Quiet humming followed Tanager as she strolled down the hall. A curious sound, its volume muted yet brimming with the passion within her. A hymn of victory but one reserved for herself.
"My liege." Tanager turned, greeted with the appearance of her lieutenant as she quickly bowed. "May I ask what your purpose is here?"
Tanager smirked. "Must you be so uptight? I was simply looking forward to our imminent triumph."
Geofon's expression did not change. "What of the preparations?"
"They will be complete in but a moment," the battleship replied, waving her hand. "Once preparations are finished, our enemies shall be vanquished and the war shall be over. But what is a victory without a celebration to commemorate it?"
A slight twinge betrayed her advisor's visage. "... A pre-victory celebration?"
A sly smile spread on Tanager's lips. "A mere banquet of sorts. A ritual of the grand victory to come. A royal feast before the slaughter."
"Then I will see to it that an adequate defense is established-"
"Ha! You worry too much. Our other installations are protected with the aid of those mindless automatons and this very harbor is watched with careful eyes and shielded by our collective might should an interloper arrive.
"Our enemies fear us, and rightfully so. We will see to it that their fears be materialized when the day arrives." And with that, Tanager turned and resumed her walk, leaving behind Geofon in her brooding concession.
The battleship continued her walk, alone in her own daydreams. But as she descended further into the base's interior, she soon realized she was not alone.
"Having a pleasant day?"
Tanager stopped but did not turn in surprise. Her cheery facade had melted away to reveal a grim frown. "... I have not seen you for a while."
"We have been enjoying the show you put up." Observer Alpha shifted in her seat of tentacle-like rigging, her smile, like her eyes, glowing in the darkness. "Even though things have transpired as expected, the performance from all have been exquisite."
"As 'expected'... Do you have something to share with me?" Tanager pressed, her tone constricting to a hiss. "You wouldn't make your reappearance on this day without an ulterior motive."
Observer giggled. "Oh my. Already casting suspicion on us despite having welcomed our aid?"
"You are foolish to think I would not be suspicious," retorted the battleship. "Your armies may have given us this continent, but never forget that it will be us that will grasp victory. We have waged war; we have inflicted death in the name of the glorious Kingdom. You have not."
Despite this, the Siren seemed amused. "You are a fickle one. To so resolutely ward others off with a shield of distrust. We have offered something enticing yet you do not see us as a respectable asset. What glories you have achieved thanks to us you instead credit it to yourself."
"... You still have not answered my question."
Tanager heard a sigh of fleeting amusement. "Pride does come before the fall, does it not…?"
By the time Tanager whirled around, the Siren had disappeared.
Like a lively morning, the harbor base was in motion with activity. Brisk movement to and fro occupied the main avenues. Gossip and brief chatter could be heard throughout as personnel made preparations. Many feet patrolled in the open and many eyes were everywhere as Comberth Harbor steadily grew to life, more so than any other day seen previously.
Even when hiding among the shadows of the enemy stronghold, Sheffield's job was not made any easier.
A quick peek, followed by a swift and decisive scan, then quickly darting to the next concealment. Rinse and repeat.
"Gack!" Sheffield whirled, only to find Edinburgh clutching her foot in pain. "I… I stubbed my little toe!"
Sheffield sighed. Her job really was not made any easier.
"Lower your voice, or they'll hear." Taking a quick peek, Sheffield saw no witnesses. "Follow me and keep up." She dashed to the nearest wall before taking the nearest turn. Pausing to mentally note her location and heading, she nodded to herself and moved on.
"Um, is this the way?" the spectacled maid asked nervously.
Sheffield didn't hesitate with her response. "It is." The main base that was the heart of the enemy activity continued to beat dangerously close. Yet it was not their destination.
Directly ahead, they saw a padlocked gate. Beside it was a sign; as they approached, Sheffield knew they were on the right path. "Watch my back." Kneeling before the lock with a close look, Sheffield withdrew a pair of picks and quickly went to work.
Not even a second had passed before Edinburgh squeaked yet again. "U-um, I can't help but feel we're b-being watched..."
Immediately, the lock clicked open and immediately Sheffield checked her surroundings. To her annoyance and relief, her companion's fear was unfounded. "Come on."
The two maids tip-toed in. Inside, the dim light offered a mixed refuge for the infiltrators: as much as the shadows comforted them, the same darkness clouded their vision. Carefully, they entered, a pistol already in Sheffield's hands as she swept the room. But she found none to greet them, only peculiar absence.
"No one on watch," Sheffield quietly observed. "They must be so confident to be this careless..."
Where there would be base personnel, they instead found themselves before a control panel, where indiscernible lights, switches, and displays populated an otherwise silent and faceless surface.
This was it.
"Edinburgh." Without further prompt, the maid in question immediately produced a crowbar. Handing it to Sheffield, she quickly scanned the blank surface for her point of entry. Spying out a panel, she yanked it open with a swift stab. Sheffield saw a nest of lights and wires and without a word gave her companion a beckoning palm; without a word, a pair of cutters appeared in her vacant hand. With surgeon-like hands, she went to work.
Within seconds, the deed was done. Little had changed on the panel's surface to confirm the act but the pair could sense great effects from within.
Quickly stashing the tools away, Sheffield procured her wireless.
"Royal to Mobius, enemy radar silent. You are cleared to approach."
"Affirmative, Royal. Head to exfil. Mobius out."
Transmission delivered, Fort Grace turned to the others. "We have confirmation. With their eyes down, the Aegir Fleet won't see us coming. The Royal maids did their job, now it's time to do ours."
As they gathered as an armada, the faces of all the carriers varied, from the eagerness of Vulture and White Valley to the grim determination of Buzzard and Arquette.
"All right! This is the kind of action my bank account's craving for!"
"Ugh. Must you be so outspoken of your mercenary ways? If only I could spend my days playing polo than accompany you..."
"My Swordfishes may be more worthy of a museum than in the air with your planes, but they're no strangers to crippling even the mightiest warships! Ready or not, I, Ark Royal, shall do my best!"
Amid the enthusiasm, Kestrel stood in solemn silence. Though devoid of words, her gaze ahead revealed her thoughts.
The winds of war were blowing. But which way they blew she could never be certain. Like the tides of battle, they would always shift. What could be a sign of good omen could be become a harbinger of tragedy…
"I can tell what you're thinking," a warm voice began, snapping Kestrel to reality. She turned to find herself facing her older sister.
"Buzzard?"
A small smile appeared on Buzzard's face. "That look on your face. You're worried, but it's not just about the mission outcome."
Kestrel was taken aback - it was not an expression she saw from Buzzard often. She collected her thoughts but before she could voice them, Buzzard spoke again. "No need to tell me how concerned you are for all of us."
Kestrel hid her timid face. "You know me too well."
"Of course. We're your older sisters after all. What are we if not to consider your feelings?"
"That's right!" Vulture exclaimed, suddenly appearing by Buzzard's shoulder. "'Lil sis has every right to be worried about us. Well so are we! So long as we're together the Silver Star Idol'll keep singing!"
Kestrel's face flushed red at that proclamation. "Vulture!"
"What?" the tomboy laughed. And as she did, so did Kestrel. Even Buzzard couldn't help but beam at the sight.
All doubts dispelled, Kestrel turned to face the looming horizon. All eyes followed her gaze, their thoughts aligned on the same path.
The winds of war were blowing. But no matter which direction it blew, they would overcome the tides together.
In veins of the Comberth base, a young figure excitedly dashed down the hallways. "Come on, come on!" she beckoned impatiently. But as insistent as she was, there was no room for waiting within her diminutive form that was bursting with playful energy.
Rose Kingdom Destroyer
FENRIS
She raced down the hall in almost haphazard direction, her furry tail waving against the wind. Her messy gray mane and her ear-like tufts could barely keep up, her enthusiasm unhindered by a minimalist assortment of a nearly-unbuttoned leather jacket with propped collars and fur lining and short-shorts. Her paw-shaped tag attached to her collar jingled as she bounced around the halls to her companion's stoic chagrin. So energetic she was that her rigging remained even as she ran on land, the hallway floor marred with sprinkled footprints of a very recent expedition. Her dual missile pods hung by her side but a disembodied gun turret prancing excitedly on four stubby legs. Although tethered to Fenris on a leash, no one was sure who was really in charge of who.
"What're you all excited for? We're not late." A voice, cool like ice, came after the destroyer pup with unconcern.
Rose Kingdom Destroyer
KOLGA
In contrast with Fenris, her spiky ice-blue hair remained unrustled, kept in place by her steady pace and the wool winter hat of white and blue; even its ear flaps and her loose-fitting coat swayed little against the eager ship's lead. And despite the warm season, it did little to discourage Kolga from her attire of winter clothes: coat, mittens, and snow boots. Like Fenris, she too had preserved her rigging out of haste, its appearance identical to all others but with an ice-like tint of light blue.
And like ice, a serious complexion ruled her face.
"The gathering Tanager had planned is only a minute away. There's no need to hurry."
"Then why are we still waiting here for?!" Fenris childishly objected, brandishing a fang as she whined. "I wanna go! I wanna go!"
Kolga sighed. "... Is it really that important to you?"
Instantly, Fenris's gears shifted. "Well there's gonna be truffle soup, roasted turkey, sliced ham, apple pie, roasted buns..."
Kolga rolled her eyes. As much as she didn't believe her claims, she did find it peculiar that their queen would mark the occasion with such a cordial event. With battle preparations near complete and the war still ongoing, she initially thought it was to be a meeting to finalize a winning strategy, with all the seriousness and gravitas that such gathering would imply.
… Well, not that some food wouldn't hurt.
Ahead by the grand double doors, a familiar figure awaited. "About time you two arrived!"
"Yes! I'm here! I'm here!" Fenris happily barked as she spun like a top.
Kolga was unmoved by reception. "And who was it that ordered one last patrol around the perimeter that we completed right on the nick of time?"
"Shut up!" Herne snapped. "Not my fault that Geofon ordered one last round of patrols right after Tanager wanted all of us here. But whatever, everyone's here now." Without further ado, Herne pushed the door open and the trio stepped inside into an entirely new world of grand opulence and display.
What was once the atrium of some business-minded administration building had radically transformed to its logical conclusion under the hands of its new masters. The marble and plaster white remained unchanged, yet the signs of revisionism bled everywhere: influence of orange adorned the walls as sweeping decorations, the interior surfaces that hinted of a quieter - if not peaceful - life were displanted with the austerity of authority.
But what the walls lacked in substance, the center floor more than accommodated for its shortcomings. A grand stage was set where all of the Aegir Fleet had gathered. But instead of actors, the performance was simply the participation of a grand banquet where all breeds of cuisine inhabited atop the table's crisp pearl cloth.
At the head of such a grandiose sight sat Tanager with the majestic view of the sparkling sea of the harbor behind her. The daylight glow bequeathed her image with an almost angelic aura as she rose. "Knights of the Rose Kingdom and of the Aegir Fleet! You have all gathered today to celebrate the fruits of your labor.
"Loyally have you served under our banner; diligently have you toiled in our nation's conflicts. But such hard work on the line of duty deserves an appropriate reward. You hold the distinction and privilege of being a proud member of our 'Invincible Fleet', but such preeminence pales before more… material rewards, do they not?"
Sweeping her hand before the table before her, she continued. "Let this be the physical proof of your reward, of your continued loyalty! You are my Invincible Fleet and the Invincible Fleet is you. May you be the shield of the Rose Kingdom and the sword against our foes!
"Today, we dine! For tomorrow we send our enemies to hell!"
A glass was raised and a cascade of lifting glass followed. Swiftly the atmosphere became merry.
Beluga barged amid the open buffet with sparkling eyes (turns out the eyepatch was just for fashion). "Aye, Lazuli! Come have some of the salmon ye salty dog! And forget about the sauce; I like 'em raw!"
"W-wha-I, um, s-sure..."
In a secluded part of the hall, the two submarines Beowulf π and Beowulf v sat, engrossed in their own private company and interests.
"The options are highly varied and innumerable, but the probability to try all the dishes at least once would be one in three-hundred!"
"We'd be full before we even try, nu. On a different topic, it will be interesting to calculate the fleet's preferred tastes based on consumption. Would be a fascinating diversion, nu."
A small sense of dissent rose among the destroyers as Herne leered at the racoon-like trickster.
"Keep a close eye on Thiassi. No telling what prank she'll pull in a place like this."
"Worry not!" Taisch proclaimed. "By the watchful eye of the slumbering demon the pitiful primitive prankster shall be nullified!"
"Ooo! Me, me! I can help out! I can help out!" Fenris happily barked.
"... Maybe I should ask someone else instead."
Elsewhere, the Aquila Vanguard kept to themselves in their clique.
"Mm-hm! This is some great stuff! I wonder how much it cost to get food this good delivered here! You don't get to experience meals of this high quality on a modest budget! Tanager must have spared no expense."
Magpie looked to her side, only to find Finch engrossed in her handheld game console to pay much attention, uttering only murmurs that narrated her actions.
"Come on… come on… yeah, got that power-up… jump here, jump there..."
The sound of a familiar voice and clinking glass drew both their eyes up as they saw Condor traipsing towards the destroyers, glass of wine in hand. Her approach caught their attention as they drew to her, unafraid.
"My, how are the good little children doing? Enjoying the party? Hm-mm, do please make sure to eat your vegetables like good little destroyers; you won't grow strong and healthy with sweets and meat alone. Oh, but fret not young ones, with diligence comes good reward. A think some special sweets would suffice..."
"... She's already hit the wine section, that drink's gotta be too high a level for her," Finch muttered.
"That strong? I wonder how old that would be - old wine's gotta be rare and expensive..." Magpie pondered.
Seated side-by-side, Raven and Sparrow kept to themselves in a shroud-like silence. The Aquila leader quietly found enjoyment in her lone drink. Sparrow's eyes shifted with seeming suspicion but none dared to rest on Raven.
"... Don't you think that's a little much?"
Sparrow looked in surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Look around. Everyone's enjoying themselves," Raven replied cooly. "Relax; no need to have your guard up."
"It's not myself that I'm worried about."
Raven turned to her. Beneath her hood and boyish bangs, a sly smile cropped up on her face. "I know."
Sparrow looked away without a response and pretended to be on lookout. She hoped Raven didn't see her blush.
On her end of the long table, Tanager slouched as she entertained herself with the banal swirling of her wine. She watched the liquid spin within the tight confines of quality glass, so delectable yet engrossing as blood. It churned like her thoughts and desires.
Such succulent taste - it felt like victory.
"Care for a taste yourself, Herne?"
The destroyer by her side looked at the beverage with hesitant caution. "E-er, no thanks! I… I'm not particularly fond of the aftertaste."
Tanager lightly chuckled, feigning disappointment. "A shame. Such intoxicating beverage yet associated with maturity and status. Like brotherhood, it is as thick as blood. It stains deeply yet it remains coveted for nothing other than what it stands for."
Herne stared at her as Tanager remained fixated on her drink. But then she downed it all in a gulp, her introspection vanished along with it.
"But no matter! This luxury will be but one of many we indulge ourselves in for the triumph to come! Together, we of the Aegir Fleet are unbeatable! Even against a unified coalition they fear us, our strength against the tides and artistry of battle."
("I think we already heard something like this already..." Herne privately muttered.)
As she found herself nothing to do than to sip her drink, Herne looked beside Tanager where Geofon stood straight as a pole. True to her nature, she even refrained from the festivities, settling instead with a rigid posture. Where her eyes lay was anyone's guess - through narrow slits they stared, sometimes at nothing, sometimes at noticeable activity, sometimes even directly at Herne.
And, on rare occasions, Herne caught her shooting furtive glances at Tanager.
Mischievous inspiration struck Herne. "Hey Geofon. Didn't you have something to tell Tanager?"
This elicited no response save for a sharp glare from the carrier. Piqued by this, Tanager turned to her advisor. She said nothing but her demand was deafening. With this, Geofon quickly conceded.
She did in fact had something to ask.
"My liege, is this really a wise decision?"
With a scoff, Tanager laid her glass down. Even in the din of the banquet and muffled on the creaseless features of the tablecloth, it rang with unmistakable clarity in the ears of those within the inner circle.
"... We hold the cards here, Geofon. Our foes claim to resist us yet they've resorted to nibbling at our flanks whereas we gather to deliver the killing blow. There is little they can do to avert their fate."
Geofon burrowed her frow, unconvinced. "They are aware of us - our strength. It would be pragmatic to assume they would adapt accordingly."
"Oh do have a sense of pride and confidence," snorted the battleship. "You speak as though it is us who are on the back foot. Recall that we hold the upper hand, that we enjoy the luxuries of advantages; it is they who have the burden of adaptation. Why should we concern ourselves with a change in strategy when it is thanks to it that they are at our mercy?"
"And what of our defenses?" Geofon pressed.
"We have our automated early warning system which will unveil any attempt of an attack. Meanwhile, we have those mass-produced ships at our beck and call to protect our assets elsewhere. The Key remains firmly in Beowulf π and v's hands as they always have. They know the depth of its inner workings to carry our will across the continent. Their numbers alone could smother our foes on their deathbed - our combined strength and drive would lead to the same conclusion."
"It is a confirmed behavior that those desperate enough will resort to equally desperate methods-"
"Then they will be undone by their foolish maneuver. A desperate move is quite often an illogical one."
"But that does not rule out a potential-"
In a flash, a hand shot out and snatched the carrier by the neckline, reeling her in until she was face-to-face with her master. But where it twinkled with a hint of darkness, Tanager's face was now clearly seized with anger.
This time, her voice hissed through clenched teeth, barely above a whisper but rife with a dangerous volume. "Heed my words, carrier! You may be a respectable strategist, but know that you swore loyalty to me and the Kingdom! You serve not only the Kingdom's will but mine as well. The heart and head cannot exist without the other. What I do, I do for the Kingdom; and what the Kingdom desires, so too shall it be my desire. Don't you see? I am the Rose Kingdom. You belong to me and my command.
"Remember my words. Question your loyalty again at your own peril."
Gazes met at the knife's edge of silence. "... Understood, my liege."
Exhaling, Tanager let go as she slipped back to her throne. Glancing aside, she was relieved that none - save for Herne - had taken notice.
Tanager let the merry air simmer down her emotions. Like her loyal destroyer conspicuously averting glances she buried the episode under pretense. To allow her confidence to be doubted would be inconceivable.
She peered down again at her wine glass. Again it swirled as she let herself be sucked in with engrossed eyes. Almost like a whirlpool, it drowned her…
It was at that moment a distant rumble shook her back to reality.
A muffled report yet it drowned out everything, rendering all in muted silence. Tanager whirled around. In the grand blue sea of the open harbor, an orange fireball rested on the horizon. An open flame that drew her horrified eyes like moths.
Then another explosion. Black smoke began to fill the air. The distinct shapes of aircraft flew overhead.
She turned back to her fleet. With slacked jaws they stared. Their blank faces spoke of disbelief.
But this was reality and Tanager had to remind them of it.
"... Are we blind?!" she screeched. "Deploy for combat! MOVE!"
The acrid smell of smoke. The deafening roar of explosions and engines. The sounds of war that characterized its personality.
Yet, they rang differently to the allied ships as they and their planes plunged into the harbor.
"Bombs away!" With an echoing click, a single Phantom lurched up, its elevation augmented by the sudden loss in weight. Below, a sleek but bulbous dart whistled through the air as gravity guided it to its explosive terminus.
Fort Grace nodded in approval. "Enemy facility destroyed!"
As her Phantoms zipped past, the others followed suit in similar dives. Swooping like hawks of war, their missiles and bombs bristled like talons as they pounced upon the vulnerable earth.
From the perspective of their planes, the earth below burned as their ordnance hit their marks. In a developed port such as this commandeered by their enemy, there was nary a thing that wasn't a target. What had once been warehouses that seen years of history and service converted to storage dumps for ammunition and fuel stockpiles now became raging infernos.
"Hell yeah!" Vulture cheered. "Burn, baby burn!"
Buzzard shot a look at her sibling before glancing at Kestrel. The youngest sister looked conflicted yet said nothing. No rebuke but at the same time no objection. No matter how distasteful war was, they still had a job to do.
Speaking of which…
Buzzard scanned her surroundings. Maps of Comberth have been reviewed beforehand yet as thorough as it was she was in awe at how far the Rose Kingdom went in annexing the port. The many pillars of smoke that dotted the skies revealed the sheer abundance of their stockpiled supplies. Their enemies remained absent in their defense but to Buzzard it was only more good news.
Everything the enemy held dear - material, refuge, and dreams - was to burn on this day.
The Aegir Fleet was the jewel of the Rose Kingdom's navy. Their reputation was earned from their many victories, and in turn their victories stemmed from the discipline of its soldiers.
But for what was a first in many years, the Aegir Fleet was anything but disciplined.
"What's going on?!"
"Does this look like a drill?! C'mon move!"
"How many are there?!"
"Hey! Hey! Let's go let's go!"
With all haste the destroyers stormed out. But like all things done in haste they tumbled out. Confusion hung in the air just as much as the cacophony of the bombs.
Herne emerged from her peers as she nudged her way past, the sight of the attack stopping her cold. Looking up, she witnessed the specks circling above, in numbers that she had scarcely seen before. Agitated, she turned to the others.
The destroyer closest to her became the first victim as she shoved her out onto the harbor sea. "Well?! What're we waiting for, let's go!"
Spurred, the Aegir destroyers all spilled onto the waters, their riggings equipped and ready for battle. But whether they were prepared for one was a question they had no time to address as they immediately moved ahead with assumed directives and inferred plans.
Following suit at the rear, Herne brought up her rifle and began to sight for targets.
Even without the scope, she didn't take long to find where they were.
"Heads-up. Enemy destroyers headed our way to intercept."
Fort Grace looked up at Buzzard's report. She shifted her gaze, her planes following closely after. The news was nothing unexpected - she had in fact anticipated it. "Understood. Buzzard, Ark Royal, and I will delay them. The rest of you maintain the mission: our priority remains on destroying the harbor as much as we can!"
New orders given and acknowledgements received, Fort Grace dashed ahead as the others fell in by her side. In the mouth of the harbor, she spotted new activity - movement. Where the land burned, figures stood on the blue waves, their direction evident.
The carrier quickly checked her watch and noted the time. 'T+2 minutes. That's within our predictions.'
In unison, Fort Grace and Buzzard directed their respective planes forward, sending Phantoms and Hornets zipping ahead to meet the defenders. A swarm of planes bred a swarm of missiles in their opening salvo, filling the skies with streaks of white.
Seeing the threat, the Kingdom destroyers all reacted. Some opened up with CIWS while others turned to their inherent speed as they turned to evade. But for those that stood their ground the weight of the attack sent them reeling.
Sensing weakness, the two carriers accelerated, turning their attack from a hammer into a spearpoint. They zipped through the destroyers, their curious charge eliciting surprised yelps.
Witnessing the stunt, Herne glared at her peers. "What're you guys even doing?!"
"Trying to do our job," Kolga bluntly answered.
"Sink me! They be a real thorn in our sides now that those scalawags are behind us!"
"After them! After them! Let's go!"
Herne rolled her eyes as she sighed. "Fine. Fenris, Beluga; follow me. Let's get those two! The rest of you bozos go after all the-"
Suddenly, the destroyers found themselves in a shower of bombs. Without the telltale scream of jet engines to warn them, they were all caught off-guard. In their surprise, the ships stumbled and tripped: over themselves, over nothing, or even over each other in their disarray.
Coughing and yapping from the attack, Herne quickly looked around. "What the-?! What was that?!"
"My, I take it you didn't enjoy the taste of my Swordfish attack?"
All eyes turned at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, instantly recognizing a figure unlike their own. Striding tall, she was no destroyer or cruiser as her rigging and rifle-like contraption was festooned with pipes and arcane gears. Strange biplanes hovered beside her, their appearance baffling but in clear provocation.
"Of course, it doesn't help that my planes, as boorish as they may be in this world, would be the perfect thing to slip under your noses."
Herne's face contorted in shock as she recognized their new adversary. "Y-you?!"
A sly smile crept across Ark Royal's face. "But you know… It is rather remarkable how even in different worlds, destroyer girls are always the most adorable! So slim, short… I just can't help but want to cuddle them!"
Suddenly, her eyes began to shine and somehow, all of the destroyers felt her shadow envelop them as her aura became to tower over them.
"... So young, with their soft skin… smooth as an infant's!... Their bubbly cheeks are such treasures to die for!... Destroyers. Are just… The CUTEST!"
For the first time in many years, not only was the destroyer arm of the Aegir Fleet anything but disciplined - it was the first time in years that they fled in horror from their enemy, their screams echoing in their wake as she chased after them.
"Fort Grace to allied ships: enemy destroyers suppressed! Continue with the operation!"
Looping back around towards the rest of her comrades, Fort Grace sent her planes on anything she saw that wasn't already in flames. Likewise, she could hear the others do the same. Everywhere, the distant rumbling of jet engines was present with the beats of bombs that rang like a rhythm. No sirens wailed for the methodical destruction that reigned.
"Vulture, can you handle the facilities on my two 'o clock?"
"Righto. I got the juicy bits!"
"Heh. Juicy? Don't mind if I help to some myself!"
"Sorry, White Valley, but not a chance! I'm gonna gobble up all the high-value targets!"
"Keep chirping little chick! Just watch me!"
Spurred by competition, White Valley sped away; whether anyone tried to stop her, she didn't hear. She sailed at breakneck speeds, her own planes barely keeping up in her quest for personal glory. The carrier looked around but could find no clue for orientation. Left with only pillars of smoke as her landmarks, White Valley's eyes were hungry for a fresh target.
Wandering ahead, she discovered an untainted region of Comberth, disguised among the billowing smoke but she could see no fires licking the facilities. White Valley's gaze feasted on the sight before it rested on a block-like building, nondescript save for its medieval appearance and size that gave it a commanding aura.
Smiling wide, she motioned for her birds to descend upon it, droves of white that was anything but divine. Her fighters held firm in their dive, their noses indicating their aim.
"Come on baby, mommy needs a bulls-eye!"
The view outside was worse than Tanager had expected. What was once their domain of order and assurance had become twisted into a realm of gunfire and smoke. Even from within the great hall the air could not compensate for the mood she witnessed. Her fleet had sortied for combat but she scowled, quietly cursing at their efforts.
She turned to Geofon who had dutifully remained by her side. Their gazes met and although the carrier exuded no hint of emotion on her face, the two knew what what was said.
Though she had not uttered a commandment, Tanager saw as Raven and her Aquila Vanguard swiftly vacate the premise without a word. To this, Tanager gave nothing but her tacit approval - she was in no mood to state obvious orders.
She turned her attention back to the view of the battle. Though far away she felt heat from the flames. It boiled within her like a kettle as she watched and assessed.
Behind her, Geofon too observed the spectacle. Even Tanager was unsure what churned within her advisor as her eyes shone without a spark. "... Their air assault was not without careful preparation. They have planned and coordinated such strike for days. The failure of our early-warning system shows that they are if not meticulous."
Tanager tore her eyes from the windows and began marching off. "... I've seen enough. The time has come for us to take to the field."
Geofon said nothing as she turned to follow. But as she did, she paused. Her senses instantly suspected something as she heard it.
A faint whistling…
"My liege, brace for impact. Now."
"What the hell are you -"
An earth shattering roar and the world snapped to muted black.
Outside, White Valley laughed as her target instantly flattened, crumpling like a house of cards under the weight of a sledgehammer. No secondary explosion indicated a valuable cache of resources, but whatever; what's a little collateral damage here and there? She half-hoped that the Rose Kingdom wasn't intending to use the building for anything special.
Without turning back, the carrier sped off. She had more bombs to drop and she intended to make good use of them.
Raven wasted no time sprinting in the open, paying no heed to the cacophony that shook her very core behind her. A sharp gust of hot wind swept over her but she spared no time in a reply. After spending - no, wasting - the opening shots by her queen's side, there simply was no time.
She leapt off the harbor, her rigging formed and ready for combat before she hit the sea. "Aquilas, form up!"
"Sparrow: on your six!"
"Magpie right behind you!"
"Finch ready to jam!"
"Condor here. Don't do anything rash now my darlings!"
Raven glanced up at the roar of jet engines, her body instinctively swerving to dodge though no attack came. Following the sound, she watched the myriad of shapes buzz in the air like locusts. The very skies seemed to come alive with their presence.
"Identify enemy aircraft."
"I'm seeing Phantoms, Tomcats, Eagles, Flankers, Rafales, Hornets, and those weird biplane things," Magpie reported. "This is one heck of an all-out air assault! All their carriers must be here!"
Missile impacts boomed in the distance, the air attack vigorous upon the vulnerable harbor. Pillars of smoke began to build from both up close and from afar. It was as if the entire harbor was on fire.
Raven wasted no time dishing out orders. "Split up: we need to cover as much ground as we can. Condor, Finch, you're with Magpie. Sparrow, with me. Target the carriers."
A series of curt affirmatives rang out as the Vanguard went to work.
As the allied fleet continued their raid of the harbor, the radio waves continued buzzing with activity. Calls of intent, reports of success, friendly banter, and even scathing ribbing filled the air as Fort Grace listened.
"Another facility down!"
"Wooo-wee! Got one!"
"Vulture, don't spit out too far. Keep in formation."
"Hey! Find your own targets you git!"
"White Valley's Ace Seminar 101: you gotta be greedy!"
But among the voices, one stood out in particular as she kept note of this ship's location.
"Hehehe… Come here darlings~~!"
Fort Grace's eyes narrowed as she heard what was unmistakably Ark Royal's voice among faint terrified shrieks in the background. She had kept the destroyers at bay as part of the attack plan and the results were speaking for themselves. Yet she found it hard to believe that such fine-looking ship could be so… immodest.
'I know she has her own uses… But I may have to keep a close watch on her from now on. Who knows what trouble she could get into...'
"Come now. Come close and I'll give you special treatment! Heh… heh… Don't be shy-OUGH!"
Startled, Fort Grace looked at her radio. The sudden cry had ripped her focus towards it as she strained her ears.
"What the-?!... Ugh!"
"Ark Royal, status!"
The carrier's voice came through, suddenly strained. "Under attack!... Two, no three, ships!... They're matching me movement for movement but-"
The channel suddenly tore itself from the sound of an explosion. Hushed static filled the waves in lieu of the long silence. "Ark Royal, respond!"
Without waiting for a reply, Fort Grace quickly looked at her radar. Having anticipated the worst, she was relived to see that the Royal carrier continued to live as a blip on her display. But just as quickly as it came, her relief deflated as her eyes caught the contacts located near Ark Royal's location, now making a beeline towards the allied fleet.
"Warning! Enemy cruisers in the field! It's the Aquila Vanguard!"
All heads looked up at the warning. Sensing the danger, Buzzard jumped at the initiative. "Vulture, Kestrel, on me. We need to intercept the Vanguard before they can stop our attack!"
The three Federation carriers fell in in short order. Turning in unison, the sisters peeled away from the land, rushing instead towards the sea in search of their enemy. But it did not take long before alerts were issued.
"Aegis cruisers at our 1 'o clock! Confirmed Raven and Sparrow!"
Missile alerts blared as the three fanned out, the enemy fire streaking past right after without a moment's pause. The enemy cruisers swerved to the side, as if to circle their quarry.
With a glare, Buzzard's eye followed their every movement. She mirrored the motion of their enemies, keeping pace and keeping distance. Her Hornets followed close behind at the ready. "Surround them! Don't let them get away!"
With the wave of her hand, the jets turned with a lurch, their noses and missiles sharp like arrows as they hurtled towards the cruisers. Aware of the threat, the two Aquilas changed their movements, moving instead towards the planes.
"Missiles away!" By her command, the planes opened fire. Raven and Sparrow responded with increased speed, slipping through the barrage with daring choreography. But their heading was not deterred. Wide-eyed, Buzzard knew what it meant.
Her alert went off, already eliciting a droning buzz. By the time she reacted, it was already too late.
"Buzzard!"
"Aw hell. You still with us, sis?"
The carrier waved off her sisters' concerns with a grimace. "It's fine. Damage is acceptable." She paused to look at her rigging's wound: two scorched holes, neatly side-by-side. A black mark on herself in more ways than one. Privately she cringed at the thought that she let herself be damaged so easily…
Shouts and alerts yanked her back as she looked to see another volley of missiles. A belch of her point-defense put an abrupt end to their journey as she and her sisters leapt back into the fray.
With Raven at the head, the Aquila cruisers sped with all haste oblique to the carriers' approach. Cutting a wide swath, they enticed their enemies in a chase.
Forming the rearguard, Sparrow spied the carriers as they and fanned out in an enveloping maneuver. It was time to respond. "They're trying to herd us."
Raven barely turned her head but could see the same thing. "Affirmative. Sparrow?"
Her wingman nodded and without another word, the pair promptly swerved in a tight turn, now facing their pursuers as they shot forward. Surprised faces from the carriers met them as they charged, their IFF confirming missile locks from both directions.
"Missiles away!" Streaks of white criss-crossed from both directions. The storm of missiles provoked instinctive reflex from the three carriers and their planes but not from Raven. Through the hissing clouds the Vanguard snaked their way past their foes, their dissolving formation a boon as they broke off.
Whether she could hear the sounds of impact, Raven wasn't certain. But this was far from finished, she knew. The proud carriers of the Silver Star Federation would not be so easily humbled by their blows, even from that surprise move.
"Ready for another pass."
"I'm right behind you. Let's- Missile!"
Raven looked to see a projectile rocketing from an unexpected angle. "Sparrow, break! Break!"
*Boom!*
Raven grunted as she felt the impact. But when she opened her eyes, she felt no pain, saw no kindled wound upon herself. But where she saw no injury, she instead saw a familiar figure in her arms, a worse realization dawned.
"Sparrow!"
"I'm fine..." her comrade reported. Her rigging's once untouched exterior now bore the mark of a blow meant for Raven. But there was no time to express concerns when her alert trilled again.
"Evasive maneuvers! We're breaking off!" Raven ordered, her composure seizing control of her tone. The pair injected erraticness in their movements, peeling off from their course as their heads swiveled for the source of the attacks.
There. Ahead of them Raven made out the silhouettes of more shapes - figures. But they were not the ones they had fought earlier. Why had the entire allied fleet reconvened at their location?
As she looked around her, the somber answer dawned on Raven.
For a moment, there was now a lull. Gone were the sounds of distant bombs or engines. For a moment, it was as if the war had ended.
And as if it had, Raven watched as the distant shapes in the sky drift by, their sharp angles no longer aimed towards them as they migrated in relaxed formations. Likewise, their masters moved with them as they departed in a hushed manner, disappearing from view among the haze.
And yet the two watched, any expectations of attack having vanished. There was a lull as if the war had ended, and Raven chose to respect it.
Raven said not a word as she watched. Sparrow said nothing, but her gaze and thoughts rested elsewhere.
Soon, the sounds of approaching figures were heard behind her. "Aww hell… Hey Raven, what's the game plan? We're here and ready to roll on your go."
The Vanguard leader sighed. "Let them go. The battle's over. They accomplished what they came for. Magpie?"
Though stunned by the news, the hooded ship dutifully gave her report. "All destroyers recovered and accounted for; most got damaged but no serious casualties. Whoever that carrier was got towed away when they withdrew. But that's not even the worst news..."
Finch and Magpie found themselves brushed aside as Condor stepped through. "Sparrow! Are you alright?"
As if ashamed, Sparrow shrunk from Condor's concern. "I'm fine, Condor. It's just minor damage. But the harbor..."
But even as she said it, Sparrow didn't believe her own words. The pain, like the blemish on her hull, was hard to conceal or quell as she reflected.
If only that missile hadn't caught them off-guard… If only she had been more attentive... If only her blunder had not dissuaded Raven then maybe the harbor…
She was almost thankful for Raven breaking the somber silence. "Aquilas, we're done here. There's nothing we can do now."
"Whooooh-wee! Now that was fun!"
"Damn straight! I must've lost track of how many I got!"
"Ahem. You only got nine; I was keeping track."
"Heh… Those destroyer girls… heh-heh..."
Although hesitant to join them, Kestrel couldn't help but smile; their cheers were infectious.
Though the battle had been long and not without risks, jubilant faces governed the mood as the allied fleet sailed from the operation. Although rare, she had seen this familiar scene play out in battles in her past. The standing ovation of every daring operation that had demanded the utmost performance of all actors involved. Yet despite the hurdles, all delivered without shameful regret. Yes, Kestrel knew what this sight - this feeling - was.
It was the grand encore of victory.
She thought back to her initial concerns, her fears earlier today. Today had been the day the path of the war would be judged - a divide to determine the fates. She had sensed its perils.
But she counted. Even with damages, Kestrel could see with her own eyes seven ships. Seven ships that had once sailed towards war now seven ships all returning home.
Kestrel knew how she felt but she thought how she could express those feelings. To celebrate the occasion with those she fought alongside…
"Outstanding show, everyone!" Fort Grace commended. "Thanks to all of you, Operation: Rough Seas was a success. We've shown the Aegir Fleet that they're not as invincible as they thought they were and we've no doubt sent them reeling! This might even be the turning point of the war; the beginning of the end. Let's keep at it and we'll soon see the end of the war!"
Cheers roared again, the fires of liberation fanned even brighter.
And then Fort Grace began to chant. And then, one by one the ships of the Delta Coalition joined in. Kestrel looked up at the forming chorus. Like them, it was imperfect and informal yet it did not trouble them; if anything, it reinforced the bonds of their alliance. Though of different backgrounds they all fought with the same motive.
A hymn of unity. Kestrel recognized it as an anthem native of this continent.
Closing her eyes, she let the song flow through her. Her feelings were now one with theirs: an expression of victory.
O'er azure skies and emerald plains
Where freedom and justice prevail
With courage and strength we'll fight to the end
For liberty in our land
- Usean National Anthem, "Hymn of Liberty"
The image that greeted Tanager when she came to was more catastrophic than she had ever imagined.
The once finely-crafted frames of the banquet hall had disintegrated, leaving behind only a gaping wound where the ceiling once was. Beside her, Geofon and the Beowulves diligently unearthed Tanager from the wreckage. "... I recommend a more sound structure for future gatherings, my liege."
With a loud growl, Tanager shot up to her feet, rejecting debris and helpful hands alike. Now on her feet, the meaning she saw was appalling in its details: docks drowned in flames, their storehouses flattened in smoke, a burning refuse that was once the harbor and its facilities. Comberth: their harbor, their base, their landmark of impending victory - now cinders and ash.
This was Comberth Harbor's true form.
Geofon surveyed the scene with disappointed eyes, her composure unbroken despite being marred head to toe with soot and dust. "We must assess the damage and salvage what assets we have left. Comberth Harbor is compromised and would no longer be of use to our fleet. There are secondary locations available to us-"
Further advice was interrupted by a sudden outburst. Kicking and yelling, her queen succumbed to her rage as she desecrated the ruins in a fit of anger. Shrill and loud, it echoed throughout the harbor, her voice carrying in the wind as if to chase her long-gone enemies.
As much as she could deny it, the situation before her eyes was the truth. But the truth was unacceptable.
"RRRRRRRAAUGGHH!" she screamed, punting a cinderblock. "YOU BASTARDS! YOU SCUM!"
Steaming with fury, she marched ahead, finding herself in what was once the banquet table. The great ornate wooden table buckled and cracked and the regale that was laid in orderly fashion atop it became a gory mess of food wastes. Beneath it all, stained and torn in its mess, was the ivory cloth.
With a roar, she kicked the table. "Damn bastards ruined it! Don't you see?! Our celebratory feast… our ritual of victory… I had it all prepared. But here the Delta Coalition and insufferable accomplices… They walked all over with it their filthy foul boots! OVER THE CRISP WHITE SHEETS OF THE BANQUET THAT I HAD JUST PREPARED!"
Repeatedly she kicked it, each blow grinding the furniture until nothing remained but splinters.
Dissatisfied, Tanager looked around wide-eyed. Whether she shook with anger or madness, it was difficult to discern. Her breaths now came in ragged gasps yet her body refused to submit to exhaustion.
The fire that swept Comberth Harbor was nothing compared to the fire that burned within her very soul.
It burned like a raging inferno, alight with desires and held alive with her drive. Power was her inspiration and conquest was her passion. Once tasted, it could never be forgotten. The path to Hell was irreversible and soon the fire would claim everything.
But not before she intend to have it consume her adversaries first.
Eventually her mood simmered, her temper cooling as she regained control. But her heart continued to burn brightly as a beacon for her next move.
"... Geofon, prepare our secondary location. This war is far from over…
"... And neither is our fleet."
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
HistoricHippos:
Many apologies for keeping you guys waiting. A mix of personal stuff, other interests, and writer's block all built to make this chapter's development take far longer than anticipated (particularly with rewrites and battle scenes). But eventually all things must be finished, even if it may not be perfect. Regardless, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter and hopefully I'll be back into the swing of things from this point on. There's still a lot more to this crossover that I wish to show and share as we've yet to see some of the good stuff.