The blue night reigned the day with the bright moon its crown. Faint stars carpeted the sleepy heavens and the only lights that dared to challenge the moon lay in the settled earth below but even then their resistance was fleeting as they too began falling to the sway of the night. Darkness had long fallen and it would not be for a while before its rule would end.
With a weary sigh, Fort Grace leaned back on her seat just in time for the clock to strike ten. Like a soaked cloth squeezed of water, her reclination brought a moment of bliss to her back.
"Seems you're all ready to tuck in for the night," a voice giggled lightly.
"Mm-hm. All too ready to pack it in for the night," the carrier replied. Setting aside her empty cup of tea, a pair of hands promptly accepted it off the table, clearing the way for Fort Grace to finalize her papers in orderly stacks where they would remain for the rest of the day. "Feels like I've been living in this office."
"The mountain of work has seen to that sentiment," Tea Time mused. "But please remember to maintain your health. An unwavering work ethic is admirable, but such praise will be meaningless should you suffer from it."
A sigh. "No need to tell me twice." Facing the window, Fort Grace was greeted to the landscape draped in darkness. Despite the shadow that fell upon the city like a shroud, she could make out the distinct high-rises and towers protruding against the natural terrain. Among them were the complement of tall industrial cranes, the perpetual reminder of the past and the ongoing rebuilding effort that demanded the combined back-breaking labor from everyone: every nation, every survivor, every citizen.
Her included.
Such was the toil tasked to her, to be locked in her office signing and sorting papers. After the great war, the world returned to peace, the sounds of war only existing in memory. But even the peacetime felt like another war, one fought with pen and paper on the battlefield of bureaucracy.
Fort Grace massaged her shoulder, loosening up her tight neck.
Tea Time cast a sympathetic glance at her friend and master. "Care for a bath before you dismiss yourself to bed? I can prepare a special relaxing one for you."
The carrier gave a nervous chuckle. "I suppose you could. Perhaps you'd like to relax as well; you've been working quite hard yourself."
The maid blushed behind a mirthful smirk. "I'll consider the offer~."
Then the phone rang, its sudden cacophony rudely interrupting the moment. Torn from her hopes of a good rest, Fort Grace wearily picked up the receiver. "Yes…?" she answered, fearing it to be yet another inane request or call that heralded more paperwork. God knows how often civilian bureaucrats came to rely on the military to provide all sorts of work that could be generalized under "assistance".
But the voice that replied was not what she expected.
"Fort Grace, you must head over here as soon as you are able! I am in need of your assistance without delay!"
The Delta leader glanced at her phone in surprise. "... Dysnomia? What is it? What's happening?"
"Did you believe I hailed you for idle chat? There is a situation within my Kingdom that you must help me resolve at once! It's the damn Aegir Fleet!"
The day was still young by the time Fort Grace and Tea Time finally arrived to port, breathless. A hop onto the dry docks and a heartbeat later they were off, the great royal palace looming ahead. Outside, Dysnomia intercepted them with an impatient greeting.
"About time you showed up. I've scarcely the moment to wait any longer."
"Save your belly-aching for more relevant matters," Fort Grace talked back in between her panting. "What is the situation? What did you-"
A muffled rumbling intruded her question. Casting her eyes ahead, Fort Grace now caught notice of the peculiarities present on the face of the Rán headquarters building. Between the immaculate plaster white facade of the walls and orange-capped roofs and peaks, the windows whispered a different story with uneven curtains, flashes of movement and light, and in one startling case there was no window where one once was.
Suddenly, an explosion and now there were two gaping holes in the building.
Dysnomia whirled with anger. "Oh for Pete's sake!"
"W-what is happening?" Tea Time asked nervously.
The battlecruiser sighed with exasperation. "What do you think? It's the Aegir Fleet. They've been infesting our administration building which we've been attempting to root them out for the past two days! We are running out of options, out of patience, and at this rate we won't have much of our headquarters left to operate from!" she finished on a shrill note, reminiscent of a tone one would have when compelled to pull their hair in vexation. And Dysnomia appeared before the two to be nearing that point in spite of her royal dignity.
Without waiting another word, Fort Grace brushed past the Rán leader with a run. Racing up the steps, she wrenched the heavy-oaken double doors open, barging in…
…Straight into pandemonium.
Now inside, the world had become loud: echoes of chaos rang through the hallways branching from the antechamber, the din of voices and curses merging for a disharmonic orchestra, and all accompanied by familiar thumps of missile launches and guns. The scent of gunpowder and propellant perforated the air and everywhere she looked the silky wallpaper, fuzzy floors, and frescoed ceiling all bore scars of a world turned upside down.
A missile whizzed over her hair, brushing her in hot smoke as she flinched in a barely-late duck. "Oi! I'm on your side now!" the carrier angrily cried.
Fort Grace hardly got a chance for a response before the shooter rammed past her, the shooter's horns nearly grazing against her skin. "Yeah?! Then quit yammering and get after her!" Ceto bellowed.
Wincing in annoyance, the Delta carrier hurried after the cruiser as her eyes and weapon were in search of something beyond her sight. She trailed behind, the pace leaving her mind spinning with no time to consolidate the fact that, if Dysnomia's claims were true, she would be confronting the Aegir Fleet once again.
They reached a corner. Fort Grace skidded to a stop, her mind racing as she witnessed… nothing.
She stammered for an explanation until a chandelier crashed before her feet. As loud as her surprised curse was, Fort Grace was nowhere as loud as Ceto as she instantly ascertained the source with burning eyes.
"Oh I've got you now you sunavabitch!"
Glimpsing upward, Fort Grace spotted a strange wisp near the ceiling, whirling like smoke yet moving unlike one. The unnatural oddity gripped her attention before Ceto's missile enveloped the spot in flame and cinders. She sheltered herself with her arm, sparing her senses from the worst of falling debris and ashes until her ears caught wind of a chittering sound.
Chittering laughter.
The Ribbon's eyes darted up wide. The veil of smoke was thick but an unnatural movement caught her eye, emerging from the impact site. The same odd cloud darted down to escape the ceiling, revealing to her as the source of the laughter. But-
Smoke doesn't laugh, let alone move the way this one was.
As Fort Grace got a good look at the rolling wisp, another startling thought struck her.
It wasn't some mystic haze or something alien. It was a ghost.
An honest-to-God ghost was prancing the halls.
And this particular one had a recognizable face whose identity Fort Grace thought had moved past from her life.
"... Thiassi?!"
The laugh ceased. "Huh? Oh hey Fort Grace! Long time no see. I wasn't expecting you to be here with these Rán miscreants."
Another roaring gunshot. A missile shot true, but zipped past the ghostly form of the raccoon-like destroyer whereupon it crashed into another piece of scenery. "GIVE IT BACK YOU BRAT!"
Thiassi swirled in the air, taunting the horned cruiser with her smug poses. "Ha! No way! I'm gonna make sure your panties make a fine addition to my collection along with the others. Tee-hee-hee!"
Ceto roared in outrage. "WHY YOU-!"
"Catch me if you can!" the destroyer teased before she departed down another corridor, Ceto hot on her tail and soon the sounds of destruction and screams that slowly faded in the background.
All this time, Fort Grace could only offer a blank stare. Her mind still struggled to catch up to current events even as it played out all before her still-blinking eyes.
"... What?"
A cold wave prickled her arm. As she peered to the side, Fort Grace nearly jumped at the sight of another ghost, another familiar form as it walked - or floated - past her in benign ignorance.
Kolga paused to spare a look at the surprised ship, glancing at her former foe with apathy. "... Just passing through. Don't mind me."
Fort Grace held her gaze. For the second time she was confronted with the truth of the situation, this time up close and personal. With this chance, her curiosity won over her disbelief. She composed herself, a feat aided by the ghost's passivity. "I-is that really you, Kolga?"
"Yes. And I know what you're thinking," replied the destroyer with a tired sigh. "We really did die, and we really are ghosts. Don't ask me how it works. One moment I was crushed by multi-ton rubble, the next I'm floating around here. So I figured 'what the hell' and decided to roll with it."
The Delta carrier parsed her words, her understanding barely holding together at the seams. "I-I see… how is it turning out for you?"
"Terrible, that's for sure," Kolga said. "Floating through walls is kinda fun but it got old. Not needing to breathe was weird at first and then I found there's no point in eating anything either. Basically, being dead sucks."
"U-understandable. Who else 'came back' with you?"
"Everyone but the subs, Tanager, and Herne," the destroyer answered nonchalantly.
The response elicited a quizzical look. "How come?"
A shrug. "No idea about Beowulf π and v. Tanager and Herne… I haven't seen them but I know they're around. We hear them. Lots of screaming though, that's all I'm going to say."
Fort Grace took a deep breath. "O-okay. I'll let you be on your way. Uh, cheers."
"Do me a favor and don't tell anyone where I am," Kolga replied, her request chasing after the carrier's back as she departed, eager to make herself scarce. But as much as she ran, her confusion remained latched onto her like glue. Sweat trickled down her temple, her mind still struggling to grip the reality of the situation.
"... Really? The Concubine Froggy said that?"
"I have heard it with my ears, seen it with my eyes! Do not doubt the signs!"
"Ohhh, that makes sense… The detergent really did deliver!"
Fort Grace turned the corner, stumbling upon Metis and the ghostly form of Taisch residing by a table. The two were engrossed in talk, oblivious to the circumstances even as shouts and missile fire echoed around them. She quickly stepped back out, neither of the two paying her even a passing thought.
The carrier snuck through a corridor, hearing the commotion around her. A muffled shout and suddenly a wall beside her exploded. "Ragh! Get back here!" a voice roared, coming through loud and clear.
"Egad! Enyo you nearly hit my wi-fi router!"
Fort Grace barely heard the voices through her ringing ears. As she lay stunned, she caught the fleeting glimpse of Fenris darting past, followed swiftly by missiles, ire, and then the forms of Enyo and Eris. They all passed by without noticing the blue-uniformed carrier. She carefully clambered back up, desperate to remain moving, but right as she regained footing her legs struck something and she fell back down. Sensing something, or someone, Fort Grace was unable to ascertain what it was that made her trip. But the strange experience was quickly shoved to the back of her head.
She crossed the war-torn passageway but found herself migrating to another as more shouts, yells, insults, missiles, ghosts, and trampling feet stomped around her.
"Begone! Return whence you came!" Calypso declared as shurikens and darts whistled around.
"Aaaah! Aah- Oh… I-it just went through…" sighed the ghostly image of Lazuli.
"Well blow me for a sea calf, ain't that grand!" cackled Beluga as she slithered around grasping hands and streaking projectiles.
"Tracking of incorporeal entities problematic but confirmed," muttered Eunomia, her calm demeanor in the mayhem coming out more as unnatural than collected. "However other extraneous sensors are encountering difficulty in acquiring these unknown targets-"
"Oh shut your pie-hole and do something!" screeched Eirene as she clutched the broken remains of her medical cabinet in her arms. "What're you idiots waiting for, your next appointment?!"
And in the middle of it all, Thalassa stood harried and distraught. "E-everyone, remain calm! Keep collateral damage under control! We need to-"
But it was no use. The voice of reason stood as much chance in the din of havoc as a rowboat in a storm. And like one Thalassa was swept in the mess that by this point, long proved to be beyond any attempt at control. All she could do was to ride the stormy waves.
In the midst of this, the Rán lieutenant noticed a peculiar member in the chaos. The recognition came slow as she and Fort Grace made eye contact. Weary faces met each other as the two ships greeted in awkward silence.
Fort Grace forced herself a disarming chuckle. "... Not a day this continent can rest peacefully, eh?"
Movement coming down the hall caught both their eyes, their expressions softening in relief at the sight of Dysnomia and Tea Time. Though pleased to see them, the battlecruiser and maid could not be any more horrified by the development.
Dysnomia's temper spiked at the ruined interior. "... GodDAMN it! At this rate we won't have a port to speak of! Is there anything that can be done to banish these bastards for good?!"
"A viable solution… is still a work in-progress," Thalassa reported breathlessly. "Our weapons have no effect on them; any physical attack phases right through them yet they have no problems desecrating our facilities!"
Dysnomia cursed at their straits. "Thalassa, find Enyo and her division. We are organizing a tactical withdraw!..."
Tea Time inspected her Delta friend, glad to see her intact. But her look of disgust paled to when she saw the disarray that surrounded her, the once regal estate in shambles. As a dutiful caretaker she shuddered at the prospects of restoration.
"Ugh, what a deplorable mess… To imagine how much work must be done to put this all back together, especially with cleaning up all this soot…" Assertion made, Tea Time snatched up a nearby vacuum cleaner. Gripping it with a grim look of determination, the maid set forth with sucking up the dirt, debris, and particles. She made haste with her work, made all the more easier when the blemishes were everywhere, from the blackened and burned marks on surfaces to the its descendants of ash and soot that snuck in every nook and cranny.
She could hear the commotion all around her, but Tea Time paid them little mind. As a maid, she had her focus honed like a blade, her cleaning implement her sword that demanded justice. The sounds of shouts, curses, and explosions did not discourage her from her mission - rather, they enhanced the mood the felt, her mind devoted to another gear in light of the circumstances. To her, she was back at war, and this was her battle to fight.
Tea Time swept the vacuum head back and forth with vigorous intent, seeing the immediate effects before her eyes as a river of dust streamed headlong into the cleaner. But as she now stood within the confines of chaos, it was not long until that chaos made its way to her. A nearby shout drew the maid's eyes as a figure barged into her presence.
Ceto roared into the room, curses dripping from her mouth like spit in apparent search of her target. "Where is she?! WHERE IS THAT LITTLE CREEP?!"
"Lower your voice, I'm trying to work here," Tea Time scolded. But above the whine of the vacuum, she made out chittering laughter. The sounds of smashing light bulbs instantly followed as glass orbs began raining down on them.
Tea Time looked up, the source of the projectiles in the faint hands of a grinning face that was like a racoon's. "Tee-hee-hee! Bombs away!" Ceiling lights, hastily unscrewed from their mounting began to pelt towards Ceto and the maid. The bulbs exploded into shards, an ineffectual but irating munition for the two. Tea Time reacted to the act with revulsion. The vacuum growled into action as it furiously went to work sucking up the shattered glass.
Ceto meanwhile directed all her ire towards the wraith, her wrath in the shape of missiles that cut through the air. The ceiling vanished in a flash of light and smoke before the laughter continued. The smoke cleared away to reveal Thiassi smugly loitering around the blast marks. "Can't reach me, I'm the thieving prankster ghost!"
Tea Time gaped at the ceiling with great annoyance. "Oh great! There'll be no end to all the rubbish that'll fall from there! Begone, dreck!" She raised her vacuum cleaner up and began sucking in the blackened debris.
Thisassi continued to laugh. "Pffft! Imagine caring about that! You'll never be done with room service at this rate! I can't believeeeeeee…!"
The destroyer's voice trailed away, much like herself as she vanished into the vacuum's mouth. Tea Time and Ceto glanced at the device in astonishment as a lull filled the room. Without the obnoxious laughter, there was now nothing more deafening than awed silence.
The cleaner's body shook slightly, a faint thumping snatching their attention. Peering closer, Tea Time barely made out muffled impacts, the drum-like canister quivering as if agitated. But dustbags can't be angered, unless…
Tea Time snatched the cleaner up as she ran. She gripped it tight in her arms, unwilling to risk the loss of a revelation - and a critical weapon she found.
She had to share her discovery to the others before it was too late.
"A-are you certain?"
Tea Time nodded with affirmation. "I've seen it happen myself. It not only sucked Thiassi in, it was able to contain her inside as you can see." Hefting the container up, the maid knocked on it. The container then shook as if provoked, the content inside trying to knock back before Fort Grace and Dysnomia's astounded eyes. But as implausible it looked, one thing was certain: there was something "alive" inside and whatever it was it could not escape.
Gathered by the grounds outside the Rán headquarters, Dysnomia sighed in a mix of relief and absurdity. "I can't believe it took a vacuum cleaner of all things to work…"
"Ridiculous, yes, but then again so are ghosts," the Delta carrier murmured. "Regardless, we now have a viable means to defeat the Aegir Fleet. Now, all we need is a plan."
"Are there more of these?" inquired Tea Time, raising the cleaner for emphasis.
Dysnomia tapped her forehead in thought. "We have a cleaning cabinet over by the storage shed. However, the additional ones we have are only the smaller handheld versions; nowhere the power or capacity as the one the maid possesses."
"Then they will have to do," muttered Fort Grace, her stare already affixed towards the shed in question. Without hesitation, she began walking towards it. Her strides carried intent.
"Tea Time, with me. We've got a mess to clean."
Her determined look allowed the smallest of smirks to curl on her lips.
A lull reigned in the inner chambers. While the occasional clatter was heard, silence had draped the interior ever since the Rán Fleet withdrew. For the first time today, nothing was louder than the absence of bombs and spat anger as the Aegir ghosts roamed the halls.
Kolga peered around the corner, noting the quietness with suspicion. "Sure is silent today (if I had said how dead this place feels I would've punched myself)..."
A shattering vase chimed on cue. Kolga sighed to herself at the timing as Fenris rocketed past the corridor, barking as she rushed past, chasing no one but her own desire for entertainment.
Likewise, Taisch sought an outlet for the empty boredom as she toyed with a porcelain ware that had survived up to this point. Waving her hands towards a small vase, she chanted. "Oh Great Pigeon of the Mind-Sky, I beseech you. Allow my thoughts to manifest!" Nothing came of her cultish prayer as she concentrated hard before finally her hand indulged in a quick slap that knocked the valuable pottery over. Taisch beamed to herself at the fabricated result of her newfound psi powers.
Beluga and Lazuli meandered elsewhere, the former scarfing down the base's entire supply of seafood that surrounded where she sat. Attempting to scarf them down as Beluga found to her chagrin again and again that despite being able to hold them with her apparition hands, her ghostly teeth continually sank through into nothing. She bit repeatedly, also gnashing in frustration at her inability to dine on her desired foods.
"Gah! Blast me and this cruel jest of a life! What good is a salty dog without the fine cuisine of the sea?!"
Lazuli did not reply as she sat staring off blankly. The interim left a moment to reflect on their circumstances and with the realization left a sense of apathy. She wondered what there was in this world now that they lingered as lost souls, questions such as what defined "living" - where were spirits considered? What remained for them? Where could they go?
And just where was Thiassi?
Suddenly, the calm was shattered. The front entrance was kicked open and two shadowed figures stood in the blinding sunlight. All the ghosts rubbed their eyes to see a beret-wearing uniformed woman and a maid in blue emerge, a broad carrier rigging on the former's back, a wide-headed spear in the latter's hand, and firm purpose written on both their visages. With such an aura, one could be forgiven for imagining them wearing sunglasses.
"Shall we?"
"Yes, Your Grace!"
Tea Time charged forward with a triumphant cry, the vacuum cleaner poised before her to with a blade of wind-sucking nozzle. It too roared with its master at full blast as she plowed straight towards the Aegir ghosts.
Taisch reeled back but found herself pulled forward, her horrified expression the last thing anyone saw as she vanished into the cleaner's gullet. "Aieeeee…!"
One down, the rest to go. Tea Time swung her weapon around and immediately the rest took flight. The maid gave chase but the ghosts scattered, phasing through walls in all directions.
But neither Tea Time nor Fort Grace were disheartened by this move. This was as they expected.
Over the whine of the vacuum cleaner crept another roar, one that intensified as an orchestra. The thundering apex brought with it sharp shapes that darted past and around Fort Grace, a flock of Phantoms that was the source of the approaching noise. While the engines were on full throttle, their howling was accompanied by the distinct whine of their curious payload slung to their underbellies.
With a wave of her hand, Fort Grace's Phantoms split up throughout the building, their belly-mounted vacuum cleaners active with an insatiable appetite for lint, particles, debris, and wandering spirits. The fighters dispersed down the many veins and arteries of the building - there was an ailment and the Phantoms were eager to be the cure.
One such plane thundered down a corridor to catch Lazuli in its sight, her expressions slack in shock as the plane barreled down on top of her. She turned to flee but spectral feet were no match for engines on full afterburners. Lazuli then found herself strangely slowing down before she felt herself pulled backward, feeling herself stretch…
And then darkness. The Phantom screamed ahead, another ghost claimed.
Fenris yapped as she darted down a passageway, bouncing around the hall in her mad bid to escape her airborne pursuer. Predator and prey weaved and swerved like crazy in the trench-like confines as the destroyer knocked over portrait frames and furniture. The rain of collateral fell in Fenris's wake, causing the chasing Phantom to duck and jink. With the need to preserve the precious weapon clutched in its hardpoints, the bird flew conservatively and for once, had to concede the pursuit.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Fenris gave a fanged grin as she made her getaway. She continued bolting on all fours until a shadow fell upon her in an instant.
She barely had time to comprehend the roar of a full-sized vacuum before her world became muted black.
Hoisting her cleaner up, another ghost claimed, Tea Time congratulated herself before pressing on. Between her and Fort Grace, only two remained.
Beluga and Kolga collided into each other as they emerged from the walls; their shared plan to escape did not take each other into account (let alone the logic in how ghosts could pass through solid objects but not themselves). The two fell with a wince but greater worries quickly returned to the fore as the howls of jet engines and the many vacuum cleaners slowly echoed into clarity.
"Shiver me timbers! It's The Flying Dustmen!"
"Aah! Make a break for it!"
The pair booked it down the hall, away from the growing sound of their pursuers. They turned the corner, only to be greeted by the sight of Tea Time. Her head turned just in time to be caught darting down a side corridor and the noises intensified.
They reached an intersection. They scrambled for a path to take away from the danger, but the whine of engines and intakes were all around them. A certain call from behind tore any time for deliberation.
"Ah-ha! There you are!" Tea Time's voice rang out, her gaze and nozzle of her instrument both eager to see the last remaining ghosts.
Kolga's eyes widened. She made a hasty grab for Beluga. "C'mon, just run!"
"Aye!"
The two sprang away down a passageway. They fled full tilt down wherever their path went, uncertain where it led them only to the safety they prayed for. But the reprieve was only very brief as dark flocks swarmed at the end of the corridor.
Kolga shrank from the sight as she led Beluga into a side room, unaware that her hand already held a tight grip on her partner. Diving inside, Kolga slammed the door shut. Her quick thinking paid dividends as the howling birds and cleaners roared loud behind them… only to wane away before the sounds faded into the distance.
Beluga deflated with great relief. "Now that be a sly move, Kolga. I knew ye to be a smart matey."
"Thanks," Kolga replied in between gulps of air. "To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure if it would work. But I'm glad it did… Guess simple doors can beat fighter jets." To this, Beluga gave a hearty chuckle at the joke.
An instant later, the door was slammed open and in the void stood Tea Time. Both Kolga and Beluga's gaping shock met the maid's ever-increasing predatory smirk.
Painfully aware of the timing, Kolga groaned. "... On the other hand, doors can't beat a person."
The vacuum nozzle swung down like a phalanx ready to skewer. "I have you now!" the maid declared. The two ghosts bolted away, the sucking air rippling right on their backs. The fringes of their corporeal forms began to stretch more and more - they would not be able to get away this time.
Kolga dove to the side to liberate her back from the sucking sensation, but a quick glance revealed that her freedom came at the expense of her partner whom Tea Time beared down on. The air around Beluga began to stir and whip, the jaws of the cleaner closing more and more around its prey as it continued to roar. There was no escaping for her.
"Just run to the side and phase through the wall you idiot!"
"Curse meeeeeeee…!" And with her final wail, Beluga was no more.
Kolga cursed under her breath as she vanished behind a wall. A second of darkness before her eyes saw light. She looked around and found herself in another hallway, coast clear. Taking a tentative step forward, Kolga considered her course of action. She tried to think but heard only her own nervous breathing for counsel.
But soon, the distant sounds of jet engines proved to be a compelling guidance. Alerted to the unseen but approaching interlopers, Kolga picked up the pace before she even saw shadows and shapes darting into view. She slipped through the wall again, leaning on the new tactic to evade her pursuers.
Kolga deliberated on what to do, the tense elusion shaping her thoughts. 'Screw this. I'll probably hide in the attic, keep my head low. I don't mind peeping in whenever they're watching TV or something…'
She drifted into an open room whereupon the silence was violated by the thundering cacophony of hot air, choking dust, and flying splinters. Kolga jumped with a start at the abrupt surprise; though spared from the shrapnel thanks to her form that thought scarcely took root in her mind as she scrambled in the smoke. Her hands groped about finding a way into clarity, but the smoke fully enveloped her. It continued to cling to her, following her wherever she went - or maybe Kolga wasn't moving anywhere she thought she was.
Her ringing ears faintly picked up a high whine. By the time she comprehended it, the world smashed to black.
From the settling dust a single Phantom screamed out, circling around as if to confirm the kill. Or in this instance, the capture of the final Aegir ghost.
Elsewhere, Fort Grace beamed. Mentally she made sure to congratulate Tea Time for her contributions and a small thanks to Eunomia for her radar support (who knew souls still possessed a radar cross-section).
"That's the last of them! Operation success!" she declared aloud, for everyone to hear.
Fort Grace dropped down onto her seat, letting the impact provoke a weary air out as she felt her body relax.
Tea Time couldn't help but chuckle at the sight as she stood by her side, cup of tea in hand. It was swiftly offered and swiftly accepted as the carrier collected herself to slowly sip the aromatic drink. She let out another sigh as she made herself home on the office chair, sunny view of the cityscape behind her.
She was never more glad to be back.
The two Delta ships smiled to themselves as they admired the scenery. The sun rising brilliantly over the Usean continent, just as they imagined back in the Rose Kingdom. It was still daytime when they had departed, after they had captured all the ghosts. With the spectral intruders all accounted for, it had been decided to encase them in a secured vault. It wasn't an ideal prison but everything that day was unprecedented. They were just thankful that the vessel actually held, the Aegir ships now barred behind an iron hatch, lock, and key.
Another job well done.
Fort Grace allowed herself another warm sip. "Well, that escapade made for an amusing sideshow. Doubt we'd ever forget a day like that."
"Certainly not," Tea Time nodded. "But I hope such an extraordinary moment remains as it is: a once-in-a-lifetime excursion. While it was quite the diversion, ghostbusting is not among the list of activities I would endeavor for long."
"Quite." With nary a grunt Fort Grace sat back up. Putting the cup aside a carpet of paper awaited her on the desk and she would not leave them waiting any longer. She plucked her pen and began attending to them; once again another day, another day of paperwork.
Then the phone rang.
The carrier cast a curious eye before picking it up.
Her expression quickly turned sour.
"Bloody hell…"
The entrance burst open. It was an act very familiar to Fort Grace and like before, she found herself in a familiar environment.
And to her horror, so was the situation.
The Rán Fleet huddled in the antechamber, their gaze and spiteful incantations directed skyward where their munitions created dazzling patterns in the ceiling. But past the smoke and flashes she quickly spotted the logic behind their actions.
All-too familiar wraiths swam in the air above their heads, smoky forms fluttering like bats. Two sets of voices filled the chamber: those of the Rán Fleet and those of the deceased Aegir Fleet.
"Rrgh! Piss off already!"
"Over our dead bodies you bimbos, and good luck trying to find that!"
"Stay dead, meddlers!"
"No way no way! This is too fun, too fun!"
"You born absolute assholes?! That's becoming my diagnosis!"
"Yar-har-har! It be our mental illness and we get to choose our coping mechanisms!"
In the heart of it all, one voice stood out. "Maintain position! All ships, hold fire! I repeat, hold fire! Dammit! That's an order!"
A hand forced Dysnomia to turn around as a certain aircraft carrier and maid occupied her vision. "What the hell happened?! How did these blokes return?!"
"They must have found a way to escape!" the battlecruiser answered, wrenching her shoulder free of the carrier's grip with an impatient snarl. "What's worse, they targeted our vacuum cleaners. They're either missing or disabled!"
Both Fort Grace and Tea Time gasped. "We're left without our trump card…?!"
Though not the first to ponder this question, Tea Time nonetheless asked with apprehension. "How are we to defeat the Aegir destroyers now? If our methods are ineffective…"
Dysnomia tightened her clenched jaw. Fort Grace looked crestfallen.
"... There is one option to turn to."
Tea Time and Dysnomia turned towards the carrier, her eyes still downcast. The two could catch a glimmer of resignation in them as she continued. "Though I am afraid of the implications that will be made should we resort to it."
"You don't-" the maid's eyes widened. "You don't mean-?!"
Fort Grace only nodded glumly. "Sadly, I do. Out of all options to consider in this unknown situation, this is the one that I know will work. If we are to ensure an unhaunted sanctuary, this must be done. We have no choice."
The carrier gave a great sigh as her hand reached for a phone. Her hand visibly trembled as she initiated speed-dial. Her breathing hastened as she waited for the call to go through.
Her stomach twisted all the tighter when someone did pick up.
Once again, the Rán headquarters fell without the din of explosions and curses. The dust had long settled, the broken debris now able to rest where they lay. The only noises came from the new inhabitants that roamed inner chamber, appropriated and despoiled by the occupying force of ghosts.
Beluga tended to her boredom with a discarded length of string, presumably liberated from a fancy Rose Kingdom tapestry that adorned the walls - a once-fancy tapestry. Although bored and still deprived of her preferred delicacies, Beluga found it preferable to being locked up in suffocating darkness, once alone with nothing but the headache-inducing pitched whine and later stuffed with all the others in an enclosed prison. She was still thankful that Thiassi figured a way past the padlock.
Her focus drifted to the others all congregated within the grand living room, all situated by the wide television. It blared loud and glowed even brighter, a godsend for the group's doldrums and a miracle that it managed to survive the recent events in one piece. The trite commercials and lackadaisical shows were more than enough to satisfy the group's cravings for entertainment.
Certainly better than being continually shot or shouted at. Or sucked by vacuum cleaners. Or trying to eat seafood in vain, the last part Beluga quietly cursed yet again.
Laid all over the weary sofa pockmarked by holes in which loose tufts of white were Lazuli, Kolga, Fenris, Taisch, and Thiassi. For a first, Fenris lay prostrated over Lazuli's lap in a deep snooze, the only signs of activity emanating from from her shaking tail and frings of her hair that twitched in sync with a tending hand on her head. Tasich belated her desire to catch up on the local horoscopes or to watch hokey reality shows over blase sitcoms. The only flickers of intensity came when Thisassi made moves to switch channels whenever no one was looking.
Kolga ignored it all as she sank into the seat, sandwiched by her fellow ghostly destroyers. She quietly grimaced at the disruption around her but Kolga was more than content to simply not complain. It was, after all, a period of calm that she wouldn't find anywhere else.
With everyone by her side, it almost harkened back to the good old days…
A door slammed open with a startling crack. So abrupt it was that everyone jolted in their seats, all eyes instantly zeroing in on the source as a figure stepped in. Already rational thoughts began to circulate. Another enemy counterattack? Have they devised another unlikely tactic to quell them?
As all destroyers looked, the truth quickly became worse than they imagined.
"Oh little girls~~! Your dotting big sister has returned! At long last~!"
The room swirled in a flurry of activity, the whole room swept up like a tornado. So eager and desperate the ghosts were to escape that their misty forms blurred with each other in a hasty retreat, slipping through every possible avenue they could find.
When it came to Ark Royal, it was every destroyer for herself.
The Royal Navy carrier advanced, trembling with ecstasy. A stupid grin was etched to her face even as the destroyers all evacuated from her presence. Ghosts or not, they were still recognizable - recognizably precious. And as far as she was concerned that was all that mattered. The lost souls would certainly be lonely after all…
Outside where echoes of inane giggling reached their ears, Fort Grace and everyone else privately cringed to themselves. The insurgency was finally quelled… but at what cost?
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
HistoricHippos:
Another update, another filler chapter. But this'll be the last one. I've had to cut out other filler content I had planned to add but I think I've kept you all waiting long enough.
Stay tuned for next chapter… the next story arc!