Chapter 11 - Pyrexia

BOTREK - ABOARD THE STALWART CASTLE

"Captain, new Arthron contact, bearing one three zero. High Kaki," barked the scanner operator aboard the bridge of the Stalwart Castle. The Steltian ship was as advanced as its island's shipbuilders could produce, and had a number of particularly well-tuned Arthron and Vothron scanners performing near-constant sweeps of the surrounding area. Additionally, a magnetic scanner was continually sweeping for metallic objects in the area - a nearly-silent method of identifying both enemy vessels and agents in the water.

"Are you sure?" replied the captain, making his way towards the operator.

"Yes, sir. Whatever it is, it's moving very quietly. Almost didn't pick it up."

"Put it on screen."

A quick flick of dials and switches, and the captain could see the computerized silhouette of a long tubular object, deep in the water below him.

"It isn't one of ours. Get an aquamarine team down there. Two Pikes on standby. Communications - pass it along to the rest of the fleet."

"Aye sir."

Botrek, Ursare Aquamarine of the 2nd "Bottom Feeders" Chain and Brother Lesser, stood at attention along with the rest of his team. Each was equipped with a Cordak carbine, despite a communal preference for their own protosteel claws. The group was gathered within a cage elevator, which presently was docked securely alongside the ship.

With a nod, Botrek signaled that his team was ready. The nod was returned by the Vortixx operator, who tugged at a lever. Slowly, the elevator descended, inch by inch, until the Ursare could feel the water lapping at their feet.

Settling completely into the water, the Ursare discarded their breathing masks, clipping them to their waists. Now in their natural element, they had no need for them.

Opening the cage door, the Ursare team spilled out of the elevator, and fell into an orderly formation. Botrek and his team had been briefed that there was a possible enemy contact, lurking a great depth below the fleet, and that he and his team would have to scout the area and determine its threat level.

Each Ursare made a quick visual confirmation with each other as they followed Botrek's lead. Based on the information he had been given, he knew more or less where the contact would be.

What he did not know, however, was what exactly the contact would look like. Quickly coming into view, he saw a large, rounded tube with a tower jutting from its midsection. It looked extremely bizarre, and he wondered if perhaps it was not simply some sort of Rahi.

"Visual contact with target," Botrek said into a whisperstone, relaying information back to the bridge crew of the Stalwart Castle, where an Ursare aquamarine would be translating the aquatic bubbling sounds into intelligible words for the captain.

"Proceed with analysis," came the reply, as Botrek urged his team forward.

Swimming closer to the massive object, they could see propellers and fins facing them.

"Confirmed, whatever it is, it's artificial. Possibly some sort of unmanned enemy submersible."

"Unmanned?" came the reply.

"Affirmative. No viewports."

"Whatever it is, it's not ours. Take it out," replied the captain.

"Aye, sir."

Waving to his team, Botrek made his way towards the object, before a sudden current struck him. The screws at the rear of the craft came to life, and it began to slowly push away from the group.

"Sir, enemy contact is splitting. Permission to pursue?"

"Permission granted."

Not even bothering to call his team with him, Botrek kicked his webbed feet as hard as he could, lithely pushing his way through the water. Slowly but surely, he could see the craft growing closer to him - he was outpacing it. Pulling alongside of the fin, he was about to grab hold of it when the force of the water pulling through the propeller began to take hold of him. He could feel himself being dragged backwards towards the rapidly spinning blades, and he cried out in fear.

Extending a single protosteel claw, he pushed it with all his might into the craft's fin, anchoring himself to the object and giving his legs a short break. Using his other claw, he pulled himself along the fin of the craft towards the main body.

Behind him, his team slowly followed, using their claws to pull themselves along the craft and protect against the water resistance.

Making his way onto the main body, Botrek summoned every ounce of his strength and pushed his claws into the hull as deep as they would go. Then, he pulled. For a moment, nothing happened, but soon the razor-sharp protosteel proved superior, and began to cleave three large gashes in the skin of the craft. Unsatisfied, he continued carving at the hull.

"Sir!" one of his team called, and Botrek glanced up. The team member - Rokak - was holding a barnacle mine in his hand. Botrek nodded, stepping back while Rokak approached, clamping the mine onto the hull alongside the clawmarks.

The rest of the Ursare aquamarines immediately dissipated, pulling away from the device, while Rokak pulled a set of wires linked to a detonator behind him. Once every member of the team was in position, Botrek called out.

"Clear!"

A massive explosion rocked the team, as they could feel the shockwave nearly throw them off the vessel. This shock was immediately counteracted by a pulling force, as they could suddenly feel the water tugging them towards the hole. The entire vessel bucked as water rushed into it, and it began to sink.

"Vessel is airtight, no water inside, I repeat, no water inside!" called Botrek, holding onto the hull with all of his might. He could see the inside of the ship, and felt a hot flash as a bright light came from the rapidly-filling compartment. With time, the suction force lessened, and Botrek and his team could breathe easier. The vessel, now weighed down by tons of water, ground against the seafloor, coming to a stop. Retrieving his whisperstone, Botrek spoke into it.

"Enemy vessel disabled, sir. Requesting permission to enter, for possible intel retrieval."

"Permission granted. Well done."

"Thank you, sir."

There was a sudden splitting noise - like a loud, sharp, shriek. He could feel it pass through him like a wave, before Botrek felt incredible pain. His very brain crystal shattered into pieces, and his eyes cracked. In an instant, his life was snuffed out, and he began to sink to the seafloor, dead along with the rest of his team.

Meanwhile, several ships on the surface would hear a loud sound as the U.S.S. North Dakota sent out one last sonar ping.

GUILLAUME DUBOIS - PARIS

Guillaume Dubois' head sank into his hands at the news. An entire American submarine, lost with all hands. He was amazed that the enemy had detected the craft so quickly, and were able to destroy it - there were not many countries with fleets so large, and submarine defenses so well-developed.

The meeting with NATO had gone well. It seemed that this attack was unprecedented on all fronts, as none of the other nations had been made aware of the situation in their own right. Dubois felt a small twinge of pride for being the one to bring the concern to the table, but that emotion was suppressed beneath a larger layer of concern. The Americans were quick to jump to action, as he had hoped they would be, and within a day had begun mobilizing a fleet from Hawaii, while Dubois did the same with the French ships in the region. He had hoped that the combined French and American fleet would prove an effective deterrent for their mysterious foe, but alas, satellite imaging proved that they were still moving undeterred through the Pacific at their usual pace.

Ever since his meeting with Miron, he had her doing extensive sweeps of the French intelligence network. Dubois was furious that this had not been brought to his attention until now, and more than anything, he wanted to know just who his enemy was in this situation. Unfortunately, neither Miron nor satellite photography would help him in this regard. As soon as the enemy fleet had moved out from beneath the cloud cover of the tropical storm, he had had scores of photographs taken of the enemy ships. Each was more puzzling than the last.

The ships were larger than any he was familiar with, and constructed strangely. Initial possibilities of the fleet being Russian were disproven quickly, with satellite imagery of Vladivostok showing it to be as ill-equipped for a fleet sortie as it had been a week prior. Not a single part of them could be identified as belonging to China or North Korea - a fact that concerned Dubois greatly. However, he was a highly skeptical individual, and his first thought did not wander to "interdimensional invaders", but rather, the possibility that one of the aforementioned nations had constructed ships with technology hitherto unknown to the West.

After another prolonged meeting with NATO, Dubois found himself in a government car, being driven to a top secret meeting with a U.S. Navy official - Fleet Admiral of the Pacific's Third Fleet, Admiral Harper.

Dubois had met with Admiral Harper previously, though not in person - rather, through a video conference at the onset of the current catastrophe. Harper was a gruff, bearded man who spoke loudly, and who Dubois felt looked more like a lumberjack than any sort of dignified military official. The French official took an immediate disliking to Harper, though it was not the sort of thing he would dare say. Of course, Dubois had taken a general disliking to most Americans, as they were all very much the same to him: loud, rude, and tactless.

From within the tinted windows of his car, he reviewed the latest reports from Miron. She was still tracking the enemy fleet, which was heading due east, into the heart of French Polynesia. Gritting his teeth, he continued to read the debriefing on the American submarine, which had been surveilling the enemy.

With a squeal of tires against gravel, the car finally came to a stop, and Dubois' chauffeur rushed to his side to open the door for him. As Dubois climbed out of the car, he pulled his coat tight around him; it was growing quite cold, as fall was turning to winter.

As was the standard in such situations, the meeting was being held in Hotel de Brienne, the heart of France's armed forces. Marching up the steps, Dubois rushed inside, warming his hands. A secretary greeted him, and the eagerly-waiting Harper immediately jumped to his feet. Dubois sighed as Harper rushed to his side.

"Dubois, you devil, glad to finally make your acquaintance in person!" he said, in a voice so loud that Dubois could swear his chauffeur could hear it from outside.

"Good afternoon, Fleet Admiral. It's good to have you here. We have a lot to talk about," Dubois said wearily.

Sitting at a table that was altogether far too large for a meeting between Dubois, Miron, and Harper, the two men listened to Miron's reports once again, although both had read and re-read her documents several times over already. The unknown enemy fleet was maintaining speed and heading, and it would be about three days before they reached the borders of French Polynesian waters.

Periodically throughout the meeting, Harper would stroke his bulbous beard and ask a pointed question, while Dubois stayed silent throughout the entire briefing. As Miron concluded her report, Dubois and Miron looked to each other. Dubois spoke first.

"We have three days to prepare for the first major naval battle of the century," he mused, as Harper nodded with a small smirk.

"Our priority should be the civilian centers," said Harper, grimly. "Miron - you said you had population data on the islands?"

Miron nodded, fishing through her briefcase before pulling out a file and sliding it towards the two. Harper glanced at its contents.

"This one. Who-a-heenee…eetee?"

"Huahine Iti," she corrected.

"That has the highest population, and it's on the western edge of the region, right next to… I'm sorry, I'm not even going to try to pronounce that, but this one here with a few thousand people," he said, pointing at an island on the list. "It'll be one of the first places the enemy lands, and I say we rendezvous both our fleets offshore to begin evacuating citizens."

Dubois was impressed - for as much distaste as he had towards the American, he had to admit that the plan was perfectly sound.

"Agreed. Huahine Iti it is. Miron, can you get us a map of the waters around the island?"

Miron turned to the projector while the two men continued to confer in a hushed tone. A plan was coming together.

CAPTAIN BORIDA - ABOARD THE ETERNAL IVORY

Captain Borida had been sailing since before the Makuta had come to his universe. His first memories were of the waves, and his deft and elegant dealings with the sea. It was no coincidence that he sailed underneath the command of Antroz - he had been handpicked by the Makuta on account of his skill.

With grace, he stood tall at the bridge of his ship, named after the great leader he once idolized. Both he and his bridge crew were all Ihidauri (save for the Ce-Toa communicator), denizens of the once-mighty kingdom of Menota. In the thousands of years since the fall of the League, he had sworn allegiance to a dozen different masters, all of whom trusted his mastery of the seas, making Antroz the latest in a long line. The lineage of Borida's leadership was not the object of his current consideration, however. It was instead the presence of large displacements in the water, at the far limit of his turret's ranges. He huddled alongside the scanner operator, staring at the displacement profiles, murmuring under his breath.

"That's four… no, five, with a water displacement of at least ninety maki on the big one," he said, analyzing its profile. A barrage of scanner pings were slowly shaping the enemy ships. Turning to a map table, Borida pressed a button. In an instant, tiny hexagonal pillars, less than a finger's width in diameter, began to rise out of the table. As the pillars rose, they began to take a shape, until a rough model of the enemy fleet was arrayed before Borida.

The enemy was made up of at least a dozen ships that he could yet see. A mid-sized flat, rectangular ship sat at the center of the formation, while four more conventionally-shaped ships surrounded it - one in each direction. An ugly, flat, squat ship was parked off to the rear of the formation, with two ships flanking it - appearing to be large gunboats of some kind. At the head of the formation were three more of the standard ships, and two of the smaller gunboats. Turning to the communications officer, Borida barked an order.

"Message to the Change of Heart, 'Thirteen ships at one-hundred and thirty-five kio and holding, advising the Unforseen Expense to scramble fighters and prepare recon picket for first contact, end message,', then get a signalman to the wings; watch for running light messages."

The Ce-Toa nodded, sitting at their station and bowing their head. Their Oroha began to glow as they relayed the message to Antroz's ship. A signalman, overhearing the order, rushed to the wing of the bridge - an area out of the way, with better visibility of the rest of the fleet. Grabbing a scope, he placed it against his eye, while taking a refreshing glance at the running light translation guide he carried under his arm.

Within moments, the Ce-Toa stood upright, and returned the captain's earlier volume.

"Antroz advises we bring Hau shielding online, and stand by for further orders. Skyfighters are scrambling -"

As he spoke, the rush of engines filled the air, as Borida saw a pair of Skyfighters streak through the air off the Ivory's bow, wingtip vortices sending small white streamers behind the edges of the various fins and flight planes of the vehicles. If he were to squint, Borida could have seen a Matoran pilot strapped in at the controls of the aircraft, with an atmospheric mask shielding their aerial-variant Kanohi, and air tubes hooked up to a specialized backpack. Borida, however, was not paying attention to the Skyfighters, as he was instead listening to the Ce-Toa, who was attempting to finish their earlier statement.

"Skyfighters are scrambling, linking you onto the psionic network. Antroz is opening up negotia-"

Again the communications officer was interrupted, this time by the crash of objects impacting against the hull. Borida's attention turned to the source of the noise in a portion of a second, as he could see a line of circular holes had raked along his hull and just narrowly missed the bridge. He furrowed his brow for a moment before a whistling noise was heard. His eyes widened, and he lunged for the active shielding button.

His movement was too slow, however, as the first of four two-hundred and fifty pound bombs crashed against the ship. A moment later, two more. Luckily, the fourth narrowly missed, landing in the water alongside the ship, sending a spray of sea foam into the air. The three consecutive concussive blasts battered the ship and threw the crew to the ground or against the walls. Borida could smell smoke. Climbing upright, he rushed to the viewport at the front of the bridge, looking for the source of the attack.

"Enemy fighters registered - two targets, fixed wing, closed canopy. Engaging," came the report from the Skyfighter pilots, who, far above the ships, were rocketing towards the American F-22's, confident yet oblivious. Below, the communications officer hailed Captain Borida.

"Antroz calls for weapons free, fire at will."

Borida nodded gravely as he looked out the viewport. He could already see the crew dealing with the fires, though one of the bombs had struck a forward turret, and he could tell that there was no way it could traverse as intended without extensive repair time. He noted the fact internally, but kept his focus on the present.

"Do we have someone in the nest?" Borida called out. The Quartermaster was first to reply.

"Yes sir!"

"Tell him to scope up; I want him signaling for incoming fire as soon as he sees it. Kravezi, don't you dare move your hand off that shielding button, we're not taking another hit like that again."

"Yes sir!" replied Kravezi, whose hand hovered over the shielding button. The ship's energy shields were a miracle of Xian engineering, but were also expensive to use.

Firstly, they were a massive drain on the ship's plasmatic reactor. Each panel of the ship was wired with specially-designed circuitry and components that allowed it to project a small field - akin to that of a Kanohi Hau's protective shield - around itself. This shield would protect any plates from physical attacks, preventing the enemy's shots from puncturing the hull or disabling the weapons. However, doing so requires a great deal of power, and coupled with the constant drain caused by the system mistaking the motion of waves beneath the ship for enemy fire, the shields could only be activated for a brief period - a matter of minutes, at most - before they would be forced to shut down.

Secondly, the energy shields were nondiscriminating in their protection. While they prevented external attacks from puncturing the ship's armor, they similarly prevented the ship's weapons from firing, as any turrets fired would find their ammunition striking the energy shields the moment they were launched. In a best-case scenario, the ammunition would simply prove itself a dud and jam the weapons. In a worst-case scenario, the impact would detonate explosive shells and Cordak rockets, causing the weapons to destroy themselves and their magazines from the inside out. In either case, it meant that the ship could not utilize its weapons while the shields were active.

Borida continued to listen as the chatter of the Skyfighter pilots above was psionically beamed into his head. Elsewhere on the bridge, he could hear the communications officer tell him that a second wing of Skyfighters was being launched in under two minutes, though he ignored the information. He did not care how the aerial battle went as long as the enemy was unable to harass his ship.

"Enemy contact! Airbound - possible incoming fire!" called the scanner.

"Range?" replied Borida.

"Ten kio and closing - ninety-point-five now, sir. Closing fast."

Borida did mental calculations. He preferred to determine his own time-to-impact rather than wait for an underling to figure it out for him.

Three seconds to cross point-five kio…

"Get the nest to verify enemy contact!" he shouted.

Nine-point-five times three is twenty-eight-point-five…

"Nest confirms enemy contact, low to surface, long and thin. Possible Cordak round," came a reply.

Five seconds to calculate, round to twenty-three…

"New contacts! Same profile, but a lot more of them!"

"Teridax, they're fast! Watch it, he's coming on your left -" came the call from a Skyfighter pilot.

Twenty seconds.

Borida turned his gaze back towards the crew.

"Communications, signal for Antroz to call shields raised."

"Aye, sir!"

"Kravezi, on my mark."

"Aye, sir!"

Fifteen. Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve.

"Sound collision!"

A red light filled the room, along with two short sharp klaxons.

"Three, two, one, mark!"

Kravezi slammed his fist against the shielding button. In an instant, every panel throughout the ship felt a current of power as a set of minutely-scaled Kanoka slammed against the hull. A yellow glow surrounded the ship. A moment later, the cruise missile struck against the ship. The resulting explosion rocked the vessel yet again, and a bright yellow flare rippled in waves around the source of the impact. A second missile, seconds later, followed. Similarly to the first one, the devastating explosion found itself repelled by the Hau shielding, leaving not a scratch on Ivory.

The rest of the fleet was not as lucky. While most found their shields raised in time, one of the ships on the edge of the formation - the Protosteel, which did not live up to its name - failed to activate its shielding in time. Instead of the missiles striking shielded plates, three missiles impacted the unarmored hull of the ship, causing a massive explosion. The entire ship lifted from the water for a moment as the magazines for the turrets began to catch fire. Thick clouds of smoke billowed from the ship, and klaxons rang out. Borida glanced through the viewport as he watched sailors leap from the deck of the ship and into the water.

"Pull up, pull up!"

"He's on my tail -"

"I'm on his. Launch countermeasure spread."

The skyfighters above fought valiantly, despite their foe being better armored and faster. While Skyfighters proved more nimble than an F-22, they lacked appropriate weapons and speed to go toe-to-toe with human aircraft. However, this soon would prove irrelevant, as the third duo of Skyfighters took off from the deck of the Unforseen Expense.

A second later, a smoking, burning wreck began to fall from the sky as the first of the enemy fighters struck the waves. A cheer went up from the crew as they watched the wreck smash against the water and slowly submerge, fires smothered by the rush of the ocean.

"New contact, fifty kio and closing - form up on me!" called the Skyfighter pilots to each other, as another fighter jet approached the Brotherhood's fleet.

Below the air combat, Borida maintained a watchful eye at the helm of the ship.

"Damage report," he calmly requested. Several different stations perked up in response.

"Minor concussive wave on sections one and two, minimal damage!"

"Overheating in hull panels fourteen and sixteen, engineering wants us to drop shielding so they can perform thermal calibrations."

"Forward turret one still non-responsive, estimate four hours before traversal is functional again. Fires have been extinguished."

"Two minor injuries from the crew, both taken to the medical bay."

Borida was pleased - or as pleased as he could be, considering the state of affairs. His ship was faring much better than he could have hoped. The ineffectiveness of the enemy attack launched Borida's mind into a spiral as he considered the state of their weaponry.

Their projectiles are slower than ours, but with a much higher range if they can land that many hits at that far. Shields were able to protect with minimal issues, so they're very dispersed… They must either operate with fliers in the air at all times, or have much more advanced sensor arrays than we do.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the communications officer spoke.

"Antroz is requesting all ships move into flank; he's calling for a defensive push, with rotating shield drops."

Borida nodded, being familiar with the tactic. It was a generally simple practice - the ship would move forward as fast as possible while maintaining its formation. Each ship would keep its shields raised as it did so, and, ship-by-ship, drop the shields long enough to recharge and fire a barrage. In doing so, a near-constant stream of fire would be projected towards the enemy, while the fleet itself would be protected from most counter-battery fire. Antroz's ship would coordinate the pattern of shield-drops via its running lights, and a signalman on the bridge of each ship would relay the orders to their captain.

Elsewhere in the formation, three ships - Xian destroyers, sleek, black, and covered in large triangular armor plates - were given special commands by Antroz. With the sound of heavy machinery and three sharp klaxons, the entire deck crew of each ship scurried indoors, sealing the watertight bulkheads behind them. As the armor panels shifted, the craft began to sink, lowering into the water. Barring a faint stream of bubbles behind them that quickly shrank out of view, it would be impossible to tell that the ships were ever there. They were amongst the most advanced destroyers in the Xian arsenal, and virtually invisible once hidden beneath the waves.

The entire fleet rumbled as its engines came to life. Titanically-sized screws churned faster and faster as each ship picked up its speed. The enemy fleet was still not in visual range, but Borida was hoping to fix that soon enough.

"Scanner, reverify range to target," Borida called, glancing towards the hex-column projection. It shrank, allowing the table to encompass the full range of the ocean between the brotherhood's fleet, and the enemy's.

"On or about one-hundred and thirty-four kio, sir!"

"Holding position?"

"Yes, sir."

Borida counted internally - he needed the ship to be within one hundred kio if he was to have any chance of hitting his target, but even then, as confident as he was in the prowess of his gunnery crews, he was unconvinced they could land any decent hits until they closed the bulk of that gap.

"Time to one-hundred kio?"

"Twelve and a half minutes at current speed, sir!"

"Good, keep me posted."

Twelve minutes and twenty-nine seconds later, the Eternal Ivory was finally able to spot the enemy fleet over the edge of the horizon. Over the course of the past several minutes, the fleet had been continually bombarded by enemy projectiles, which, thanks to several watchful eyes and finely-tuned scanners, failed to damage the fleet in any noteworthy manner. Each ship maintained its shielding as needed, and was still in perfect formation.

Far above, the Skyfighters were faring much worse.

"This is Dragon one-one, requesting permission to return to ship. Dorsal flight surface has been damaged, and one of my engines is about to burn out."

"What's the status of your wing partner, Dragon one-one, over?"

"Dragon one-two is down, I repeat, partner is down."

"Negative, maintain cruising altitude -"

"Enemy projectile, performing evasive -"

A moment later, Dragon one-one was struck by an air-to-air missile which sent him spiraling down into the ocean below. With a crash, he joined the rest of the Skyfighters in a watery grave.

Borida frowned, overhearing the psionic network messages. Although the fleet was having little trouble facing the enemy ships, the enemy fighters were an altogether different story.

"Communications, signal to Antroz, requesting standby on Skyfighter launches, and permission to activate arc tower."

The communications officer nodded, and passed along the message. A moment later, he nodded enthusiastically.

"Unforseen Expense is standing by, arc tower is a go."

"Fire control. Bring arc tower online, double ignition."

"Arc tower aye."

On the exterior of the ship, a massive pillar began to rise from a horizontal position to an angled one. It was covered with concentric rings, and a series of metal beams encased it, protecting it and giving it structure. At its tip, a large, mirror-finished ball stood, pointed defiantly towards the clouds above. The tower was easily the length of a Kanohi Dragon, with a small catwalk running its entire length. Below, beings took shelter inside the ship, while the technicians assigned to the weapon donned rubber cowls to protect their brain crystals. The arc tower was an unpredictable weapon, and they did not want to suffer the effects of a backblast if they could avoid it. Blue light began to crawl up the discs, and the air crackled with an unrivaled intensity. With each passing second, a low hum grew louder and louder. Beneath the deck of the ship, two of the tower's four massive generators tirelessly powered the device.

"Arc tower at ninety percent charge," relayed the Ihidauri at the weapons station.

"Drop shields, fire on my command."

Borida waited a second, before he could see the glint of an enemy fighter far in the sky above him.

"Fire."

A colossal crack rang out as a bright blue beam of lightning burst forth from the sphere at the end of the tower. The bolt of energy crackled destructively, sending a blinding light outwards as it arced through the sky. It did not even need to hit the enemy fighters - the bolt simply passed by them, sending small arcs of energy out towards everything unlucky enough to be in the air nearby. In an instant, fighters were scorched and blackened, as their control systems were ravaged by waves of electricity beyond anything they could handle. The pilots who survived found themselves badly-burned and sitting in the cockpit of a dead, out-of-control jet.

The second the tower had fired its devastating wave, it began to sink back towards the deck, fitting neatly into a sheltered groove where it remained when not in use. The shielding returned again, and the Ivory was entirely safe once more.

At the same time, Antroz passed along a signal through the fleet. The first ship of many turned to a forty-five degree angle before dropping its shields. A sudden wave of fire poured out of it, striking two of the enemy ships. Although the shots were wildly inaccurate, at least one Cordak rocket was lucky enough to hit the enemy, and Borida could see smoke rising from the target.

A second ship began to turn as Antroz flashed his running lights to signal for them. Another stream of shots rang out, this time joined by a Hagah plasma cannon, which raked across the flank of an enemy ship. The hull around the impact zone glowed with a bright orange light where the metal melted under the intense heat of the beam. Once more, the majority of the shots failed to land on-target, but those that did proved entirely sufficient.

"Signal from the Change of Heart, in ten seconds, break port forty-five, open fire," called the signalman, reminding Borida to prepare his own ship for attack. The captain nodded, standing behind the helmsman, counting down the seconds internally.

Four, three, two…

"Break to port, forty-five, fire control - prepare targets."

The entire ship rocked, turning to the side, as its various turrets picked their targets. The four primary turrets were Cordak rocket launchers, while a single Hagah plasma cannon was installed to supplant their offensive payload. As the ship drew into position, Borida gave the command to fire.

Once more the Brotherhood's fleet launched a destructive wave towards the enemy, landing few but meaningful shots. Borida smirked at the sight of the Hagah cannon cutting through the waterline of an enemy ship - the laser sending clouds of steam billowing into the air where it met water. The enemy ship began to tip, taking on water through its bow.

I'm surprised a Hagah cannon at this distance is working so well - their shields must be very weak, he thought to himself, before an idea conjured itself in his mind. Do they not have shields?

He was pulled from his thoughts as chaos broke out in the enemy lines. An object rose from the water, black panels glistening as rivulets of sea poured off of its hull. The first of the Xian ships appeared in the center of the enemy formation.

The enemy fleet immediately suffered a visible moment of confusion as they found their positions entirely compromised. A moment later, the deck guns of the Xian ship opened fire, shredding into the largest of the enemy ships. A fighter attempting to launch from the deck of the enemy carrier found itself rushing nose-first into an explosion, as the ship took hit after hit from the Xian destroyer. Moments later, a second destroyer emerged, followed by the third. The enemy fleet descended into chaos, their ships attempting to maneuver around the Xian stealth ships. Each destroyer opened fire on different targets, synchronizing a coordinated assault on the enemy fleet.

Borida smirked, watching the incident unfold through the viewports of the Ivory's bridge. It did not matter whether the enemy defeated the Xians or not, at this point - it would take them so long to do so that the Brotherhood would be in optimal range, and from there, they would be swiftly crushed.

The battle lasted only ten minutes longer. From the moment the Xians launched their surprise attack until the moment the enemy initiated a retreat, the Brotherhood took almost no losses. Some damage to one of the Xian destroyers made it incapable of submerging, and another one lost a large portion of its ablative armor, but in total, the Brotherhood had only truly lost a single cruiser in the entire battle. Conversely, the enemy had been badly damaged. Their carrier, along with three other ships, had been sunk entirely. Two ships had been left behind in the retreat, suffering damage to their propulsion - a fact that the Brotherhood was quick to monopolize on by sending Aquamarines to capture the vessels. Each of the remaining enemy ships had suffered severe casualties to their crew, and most would not be seaworthy again without extensive drydock repairs.

Borida found the entire experience quite refreshing, as he had not had a proper fight in quite some time, and this was one that had gone very well for him and his crew. He had even been prepared to engage a hunt, to destroy all the remaining enemy ships, until Antroz gave the order that the fleet would stand down. Ah well, Borida thought to himself. No point wasting energy on a wild Kewa chase. They'll run back home and tell everyone how badly they were beaten, and then next time they'll think twice about not surrendering.

Smiling, Borida turned away from the viewport, thinking of a bright future, of conquest and further victory. He was eager to meet it.