There's nothing like the feeling of being in command of your own fleet.
Admiral Ashiah beamed at the thought as she crossed her arms in front of her and looked out. Stretching before her was the bridge of the Imperial, which would act as the flagship for this operation. It was a pity. The admiral hoped that their true flagship would be completed by now…but it was only typical that Colonel Maritza would take her time with the one thing she was interested in. She further knew that she couldn't say anything against her while it was being built. If she did, she'd only end up hurting construction herself.
Ashiah was standing inside the command tower on the destroyer at the moment. Far ahead of her, the wall was clear and covered with plexiglass, from which she could look out not only at the three deck guns at the prow of the ship, but also the ocean and surrounding fleet. The bridge was filled with personnel. Consoles, computer screens, and electronics filled the area, lining the walls and floor. The room itself was divided into two levels, one lower and one higher. Ashiah was standing on a rail that blocked off a portion of the higher level at this point, in the prime position to give orders. Her chair was behind her, but she preferred to stand. Flanking her were two consoles with two officers in chairs, and there were other attendants working against the wall controls. On the lower level, there were even more stations and personnel. After all, it took a lot to work a craft like this. But these people had been hand-picked and well trained. They had been working simulations non-stop for three years, preparing for this day. Once this was over and the flagship was finished, they would be her crew aboard that ship. For now, the Imperial would have to do.
The communications officer suddenly looked up and put a hand to his headset, seeming to be listening to something. Ashiah caught this and turned her head to him expectantly. A moment later, the officer removed his hand, swiveled around in his chair, and faced her.
"Admiral…all captains and crews have reported in. All boats have launched. We are ready to proceed on your orders."
"Splendid." Ashiah answered with a nod. She turned after that. "Helmsman…direct us to Coordinates 326."
On hearing that, the helmsman suddenly paused, and looked up with a puzzled expression. She wasn't alone. The other members of the crew hesitated in their jobs. Some looked to each other a bit curiously. In the end, the helmsman turned her chair slightly behind her, and called back to the Admiral.
"With all due respect, madam… I read the briefing prior to boarding. General Leers' orders were to pilot the ship to Coordinates 331 and to make landfall there…"
"General Leers is at home on the land, but my domain is the sea." The admiral calmly responded. "I picked this crew not to go about running errands for his infantry, but to crush all opposition. We shall accomplish the goal that his ground officers have been unable to. We're piloting this fleet directly into the heart of the beast. We will destroy the flimsy defenses they have managed and invadeMidgar itself. Carry out my orders, helmsman."
The officer paused again for a moment. But in the end, she simply acquiesced. After all…the officers on this ship were far more loyal to Ashiah than to Leers…and they too shared some disgust at having the navy run back up missions while Leers left everything to the infantry, especially with how incompetent they had been as of late. She turned back to her console and began to operate the engines. "Aye, sir."
"Send a message to the rest of the fleet. Tell them we're moving out to those coordinates." Ashiah continued, smiling as she began to hear the hum of the destroyer's engines roaring to life.
"Kid…I really wish you'd reconsider this."
"What do you mean, 'he's indisposed'?" Ragnar nearly yelled into the cell phone. For once, he wasn't talking to a walkie-talkie, but on a different sort of communication device. Within Midgar, the PPA got coverage for free. Another benefit the city had conferred on it in exchange for protection. At any rate, he was ignoring Cloud for the moment. "We're about to go into battle! What's so important?"
The ex-mercenary rolled his eyes. "Ragnar…I really need to talk to you…"
"Tell him to get here ASAP!" Ragnar finally shouted, before hitting the end button and closing the phone up again. He turned back to Cloud shortly after, and tossed it to him. Still frowning, Cloud snatched it out of the air and began to shove it into his pocket. "Thanks for letting me borrow that again. How do I look?"
"Can you stop worrying about your damn uniforms for a change and listen to me?" Cloud darkly retorted. The two men were miles away from Midgar at this point. They were almost to the coast, right where theirdefenses were set. Behind them, the sandbag barrier was piled high, and the turrets slowly rotated, scanning for the enemy. Ground forces were also filling in behind the barricades. However, there were plenty of people around Ragnar and Cloud at the moment too. Many of them were workmen, putting the final touches on Ragnar's new weapons and loading them into the water. There were also the other twenty-three volunteers they had to pilot these things and attempt this mission. Further away, the rest of the army was setting up in the space between the barrier and the city, ready to mobilize the moment that they knew where the transports were landing if they got through. But until they did, the fight was going to be in the hands of the twenty-four who were moving out. It was night at this point, and many of the electrical lights that had been set up were going on, illuminating the area until it was time to move out. Then they would go dark and let night-vision scopes maintain cover of darkness.
"These things are as flimsy as hell, and you have no idea if this is going to work."
Ragnar crossed his arms and frowned in response. His arms squeaked a bit as the wet suit limbs rubbed against each other. "…Cloud, day in and day out I hear the same phrase, 'you have no idea if this is going to work'. You know what I say to those people? 'If you can think of a better idea, I'm all ears'."
The ex-mercenary frowned and groaned, crossing his arms in front of him as well. "You could get yourself killed out there."
"Maybe." Ragnar answered with a shrug. "But how would that be different from any other battle?"
Cloud kept his frown and rolled his eyes slightly, giving a bit of a groan.
"You know, usually you don't seem this concerned about me." Ragnar pointed out. "This isn't because you can't tag along after me this time, is it?"
"I don't call it tagging along." Cloud replied with some annoyance. "I call it covering your ass."
The youth frowned a bit himself at that, and uncrossed his arms. "…Cloud, I appreciate you trying to help me out around here…but I can take care of myself. Unlike how you keep calling me, I am not a kid. And in all honesty, if I ran around with you everywhere people might start thinking I really am incompetent. Once in a while, I'd like to do something for myself."
"Hey General!"
Cloud continued to frown and look down slightly. However, Ragnar heard this call, and turned behind him. He saw many other soldiers dressed in similar wet suits rushing down to the shoreline. Many of them had already put on their helmets. Lieutenant Mack, however, was one who hadn't, and he turned back to Ragnar expectantly. The workmen were loading the last of the modified jet skis into the water. One was placed on the shore, and this was the one that Captain Cid was standing over right now, calling the other soldiers to gather around. He puffed again on his cigarette before reaching out to Ragnar and beckoning. "If you're going to lead this little sortie, then get your ass over here!"
Ragnar grimaced a moment. But then, he turned his body around and moved to do what he said. His own helmet was strapped to his hip, and as he moved away he began to reach for it…
A strong hand clamped on his shoulder. It was hard and immediately halted him. Ragnar spun around to it, and found that he was looking at Cloud again. The ex-mercenary glared at him coldly for a moment, and held him in his gaze.
"…The Shinra televised executions to win support for their cause. They sealed their POWs into tanks filled with mako waste to turn them into monsters. They took me and my best friend, troopers in their own army, and turned us into lab rats. Hopefully, that helps you to understand why I don't relish the idea of you getting captured by them. So do me a favor…and come back here alive."
Ragnar stared silently back at Cloud. The ex-mercenary's voice had suddenly taken on surprising power and force, and even he couldn't dispute it right away. But before he could say anything else, Cloud released him and began to back away. His own blue gaze helda little longer than that, but in the end he turned and walked away slowly, heading back to the infantry. Ragnar stared at him a moment longer, but then turned and faced the shore. He soon ran down and joined the others, trying to shake that momentary surprise out of his mind.
The youth and the rest of the soldiers soon crowded around Cid and his craft. Once there, the man took out his cigarette to give a cough before shoving it back in and indicating below him.
"Alright ladies…here's your new rides." He gestured to the jet ski below. For the most part, it looked the same as it had been before. However, the front now had the barrel of a heavy machine gun mounted onto it. The back had some sort of array with four devices wielded to it that looked like bazookas. Both of these had wires that had been covered over with waterproof insulation and attached to the craft with black, waterproof gaff tape. They made their way to the front of the craft and to the handlebars, where their controls had been screwed in. They were rather crude. It looked like one of the switches was a common light switch… The entire craft had been spray-painted black.
"Now before you go shooting off on these things…keep this in mind. Most of these weapons are all but held on here with spit and sealing wax. So don't fiddle with them more than you need to. Good news is we're going to attack with the cover of darkness and they should have a hell of a time finding us. Bad news is we're going to attack with the cover of darkness and all of you untrained drivers will probably not even see each other, and if you get jittery you'll end up shooting one of your own. So use your brains out there.
"Controls are very simple. You rotate the right handle to make it accelerate. The more you turn and the longer, the faster you go. To slow down, you simply release the accelerator. There are no brakes on these things, so don't be some damn hot dog and only think about laying off the accelerator ten feet before you hit something. You all are wearing wet suits, so if you fall off and take a splash, don't get shot or hit by shrapnel on the way down, manage to avoid getting hit by the other skis, somehow don't get sucked under and chopped up by the propellers of the enemy fleet, and survive the sharks, jellyfish, rays…we might just pick you back up tomorrow afternoon, assuming the enemy fails in invading. The moral of that story…don't fall off.
"You'll notice a basic button on your right over your thumb. Depress that to fire the machine gun. You only have about 200 rounds, so keep that in mind. Release to cease fire. On the left you have four switches. Each one fires one of your missiles. Each should fire in a straight line. They have no targeting devices on them, and the ship has no targeting equipment on it either. You'll just have to line it up as best as you can and shoot. For those of you who weren't so good at math…four times twenty-four is ninety-six. That means that even if you all manage to sink a transport with each one of your missiles, there will still be four left. Moral of that story…don't waste shots.
"Each heavy transport is about a hundred foot long and twenty feet across. Each heavy transport has two manually aimed chain guns on the prow. The most vulnerable spot is on the sides. For those of you who ain't getting what I'm insinuating, that means that your best strategy is to sweep around long on approach, come around from the back, and then hit them on the sides in a flank. Veer off after doing so, or you'll be running by the chain guns with your back to them.
"There are five destroyers guarding this fleet. You'll know which ones they are. They're the big ones. I'm not going to bother to tell you what their vulnerable points are, because you can't hit them. I'm also not going to bother to tell you how to best proceed with attacking them, because you can't sink them. It would take this entire squad of jet skis to sink one. If you find yourself getting near any of them, then turn your ass around and find yourself getting away from them.
"Now, each one of your helmets has a headset inside it. That's all you're going to get in terms of cohesion out there, because we didn't have time for anything else. All of you better do your best to know where someone else is though, or you're going to lose men due to friendly fire. Like I said before, visibility is really low. Luckily, the moon's out tonight, so you should get some basis for seeing them. Some of them will also have lights on, which will help better. At the bare minimum, you should see some giant bulks in front of you. Shoot the longer sides. It's that simple. Now I've got a sonar charge placed in the water and I'm running radar, so I can direct your squad generally. After that, it's up to you. Once you're out of ammunition, unless you like the idea of dodging bullets…turn the craft around and move out perpendicular to the fleet. You'll be the most clear from that way. Once you're at a safe distance, turn and come back to shore. Any questions?"
The twenty-four pilots were all silent.
Cid gave a nod. "Good, 'cause I already told you all you needed to know, and if you weren't listening the first time it's your own damn fault. Start loading up. I'm going to be headed to the Highwind. We'll be moving out as soon as the enemy hits radar range, which could be anytime after the next fifteen minutes. Good luck, you crazy sons of bitches." With that, the Captain turned and began to march away, leaving the twenty-four behind. Only a cough was supplemented to that last phrase. The pilots were left behind with their craft already in the water.
Ragnar frowned slightly. Could have done without that last epitath…He thought as he raised his own helmet from his waist and began to put it on his head. The rest of the pilots began to move down to shore to mount up on their own craft. Ragnar had just finished slipping his helmet on and was moving to join them, when he felt a tug on his shoulder. He turned, and found himself looking at Lieutenant Mack.
"One other thing, sir." He asked. "What are we calling ourselves? What's our designations?"
The general hesitated after hearing that. He turned his head up and thought a moment. Well…this was the Planet Protector Army. And they were a bunch of attackers moving on the sea… However, something about calling everyone "Leviathans" didn't really appeal to him. It was too long and complex a word to say over radios. However…he did know one other infamous esper of the sea. Suppose they named themselves after him…?
Ragnar turned back to Mack after a moment, and announced his decision.
"The Bismarks."
"I didn't know we'd have this low visibility…"
"This is Captain Highwind. We're in a combat zone, soldier. Announce your designation prior to any and all communication."
"Sigh…this is Bismark 10, and I didn't know we'd-"
"Captain Highwind to Bismark 10…cut the damn chatter. This is a combat zone."
Ragnar grimaced a bit beneath his helmet, and tried to get a better feel for the handling of his jet ski. It didn't really matter now. They were only going forward. There wasn't much time for them to practice any skills. All of the Bismarks had taken off from shore about three minutes ago. Now, they were racing across the ocean. Nothing except the spray of water and the sea of shimmering blackness for miles in every direction. There was a blackout on shore, and so the group was surrounded by darkness save for the moonlight. Their own jet skis lacked lit up consoles. The enemy had been spotted approaching not long ago…and they were headed for the defenses. Ragnar thought this was a little stupid to be going right into the throat…but whatever. Perhaps they still underestimated him.
Surrounded by water on every side, racing forward to a much larger, more armored, more equipped, and deadlier fleet…Ragnar began to feel nervous. He swallowed slightly and tried to steady his breathing. He had hoped this wasn't a giant mistake. Bahamut's training hadn't really covered much of what they were about to do, so he hadn't any aptitudes there…
Thinking of that, however, distracted the youth. Bahamut… He hadn't heard from him in six months…not since he said he would be talking to him for the last time. Wyvern hadn't come back, so by now he reasoned that Wyvern was dead. But as it had happened so many times in the past…had they critically injured each other? Killed each other? The young man prayed that wasn't so. He hoped that Bahamut was just holding on to his previous decision to leave him alone. If not…that would mean that the last of the espers were dead… His beloved master was dead…
"Captain Highwind to all Bismarks. Radar shows they are closing a mile ahead."
Ragnar was snapped out of his thoughts. He returned to the present. Immediately, he frowned and shook his head. He couldn't think about that now. He had to keep his wits about him. He only hoped the New Shinra were mostly blind to this attack. If not…they were in big trouble. He looked on deeper into the darkness…but for now could see nothing. It wouldn't be until they were close enough to start casting shadows and blocking out the stars that they would see them…unfortunately. Hopefully, the fire that was bound to come soon would illuminate things a bit better.
It's time.
Ragnar spoke into his own headset. "Bismark Leader, standing by."
"Bismark 2, standing by."
"Bismark 3, standing by."
"Bismark 4, standing by."
"Bismark 5…"
As the rest of the skis sounded off, Ragnar swallowed again and began to hover his itchy thumb over the triggers. On the plus side…though a grim plus side…if they all died, the PPA would have only lost twenty-four units…
"We're detecting the enemy aircraft approaching on our radar."
Ashiah gave a calm nod. "Prepare the anti-aircraft guns and artillery. I don't want it to get in range of any of the ships."
The officers went about their work. Ashiah herself was still standing against the railing. After all, they were only a few miles within range at this point. She had sat earlier, but she wanted to be on her feet for this. She wanted to see if she could actually go through this entire battle without having to shift weight… That would be yet another personal achievement for her. She kept her eyes focused on the outside, although there was little to be seen at this point. There was some light a bit later, as the guns began to start firing into the sky, and the ship shook a bit from the tremors. However, she didn't hear any of it. The chamber was almost sound proof.
Things were proceeding as planned, it seemed.
"Admiral…"
Ashiah detected confusion as she heard this voice. That, in turn, made her a bit puzzled as well. She turned her head down to who had spoken, only to find herself looking back to the radar chieftan.
"What is it?" She addressed.
"I'm not sure, madam… But we're detecting numerous small objects on a collision course for the fleet."
The admiral was surprised at this. She raised an eyebrow. "…Enemy ships? That's impossible. We know they don't have any battleships of their own."
The officer shook his head. "No madam, not battleships. These are far too small."
Ashiah hesitated at this. Small objects? She didn't know what they were supposed to be… However, based on the history of the PPA, they had a tendency to use traps where their numbers were insufficient. Perhaps they were mines of some sort…or boats loaded down with explosives that were sent toward them. In either case, it might present a problem…or at least a nuisance. She looked back up to the helmsman.
"Drop speed. Prepare a course to avoid."
"Madam!"
Ashiah found herself cut off again, and once more by the same officer. But this time, his voice was louder and more worried-sounding. She turned to the officer, as did several of the adjacent ones.
"They're splitting! They're breaking away from the fleet!"
Ashiah looked up in puzzlement to that again. She knew what that meant. These things had to have controls installed in them. Something was steering them. It would make more sense for living bombs… After all, just simply sending boats forward with explosives wouldn't do much. Of course…how they could wire up the long range controls was beyond her… Her thoughts were soon cut off again, though. The Imperial suddenly shifted a bit, wider than it should have from just their own shots. The woman frowned a bit in response. She had nearly been forced to move her feet on that one. She turned to the gunner.
"…I specifically told you to make sure it didn't get within range of any of the ships, ensign."
"My apologies, madam." The gunner responded from his console. "The enemy aircraft…it suddenly became a lot bolder. It actually took a few of our shots in order to go down and launch a sortie of its own. It's more aggressively harassing us. I'll try to compensate…"
However, on hearing this, Ashiah raised an eyebrow again. More aggressive? Why would it suddenly be doing that, willingly taking hits in order to give them a few? She thought that an ex-Shinra captain was supposed to be in charge of that aircraft. He wouldn't be dumb enough to try and get into the crossfire of a destroyer, unless he was-
The admiral paused, her eyes widening slightly.
"…Radar, switch to longer range sweeps. Find the objects that broke away."
The officer gave a nod, and adjusted a few controls on his console. Ashiah turned full attention to him as he did so. She already believed she knew what had happened…and felt slightly dumb for not seeing it earlier. If it was what she suspected, then perhaps this PPA was a bit more resourceful than she thought…
A moment later, the officer's eyes widened and he backed off a bit from his own console. "…They're behind us, madam…and they're turning around to come again from behind."
The other officers looked up a bit at that, and looked around a bit nervously to one another, realizing that this was a sure sign that an attack was coming. The admiral frowned, and looked out ahead at the open glass in front of her. She gave a slight snort as she grimaced.
"Clever little runt…isn't he…?"
Moments later, an alarm went off in the bridge. Ashiah recognized it immediately. It was the distress signal alarm…meaning that a ship was in trouble and contacting them. The communications officer, a bit stunned himself, suddenly snapped out of it and went to his own console. He pressed a few buttons on it, getting the transmissions patched through. After that, his own eyes widened a bit. He turned his head behind himself and called out in a more intense voice. He kept holding the receiver to his ear, getting information from the outside.
"Madam…three…no, four of our transports have been hit. They're taking in water."
The woman looked down to the officer. "Hit? By what?"
"…Reports say missiles of some sort. Other transports are beginning to call in. They're under attack as well."
Ashiah frowned once again. She looked back up and out to the glass andmuttered aloud. The rest of the officers below began to tense up, being in combat for the first time, and already getting more action than they had expected. They were still calm, or they wouldn't be on this ship, but they were still getting anxious. "Small, missile-carrying boats…" Ashiah remarked aloud as she stared. "So…he's rather resourceful as well…"
"They're sweeping into our fleet, coming in the spaces between boats." The radar officer announced.
"Orders, admiral?" The communications officer asked.
"Prepare the flanking defenses. Tell all destroyers to do the same, and put the fleet on red alert. Begin to move the transports in closer to their nearest destroyer. Terminate the attackers."
I think I'm going to be sick…
Ragnar thought this as he dove into the midst of the New Shinra Navy. He could see little…just great black towers arising on every side. All around him, the attacking Bismarks dropped into the fleet. Missiles soon rang out, and explosions began to light up the area. Just in front of Ragnar, he saw a streak of fire before an eruption on the ship to his right. Nervously, he inched his jet ski away from it, trying not to go into a panic move. The battle was in full swing now. The Bismarks were falling on the enemy like flies on a carcass. Gunshots soon began to fill the air as well as missile fire as the Bismarks opened fire too, using their weapons to puncture holes into the sides of the fleet.
The youth was panicking a little. Now he was caught in the drags of the closing ships, being pushed turbulently around. He had to swerve rapidly as he weaved his way into the enemy fleet, dodging through boats and ships and trying not to get anywhere near their lethal propellers. It was all he could do to keep moving his way through this steel jungle, let alone fight back.
At last, he realized he had to try something. This was an attack run. He needed to shoot. He swerved the jet ski one way at last as he moved between two boats, and moved to flick the switch to fire. However…he panicked. He was closing too quickly, and he looked like he was going to crash. Immediately, he swerved out of the way as he was firing. In response, the missile fired off, but it was parallel to the ship. It sailed out over the ocean for a few meters before hitting the water and detonating. Ragnar managed to avoid the fire and steam that resulted, swerving around it, but he had failed to do anything to the ship. And now, he was racing by. He cursed himself a little. Maybe he shouldn't have come out here…
"Bismark 2 to Bismark Leader…watch me, sir!"
A moment later, Ragnar felt a spray of water as another ski suddenly shot past him. The driver on board was not afraid to be going full speed, it seemed, and soon he tore past Ragnar and left him in the dust…or foam, whatever was more appropriate. Ragnar looked up in puzzlement to this. Was that the person who had just contacted him? How had he done that? He could actually recognize him out here? He didn't know…but his memory began to register as who had taken the designation of Bismark 2. It was Lieutenant Mack…the only other officer out here. Ragnar soon felt himself gun up his engine a bit so he wouldn't lose him, and began to gain again.
"Bismark Leader to Bismark 2…Mack? You recognized me?"
"Bismark 2 to Bismark Leader… Of course, sir! I've been keeping track of who's who since we started!"
Ragnar was amazed. Someone could actually keep track in all of this dark chaos? While trying to dodge and fight?
"Follow my lead on the next one, sir! Move like this! Don't veer off until the shot's away!"
Ragnar continued to keep up with Bismark 2, especially since it suddenly dropped speed a bit. However, it was only a little. It was still moving fast as the craft shoved to the left, almost against the transport on the opposite side. After doing that, Ragnar saw Mack rise from his seat as he made a sharp turn, using his body to pitch the jet ski around on a hard right, and bring it back at an acute angle to the ship on the opposite side. A moment later, a missile roared as it shot out from Mack's weapon and impacted the side of the transport. Another spurt of fire and flame, this time mixed with debris, and a hole had been punctured in its side, which began to take on water. Right after firing, Mack rose and pitched back again, this time to the left, and brought his jet ski away and straightened out again.
Despite all the dodging that he had to do, Mack turned his head back in his seat to look at the general.
"Try it, sir!"
Ragnar couldn't believe it. Mack was like a trained pro already. Was this because of the snowmobile training? He didn't know…but he decided to give it a shot. Bahamut had trained him to jump into new things with concentrated effort. It didn't look that hard…he thought.
Nervously, Ragnar inched his craft over to the side. He didn't get as close to the left as Mack had, and he slowed down his craft more than he did. However, he was still going at a fairly good speed as he ran along the edge. After that, he looked to his opposite side. He let another transport go by him before he got the bravery to try this. Then, swallowing, Ragnar stood up slightly in his seat, and managed to lean a bit as he gave his jet ski a hard right. It wasn't as sharp as Mack…so he leaned a little more. At that, he went almost too far…and he took too long. Now, he was headed for a collision. He panicked. In another moment, he would have broken off the attack. Yet somehow, he steeled himself enough to fire the next switch on his craft. He forced himself to stay steady until the shot was off, and then quickly rose up again and leaned back to the left. Again, he was too sharp, and he nearly fell off of his ski this time. Yet as he felt gravity start to give, he quickly thrust himself back in the seat, and with a wobble managed to level off. As he did…his own shot struck the side of the enemy transport, even lower than Mack's. The damage was done, and another hole was punctured into the side.
"Yahoo! Great shot sir! You cut it a bit close…but it did the job."
Ragnar nervously exhaled. He supposed that wasn't that bad for a first try… Maybe he'd have a bit more confidence on the next one. He only had to fire two more shots off, after all…
The youth soon had something else to occupy his mind, however, as he heard something new spring up. Gunshots opened fire from overhead. Ragnar continued to race by, but he looked up and saw that the transports were now opening fire. Their bullets tore apart the water all around him, struggling to hit him and the other riders. As he passed by one boat…he caught a glimpse of a ski to his far left. He saw a streak of bullets hit it…and immediately it erupted into flame. The pilot was flung off as it exploded. A hailstorm of heavy fire soon impacted all around them, struggling to do the same to the others.
The general paled, realizing that he was in the same location as everyone else, and that he still had a ways to go before he was clear enough to move back. He would have to dodge them. But there were so many…and they were shooting all around…
Now what?
"Bismark 2 to Bismark Leader! Don't slow down! You'll be an easy target!"
Ragnar snapped out of his moment of fear. To his astonishment, he realized that was what he was doing. He had taken his hand off of the accelerator, and was now drifting into the firepower. Immediately, he grabbed it and gunned it again. It was a good thing…because he just narrowly missed having a bead drawn on him. Yet even as he did this, he removed his hand again. He didn't want to go through this crazily… He'd be dead for sure…
"Follow my lead sir! And don't fall back! Keep up!"
To Ragnar's surprise, the jet ski in front of him suddenly launched into full throttle, and tore off in between the boats. He didn't seem to mind the shots going on around him at all. The general didn't have time to pause. He was already being left behind. Crazy as he thought Mack was acting, he soon pushed his own craft up to full throttle and followed after him. Bismark 2 slowed down only long enough for Ragnar to fall in behind him, but then took off again, forcing Ragnar to go to full speed to keep up.
Ragnar soon experienced a nightmare similar to what had happened in the valley, only much worse in his opinion. Bullets tore apart the water all around the two Bismarks as they raced through the trench between boats. It even looked as if they passed a destroyer at one point with its own extra guns. However, Ragnar didn't think of that. He thought only of Mack, and struggled to match him. The man swerved in and out of all the lanes of fire, dropping speed one moment and then accelerating the next. He swerved dangerously again and again, narrowly missing fire but working his way onward none the less. He rose out of his seat more than once for the dangerous turns. To follow, Ragnar had no choice but to mimic him, though he feared he would fall over every time. Somehow, he stayed put, and the two of them continued to go through. Ragnar felt nearly crazy following after Mack, matching his pace and worming his way through all of these shots. And yet, somehow…both of them made their way through…
At last, the two made it to the front of the fleet. Mack next hung a sharp right, which Ragnar was again forced to follow. It was good practice. By doing so, they shoved themselves up against the enemy transport guns. Now, they were too close to be in firing range. They could only helplessly shoot over them as they raced around the fleet again, making their way to the sides to commence their next pass.
"Whoo-hoo! We showed them, general! This is great!" Mack cheered out on his headset.
Ragnar himself swallowed a bit, still trying to get his heart to calm down. "C-Copy, Bismark 2…"
A new blip of static soon sounded through their ears, however.
"Captain Cid to Bismark 2…you crazy son of a bitch! Where the hell did you learn to drive like that? Why the hell aren't you up here piloting this thing?" A brief pause, and then what sounded like it was directed to someone not on the radio. "Oh, don't give me that look! You do fine too!"
Ragnar steadied himself a bit more, ignoring this chatter. However, now that he had gone through the crash course with Mack, and learned what he was capable of on this machine, he felt a bit more confident with it. On that note, he called out again to the remaining ships. "…Bismark Leader to all Bismarks…let's come around and give them another pass. Watch carefully to make sure you aren't hitting one that's already damaged."
"Status report."
"Twenty-three transports report being damaged. Seven of them are critically damaged. Those seven will be sunk within ten minutes. The others can stay afloat longer, but not long."
Ashiah's look was officially a frown now. She could see some of this happening right in front of her. She watched the waves on either side of her ship periodically have a black bulge ride alongside them, before she saw bursts of flame erupt on the ships surrounding her. It seemed that the little army was able to make do with what little they had. It wasn't much…but it did seem enough to frustrate the navy for now. If they had managed to do that much damage to the transports this quickly…then they might yet be able to thwart the invasion. Because Ashiah had taken the fleet straight in to the bay, they would have to fight their way through their defenses. And if they didn't manage to disable them in a certain length of time, the transports damaged would be sunk as well. They didn't have the time to go around now.
However, that only made the Admiral more determined…and angry. She had led this attack straight into the belly of the beast, disobeying orders to prove her power. If the transports couldn't make landfall, she would have no choice but to turn back. The invasion would be a failure, and it would be blamed solely on her failure to follow orders. She wasn't about to accept that. She wasn't going to be lumped into the same category as the bumbling fools on land.
"How many have we hit?"
"Their attackers are too small and quick, and they have darkness as a cover." One of the gunners reported with an air of frustration. "We can't hit them with the chain guns. And they're coming in from behind, so they can attack us before they present a target. We've only gotten two out of an estimated twenty-four."
The admiral nearly growled. This was all her crack team of gunners could do? Two of them? It was time to stop playing around. They had proven themselves more than a nuisance now.
"Radar…patch in your readings into the deck guns. Prepare to fire on the attackers."
A few of the officers turned in a bit of surprise to that. The first mate herself turned around from her command chair, and looked to the Admiral in confusion. "Madam…the deck guns are meant to damage enemy battleships. Isn't using them to destroy boats of this size…a bit much?"
Ashiah turned back to the first officer calmly, and after a pause replied rather simply. "Well…it seems as if our gunners, in their inability to destroy things that would take one or two bullets to detonate," Here, she leveled a gaze at the gunners, who immediately cringed and turned back to their stations. "Have rendered such measures necessary. Carry out my orders. Captain…you have the bridge."
With that, the Admiral swept around and began to walk to the exit. Now, the officers were really surprised. Almost everyone looked up from what they were doing and turned back to the commanding officer. The first mate leapt up from her own chair and rushed to the command seat, but she continued to have her head turned to the leaving Admiral, looking totally puzzled at this recent turn of events. She stared incredulously as she opened the door to the exit.
"Admiral…where are you going?"
Ashiah paused in the doorway when she heard this. After that, she turned calmly around and faced the first mate.
"…It's like I always say, Captain. You want something done…you have to do it yourself."
It took Ragnar a bit, but just before breaking out of the second pass, he managed to fire his third missile. He wanted to make sure he had a clean shot, and now he had to worry about gunfire as well. He practiced the technique a few times on his own, but finally he successfully launched it. As intended, it impacted on another transport, and soon gave it another critical wound. He pulled out a moment later, moving away from the fleet, and then once again banked to the right in order to bring the attack around again.
Seven other jet skis soon fell in alongside him, turning at the same time. Mack was one of them, who Ragnar had made sure to stay close to since the first part of the battle. As they spun around and began to make their way back up alongside the fleet at a distance, the general realized they were doing it. Some of the transports were going down, but even those that were damaged had almost ceased fire. The enemy guns weren't being that successful. They were too fast, and had only lost three. As the pilots became better at driving, they continued to dodge and cut their losses. They were getting used to this now… This might just be possible…
"…Incoming!"
Ragnar snapped up at that…but soon that sound was forgotten. A sonic whistle replaced it…the sound he recognized as that of an artillery shell. Before he or the others could react, however…a massive explosion rocked him from behind, totally obliterating one of the Bismarks. One that was too near to the eruption had its rider thrown off from the explosion, as a terrific tower of fire and smoke rose from the sea. Ragnar and the other pilots winced from the deafening sound of the boom, and struggled to maintain their own heading as they shot on.
The youth quickly snapped his head around in shock. "What happened? What was that?"
He soon got his answer. One of the destroyers on his right, still far up ahead, suddenly emitted a burst of light. Moments later, another whistle cut through the air before an artillery shell impacted another Bismark, immediately turning it into a pillar of fire. Again, Ragnar and the others felt their craft rocked violently from this, and they had to struggle to stay in control. The general himself looked up in a panic to the destroyer.
"It's the destroyers…they're opening fire with the deck guns."
"What can we do?" A panicked pilot cried over to communicator.
Ragnar thought for a brief moment. "…All Bismarks! Angle in closer to the fleet! They'll overshoot us!"
"But we'll run into the machine gun fire!"
"Right now…I'm willing to take those chances over these."
Ragnar immediately pitched his jet ski to start angling toward the fleet. Mack quickly followed suit. The other two pilots aimed in, and soon the four were racing back to the fleet once again. The deck guns fired, but just as Ragnar planned…they overshot them. The shells detonated harmlessly behind them, although they felt the power of the explosions push them on as they came in closer. They didn't have to do this long. They only had to get close enough to where they went behind the ability of the deck guns to aim. The artillery fired a few more times, trying to smack them away as they closed, but failed on each.
A moment later, however, the machine gunfire erupted. They were close enough now. It was even harder at this point to dodge, with it flying in their faces. However, they did have some element of speed, giving the enemy less time to target than they had while moving away. Ragnar, Mack, and the other two only moved in a bit longer, outstripping the machine guns as they continued to flail away at them. But then, abruptly, they shifted into a sharp turn back to the left. Not only did this succeed in shaking off the machine guns and getting them back out of range, but they had passed by the range of the deck guns as well. They were in the clear once more, and once again racing to the end of the fleet.
They soon reached it and began to turn around, to sweep in again from the back. As they did, Ragnar gave a sigh of relief.
"That was close."
"Captain Cid to Bismark Leader…will you guys start using your damn designations again? I can't understand what the hell is going on down there. And by the way…so long as I'm yelling at you, you better know that the transports are pulling in close to the sides of the destroyers. They're trying to make more room to shoot with the deck guns while crowding you out from going in between. You're going to have to cut off pretty soon."
Ragnar frowned a bit in response as he finished bringing his craft around, and started to race back into the mix along with the other three pilots. "Bismark Leader to Captain Cid…that's not good enough. We've only taken out about half of the transports. We need to do at least one more attack run if not two."
"Well, hurry the hell up then!" Cid shouted back. "I ain't exactly invincible up here neither, and…" Suddenly, the captain trailed off.
Hearing this, the general rose an eyebrow. "Captain?"
There was a second's pause. "…Shit. Watch yourselves down there. Radar shows there's an extra one of you."
"Extra one of us?" One of the pilots returned. "What does that-"
That was all the pilot got out before Ragnar, Mack, and the one remaining Bismark heard another loud explosion rip from behind them. In surprise, they wheeled around to see what happened, just as their skis went into the newest boat trench. They were just in time to see the man who had been talking vanish into a cloud of fire and debris. The general was shocked for a moment, before he saw the source.
Coming in fast behind them was a sleek, black boat. It looked like a speedboat of some sort, being just a great spear-head on the water. It had no visible cockpit or propellers. It only had its own smooth shape, and shining surface. Well, that…and two holes that had opened on the sides. Ragnar only stared at them a moment before he saw yellow streaks of light start coming out of them, and tearing up the water behind the other Bismark.
Quickly, Ragnar turned to the man and began to yell. "Bail out! Bail-"
It was too late. The shots tore into him a moment later, and a powerful eruption resounded. Ragnar shielded himself and cried out as hot metal debris burst from the craft and struck him, hitting his helmet and leaving dents, and burning away at part of his wet suit. Losing control, Ragnar spilled to one side,dropping speed as he did so. The water continued to slam into him, as did the force of the blast. One of his ears rang from it. He was totally disorientated as his ski went to the side and scraped against the edge of the nearest sinking transport.
This ironically appeared to save his life…because the black boat only raced past him, casting up more foam to push him harder into the craft. It focused its remaining attention on Mack, seeming to think that the shrapnel from the blast had killed Ragnar. However, after it went by, Ragnar quickly recovered. He was still a bit dizzy, but he managed to look up and saw what was going on. The boat was still in hot pursuit of Mack, and the two of them were racing away, going down the trench. Seeing this, Ragnar quickly gunned in engine to maximum, and took off after the bogey.
Ragnar didn't know if the enemy was slowing to fire, or if Mack was actually slowing down to give him a chance to speed up. But somehow, Ragnar began to gain distance on the two. Yet even as he did so, the bogey was already opening fire. To Ragnar's surprise, Mack began a series of sharp and dangerous turns and moves, actually using the waves to his advantage to propel himself upward on small jumps. Some of his turns were so sharp that he actually leapt up in his seat and almost leaned out of the ski to make it go faster. The black boat, however, had a very good gunner. It hounded him just as doggedly, barely missing him with each shot. Some even looked like they hit…but at the worst they had only grazed him.
"Bismark 2 to Bismark Leader…I could use some help here, general!"
"Bismark Leader to Bismark 2…hang on just another second, Mack. I'm almost in range…"
And he was. Perhaps Mack was slowing down to cause his enemy to slow as well, for Ragnar soon managed to slip in behind. Gritting his teeth, and hoping to shoot correctly, Ragnar depressed the trigger button and opened fire with his heavy machine gun. His own large bullets soon thundered out and moved in. Unfortunately, he wasn't that good at being a gunner yet. His bullets waved dangerously, and most just struck the water uselessly. Gritting his teeth, he pumped the craft up a bit further, struggled to keep up with the black boat's own weaving, and opened fire again.
To the general's surprise, his bullets did nothing. Most of them missed, but he still hit with a considerable number. Yet they merely made sparks, and then appeared to do nothing. No holes…no smoke…nothing at all. Had he hit it and not done any damage? He didn't think so… It looked like the shots simply weren't doing anything… All he did was cause an interruption in the fire of the bogey. Apparently…its pilot seemed to realize that it still had an enemy behind it.
Ragnar grit his teeth again in frustration. "It's armored…I can't get a shot through!"
"Try a missile, general!"
The youth paused at that. He only had one left. These missiles were supposed to be for blowing up more transports… But he soon realized this bogey was the bigger concern. If guns wouldn't damage it, then this was the only resort. Besides, this pilot was good. He could tell that right now. Their own inexperienced pilots could barely do a bombing run, let alone a dogfight. And he was only in this position due to luck. It might not happen again. In the end, he conceded.
Quickly, Ragnar tried to line himself up as best he could. The boat ahead continued to waver around, and yet didn't open fire again on Mack. The general knew he would only get one shot at this, and he couldn't afford to miss. He continued to hold and wait, seeing if it would hold still long enough to have a chance for success. But every time it seemed to stop long enough, it would move before Ragnar could get the confidence to fire. He cursed to himself. Sweat began to mount on his brow. He felt his stomach turn. But still, he inched over and readied…
Finally, the ship seemed to move over to the left, against the transport on that side. It held there. At last, Ragnar's brain registered. He flicked the switch, and the final missile shot out for the bogey.
To Ragnar's shock, the boat suddenly doubled its speed. Foam was sprayed up behind it in a large cloud before it thundered forward. A moment later, the missile missed and impacted the side of the transport instead. Ragnar couldn't rejoice in his lucky shot, however. The bogey had gotten away. What more…he was headed right for his own flame and shrapnel. Immediately, he closed his eyes and cringed.
A second later,fire and more debris went by him. He felt it strike against his helmet again, and more of his wet suit was singed and melted. But in the end…he managed to make it through alive. Once the feeling of cool water struck him again, Ragnar opened his eyes and straightened up. To his surprise…the bogey was gone. Mack was still roaring up ahead, but the boat had disappeared. The general looked around in confusion for a moment. Did he get it after all?
"Bismark 2 to Bismark Leader…it veered off. It used the fire as a smoke screen to turn around. General…get out of here. You're out of missiles. I think it's coming back around to try and pick you off."
Ragnar was stunned into silence again at that sudden answer. He began to protest. "But…lieutenant…"
He was cut off again a moment later. It wasn't by the bogey, however. It was by a massive eruption nearby. A wave of water suddenly struck Ragnar, and another wave splashed down on him. It soaked through the holes in his clothing and began to drench him. Whirling around, Ragnar looked to see what had done it. It turned out they were in a bad position. The trench he was in had widened now, with the ships on his left clustering around one destroyer, and the ships on his right clustering around the destroyer that was now firing. There was now enough room to target the two jet skis.
Mack's Bismark suddenly slowed down. He had cut off the accelerator, and now he was letting the turbulence of the water further slow him down.
"Go now! I'll be fine!"
Ragnar continued to catch up, until he nearly reached the side of Bismark 2. He looked nervously over to the pilot, but he could see nothing beneath his own expressionless helmet. He thought of staying and trying something. He didn't want to run away. But in the end…he realized that he wasn't nearly as good a pilot as Mack was. And he had no missiles left. It would be suicide for him to stay. Uttering a silent prayer in hope for safety, Ragnar looked back ahead and gunned his engines once more. Soon, he was roaring by the pilot.
As Ragnar sped away, he could only go so far before he turned around to see what was happening. To his surprise, Mack had come to a stop up next to one of the enemy transports. He was slowing down to a mere drift. The general watched this, and thought he was crazy. What did he think he was doing? Whatever it was, it had been a help to him. Ragnar noticed that the three deck guns ignored him, but turned their attention to the motionless jet skier. The youth suddenly feared the worse. He wasn't sacrificing himself for him…was he? That was ludicrous… Filling with mounting fear, Ragnar opened his mouth to yell at Mack to move…
But it was too late. One of the deck guns let out another poof of smoke and flame as it fired.
Yet only at that moment did Mack turn the accelerator to full blast. A moment later, nearly grinding foam behind him, Bismark 2 lurched forward. It was just in time. A sonic whistle pierced the air, and the huge shell just missed taking his head off. However…the gunners on the destroyer had been a little too antsy…and not careful enough. The shell missed Mack completely…but it sank into the hull of the transport behind him a moment later.
As Bismark 2 lurched away, propelled by the force of the explosion, a true artillery blast struck the transport. A spurt of terrific flame and debris belched from its side, and the inside distorted and twisted from the blast. A gaping hole far bigger than what their own shots had done was soon formed, and Mack was going away with only a little heat and bits of debris to show for it. Immediately, the guns on the ship halted, realizing what they had just done in horror. Apparently, Mack had learned another weakness. The fleet was too close together. So long as the Bismarks stayed close to the transports opposing the destroyers' fire, they couldn't shoot without sinking their own men.
Ragnar could help but smile and give a chuckle, before he turned and quickly zoomed away himself. Yet even he didn't realize that Mack hadn't just planned on letting the destroyers off one of their own transports…but had just enacted the first step of an even wilder plan.
I sure hope I know what I'm doing…
Mack sped away from the collapsing boat, trying to put a good distance between himself and it. He hoped that Ragnar was getting away alright… However, that didn't fix the fact that what he was about to do was insane. It depended on a lot of things working that were beyond his control…and it might actually kill him. He only hoped that all of his snowmobile practice until now had worked out, and that it had a good correlary with the jet skis he was riding.
Once he was at a good distance, Mack cut the accelerator. Making a sharp turn, he whirled his craft around and faced it forward, letting it come to a stop once it did. After that, he sat back and waited nervously for a few moments. He was in the clear for now, alongside a still functional transport. That protected him from the destroyer to his left firing. Up ahead, he saw the destroyer on the right, and saw the transports closing in around it. One of those that had been doing so was the transport that was just destroyed. Right now, it was sinking and sinking quickly. But, just as Mack had hoped, one end of it was taking on water faster than the other. As the boat began to submerge, he saw that it had distinctly made an angle…particularly in the roof section. What more, that angle was somewhat raised up to the destroyer nearby, which continued to have its transports draw nearer…and pounded away at the sky, trying to drive off the Sierra's attacks.
Mack nervously hesitated. He tried to get a good timing for the ship ahead as it sank. He wanted to move at just the right moment…right when the lip hit the water. He still had one missile left. He wasn't sure how much good this would do…but hopefully it would let Cid do the rest. He just had to wait a few more seconds…until the roof of the sinking transport was just right…
An engine suddenly roared behind the lieutenant. Feeling a chill ripple down his spine, Mack snapped around and looked to see what it was. He immediately gulped and let out an obscenity. That black boat from earlier had come back around…but apparently it didn't care about Ragnar now. It was aiming its attention on him. And now, he was turned with his back to it, and it was going up to full throttle, closing in on him fast. On seeing that…Mack realized he couldn't wait for timing. He'd just have to pray. He quickly turned around and pushed his own jet ski back up to full speed, and took off for the sinking ship.
The black boat already had the advantage of speed without acceleration. Soon, it was back on Mack. Gritting his teeth, the man began to move his Bismark to the left and right, as the boat began to open fire again. He tried not to do too much. He needed more speed. He had to be going pretty fast for this to work. The ship continued to sink in front of him. It didn't quite bring the lip to the water yet, but hopefully it would by the time he got there. He looked up ahead again. In front of it, there was a space between the destroyer and the transport, due to it being stopped before it could close. Again, he prayed it was enough, as he continued to maneuver his craft around, trying to stay out of range.
A few rounds snaked by Mack's craft, taking off one of the exhausted bazookas. The man paled, and struggled to maneuver faster. However, it didn't work. The boat was getting a bead on him now. Another spurt of gunfire went out. Mack felt his head jarred painfully in one direction as one of the shots grazed his helmet, cutting a gash into it. Cold air soon began to blast him in one eye as he went on. He realized this wasn't going to work. He had to do one more move, and hoped it worked.
Abruptly, Mack cut off his throttle. His Bismark began to slow down immediately after. The black boat, still going full speed, soon began to gain on him. However, it too began to slow speed, thinking that Mack was going to drop behind it. Again, the guns fired…and this time Mack felt a couple hit the tube that kept him afloat. After that, there was no time left to dodge. He quickly gunned his machine back up to full throttle again. Luckily, the inertia helped it to accelerate quickly, and he shot away from the gunfire of the enemy just as it tore away the water where he was. It was a trick that had only bought him a few more seconds of life…but seconds was all he needed.
The man now lowered his head to his handlebars. He tried to picture an invisible crosshairs in front of him, plotting the position and angle of his one remaining missile. The enemy boat began to accelerate again behind him, and soonstarted catching up. But it was too late. His momentary delay had been all the time he needed to let the ship sink and form its ramp with its roof. Now…he just had to pray that there was enough angle. He quickly plotted roughly where the missile would go…and hoped he wasn't wrong. Uttering a silent prayer to himself…Mack cut the engine just before he drove Bismark 2 onto the roof of the transport. Using it as an angle, he immediately tore up out of the water and sailed toward the end. A moment later…his craft sailed off of the edge and into the sky.
Mack thought quickly. For a moment, Bismark 2 was dancing in the air, dangling over the battlefield and ocean. The black boat soon hit the ramp and went after him. However…it was still going at full speed. Mack had cut his just before hitting it…causing his own craft to fall shorter…and begin to drop almost immediately. But that wasn't before he saw straight ahead of him. He watched as he saw the antenna and radar systems of the destroyer move in front of him…and the command tower raised up right beneath him. Right as he saw himself there, unobstructed with a clear shot for the briefest second, he flicked the switch.
Bismark 2 began to fall back into the ocean soon after, soon passing out of range, as the last missile in its payload streaked out from the bazooka and sailed toward its intended target. Mack crouched against his craft…and rightly so. A moment later, the black boat shot by at full speed overhead, having hit the ramp at full speed and gotten the maximum angle and velocity. And ahead of all this…the missile continued to streak forward for a few fateful moments…before it impacted the front of the command tower to the destroyer. An explosion immediately decimated the front face of it, blasting through the metal and through a few unfortunate personnel.
The pilot of the black boat gaped in shock at this…before she realized that she was about to meet a similar fate. Bismark 2 had fallen short, and was landing in the water. But her own airborne vehicle was headed right for the side of the destroyer at a speed fast enough to smash it to bits. Cursing…she pulled a lever next to her seat. Immediately, the ceiling of the boat popped off and was flung behind her. Right as she collided into the side of the destroyer…right as it began to explode and have its own interior collision…she and her seat were ejected out of the craft and into the air. The violence of the throw, coupled with the ejection and the blast's impact, jarred her so violently that she immediately lost consciousness. Nevertheless, her seat fell away once she was at a certain height, and a chute deployed. It broke her fall soon after, and began to bear her unconscious body slowly back into the ocean…or, in her case, on top of one of the transports surrounding the destroyer opposite the one Bismark 2 hit.
Mack himself landed in the water, and Bismark 2 pitched forward violently. He nearly spilled this time, flinging over to the opposite side and going into the drink. However, Mack had planned for this, and has quickly leaned into the back of his boat to level out. It was just enough to keep it from moving. He still bobbed up and down like a fish alert…but he managed to keep himself from falling out, and stayed stable. Once he cleared his head, he looked up to the destroyer in front of him. He smiled as he let out a nervous exhale. He couldn't believe it. It worked. Not only had his missile struck the command tower…but the black boat had blown itself to bits against the side of the destroyer. And he had landed safely in the space between the transport and the destroyer. He couldn't believe he was still alive after that stunt…
However, if this was successful…then he knew what was coming next. And he was now out of missiles. With that in mind, he began to turn away his craft quickly. The back was starting to sag anyway. It was time to get back to shore…
Cid, managing somehow to stand in the bridge of the Sierra, despite how wildly it was pitching and turning, grinned from around his cigarette butt. The other crewmembers, despite their frantic efforts to keep the Sierra stabilized and firing, looked down and saw the same thing he did. One of the destroyers had suddenly broken off fire, and he saw why. A missile had somehow impacted the bridge. Mack's insane act of daredevilry had managed to get a hit in on it, despite how Cid had warned it was impossible. It wasn't nearly enough to destroy the bridge, of course…but it had done something none the less. The anti-aircraft fire was suddenly interrupted. The control systems must have been impacted…or the crews were stunned by the fire. The ship seemed to go dead for a moment.
That was their chance.
Cid quickly wheeled around to the helmsman. "Get down there right now, and give that destroyer a full salvo!"
The captain watched helplessly from her position in command. Not only had Admiral Ashiah's boat been destroyed, but now they were helplessly watching the scene to their left. Their own anti-aircraft guns pounded the air, struggling to stop the enemy ship from launching on its own run. But it was useless. Without the power of the middle gun, the ships were too spread out to provide good enough assistance. It dove on it like a vulture on its prey. It took a few hits, but it wasn't enough to stop it from opening its bays, and dropping a steady stream of about ten rocket-propelled bombs onto the deck of the Adamant.
More fiery explosions soon rocked its deck, joining with the damage already done. Two of the deck guns were blown up, as were three of the four anti-aircraft guns. But most of the damage was focused on the bridge. Two bombs took off the entire top level. Two more blasted its middle, warping it so much that its guts were revealed. Another two bombs finished it, being dropped into the exposed interior and obliterating it. As the ship swung away, the burned, scorched ruin of the command tower remained. Only now…it was barely standing. After a second's pause, the entire structure collapsed on its weaker bottom and spilled forward, and fell down on top of its own deck. The rest of the fires continued to burn.
Despite the pounding it was now receiving, the enemy aircraft was able to spin around and drop a second salvo on its already helpless victim. As it pulled away, a shot struck it in its engine, and it began to spark and smolder in its wake. However, it still had three more operational ones. The shot made it wounded and seemed to force it to retreat, but it was able to pull itself away from the hits it had taken. But the Adamant wasn't so lucky. This second line of fire was dropped into the already smoldering holes that the first one had blasted into it. One of the bombs managed to ignite the spare artillery rounds…and an even larger explosion soon blasted a chunk out of the front deck, causing the metal to twist and expand outward. That damage must have triggered something else, because soon fires were beginning to leap out from other parts of the ship, lighting up each crack and open hole. Metal panels began to blow off of the sides next as the chain reaction continued. Then, at long last…the entire destroyer blew, erupting into a monstrous fiery ball that lit up the entire fleet and miles in the surrounding area.
The captain and the rest of the crew were shocked. They weren't supposed to lose a single destroyer on this attack, but now one was blowing up. What was worse was that it was guarding transports, which had squeezed in so close at this point that there was barely any room between them and their guardian. Now, as the great warship erupted, it blasted its surrounding craft with fire and large pieces of shrapnel. Misfired shells snaked out and imbedded themselves in the sides of the craft, and soon they began to set off explosions off their own as the other transports blew around them. Even those that weren't took damage, and soon began to blare distress signals of their own. The price of driving off the enemy airship and the minor attackers had been losing the Adamant and eight more transports.
The officer felt herself start to sweat. This was not good. The enemy looked like they were pulling off, but at this point they had damaged or destroyed some 77 of their transports. The remaining 23 had an army on it that totaled to only half of the size of their opponent's, based on reports. Now, landing the damaged transports was impossible. They would have to break through the enemy's defenses first. And with the loss of one of their destroyers, they had enough to make that a painful victory. What more, on landing, they would only be able to do some damage to the enemy before being driven off. The Planet Protector Army once again had the terrain advantage…and in the past, they had proven to be very good at making the New Shinra Army suffer with that in their favor.
At last, she came to the conclusion. She knew that this would be bad. The Admiral would never approve of it. But there were transports sinking out there. If they didn't turn around, they'd lose even more troops in their attempts to make landfall. This was the best way to cut their losses. Besides…with the Admiral currently out of commission, she was the commanding officer in charge of this fleet. With that in mind…she announced her decision.
"…Give the order to return to port. We're breaking off the attack."
Ragnar was still trying to catch his breath as his jet ski raced back home. He was out of range now of the enemy, and it felt great to finally be clear after that death run. By now, the last of their forces had broken off. They could do no more after their assault. Out of the original twenty-four Bismarks…sadly only fourteen had survived. However, it was their first try…and they knew the danger. They only hoped that it had done enough damage in the end. Mack's crazy stunt seemed to make up for quite a bit of missed shots and done more damage than any of them had expected…
Suddenly, a voice came in on the radio, cheering and excited, and disregarding his own rules.
"Ha-ha! We did it! They're turning back! This crazy act worked!"
Ragnar leaned up at that, his eyes widening in surprise. Soon, he began to hear people ringing in on their own radios and cheering as well. Cid himself called back in several times to yell in triumph. He even held the radio out to his crew members to let them cry out too. The youth couldn't believe it. Their ramshackle plan had worked. They had driven off the enemy…and they hadn't even needed to involve the ground forces. That was more than he had ever expected. But in the end…it was a victory. The Planet Protector Army, six months after its huge loss, had demonstrated that they were still a force to be reckoned with. Not just on land…but on the sea as well.
"Alright! Bismark 2 to Bismark Leader, we won! We drove them off!"
"You psychotic little son of a bitch! I haven't tried anything that stupid since I was sixteen! I'm going to beat the shit out of you for being so damn reckless when we get back! After that…" A pause, and then a chuckle. "First two rounds are on me."
Ragnar cracked a smile himself at that, and a bit of a snicker.
"Not too bad for your first time, Bismark Leader." Mack's voice further threw in.
Ragnar let out a small half-hearted chuckle at that. He shook his head afterward a bit, and then spoke in a much more controlled voice. "Old Bismark Leader to New Bismark Leader…I'm retiring. Consider yourself promoted to the head of the Bismarks, Mack."
A pause went through the radios as everyone went silent. That was quite unexpected. However, no one had been unexpecting it more than Mack himself. His uneasy voice replied after a few seconds. "…Um, sir…are…you sure you want to do that? I mean, you're the general and all…"
"My place is on the land, not the sea." Ragnar calmly replied. After all, he wasn't vain enough…or dumb enough…to try replicating what happened tonight again. He was glad for the victory, but he also saw who had been the true expert on the jet ski out there, and who had been the hero in this battle. He knew he needed skilled people which he couldn't match in knowledge or experience, who could fill the gaps he could not. And Mack was the best suited right now. "I feel very confident about giving you the position, commander." He paused for a moment after that, and smiled. "That's a field promotion for now. Tomorrow, I'll issue the official decoration. I think you'll also be the recipient of the first Nautilus Medal for Valor."
Silence reigned on the other end of the communicator. There was a long pause from the man's end. But at last, he heard a meek voice manage to spit back out. "…Thank you, sir…"
"Don't thank me. You earned it yourself. Ex-Bismark Leader out."
Ragnar leaned back in his seat after that, and let out another breath of relief. Well…they were back at it again. Hopefully, this would drive the New Shinra to fight them more, and consider them a threat to eliminate first. Of course, this meant a lot more had to be done. Now, they really had to build their own navy. These Bismarks had to be upgraded and equipped better. People had to start training on them. The shore defenses had to be expanded. If they could get mines, they needed to start placing them. In addition, their army had to keep upgrading. They needed more weapons, more recruits…more of everything. They had to expand even faster now. Midgar and Kalm could only give so much more after this.
Perhaps…it was finally time to look over those defense contracts again.
That could wait for now. They were in the clear tonight. Tomorrow would be a new day. Right now, Ragnar wanted to get back and wash the smell of the sea off of him and get ready for bed. However…that would be after he found out just where the heck the Colonel had run off to.
To be continued...