Ring-ring-ring… Ring-ring-ring…
Ragnar groaned and swallowed. His mouth was dry. It had to have been hung open all night. He pushed up a bit from where he was, and looked down at it. A bit to his surprise, he found himself lying on the couch in his office. He was mostly undressed and covered with a blanket. He winced a bit in the early morning light, coming through the blinds in his window. He didn't remember going to bed last night… How had he gotten here?
That was right… Aerith had come in. She had forced him to undress and tried to put him down. He remembered refusing. She was treating him like a kid…which had struck a nerve in him. He didn't care what Aerith said…he didn't want to be treated like a child. That made him more opposed to the idea of following her advice, and he had wanted to get up. Then…she held a hand in front of his face…
Ragnar groaned again and frowned. She had to have used her power on him. Sleep was one of the most basic of the nature affecting spells. She had to have put him into an enchanted sleep, forcing him to go down. He barely remembered it…just a feeling of being very pleasant and light, and sinking into the feeling immediately. His own defenses had been helpless against it, tired as he was…
However, the general soon forgot about that. His mind became aware of what had awakened him. It was the sound of his personal cell. Immediately, he threw his blanket off and stumbled out of "bed". He didn't notice the fact that his wits were far sharper now, and that his headache had subsided greatly. He merely stumbled over to his desk, taking note with some irritation at how Aerith had disrupted his information, and went to his cellular. He quickly snatched it up, noticing quickly that he already had three missed calls, before opening it and putting it to his head.
"General Ragnar here."
"Where the hell have you been?" An angry voice of a certain Captain Cid came from the other end. "I've been trying to get ahold of you all morning!"
The man frowned in response. "…Something caught me off guard. What's up?"
"What's up? The damn New Shinra Navy is on the move, that's what's up! And they ain't screwin' around this time! Our buoy radar shows there's at least thirty destroyers coming in, as well as a ship the size of the old Shinra HQ Building!"
Ragnar's eyes widened at this revelation, as a fear sank into his heart. It was happening again…and this time, it was far worse. They weren't doing anything piecemeal this time. This time…they were coming to smash them.
"…Assemble the head officers. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
Ragnar slammed the phone shut and discarded it to the desk. He looked around a moment, and then focused on his closet. He quickly ran over to that and opened it up. Inside, he saw a few fresh uniforms hanging there waiting for him. He grabbed one, pulled it out, and threw it on the couch. He quickly went for some socks, grabbed them, and then ran back over to the couch. Once there, he quickly began to put them on.
He was so focused that he barely noticed it when the door to his room opened. He was surging on adrenaline now, and so he didn't jump for once. However, he cast a side glance to it for a moment. He saw a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast come in, followed shortly thereafter by a smiling, pleasant woman.
"Time to wake up, general." She called out in a cheerful voice. However, on entering and turning to the couch, she soon saw that she was a bit late. Ragnar was up and getting ready. Her smile faded, and she formed some surprise. "Oh…you're already up."
Normally, Ragnar was in a good mood whenever he saw Aerith. However...now was not a normal time. He had been asleep through an invasion call, and it was because she had put him to sleep. He had sat through something important when he was supposed to be the head of the army, and people might suffer for it. That quickly changed his mood from normal to rather irritable...
Ragnar bristled with anger on seeing her. "No thanks to you." He answered sharply, nearly snapping. "Why did you do that?"
Aerith reacted a bit, taken a bit aback by his sudden anger. "What…?"
"We're being invaded." Ragnar continued. "By the whole New Shinra Navy. They knew about this for hours…but they couldn't get ahold of me because I was asleep. Because you put me to sleep. Now I've lost out on God knows how much time to get ready. I may not have everything ready in time before they get here. People may die because of that."
His socks were on now, and he moved to his pants next. Aerith, on her part, was frozen. She quickly began to look uneasy and nervous, hearing what had happened. She drew back a bit, and swallowed uncomfortably. "…I'm sorry…"
"You had no right to do that!" Ragnar snapped at her as his pants went on. "I told you I didn't need to sleep! Why didn't you listen to me?"
"I…thought you were just being difficult…"
"Difficult?" Ragnar answered harshly as he went for his tunic. "Difficult? What am I, some toddler? You violated me! You can't just go up to a person you think needs a rest and cast a spell on them! Who the hell do you think you are?"
The last comment was especially biting, and it made Aerith recoil uneasily. She began to withdraw in on herself. "I…I was only trying to help…"
"You're not a military officer and you're not a soldier in this army!" Ragnar snapped back as he went for his boots and began to put them on. "You're not in any position to give me any help! Why don't you just go back to the Seventh Heaven and stay out of trouble?" He scowled and sighed as he began to tie his boots. "Damnit…you always do this! You did it back when you were with Cloud! You always try to take things into your own hands, thinking you know better than anyone else, and you end up paying for it! If you had just listened to me and let me alone, this wouldn't have happened! I told you I knew when I had to sleep! I would have known what was a good time to-"
Ragnar cut himself off.
Aerith had her head bowed now, trying to hide her face.
She was crying.
The man stared at her a moment. As he did…he clenched his jaw. He turned his head away and swore under his breath. He shouldn't have been so angry…but he was upset. He was very upset. And he was still angry. There was a huge navy headed their way, and he had to try and figure out a way to stop it. He had a lot to do…and he could have gotten started earlier if not for her. It was her fault. If she felt like crying, then she should. It was because of her actions that he was mad, after all... And she should feel bad for what she had done to him. Even now, he didn't have time to waste on her but to get going. Maybe snapping at her would keep her from doing this again.
However, despite all of those thoughts…he didn't feel happy about this.
Way to make her feel two inches tall, Ragnar...
In the end, he sighed and stood up. He didn't have time for this. He had to get going. He reached over and picked up his cape, and then spun it around and began to fasten it to his neck. He looked back to Aerith. She was still holding the plate, but she had stepped back and cringed now. Her head was still bowed, not looking up to the man as he turned to her. The youth slowly inhaled and exhaled, letting out a sigh.
He walked forward, and began to make for the door. However, he stopped next to her for a moment. He turned his head to her, but she didn't look up.
"Look…" He began with a tired sigh, his anger finally simmering down. "Just…just go home, and stay out of trouble."
Aerith didn't react or look up. Ragnar frowned and groaned again, but he couldn't spend anymore time here. In the end, he forced himself to turn away from her, and walked back to the doorway. Soon, he passed through it, and was picking up speed to get him to their meeting hall.
The Cetra was left alone in the room.
In the end, with some disgust, she simply dropped the plate on the floor and let it smash.
RULER
Ragnar was still unhappy with himself and what he had done when he arrived in the meeting hall. He was beginning to get angry at how he had spoken. She was just trying to help…like she said. There was no reason for him to get that snitty with her…or for him to have said that one bit to her… Whatever he said had to be too much. He had made her cry. However, he couldn't afford to worry about it now. He had to get back to business.
As Ragnar entered, he saw that the hall was already rather full. The officers, and there were many more after two months, mostly filled up the aisles. The higher officers were gathered at the front. Cloud was already there, and turned to him when he entered, giving him a nod. Colonel Nanaki was already up front, next to an overhead. It was much the same map that had been shown two months ago, only with, to Ragnar's dismay, far more dots representing enemy ships. On entering, many of the newer officers rose and gave him a salute, and the chatter of the room cut down. It didn't take long for everyone to turn to him.
"At ease." He responded as he made his way to his own chair at front.
"I took the liberty of putting the army on the highest state of alert, General." Cloud announced as he came forward. "Everyone is mobilizing."
Ragnar hesitated on hearing that...before he managed to somewhat stiffly give a nod. That only expressed the merely hint of his sentiment, though. In truth, he was very surprised...and very thankful for it. That was what he would have done long before now if he had been up. Luckily, Cloud shared his status, and seemed to have gotten the hint and taken the liberty. Ragnar soon reached his chair and sat down. He turned to the front, and the saluting soldiers sat and turned back that way as well. The room stayed silent and focused on Red XIII.
The beast gave a nod, and indicated to the screen. "As you all probably are aware of by now, the New Shinra are mobilizing. They have launched a massive invasion force that is bound for Midgar's shore. They are coming to the thinnest point between the shore and the city, which is only about ten miles. They also are bringing three times as many transports as before at least, indicating that they have three armies with them. This all points to the likelihood that they are planning to invade on landing, and push all the way into the city itself and take it."
A wave of unease traveled through the room. Ragnar was especially nervous on hearing that. Until now, most of their defenses had been set up to keep them from reaching shore. Once they did, there was little they could do besides fight it out in a bloodbath. The maximum strength of their army was currently a little over 10,000. With three times as many transports, they were outnumbered three to one. Now, they had managed to win with far worse odds before, but that was when the terrain was on their side. Once they landed and overcame the barricades, there was nothing between them and Midgar but open plains. In Midgar, they might be able to stand out on a guerilla defense, but only at the expense of hundreds of civilians, and who knew how much damage.
"As chief tactician," Red XIII continued. "My advisement is to proceed with the same course of action as last time, which is to disable their transports. Without them, they cannot proceed with an invasion even if we lose the bay."
"They're bound to be ready for it this time." Ragnar answered. "They'll deploy in a way to keep our Bismarks fodder for their cannons."
"But that might work out." Ragnar heard from behind him. He and the others gathered turned and looked, and saw Ragnar's newest high officer. Commander Mack was looking hopeful as he explained his rationality. "The only way they can be in a position to hit us is if they spread out. That'll make it harder for the Bismarks to do any damage, but it will also make it harder for them to break through any of our shore defenses."
"That's assuming they haven't built something to counter the Bismarks…" Cid threw in with a dark look from his position. "Like a whole division of those little black boats from last time… Even if our improved Bismarks can take 'em, they'll be keepin' 'em from doing their job, which is to destroy as many transports as possible."
"We may not have a choice in the matter." Ragnar darkly answered. He crossed his arms and sighed for a moment, thinking this over. The other officers looked to him and waited for signs of something. In the end, he exhaled again, and lifted his head for a new announcement.
"...I'm going to have to go in a different direction from the Colonel's strategy. I want all the Bismarks and shore defenses to concentrate their firepower on the destroyers."
The officers stiffened a bit at that, and a wave of surprise and fear suddenly traveled through the room.
"General…" Cid spoke up. "We ain't got enough firepower to contest their navy."
"It's our only shot." Ragnar answered. "If we mobilize all of the infantry, we still have one advantage. Any enemy transport that comes to shore is going to be forced to do it one at a time. We can take out any troops that land. But if their navy gets within bombardment range, then the army will be toast."
"You're actually wanting to fight them on even terms?" A small voice piped out from the ranks, one that Ragnar recognized as belonging to Yuffie. "Are you insa-"
"I never said it was going to be easy." Ragnar answered. "But it won't be what they're expecting. If they really are distanced apart, then it might be possible to pull it off. It's still going to take every single unit we have available. Every division needs to be on alert and at the shore. Any of the infantry corp that can supplement the shore defenses with RPGs or rocket launchers needs to do so." A pause, and then something else. "…And we need to bring in the new division too."
A few people raised their eyebrows at that, and grew reluctant.
Cloud leaned in to Ragnar's side. "You sure, kid? They've only been training a week…"
"Unfortunately, we don't have anymore time, Cloud." Ragnar ruefully answered. "We have to hit these guys back with everything we have."
RULER
Again, the army went on alert.
With their general back at the helm, the entire PPA was mobilized. All of the civilian guard corps and MPs were brought out onto the field. The humanitarian and supply corps was brought out too in order to supplement the actions of the field hospitals. While they waited, they began to use what talents they had to make homemade shells for the artillery. The field hospitals and construction bases were erected only a mile from the shore, and the trucks were immediately ordered to be on standby for wounded when they were done transporting their cargo. Every bit of ammunition, rockets, and explosives that the PPA had was brought to the front of the shore and set in special depos for the troops. Trenches were deepened and expanded, and lined with razor wire.
The full army was brought to the shore. They filled the trenches to capacity. Those left behind worked on enlarging them and filling in the rest. They wouldn't be able to fill it in completely before the enemy arrived, but they tried their best. Each pill box was manned and loaded down with twice as much ammunition as normal. The full infantry shore defense corp was utilized, as Ragnar had ordered. Each one was given a launcher and ten rockets apiece. The artillery units and batteries were given all the ammo they had, and the supply corp sent out more periodically.
The infantry and mobile artillery began to take position behind the main line, digging up more earth walls and barricades that they could shoot from behind. Sandbags were thrown down to create areas for the machine guns to be placed. Some extra members of infantry ran forward and put down more barbed wire and razor wire. One truck was running around Midgar, collecting shaved metal and broken glass. That was taken to the front and dumped on the shore barricades as well. Finally, oil was thrown over on top of it, so that in a moment of emergency it could be lit up.
The citizens of Midgar were ordered to move to any underground areas they could manage, taking only food and other necessities. The order was not able to be inforced by the PPA, for the humanitarian corps was already at the front line. Midgar police helped somewhat, but unfortunately many of the citizens thought this was another false alarm like before. They refused to move.
Last but not least, all Bismark pilots began to prepare. There were sixty of them now, enough for twenty squadrons. The Sierra began to fuel up, getting ready to move. But unfortunately, there was no way that the Horizon would be able to make it in time. Even if it did, Cid didn't have the weapons for it. For now, this was all they could have in terms of a "navy". It would unfortunately have to do…
As Midgar went into a tizzy of activity, only becoming more active as night began to fall, everyone was busy preparing and doing whatever they could. Even Vincent finally broke off his searching and made his way to shore, preparing to help out in the effort. Because of that…neither he, nor anyone else, was aware of the activity that was going on right beneath their feet…
RULER
"Invasion, you say?" Hoeng asked as he finished rolling down his sleeve, having finished his latest injection.
"Yes, master…" A creature clothed in rags seemed to slobber in front of him. It was like its mouth was clogged with matter. However, this particular one was so ashamed of its appearance that it never showed itself, not even here in the safety of their lair. He alone was before Hoeng now, having been the one who had been elected, through drawing straws, to come before him when he was in the middle of his work. Hoeng disliked that…and punished it rather severely. "All of the New Shinra's Navy is coming to attack… The entire host of the PPA is being summoned forth…"
Hoeng raised his eyebrow in interest. "…The entire host?"
"Yes, master…even those in the civilian sectors…"
The scientist kept the eyebrow raised.
"…This must be providence." He answered. "So close to being too late, and yet now having this wonderful opportunity put in our lap. Our time to strike has come now."
The hood of the creature raised. For a moment, some sort of fleshy strings seemed to come out into the light, but then withdrew.
"Shall I summon the others master…?"
"That won't be necessary, Gelon." Hoeng answered. As he said this, he put his hands down, and rested them on the arms of his chair. A moment later, he pushed up and rose to his feet. Gelon was surprised at this. He had never stood up from that spot, as long as he had seen him…
"…I'll do it myself. This time, to ensure success…I'll be joining them."
RULER
Sigh…is this what eventually happens to Generals?
Ragnar thought that to himself as he sat in what, he considered, to be a rather safe place. It was the PPA's new "command center". It wasn't as sophisticated as would be in a real military, but it had the right equipment. Essentially it was a communications room. There were a few displays that helped keep track of who was functioning and who was where, but the software all had to be updated by human input. It wasn't of that much use to him.
Essentially, the center was a small booth about three miles from shore. It was made on a small tower that was about three stories high. The two stories below were only stairs. The booth itself wasn't much bigger than a basic meeting room. The front of it was plexiglass, allowing Ragnar and those within to get a good look of the shore from where they were with bullet-proof protection. There was a console with numerous communications machines and the few displays in front of him, which five separate officers were working at the moment. Ragnar himself was in a chair behind them. Behind this, there were a few other consoles for people to work at. It was low tech compared to the New Shinra, but it was still very advanced considering where they had been less than a year ago.
Frankly, Ragnar didn't like it. He thought his place should be out there, fighting alongside everyone else. But at least for the first part of the battle, he had to be here. This was the only place where he could monitor their sea forces and direct them. And it was the only place where he could get ahold of all units in their army. The simple walkie-talkie wouldn't cut it anymore. They needed the satellite capabilities of this command center. And so…here he was, stuck.
And being here reminded Ragnar of something else. It reminded him how tired he was after personally running around last night. It also reminded him of his closing headache. He hadn't a single bit of time to go and contact Aerith, or to stop by the Seventh Heaven. And that made him upset…because now, he began to realize that he would be burned out completely by now if Aerith hadn't put him to sleep. That made him feel like the world's biggest jackass. First, he hadn't missed much because Cloud had given the prep orders without him…and secondly, he was actually indebted to her for being put to sleep. She was right…he was sick. And he had underestimated what the army was capable of in his absence, and what Cloud could do as intuitively as him. And he began to realize just how harsh and brutal he was with Aerith, how accusing he had been...when the whole time the strain of today would have been too much for him if he hadn't taken a break. That eight hour rest was the only thing that weakened his fever enough for him to focus today. He would have been bedridden unwillingly by now if not for her...and all he could do was say she had no place in the army...that she was essentially just a meddling civilian...
Damnit…I'm such an idiot. She knew best in the end…and I just spat in her face for it. I feel like a king-sized jerk. I need to-
Pull back.
Ragnar froze. His eyes widened.
He had heard it again. It was the first time since Aerith had come back…but he heard it. The voice from before.
The general looked around himself for a moment. Sure enough, no one else had reacted. He heard it alone…and he heard it within his mind. It had spoken directly to his consciousness. There was no mistaking it. And just as before…it had been a soft female voice.
That bewildered the man. Until now…he had entertained the notion that Aerith herself was talking to him. But she was alive now, so it couldn't be her. And similar as the voice sounded, it was not the same. It was someone else. But it had still spoken to him. And this time…it had told him something unexpected.
Pull back.
Pull back? As in…fall back? Move away? Abandon the fight?
Ragnar didn't understand. He couldn't do that. If he did, there'd be nothing between the shore and Midgar. They'd lose land and probably never get it back. New Shinra would have a foothold in this continent and would be able to spread everywhere. Until now, he had usually followed the directions of that voice when it came. But he couldn't see himself following it now. If he did, they'd be forced to give up too much. They had to stand and fight. He couldn't see what would possibly be gained from retreating now.
In the end, he shook his head and sighed to the voice.
I'm sorry, whoever you are. But this time, I have to stand my ground.
Ragnar wasn't sure about this…but he almost thought he sensed a feeling in response to this.
A feeling of distress.
A second later, however, that thought was cut off. A voice from one of the consoles got his attention.
"General…the enemy is in long-range sensor range."
Ragnar snapped out of it at this, and turned to the woman at the console. Once he did, and processed what he heard, he looked up and out the window. He couldn't see much from here, other than the massive host of his army and the shore defenses beyond. But far out beyond that, he could see the seemingly endless ocean. And beyond that, where the sun was rising on this new day…he could see a faint black outline.
The youth's jaw set tight, and he tensed himself up.
"Send out the order to the Bismarks. We are going to engage immediately."
RULER
"This is it, boys! This is what we've been practicing for!"
"This is the Sierra. Damnit, commander! Report in before you start talking!"
"Sorry… Squadron 1, standing by."
"Squadron 2, standing by."
"Squadron 3, standing by."
"Squadron 4…"
Mack took in a deep breath and exhaled. He tried to tell himself that it was just going to be like last time. He just had to maneuver a bit more, and he had the right kind of machine for that purpose. He was better trained. The other pilots were better trained. And on top of it all, this was in daylight. Just relax, and focus on the task…
Water splashed up around his jet ski as he raced forward. His squadron was in the lead, and racing toward their inevitable meeting with the New Shinra. The first few minutes weren't that bad. After all, they were only engaging them on the outermost limits of their defense perimeter. It would take some time before they were even in range. During that time period, Mack tightened his grip and moistened his lips. He kept his eyes on the horizon as the sixty continued to come forward.
Finally, he began to see dark shapes rising. They were mistakable at first, perhaps optical illusions. But as they continued to race forward, they began to get more definition. The taller ones stuck out first. There were quite a few of them… Mack almost thought that he was looking at the transports. But then, he started to see smaller ones pick up. That made him rather nervous. Five destroyers had been a big enough pain last time. Now there were more…and they had to engage them. Sixty fighters against thirty destroyers…at least. It was a bit overwhelming… But he had been in situations with bad odds before. He would deal with it…
Then…he saw their new ship.
"…Would you look at the size of that…" He heard his stunned wingman exclaim.
Mack had to admit that he thought much of the same lines. At first, he thought he was seeing some sort of exposed island or wave off of the coast, or perhaps a bunch of the ships were massed together. But as they drew nearer, he realized that such wasn't the case. A massive ship was in the lead. It towered over the other destroyers like a giant among insects. The size was staggering… It looked almost like a floating town in its own right. Mack wasn't aware that so much metal existed, and that something so huge could even float. But nevertheless, there it was… A colossus among the navy, huge and formidable.
The lead pilot swallowed. This was going to be harder than he thought. He wasn't even sure that their Bismarks had enough missiles to sink that thing…and from the size of it, the ship could take on the entire defensive perimeter. But there was little they could do about it now… He moved to his console and pressed the all hailing button.
"All Bismarks…prepare to launch flanking maneuver B. Switch radar sweeps on."
Mack immediately turned his own on after that. A moment later, and he saw something out of the window on his right. Squadron 2 was pulling up next to him, ready to lead half of them off once they reached the critical point. Mack kept an eye on the ships in front of him, but also looked down to his radar. He grimaced again at how the massive one took up so much of the enemy fleet. However…he also noticed something. To best counter them with the destroyers, they should have been more split up. That would reduce the chance for friendly fire. But they were as bunched together as they had been last time…
Mack shook his head and tried to ignore it. He focused his attention on the battle instead, and gave the order. "Engage maneuver…now."
Abruptly, Mack gave a sharp turn to the left. His wingmen followed suit, and right behind them half of the Bismarks did the same. As for Squadron 2, they broke off to the right, and the other half followed. Soon, they were splitting up. They were still out of range to be accurate with the deck guns, and they were well out of range of heavy machine gun fire. Their own short range sensors shouldn't have even picked them up yet, based on the distance. With that in mind, Mack took his half of the fighters and swung them out as far as they could go, moving them far to the side of the fleet, which the other half did the same in a mirror image. Soon, they were splitting up to surround the enemy.
Mack kept an eye on his radar. He waited to see if bogies would come out, like the black ship from last time. However, none came. This puzzled him slightly… The enemy had to see that they were breaking up to flank them. If they wanted to engage, now was the time. This unsettled the pilot, but he kept going. He waited until both divisions of the wing reached a point where they were perpendicular to the fleet. Once there, he sharply turned his controls back. The rest of his unit followed suit, and soon they were coming in from the sides on the enemy.
Mack opted for this instead of coming in from the back, like last time. This made it far harder for the transports to hit with their frontal guns, and the enemy would have a greater chance of hitting its own units on this way. Also, they wouldn't be expecting it first. Mack was soon pushing himself up to full throttle as he raced to the nearest destroyer.
"This is the Sierra. Watch yourselves, Bismarks." Cid's voice suddenly sounded through the radio. "We're not in range of anti-aircraft guns yet, but we sense that the big one is warming up something."
Mack turned his head at that, looking puzzled. "Just the big one? What about the other destroyers?"
"That's what doesn't make sense, Bismark Leader. The other destroyers are just sitting there. Only the big one is…wait, I've got something on radar."
Mack turned back down to his own radar. Sure enough, he could see something on the big one. Some sort of small objects were coming from it. They started in clumps, but they were spreading out quickly from where they had originated.
"I have visual."
Mack looked up at that, hearing the voice of one of his own pilots in the radio. When he did, he could see it. Some sort of black dots had been scattered into the air, deep within the fleet. He assumed, and assumed correctly, that they were coming from the big one. They were all moving out in midair, getting farther away from each other. Mack couldn't make them out.
The commander frowned. "This is Bismark Leader. It might just be some sort of radar or jammer… But stay on guard. I'm locking missiles."
To emphasize that, Mack moved down and began to establish a target on the first destroyer. He was almost into firing range now. However, he saw that the deck guns on it, as well as every other destroyer, had not yet moved. This made him a bit more anxious. He couldn't help but look up again to the visual of the black specks. He swallowed when he did.
"Hang on a second…" Cid's voice continued. Then, abruptly…it sounded panicked. "Sh't! Whatever the hell those things are, they're headed right for you, Bismarks!"
Mack snapped at that. He looked back down to the radar…and sure enough, they cloud of matter had already split into two groups. And they were now moving straight for them. They weren't moving apart anymore. The commander looked back up…and saw that the black spots already looked much larger…and closer. They were coming in at them, and they were coming fast.
Damn…
"All squadrons…break off attack. Evasive maneuvers."
With that, Mack cursed and began to swing his Bismark around. Another few moments, and he would have been in range. However, he soon noticed something worse. He had no sooner begun to break off, when he noticed that the black specks picked up speed. They were accelerating already. On the radar, they began to close in twice as fast. The commander saw this and gaped. He looked up, and back out the window. When he did, he began to make the things out at last. They were some sort of black devices with three helicopter blades…and large claws…
Mack's identification suddenly broke off…when he saw something happen. Showers of yellow dots, unheard over the waves and engine, suddenly poured out from the front of them…and came down on their Bismarks.
A second later, and Mack's boat was rocked violently. He heard the cause ringing in his ear as a massive fiery eruption went off right next to him. It was soon joined by others as he saw the yellow storm be showered down on them. Other eruptions went off behind him, rocking his Bismark and filling his ears with more blasts. The black swarm came down on them, and continued to pepper them. As they did, more eruptions went off. They were being attacked…and they were being attacked hard.
As anxiety flooded Mack, and his heart began to race, he started to realize that those things were enemy ships of some sort...some kind of gyro. They were actually piloted, and they were attacking him. As that happened, the calls started coming in.
"Squadron 5! We've lost our leader!"
"Squadron 11! I'm the only one left!"
"Squadron 8! They're coming at us! I-"
"Squadrons 3 and 17 are totally wiped out!"
"This is the Sierra! You guys are taking a pounding! Get out of there!"
Mack darted his head around in panic. They were being ambushed. The enemy had planned a counter offensive…and it was a good one. It was in the form of these new machines. The voices continued to pour in, haggard and panicked. To Mack's fear…almost every squadron had taken at least one loss. They were down at least a third, and the battle hadn't even started yet.
Gritting his teeth in anger, Mack quickly went back to his controls. He found the enemy on the radar. They were sweeping past them now, but there were still a few stragglers. Quickly, he tried to shift his target lock onto one. But after only a moment…it was too late. The strange black craft went by and the lock was broken. They were moving too fast. Their targeting system was designed for slow, big targets…not small speedy ones.
Moments later…more eruptions began to go out. But these weren't explosions…they were the sounds of enemy fire. Mack looked back up…and saw a veritable hailstorm of firepower going out. But it wasn't coming from all of the destroyers. It was only coming from the big one…and it was all aimed skyward. He looked up again, and saw that it was aiming for the Sierra. The airship had tried to make an attack run…and the enemy was firing back. But that wasn't all. Now…the destroyers were beginning to move their guns. The heavy deck weapons were rotating to aim at the Bismarks.
On top of all that…Mack spotted something else on his radar.
These new black units had practically stopped in midair after they passed through on their initial attack run. And now…they were coming back from behind for another pass. And after their first beating…he realized a second pass might finish them off.
Mack's brow broke out into a sweat. His confidence was gone. The enemy had prepared for them too well. The attack was over before it had started. And caught out here in the open, they were fodder for whatever things those ships were. And now, the Sierra couldn't help them…assuming it was able to survive the onslaught of the enemy ship. His division was already almost finished, and there was already nowhere to escape…
Cursing…Mack realized there was only one option.
"All Bismarks…change of attack pattern. Head directly into the enemy fleet and move within and between the ships. Fire missiles at whatever you can get a target at. We have to do as much damage to them as we can while we still can."
With that, Mack turned his craft again and sailed back toward the enemy destroyer. He still had a target lock, and now he was within firing range. The enemy was turning to fire on him, but he was already passing under it. Frowning, he pressed the firing button and let his first missile shoot off to the hull. As he continued to race forward, he saw his first round embed itself against the side of the destroyer before he swept around and passed in between it and a transport, his one wingman following closely behind.
There was only one chance now. Those things were airborne and fast. They couldn't combat them. Their only hope was to go through the fleet. Hopefully, if they stayed as close to the enemy navy as possible, the new fliers wouldn't be able to hit them. At least…not easily. He could only hope they couldn't stop themselves that well, and that their friendly fire did more harm than good for their cause…
I just pray that the infantry will do better…
RULER
Damnit all to hell!
A console erupted not ten feet from Cid, engulfing the crew member with flame and debris. Crying out, the man fell to the ground, his body smoldering and burnt. One of the field doctors on the ship immediately began to run up to him…but he had to abandon another burned crewmember to do so.
"Damnit, ensign! Get us out of this hailstorm!"
"Trying, sir! But they're not even using all their guns against us! When I move out of one path of fire, they just start shooting with-"
"Don't apologize! Just do it! Get that salvo ready!"
The Sierra was shooting through the air with remarkable speed and maneuverability, showing its ability and finesse. It was a good thing…because the ship was taking a beating. Whatever this new ship was, it was a pain in the ass. Right now, they were flying a few hundred feet over the enemy fleet, struggling to lower enough to fire or target lock, while trying to stay clear of the endless pounding of rockets, cannons, and bullets that were shooting at them. Yet they weren't coming from the enemy fleet. They were all coming from the new ship they had.
Cid grasped the rail and struggled to hold on. He clenched his teeth and cursed at the monolith in the ocean. The other destroyers weren't even bothering firing. Only the new one was. But it was enough. They were already damaged and about to lose one engine, and they had only been fighting for two minutes. The crew was running around as best they could, but against such a staggering opponent some of the younger ones were starting to crack. The fact that just this one ship was doing this…and not even using all of its guns to do it… It was almost, to Cid, as if this new monster was laughing at them, toying with them.
That only pissed him off.
And finally, he had enough of it.
The captain turned to his ensign. He was at the wheel currently, and he was going a great job. He was pulling off maneuvering tricks he had never come up with before in practice. He was adapting to the pressure with flying colors. And he was keeping the ship steady and not taxing its limits, leaving something in reserve.
Nevertheless…Cid suddenly came forward and nearly shoved him out of the way as he took the wheel.
The move was painful, and made the ensign stagger back. But once he saw Cid take the controls, reposition his cigarette in his mouth, and glare at the enemy ship, he blinked in confusion. "Captain…what're you-"
"Fire the salvo on my mark!" Cid yelled as he pushed the throttle to maximum…and plunged the Sierra into a nosedive.
The crew screamed in shock, thinking they were going down, as they were nearly thrown all forward and through the viewing glass. It was only because they had enough experience with Cid's crazy training to reach out and seize the handlebars. The captain himself was steely and cool. Glaring with a murderous look, he kept the ship falling. It began to pick up speed, gravity starting to work on it. But Cid pushed it even harder and faster, wanting it to pick up even more than that. The crew was totally dazzled, struggling to get to their positions and keep the injured from flying everywhere. As for the enemy ship, however…it relentlessly continued to pound the Sierra. But for all of its effort…this was unexpected. It hadn't planned on this sudden change of speed and angle. It couldn't keep up with it. Slowly, the attacks broke off as Cid continued to fall, beginning to go out of range of some of the weapons.
Cid grit his teeth and held on. He let himself continue to fall…farther and farther. He did quick calculations…deduced his angle…speed…descent… The pilot began to cry out to him to pull up, but he didn't listen. He watched the ocean get closer…closer…closer…
Finally, a mere hundred feet from smashing the prow to bits against the surface of the water, Cid gave a cry, planted his feet against the ground, and pulled up. The ship lurched violently, nearly busting its internal balancing machines, and snapping off a rudder from drag…but it pulled up. It did a very sharp and rough angle, and began to lift the nose again. It still scraped the edge of the water…and the rear of the ship smacked against it a moment, rocking the entire crew and the ship with it. Everyone cried out. Cid quickly pulled it up and leveled off, taking a few metal panels off in the process. Now…he was nearly touching the ocean…and racing straight at the big ship in what appeared to be a head on collision.
The crew of that ship were surprised. They had expected the Sierra to crash and burn, and had actually thought they managed to shoot it down. But even now…only their forward guns were of any use. They slowly began to rotate them to take position…but Cid was closing in on them too fast. A wild look was in his eyes, as he chewed his cigarette and clenched the bars of the controls so hard his gloves began to split.
He knew what this thing was. It was something that the Shinra Corporation had considered building, but never came through with, during the Wutai-Shinra War. Toward the end of it, they established a base at Rocket Town, eliminating the need for it. But they had thought of building a ship so large…so massive…that it could actually act as a mobile runway for aircraft. They called it an aircraft carrier. He knew this had to be it. It was more than long enough to function as a strip, and it could definitely house Gelinkas. It had to be stopped. If it made it all the way to shore…it could bomb Midgar…
The enemy finally took aim and began to fire. But Cid was more than skilled enough to swing the Sierra out of the way of the oncoming hits. The crew was again thrown for a loop, but he managed to make it push through. They were closing and closing fast.
"Weapons! Are you armed?"
"Armed, sir!"
"Lock on!"
"…Target locked!"
"Hold…"
Cid inched the Sierra just a bit closer. The guns kept firing, but it was too late. He was beginning to undershoot more. They were almost on top of the ship now…nearly touching it.
In the end, Cid finally threw the controls up, pulling the ship into another sharp angle.
"FIRE!"
As the Sierra pulled up, a stream of rockets went shooting out from the bottom. Cid grinned in delight as he came out, seeing some twenty odd missiles come sailing and find their ways to specific guns, positions on the hull, and other weak spots. The Sierra lurched again, and it was shaken violently as fire and explosions ripped from beneath them. The salvo ignited, forcing their craft up and shaking it to the point where more circuits began to blow and panels blew off. But he continued to pull it up. The enemy ship's guns were too low to return fire at that sharp of an angle. He shot right over the top of it, still at full speed, and then spun around and began to pull up again, moving into the air.
"Yahoo!" He called out. "Take that, you son of a bitch!"
With the ride finally calmer, the crew slowly began to pick themselves up and return to their spots. But as they did, and as the Sierra spiraled and began to rise, they turned their heads to the front screen. They looked down to see what had happened. Fire and debris flew up around the mess they had made. The front of the ship was engulfed in fire, burning on even after the eruption was done. Cid cracked a grin. That one blast was straight on. It would have ruined a destroyer. This one had to have a big enough wound in the front to severely slow it down now… As he continued to ascend, he looked out and watched to see what would happen next, and how the enemy might compensate for it…
A few seconds later…both he, and the rest of the crew, were gaping in total shock.
The fires died down…the debris fell back…and revealed what had happened.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The guns shifted a bit to clear debris from the rockets, but then began to raise to their previous positions. The hull itself was perfect and flawless…not even dented. The payload had done nothing to the aircraft carrier. It had taken the shots without missing a beat. They hadn't even made the aircraft carrier pause in its onward motion. And now, the surprise over, it began to raise its guns once again to aim at the Sierra once more.
Cid's cigarette fell out of his open mouth. The entire bridge was silent. Even the doctors tending the wounded were frozen and staring at what had happened. Cid couldn't believe it. The Sierra was armed with the biggest and most powerful rockets available to the Planet Protector Army. If they couldn't do anything to that ship…then it meant, to the PPA, that it was effectively…invincible.
It couldn't be stopped. Not by anything that they had.
Cid clenched his hand into a fist, and smashed it against the console, giving a curse and a rather bitter cough. After that, still fuming, he turned and looked to the pilot. He scowled, but then sighed and motioned him to the controls.
"Take 'em." He flatly said. "Do as much damage as you can to the rest of their fleet…then let's get out of here and get back to the airfield. We're going to have to reequip so we can take out their Gelinkas before they reach bombing range…"
RULER
Ragnar held a hand to his head and sighed.
This was a disaster.
Everything was going wrong. It seemed their strategies never worked the same way twice, and that they could never hold anything more than one battle. The bad news was flooding in on the radios. The panicked communications officers were reading it off to him, and every minute it was something worse. Their ships had only been out there fifteen minutes…and things were going to hell.
"How many Bismarks are still active?"
"Out of the original sixty…" One officer answered darkly from his monitor. "…Only nineteen reported in on the last check."
"The flagship is ignoring all other bogies save for the Sierra." Another officer put in. "They are effectively keeping them from locking on, and they are amassing damage. They have fired off a few more salvos, but they weren't locked on and it is impossible to assess damage. One of the missiles might have hit one of ours… Captain Cid is putting in permission to return to base."
"What about the Bismarks that are left?" Ragnar called out. "Are they pulling back?"
"Negative. Bismark Leader reports that they are pinned down by these new units. He says going into the open is suicide."
Ragnar groaned. "How soon until our shore defenses can cover them?"
"At the enemy fleet's current speed…" One of the officers answered. "Not for another fifteen minutes. It appears that since the Bismarks moved into the fleet, however, that they have changed tactics. They are slowing down almost to a standstill. The time to range of our closest cannons will continue to increase."
Ragnar cursed rather explicitly, and smashed his fist against the chair. Damn them… He thought. They're doing it on purpose. They want to kill every last one of them. They're keeping them out where we can't help them.
The general swore and turned to one of the officers. "Put out a call to the Sierra. Tell them that they have to try and pick off some of the new bogies. They're the only thing we can run for interference. Order the Bismarks to withdraw the instant they're clear."
"Sir, Captain Cid has numerous casualities on board, and he says that-"
"Just do it!"
The officer shrank back at Ragnar's sudden violence, but then gave a nod and turned to carry it out. The man clenched his fist again. He prayed they could think of something out there. He had no way to help them here. He also hoped that their battle at the shore went better. But if Cid was telling the truth…if this new aircraft carrier was indeed invincible…then this would delay the inevitable.
I should have listened to that voice…
RULER
To be continued...