the air attacks finally letting us off, there's no better moment than now!"

Z23 looked stunned. "Pulling back? A-are you sure?"

"Dysnomia's orders," Thalassa stated calmly. "Made effective a while ago over our channels. Our whole defense has become a mess."

"W-wait, what about-!"

"Your friends are fine. I've confirmed their status," Thalassa assured. "Is your radio broken or something? Because otherwise- Oh… that explains a lot."

The sound of single cannonfire interrupted the moment as did Eunomia's report. "From the south. A trio of cruisers. Presumably on intercept course."

This elicited a bitter groan from Eirene. "Oh come on..."

The four ships were forced to scramble in expectation for yet another battle. Tired but vigilant eyes were drawn southward, in the direction Z23 had come from. The new arrivals had not yet entered into view but weapons awaited them.

"... Wait. They've turned away."

The Ironblood ship was confused. "What? Are you sure?"

Thalassa checked her radar, only to be met with proof of Eunomia's claim. "She's right… They've changed course, heading west." The miracle relieved her but she did not fall into the trap of resting on her laurels. "C'mon. Let's make a run for it while we have the chance!"

"Heading west..." Z23's eyes widened in realization. "They're headed towards the New City side! We should report their movements so that they-"

"'They'? You mean the Aegir Fleet?!" the Rán cruiser sputtered in disbelief. "They can take care of themselves. Whoever those cruisers are, they're not our problem anymore. And right now, our number one problem is linking up with the others and reforming our defense."

"But-"

A rough tug on her arm courtesy of Eirene put an end to the objections. "But nothing! We've got our orders, from our fleet leader, and she said we were to fall back. The sooner we move, the sooner we can get back to the others, especially those friends of yours. So are you coming or not?"

With a final tug, the decision was finalized. The Rán ships eagerly set sail, taking their Ironblood guest with them. She followed with them but it was reluctant; Z23 had her gaze southward, the horizon glowing with gold embers. Even against the black sky, columns of dark smoke floated to the air, none greater than those where their would-be pursuers had been diverted to: the very heart of San Salvacion's oppression.

And somewhere, they were out there, fighting a war that could not be won.

The intense fight raged in her sight. The whole city block seemed to shudder under the weight of powerhouses in play. Although far from the battle, she was far from disconnected to it; so heated the fight was that even she could feel it from where she was. So great it was that lesser ships were relegated as outsiders lest they be burned.

No matter - the arrangement suited Herne just fine.

She kept her eye glued to the scope as she tracked her targets through the haze. Urban sniping was a trickier affair than the open seas where long sightlines were assured. The confined environment made for rigid and frustrating situations; even if she were to assume the high ground, the man-made mazes offered too many nooks and crannies for potential victims - and usurpers - to hide in. Perhaps Tanager's rather excessive collateral damage had one positive note from it as the scenery that hindered her were being haphazardly demolished.

Sounds of engines and wind droned in the background in between outbursts of blasts and explosions. Herne frowned at the noise ever since the skies became alive with enemy fighter jets, the Rose Kingdom's every movements judged with a strafing run. Despite Geofon's resistance, it was clear who the air belonged to. But now that a maelstrom brewed in New City, it seemed it had captivated their attention. In lieu of their lessened presence, Herne felt she could actually relax a little as she went to work.

Down at ground zero, there was a flurry of movement and activity, plenty for her eyes to feast upon. Herne kept in mind the whereabouts and silhouette of her queen; no one else dared to step in so anyone else that moved down there was likely to be one of her targets: White Valley, Tennessee, or Fort Grace. She hoped that maybe one of them would be that dumb maid but then Herne remembered that she was very likely preoccupied elsewhere as were the rest of the Aegir Fleet.

A shot. Clipped the target (looked like White Valley) near the shoulder. She quickly chambered another round.

Scanning. Another shot. Not sure if it actually hit and do damage but it did give Fort Grace pause, enough to foil her attempt to slip a missile behind Tanager's back.

As Herne readied another shot, a loud bang erupted. At first she wondered if it was from her, only for another loud bang to ring out. Then the roost she was in shook. Another loud bang, and this time, a storm of splinters and shattered wood and pounded dust splashed all over her as something hurtled through the air.

The destroyer scrambled, leaping away from her hideout which had once been her shield from air attacks. As she dropped all the way to ground level, the banging stopped. Breathless, she paused. "What the heck was that?!"

Unexpected cannonfire answered her from behind. "Surprise!"

Herne fumbled about in the ambush, finding herself suddenly beset upon by a handful of ships. "Ack! Where the hell did you come from?!"

Cleveland didn't answer, instead grinning as she continued firing away. Denver and Helena accompanied her in the process, sending Herne in a hasty rout.

Satisfied, Cleveland stopped to compliment the blue-haired cruiser. "Good call, Helena. That's one less camper to worry about." Helena quietly smiled at her words.

The three found themselves joined by the others, eager for action. Behind enemy lines, in an unfamiliar setting, with the element of surprise soon slipping away… they couldn't help but get excited.

"Okay guys, remember what Andromeda asked of us: let's run wild behind the Aegirs!"

"H-hey! What's going on?!"
"I'm not getting spiked! Who's shooting…?!"
"... Behind us! They're coming from behind us!"

Even amidst the fire and fury to and from her enemies, Tanager's face twisted with anger. "... What do you mean our rearguard is under attack?!"

"Confirmed: a squadron of cruisers have been sighted; Herne has already made contact," Geofon reported orderly. "Attack angle indicates they slipped in from Old Towne unopposed where the Rán Fleet battlelines were."

Tanager shook with rage at the implications. "... Those damn cowards! All this time, they rewarded our courageous defense with such weak will?! See to correcting this disgrace at once!"

"As you comm- My position has been compromised. I am now engaged with enemy ships!"

Tanager screamed out a curse as cannonfire and battle filled the airwaves. And before she knew it, the same sounds rang in her ears. Great wind buffeted her position, brought about by the multitude of vengeful fighters that swirled around her.

Tanager raised her arms just in time for a momentous kick to impact against her. Although blocked, it still sent her sliding back. Ahead of her glared Fort Grace. "Give it up, Tanager! You won't win!"

The battleship gave a defiant growl as she raised her guns. In an instant, she came under an immediate hail of fire: missiles, battleship shells; with the skies now devoid of friendly presence thanks to the enemy's machinations, there was nothing to shield the leader of the Rose Kingdom. Unrelenting fire came upon her like a divine punishment. A wrath befitting of the queen of fury; a fate deemed appropriate for the sinner such as her.

And yet, Tanager continued to cling to her practices. Although not incinerated by the intense attack, she had no recourse but to concede to its intensity.

The sight of their foe being warded back brought a most satisfying curl on Tennessee's lips. "Heh. Look at her run with her tail between her legs!"

"Not just her… the whole Aegir Fleet offensive is wavering!" Andromeda ecstatically reported. "Looks like they finally realized they bit off more than they could chew."

"Pursue her!" Fort Grace ordered. "All ships, advance!"

Despite the gruelling battle just prior, the ships all pressed forward without weariness on their faces. With the enemy finally sent reeling there was to be no moment to rest. Every inch of liberated city was progress, a step towards victory.

A great breeze billowed from behind. Like it, great flocks of birds followed in it's direction, all migrating unanimously for what dissent there once was was now absent. Once blowing, the sweeping winds could not be stopped. Victory was within grasp.

"That was intense!... was like New City is on fire!"

"... We apologize for the momentary disruption of this live broadcast..."

"... radio transmissions from the military are occasionally..."

Helena kept a steady eye on her SG. With the team caught in a chaotic crossfire - from the front, from above, and now from behind - it was easy to be lost in indecisiveness. She kept her focus as best she could in these circumstances.

There was a certain objective in her mind. "... Tanager's pulling back. She's heading north at top speed; she'll be upon us very shortly!"

The news did not dissuade Cleveland. "Gotcha! Let's give this one more go, everyone!"

Cheers resounded among the Eagle ships as they circled around and dove right back into the fray. Immediately, a wing of Geofon's Terminators arrived to greet them, alongside the carrier herself.

Drawing her rapier, Geofon held firm as the cruisers charged towards her, content to let her planes and ordnance answer in her stead. The opening salvo poured on the path of Cleveland and her team, dissolving their formation behind a wall of explosions but did not deter them.

Thinking quickly, Cleveland dashed to the side blasting away with her cannons. She had thought about throwing in a quick taunt or two but found that she had already bought the enemy carrier's attention. Encouraged by her stare, the young blonde kept up her fire even though most of her shots simply glanced off of Geofon's sword and rigging. Her fire was swiftly joined by the others, now attacking from multiple angles.

Then the Terminators swooped in, forcing Cleveland to leap back and assume the defensive. With her taken care of, Geofon instantly turned her attention to the others, catching them in the act of surrounding her. Her sharp eyes recognized them all. Another blonde to her right, two white-haired sister ships to her left, the newcomer with unknown gadgets on the opposite side, the blue…

Geofon pounced on her first chosen victim, her sudden move a surprise to the attacking ships. Her intent aimed at Reno, the light cruiser acted on instinct. When the rapier's tip shot towards her, a pair of metallic gauntlets were waiting for it.

With an audacious look, Reno reacted to counter only for the sword to slip away from her grasp. But with her other free hand…

"Take this! Repulsor Palm-"

Steel stabbed towards her open palm; while it thankfully did not pierce through, Reno winced at the sharp pain. Her palm, once glowing, now sputtered and went dead like a lightbulb.

She saw Geofon already about to deliver her next strike, moving faster than she had anticipated. Thinking quickly, Reno called upon another card in her sleeve. "Reflector Belt, go-!"

Another muffled jab, Reno felt it clear as day. Her next device clicked hollow, only after Geofon's rapier had already pierced it. Too late again.

And now a swift kick found itself connecting with her side, sending the light cruiser tumbling and rolling roughly over the water. Something else other than her two gadgets broke as she lay in pain.

The other Eagle ships could only stare agape at the speed the carrier displayed. Geofon exploited this moment by proceeding to her next target: Helena. Having neutralized a potential threat, she now moved towards robbing the enemy cruisers of their eyes.

Geofon leapt towards her, affixing her with the same look she had given her last victim. The tip of the sword cut almost too close to Helena, sparing her but not the weapon that was in her hand, knocking it out of reach. She had no choice but to recoil from the attack, tempting the carrier and her sharp blade to give chase.

Columbia, Denver, and Montpelier immediately opened fire from behind, the impacts of their shots momentarily giving pause to Geofon's attention. But their determined resistance was not to last before swooping jet fighters cut the air around them, holding them at bay. The cruisers' anti-air secondaries flared up but surrounded and firing from all sides, the effort was sabotaged by uncoordinated fire. Their efforts to swat down the planes only resulted in the three becoming pestered and pecked apart by their missiles, and soon their defenses were already slipping.

And as the Knights of the Sea faltered, Helena hung by a precarious thread against her opponent. By now, she lay helpless as Geofon stood over her, rapier ready for the killing blow. Were this a fictionalized tale, the Rose Kingdom carrier would have spared a parting line before she proceeded with finishing her opponent off. But Geofon was not the sort to waste words with those she intended to slay. And this was not that sort of story.

Luckily for Helena, there was someone who defied this notion. Right as Geofon was about to strike, a weight was thrown upon her back, throwing off her aim and sending the rapier digging itself next to Helena's neck. Geofon whirled to see who was responsible, only to find the same weight clinging to her back, shouting and hollering.

A hand made its way on her face, forcing Geofon blind but she did not need to see that it was Cleveland. She quickly raised her rapier, only for her to find empty air with each swing. Likewise, Cleveland made sure it only met empty air and not her face, quickly realizing the foolhardy nature of her plan.

But it worked. With the distraction, her sisters recovered to return the favor. Salvos pelted the carrier, now unable to properly retaliate. The longer the knight of the sea held on, the longer Geofon was forced to suffer this predicament: fingers clawing at her face, a fist and feet pounding on her back, a tide of fire bashing against her exterior shot after shot after shot...

Finally, the weight was lifted off her back. Sight regained, Geofon was all too eager to skewer the young knight and then her friends, one by one. But she was denied her revenge when a missile slammed into her back and she collapsed to her knees.

Securing the grateful Helena and now-recovered Reno by her side, Cleveland regrouped with her sisters. "Great work guys! Now let's skedaddle outta here!"

Out of the corner of her vision, Geofon could only watch as her tormenters made their escape. Moments later, a familiar team came to fill their absence, hastily establishing a defensive perimeter around her.

"Geofon, status!"

The carrier grimaced as she tried to rise to her feet, untouched by Raven's concern. "... Rigging is still functional. As am I."

There was a shout. The guttural droning of CIWS swiftly filled their ears. Geofon looked up just in time to see that some missiles had been shot out of the air. As she did, she also saw the sky.

It was the same sight that no one - friend or foe - was unfamiliar with: the various planes of the Silver Star Federation and the Delta Coalition filling the air, making it come alive with their buzzing. But a subtle difference that Geofon observed was the absence of their own air power.

… Of course. The intrusion of those light cruisers were but an elaborate distraction. By endangering her, they had succeeded in securing a key front for their side. As little as there were, the presence of Rose Kingdom planes would have symbolized their nation's dogged resistance, their persistence. They would have stood the slimmest of chances. Now there were none.

With their air support lost, the inevitable would come soon.

Under cover of the dying twilight, the Aquila Vanguard spirited Geofon to safety. Like the battle, she had no choice but to concede.

The situation that awaited Tanager was already less than stellar - now, it was as worse as she had been informed.

She had already seen enough when she shot through the city streets in restrained silence, passing by city sights all vaguely familiar to her. To see them again in such circumstances was already an insult to her. Were she had the time, she would have been tempted to destroy it all, wipe the land clean. A petty revenge, but revenge nonetheless: satisfying.

But such time was not in her possession as she ran with bitter resentment. Passing by those familiar sights, a regression of her victories that now seem so distant. She had done more than run - she fled.

And now, outside the gates of their established headquarters, Tanager was in no mood for any more setbacks. She curtly rallied her fleet around her. "Return to your duties. They will not push us back so easily this time..." Her ships seemed to shrink from her gaze and readily agreed to her commands, frantic to obey her and to retreat from her radiating presence.

Tanager turned to her side, only to find no one there. Geofon's absence was a major point of vexation to the battleship. And looking up, she already knew why. Even before the fleet rushed to reassemble their defense, a near-unending downpour of bombs persisted upon them. Without planes of their own, theirs were free to run amok. Ground-based AA continued to oppose them but no effort could ever make up for the loss of the aerial theatre. Even now, the damned birds of the allies continued to pester them; worse, their attacks seemed to be more encouraged.

Poking her head from out of cover, Herne shared a similar opinion on her expression. "Ragh! We won't be able to get anything done with this much enemy planes!"

Tanager glowered. "We will make do. To not will be sacrilegious… What of our flanks? Are the scum that pilfered us still at large?"

"Last I saw, they were headed east straight to Old Towne," her sniper replied. "They're the Rán Fleet's problem now."

Best that it be that way. Tanager glanced up to see a bright twinkle. She stepped to the side right as a missile whizzed past her, catching her with mere sprays of its blast. She glared at the would-be assassin, finding the entire air filled with them.

More streaks of red - more missiles! With a conductor-like motion, Tanager filled the skies with tracers and flak, erasing the airborne projectiles as though she were wiping them with her hand. Soot and ash fell to earth, the only things that reached her. Tanager spat at their attempt; she knew the enemy was fully aware of her location - they were trying to weaken her before they moved in for the kill. A contemptuous way to hunt, and it disgusted Tanager to think that it would be exploited on her.

This was how the enemy wished to fight. Tanager should have known.

Her radar then picked them up: four of them. Staggered formation, on fast approach.

Then a malicious idea blossomed in her head. If her adversaries fought with leverages, then it stood to no reason why she couldn't.

And fulfill a part of Tanager's desire to see this wretched city ruined in the process.

In a move that surprised the other defenders, Tanager sprung off towards the enemy.

Fort Grace was not surprised to encounter Tanager, much less see her incoming on radar. "Seems she has no intention of letting our air supremacy wittle her away."

Tennessee shared that opinion on her expression. "Our air power or our guns, the outcome will be the same. She's caught between a rock and a hard place."

"Heh. I always liked taking things up close and personal," White Valley quipped.

Tea Time was not so assured as she brought up the rear. "It's likely she is getting desperate. We should remain wary of her."

Fort Grace was inclined to agree but it was not long until her nemesis entered range. Her planes shot ahead, eager to be first to greet the battleship. A second later, bright orbs streaked towards them: a swift reply. The four tacitly loosened up their formation in anticipation of their guest's arrival.

Over the horizon, Tanager's image slowly came into clarity. Their enemy sighted, the allies ships all opened fire. Missiles left streaks of white like afterimages. Whether some met their premature end in the counterfire, Tennessee was more than glad to make up for it with her cannons, to bury her rival under the weight of fire. Combined, the allied firepower did more than just bury Tanager in smoke; it threaten to drown her.

Then the return fire came. Everyone reacted to its thundering, dodging the shots. Peeking around her, Fort Grace was pleasantly surprised to see that all had escaped unscathed. The only casualties she witnessed were the surrounding buildings, their faces adorned with new windows and openings.

She turned back to face their opponent, posturing with her rigging's bulk and the flag, though besmirched, continued to fly proud. Her silent guns and dagger-like stares fired the shots for her.

An open invitation - a dare. Fort Grace was more than content to oblige. But just as she took a step, the seas quietly shook. A groan, the most deep and terrible groan was heard but it was uttered by no human mouth. It came from the sides!

She whirled around just in time to be washed away by dirt and debris, smothered by ash and dust. Fort Grace felt herself be repelled by the storm-like force. It took a good minute for her to finally be able to breathe again.

"... Tea Time? White Valley? Tennessee, do you read?"

Clouds of dust choked her sensors as much as her eyes but when they cleared, Fort Grace could only be shocked by what she witnessed.

Where there was once a street, there was now only ruin. Rubble that once made up the buildings around them now lay before her, where they once were. Her and the others…

Fort Grace scrambled to look around, to catch sight of something, some hope of their whereabouts, to see if they had survived Tanager's trap. But as she was about to start, a flurry of shells slammed into her back. Fort Grace buckled in pain under the vicious blow. Yet she still had the strength to remain standing, conscious enough to address the one responsible with a glare.

Seeing such a pained expression on her opponent brought such euphoria to Tanager. She smiled back at the carrier, sword already in hand. Hatred and pleasure made for quite a concoction for her soul, and Tanager savored every taste of it.

"Where do you think you're looking? Only ruin marks their grave. Their murderer stands before you!"

A lure. Fort Grace recognized it as such. But as much as she restrained herself, this was one trap she had every intention of falling into.

Fort Grace started to run to the side. She moved quick but Tanager's cannons reacted faster, their gaping maws tracking her movement. The guns flashed before her eyes but the carrier's opening move was a decoy, her jinking swift enough to avoid another major damage. In return, she sent her Phantoms forth, cutting the air with aggression.

Her quarry putting up a fight, Tanager watched her opponent with a malicious grin. A flurry of missiles streaked towards her in dizzying patterns but the battleship withstood the impressive-looking attacks with nonchalance in her strides and assured confidence on her visage. Seizing the briefest of lulls in the attack, Tanager brought her guns back to the fore and fired.

Fort Grace saw the attack coming and accelerated her course. The battleship shells hurtled towards her as a shower of steel. She weaved around the rain, but found herself caught in the fringes of one blast after another, each impact nudging her ever so slightly off-course. It was like navigating the rough seas in the eye of a storm.

Tanager recognized her opportunity, and with a zealous look plunged towards her foe. The sword glistened brighter in her hands. The stumbling Fort Grace caught wind of her movement, stepping to the side in time for a broad blade to swing where she once stood. But the greatsword was still left wanting and no sooner did she dodge did the blade come swinging again. With each attempt the carrier was left reeling. Aircraft swooped down in defense of their master, but with her secondaries turning her blindspots into rings of fire, Tanager paid them no mind.

Fort Grace was her sole focus, and now that she was locked in melee, Tanager could never be more happier at the circumstance.

With a war cry, the queen of the Aegir Fleet lunged for another swing. The tempered steel scored only a nick on the fringes of Fort Grace's hair as she tucked and rolled, vanishing beneath Tanager's view. She moved to react, but not fast enough to prevent a missile from stabbing her in the back. Fort Grace emerged from behind her opponent, content at the good, if sneaky, hit at last.

She saw her opponent teeter, black smoke belching from her rigging.

Then she turned. Too quickly from the wound. A glint of blue flashed before her eyes.

Something whizzed right above Fort Grace's head, right above her eyebrows even. The rough landing on rear was a thankful indication that she still breathed, much less stunned at her unlikely survival as the carrier caught sliced strands of her own hair fluttering down. She was hesitant to admit that the exerted squeal came from her.

Tanager's shadow fell upon her. Every gun were fixated on her like a firing squad, the edge of her sword hung over the Delta carrier like a guillotine. Her manic expression reflected off the its blade.

"At last… From the beginning, here to the end. Where you first defied, now you've come to die. Your grand rebellion was naught but a death throe; your epitaph. Now good riddance… 'Ribbon'!"

Her grin grew wider, savoring every millisecond of the moment she could before its conclusive finality. And when it did, it all happened in a flash.

But not in the way either of the two expected.

A reaction, but not from Tanager; an explosion, but not from the muzzles of her cannons. Something knocked the battleship from behind, rousing her from her desire. Her face instantly twisted and soured and even before she could react, more followed.

Looking up, Fort Grace saw them: aircraft and munitions, of all shapes and sizes but all with one thing in common: their prey.

With a scowl, Tanager turned her full attention to the ravenous birds. A storm of lead erupted from her rigging, but it could not compare to the sheer tide of missiles and bombs. Everywhere she and her turrets looked, another meddler dared to approach where she did not; for every attack that she negated, more came to peck at her. Like a determined flood, the enemy aircraft were able to slip through her defenses, as formidable as they were.

But cracks were there, and with the sudden arrival of more missiles impacting her side, Tanager's shield had been shattered apart. Whirling towards the direction of the new attack, Tanager's look of rage and disgust reached a new zenith.

Barreling down the street, Kestrel, Vulture, Buzzard, and Ark Royal arrived, the carrier sisters firing off another wave of missiles. Tanager did not hesitate to swing all gun batteries in their direction, but by doing so the planes above pounced on her. Shot after shot, strafing run after another that pummeled her hull - try as she might, Tanager could not ward them off. Talons sunk into her flesh and they would not let go.

In spite of this, Tanager persisted with a loud snarl. She refused to bend knee under the hail of ordnance, her cannons continuing to sing her defiance. But her rigging's hull was blackening and disintegrating practically before everyone's eyes; with each passing moment, a missile would find its way to be collected on the ever-deteriorating exterior. Tanager's veneer was occupied by a look of fanaticism, but the illusion did little to deter the allied ships from knowing that their attacks were all taking its toll on her.

As she carpeted the air with her wrath, Tanager failed to take heed of a Tomcat swooping low, skimming just above feet level. It zoomed by the battleship, its angular wings clipping her leg. The unexpected sensation succeeded in making Tanager flinch before a Phantom followed up the blow with one of its own, shooting straight past her face and slapping it with its metallic belly.

The indignity finally proved to be the last straw for Tanager and at last her persistence gave out. Her rigging charred and warped, the battleship had no recourse but to retreat. But not before exchanging one last look with her hated foes. She departed in undignified silence.

The victorious reinforcements gathered by Fort Grace's side. Injured and tired, she was all the more relieved to see them again. "Thank you for the assistance. Your timing was impeccable."

"Oh I'm sure we could've done better," Buzzard smiled.

Vulture chuckled. "Whatever you say, sis. We still kick ass as usual."

"A carrier never fails to deliver!" Ark Royal boasted with pride.

But the rosy mood was soon cut short as Fort Grace immediately turned her attention to the rubble. Kestrel was already atop, trying to sift through the debris. But in the mountain of brick and foundations, the byzantine mess was difficult to unravel.

Although she had witnessed it during the battle, it was now that Ark Royal had the chance to comprehend the sight up close in person. "Inconceivable… was Tanager attempting to level this city?!"

"Wouldn't put it past her," muttered Fort Grace. She quickly went to work, joining Kestrel in the search. The others hastily followed and when the Delta carrier began calling out, so did they.

"Tennessee!... Tea Time!... White Valley!"

Then, as if on cue, the mound sifted. It was gentle as though it was an earthquake, but then, without warning, an explosion rocked the hill of debris. Everyone scrambled away as pieces showered everywhere but no enemy presence was made. And when the dust settled, they all saw a recognizable face where the ruins once were.

Fort Grace couldn't help but crack a wide smile. "Glad to see you're still with us, Tennessee."

"Naturally," the Eagle battleship grunted, she and her rigging covered top to bottom with soot. "Should've known those were delayed-fuse HE shells she hit the buildings with."

A head popped up beside her, it too covered in black blemish but White Valley's fiery hair conspicuous as always. "Phah! I knew I wanted to hit a fancy bar but I didn't expect the bar to hit me instead!... The beers sucked too..."

Finally, Tea Time emerged from the wreckage, shaken but safe and sound like the rest. "... To think I had only recently washed my outfit..." Then as her eyes lit up, her mood lifted. "Your Grace!"

Suddenly buoyed with energy, the maid eagerly clambered down to meet the carrier. The two met with warm disposition on their faces.

"Happy to see you again. You alright?"

"Nothing a maid can't handle," Tea Time replied with a habitual bow. "So long as I have you, no affliction shall be too great." Hearing this, Fort Grace looked sheepish.

"... Your Grace?"

The carrier glanced back to the maid. "Y-yes?"

Tea Time pointed to the top of her head, and mimicking the motion Fort Grace nearly jumped when she realized she was bareheaded. Save for a few lost locks, her beret had disappeared.

"Oh. I, um, I appeared to have lost it," she mumbled. "I-it wasn't anything critical so..."

With a joking hum, Tea Time unveiled the very item in her hands, exactly as how Fort Grace remembered it. While the carrier was stunned, the maid's face simply shined bright.

"... That's my Tea Time," Fort Grace complimented, accepting the hat. "So long as I have you, I'll always be thankful that someone is by my side."

Swiping the grime and dust away, the beret was slipped back on as though nothing had transpired. Image completed, Fort Grace felt her confidence restore, the certainty assured.

All the while that they stood, the droning of friendly air power dominated the background.

When the gate burst open, Geofon was sincerely surprised to see Tanager stumbled back to safety, her rigging in complete disrepair. The carrier did not open her mouth to greet her as her expression told her everything she needed to know.

"Prepare to move out." Though simple, it was clear that Tanager had to muster her strength to give the order.

Again, Geofon needed not to spare words. The situation had crumbled just as she suspected and to add comment would be redundant. And in moments like this, redundancy was the last thing her queen wanted. They both knew the cause.

Up until she came back, Geofon had the chance to view the scenario with renewed clarity. But the picture the reports painted was only cynical: everywhere, Rose Kingdom efforts swept away by the combined allied air power, too many to count and too much to handle with what they had. All positions under perpetual bombardment, with no hope of relief and all with little sight of the actual enemy that they knew were encroaching them, news of the queen's defeat spreading with their approach. The situation had been inauspicious, but now it was as if the entire allied air armada was bringing the sky down on their heads.

There was no denying it. The logical culmination, the seeds of which had been planted when the battle began.

Radio in hand, it was now Geofon's turn to give the order, to pass it along. Whether she was bold enough to do so now was irrelevant. "... To all Aegir ships, we are withdrawing. Rendezvous at the following coordinates."

Behind her, there was a muffled impact sound. With a sharp exhale, Tanager stormed out leaving only a pockmark on the wall to accompany her advisor.

For once, the Rán Fleet's plight was at its best. For the first time, the sounds of flying death had faded into the distant background, their masters' eyes now looking elsewhere. The streets of Old Towne fell to a tense peace as furtive stares were cast more than missiles. And yet, now that they were confined within the walls of their appointed base, their situation had not improved.

In spite of this, everyone - Z23 included - had to make do. "How's it look?"

"Don't worry, I got this handled!" U-73 assured rather proudly. "I'll get your baby working like brand new in no time!"

Although she understood the intent, the destroyer silently rolled her eyes at the impromptu nickname for her own rigging. Having finally reunited with her fellow Ironblood ships, Z23 took the first opportunity to get what field repairs she could get, and fortunately for her U-73 happened to be present when the fall-back order came.

Z23 sat still as the submarine tinkered away. Even from within the inner sanctum of the museum, the world outside had fallen quiet. But it was clear that it did nothing to placate the mood of the Rán Fleet. Even now, the very reason for their disquiet attitude lurked outside, just somewhere out of view, probably present only as fleeting glimpses.

Beside them, Dysnomia was certainly not in a cheery mood. "Status?" she asked impatiently over the comms. "Have you found them?"

"Found? Yes. Catch? Well, those Eagle mädchen are rather slippery tonight."

U-73's eyes lit up. "Hey, I think I got your radio working!"

Dysnomia gave a long sigh. Thoughts of that time came to her mind like an unwanted memory, just as how their unforeseen interference was unwanted. She recalled all too well how they slipped into their flanks like household pests, uprooting their defenses before apparently shirking away the way they came from, west to New City. Once again, Dysnomia cursed the Aegir Fleet for this mishap.

U-73 continued work on her friend's rigging, and as she did the radio sparked to life again.

"...Aegir ships… withdrawing. Rendezvous at...coordinates..."

The two stopped. Even Dysnomia paused when her ears caught wind of the errant transmission. That was Geofon's voice! It came through again, now clearer as U-73 swiftly isolated the signal.

"Exit area of oper… Vanguard to establish rearguard. Other units, cease combat… withdraw!"

All present exchanged looks. Although not their superior, both Z23 and U-73 awaited Dysnomia's response.

"... Well that's it then. Fleet, prepare to withdraw!"

Z23 and U-73 gaped at her with dropped jaws. "What?! Just like that?!"

"No point in fighting a lost cause," the Rán leader argued with resigned bitterness in her tone. "And I have no intention of dying to cover their retreat. Prinz, I need you and your ships to provide a defensive screen, make sure to keep them off us."

"... Very well," the radio replied.

"W-wait!" U-73 hurriedly interrupted. "What about us? Shouldn't we rejoin our expedition fleet?"

Dysnomia looked at her with concern. "That sounds risky, given the circumstances. More so with your friend here who's still undergoing repairs."

"It's alright!" Z23 asserted, hopping off from her seat. "I am still combat operational, with all my systems back to normal. It's just… they are our kameradinnen - our own comrades. If they're to cover the retreat, then they will need all the help they can get."

The battlecruiser remained skeptical, but her features were softening in thought. Thankfully for the pair, it did not take long for her to reach a conclusion. "Consider yourselves fortunate that I have my Fleet to attend to. Alright, you two are free to join up with your group. Just be careful."

The pair sped off at full speed the instant they got the confirmation. So quickly that they forgot to say goodbye.

Moving with haste but with absolute discreetness, the destroyer and the submarine were away at sea when their radios came to life. "... I see that you managed to slip away from her."

"I, uh, must have left my radio on," U-73 answered as innocently as she could. "B-but anyways, what's our next move?"

Over the airwaves, Prinz Eugen mused the question with a light hum. "With the battle lost, the Rose Kingdom are withdrawing. But they will run out of places to run to. It will not be long until the Rose Kingdom becomes - how should I put it… dethroned. And us too… unless we act."

"... It's time, isn't it?"

"There is no better opportunity than now to make our departure," the heavy cruiser replied. "They've tasked us to be their rearguard… as unfortunate the timing is, I suppose one little betrayal won't hurt. Please make your way outside the city limits. Try not to let anyone notice you."

No one said a word. It was inevitable that they would one day return home with what they have learned, all from behind their allies' backs. And now, they were to abandon them to their fate.

In hindsight, perhaps they should have said goodbye.

U-73 zipped through the waters without a word until she noticed that Z23 was no longer by her side. Frantically, she spotted her companion zip off elsewhere. "Hey! Where are you going?"

"I'll meet you there with the others," Z23 called back. "I'll be right back!

"... There's something I need to do," she muttered as she sailed away.

Standing atop a rocky outcrop, it was hard to believe what Raven was seeing. San Salvacion, the city they had once taken as its new tenant, the city whose people they helped ruled over with a heavy hand - it now glowed with life. Were it not for the smoke and distant fires, the carpet of light that stretched across the horizon was a sight to behold.

The city was back in its full glory. But this time, they were not welcomed in it. They had paid the price for being the defeated enemy. The only thing that remained was exile in darkness.

Raven tore herself from the view with a sense of weight on her shoulders. She wanted to tell herself that it was simply exhaustion from the long arduous battle. She and the Aquila Vanguard had done their duty, now it was time for them to head home.

Home…

"Raven!"

All heads turned at the unexpected arrival of Z23 who nearly fell panting. The five approached her, curious at her presence.

"Z23? Where are the others?"

The Ironblood destroyer continued to catch her breath, leaving the question unanswered. She wheezed, recovering from what was evidently her manic attempt to reach them. Instead, Z23 opened with a question of her own.

"Raven... are you-"

"The Aegir Fleet is in full retreat." Looking away, Raven already had the answer to her question. "That includes us. Our only option is to rally at another strongpoint. We still have a duty to uphold."

Z23 sighed, her own eyes averted. "... That's crazy. The Aegir Fleet… Tanager… you'll fight for as long as she wants this war to drag on. She's insane!"

The Aquilas remained quiet, ambivalence written all over their faces. It caused Z23 to sigh heavily; she had no patience for this anymore.

"Don't you all get it?! There's no point in risking your lives to fight for her anymore. There's no point in staying by her side!"

"... Where else are we to go?" Raven finally asked.

A hand was extended out to her, its open palm beckoning to her. Looking up, Raven saw Z23's pleading face.

"It doesn't have to be this way..."

Now it all made sense to her. Their origins, their involvement, their motives… it dawned on Raven. She had not suspected them of such intention, yet she found herself not so shocked by the revelation. She could not bring herself to hate them for it. But the fact that one among them tried to reach out to them was to mean something.

Raven considered her words. She knew in her heart that they held merit. And despite the circumstances, she knew that this foreigner meant well. To think that she would be the one to offer her hand, a chance of a lifetime…

And yet, at what cost? To live was to trade away the war - their talents, their comrades, their country. To live was to do more than trade all of them away. It meant abandoning them. Abandoning everything, everything they had worked for. To run meant abandoning even their home.

As much as it pained her, she could not do this. Glancing at the rest of her squadron, Raven saw that the acceptance had pained them all: Condor, Magpie, Finch, Sparrow. She read their faces, discerned the inner turmoil within them. If she could see her own face, Raven imagined it would mirror theirs. Turning to Z23, her silent reaction was all that Raven needed to know that there would be no turning back.

She wished she could apologize to the destroyer. But there was little time left. Time enough for Raven to say one last thing.

"... Goodbye."

As Raven turned to leave, her squadron obediently followed. By choosing home, they had abandoned the young destroyer.

There was nothing Z23 could do to change their destiny.

"The fighters that pushed back the enemy are passing over us now. I can see with my own eyes the enemy evacuating from our city. Now we can shout 'Victory is ours!' This has been... of San Salvacion News, signing off.

"... Yeah! Get out of our town you fascist pigs! WOOO!

"... Sorry, couldn't help myself."

Singing.

Everywhere there was only singing.

By the break of dawn, the town was free at last. In the bright blue morning sky, the enemy's colors were not seen. The fires of the midnight fight had all died, and in its place the people of San Salvacion flooded the streets. Chants and chorus filled the air. Once discordant the voices converged into unity: a song of peace in a time of war.

"O'er azure skies and emerald plains… where freedom and justice prevail..."

Kestrel recognized it. The Usean national anthem. A song she had once heard before, to a time of another victory. And here it was, echoing throughout the jubilant city like a remembrance to that moment. History was coming together, and everyone was a participant.

After what seemed like a long absence, allied aircraft soared overhead. As loud as they were, the celebrations continued unabated. If anything, their presence amplified the event; the city's liberators were attending.

Kestrel thought of joining the occasion. But with her voice already joining in with the crowds, she already did.

Later…

The night had already been long and arduous. And as much as Fort Grace appreciated a nice rest, a lingering feeling kept her from resting too comfortably.

She gulped down a cup set aside for her (courtesy of the maid), eager to return her fixations back to the map. By now, most of the continent glowed a friendly blue, names of cities and terrain engulfed by its field. And just this dawn was a new name employed in the collection: San Salvacion. A new addition to the frontline that inched ever so closer east, toward the heart of the Rose Kingdom.

A swift refill followed by an equally swift downing of the aromatic drink. She was more than pleased with the recent victory despite whatever mishaps there were: Vulture using her planes for some impromptu air shows despite needing to give support, Fensalir and Folkvangr being a bit missile-happy in spite of the need to minimize collateral damage, and of course Tanager nearly getting the upper hand over her and her team.

But regardless of the incidents, they did it. They had driven the Rose Kingdom back once more. Battle after battle, they had pushed back the tide; battle after battle, the war was nearing its end. The feeling of finality was almost unreal.

Only one more name - one more battle - remained on the map:

Farbanti.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

HistoricHippos:

After what seemed like a longer-than-average time writing, the battle for San Salvacion is finally complete. For any who felt this was a rather long wait, you have my apologies. A mix of personal stuff, personal interests, and the heat wave baking me like it was Hoffnung contributed to the delays.

But anyways, another chapter done and dusted! Slowly but surely we're getting closer to the end of this story arc (which will be one of many). For those still wondering what Geofon's gift back in chapter 29 is, don't worry for it will finally play a role in the next battle. How well it will aid the Rose Kingdom's war effort and what it is exactly, we'll just have to wait and see.