Location: Anchorhead Bay
Barreling down the corridor, in a brisk but dignified pace, a figure in blue silk robe hurried. Manners inhibited her pace, not helped by the white frilly dress she wore, billowing up and down around her ankles. And though shadowed by the hood of her robes and her own brunette hair, a sense of worry was clearly written on her visage.
"Oh dearie me, I'm going to be late…!"
Rose Kingdom Aegis Cruiser
THALASSA
She finally reached the door of her appointed destination and quickly entered inside. Thalassa glanced up, surprise briefly exchanged between her and what little were inside before the feeling quickly wore off, and those waiting within rose up in recognition.
"Oh there you are," one began. "We were wondering where you were."
"I apologise," Thalassa replied. The ship that greeted her was one of her own, someone she knew closely. A member of the Rán Fleet but more than just a mere fighter. Her wooden sandals, carried sceptre, and chalk-colored toga, although of antiquated tastes, was a familiar anchor guardianship; a reassuring sight that stood out, like an angel of the battlefield.
"I hope my delay was not too troublesome?"
"Not at all," she replied, brushing back her long light-brown hair that shone like silk with her bangs covering the right side of her face no matter what she tried. "Everything is steadily coming together despite the sudden deployment order. That is, if you ignore someone misplacing a crate of jet fuel in the cleaning cabinet, the delivery of spare parts, tools, and tools to make spare parts being behind schedule, and Aphaiah being… somewhere. But the good news is, everyone seems to be in good health, save for my slight migraine from overseeing all of this in your absence."
A rather sarcastic angel of the battlefield.
Rose Kingdom Aegis Cruiser
EIRENE
Thalassa let out a sportive sigh at her fellow ship/nurse's report. "So it was that inconvenient. Unfortunately, there was not much we can do. The order for deployment was… awfully sudden and unexpected."
Eirene nodded. "That reminds me, where is Dysnomia? No one has seen her around harbor."
Thalassa sighed again, but this time it was not one of good news. "I had last seen of Dysnomia on the day she issued the order for all of the Rán Fleet to mobilize. But since then, I had not seen her either. But before she disappeared, Dysnomia mentioned something about 'her secret mission', a 'gamble', and that we are to organize the Fleet in her stead."
The toga-clad nurse frowned. "I had hoped that the fleet leader would not have run off from important matters."
"Perhaps this 'secret mission' is a more important matter than even the deployment of the Rán Fleet..."
Thalassa and Eirene turned to the other figure in the room, quiet up until now. Sitting off to the side, this particular ship sat with seeming detachment from the rest. If Eirene was like the sun with the holy white of her attire, then this ship was like the night with her abundance of dark colors of her frilled dress. Yet with her white boyish hair, unusually pale skin, and white stockings, she was a contradiction of her own; a visual yin-yang. She sat upright, facing away from the conversation. But it was not because her gaze did not wish to meet those of Thalass or Eirene - rather, her sense of sight had simply been smothered by a thick black blindfold.
Rose Kingdom Destroyer
EUNOMIA
Eunomia continued. Her eyes were hidden but both Thalass and Eirene could tell that her gaze was upon them regardless. "The sudden deployment of the entire Rán Fleet is unprecedented, but so is Dysnomia's absence in this crucial moment. Nonetheless, this means she has left us for a reason - perhaps one she could not ignore. But recall that she had left behind specific orders - this suggests that she has made contingencies and has not abandoned us. She will return and when she does, everything will be revealed."
Thalassa nodded in acceptance. Impartial: just as how she expected of Eunomia.
"Well, this is the Rán Fleet's 3rd Division accounted for." Thalass paused as she looked at her fellow Division members, the only ships present in the room. "Where are the others? With Dysnomia not here, we need to get 1st Division organized."
Eirene quietly groaned, as if remembering something unpleasant. "About them..."
The trio walked out to the coast. Anchorhead Bay stretched across the horizon behind them, fields of cranes sat hunched over against the backdrop of towers of commerce and business dotting the skyline like spires of yore. The distance from which many of the block-like buildings dominated the horizon bespoke of Anchorhead's shared authority, between the beating heart of the port and the many other industries that sat away, their vital importance implied but assumed. Anchorhead Bay was more than just a harbor, it was a thriving metropolis.
And more than just a bustling city, it was the appointed rally point for the budding Rán Fleet.
The cool winds of the sea curled over them as they walked at the edge of the harbor, the vestige of land between the world of land and the vast world of the ocean. Between the world between worlds, Thalassa led the way until, on the rocks overlapping the water, she spotted them.
"There's one," Eirene pointed out.
As Thalassa and Eirene approached (uneasy ground and blindfolds proved rather treacherous for Eunomia), the figure before them continued to have her back to them in silence, her long flowing robe and wide-brimmed hat concealing her features save for long purple hair capped with a bow at the end. She faced the sea, seemingly unaware of the approaching visitors even as they came close. Sharing an unsure look with Eirene, Thalassa opened her mouth to break the awkward silence until the figure spoke first.
"An omen harkens from the fathom blue. Do you hear it?"
Before the two could react, the figure continued, her tone oddly calm. "They told me. They hide in the clouds overhead so their mail delivery was expedient. But their downstair neighbors aren't happy that it's nighttime because that put their chia pets to sleep. They're lethargic enough as it is. Also, there's a rebellious sea urchin lurking around the sunset docks."
An errant gust blew and the figure reacted, catching her hat in time. She turned, her composure shattered as she wiped her purple and green mismatched eyes of dust. "... Shoot. That sea urchin must have anticipated this. They don't enjoy people talking behind their backs after all."
Rose Kingdom Aegis Cruiser
METIS
Eirene could only exhale with exasperation. "Well, that's Metis accounted for."
"I don't think I've encountered any abacus that can handle decimals and fractions," Metis replied. "But enough of that. Any and all mention of the rebellious sea urchin (including this one) must be forbidden lest he or his kin come for us. I may not know their methods but I do know that none have lived to tell the tale. They are well-acquainted with all sorts of assassins, hitmen, and babysitters. They're paid in advance with vegetable oil because of how useful they are."
Eirene buried her face in the palm of her hand while Thalassa was thankful for how useful her draping bangs were at concealing her mirthful face. The nurse spared herself from further grief as she returned to business at hand.
"Where are the others? They better not be too far off..."
Suddenly, as if on cue, the two cruisers felt a breeze on their back, swift like a knife - a presence very close behind them. The pair jumped, whirling around only to be greeted by the sight of another ship tied and bound, sturdy ropes restraining their unruly victim. And prostrated in front of it was another person, kneeling before the two.
"There will be no need. We are closer than you expect," she quietly reported, her voice barely muffled by the bandana she wore, emblazoned with the same singular color that defined her ninja-like outfit and her boyish short hair: dark red. Camouflaged in nothing but implied intent. Only the colored beads on her hair and the earrings she wore betrayed the theme but did not obfuscate the meaning behind her appearance.
Rose Kingdom Destroyer
CALYPSO
"Udaloy II-class destroyer Calypso reporting," she introduced herself.
"Oh good," Thalass smiled once the initial shock wore off (where the destroyer had appeared from she conceded would be a complete mystery). But it was not long before her and Eirene's focus shifted to the ship tied up behind her. Beneath the layer of rope, her choice of attire - a short bearskin vest - could be seen, and from it the prevalence of bare skin exposed her scant fashion sense, the only reprieve being the bandage-like wrapping around her chest, a small courtesy her onlookers were thankful for. The captive wiggled and thrash in her bonds to no avail but was not dissuaded, her long unkempt maroon hair and even a pair of curly horns atop her head bringing attention to this ship's identity.
"Argh! Damnit Calypso! I could've gone skinny-dipping when I had the chance! Rrrr, lemme go or I'm gonna shove this rope so far up yours that I'll wring you like a floss!"
Rose Kingdom Aegis Cruiser
CETO
"... And then I'll use your skinny little butt as a jump-rope!"
"Forgive our indiscretion," Calypso said, rising to her feet. "I saw her restraint as a necessity in maintaining the peace. But give the order, and I will make that peace permanent."
"Nope! That won't be necessary!" Eirene hastily interrupted, clamping down on Calypso's shoulders. "It's been a busy week and I frankly don't feel like filling out a eulogy on top of that, thank you very much!"
"Yeah, you musn't!" cut in Metis, joining Eirene's side. "If you follow through then tonight's encore with Mr. Buffet II will have to be canceled and he doesn't take refunds!"
Finding herself sandwiched between the three ships, Eirene let out an exasperated groan. Thalassa allowed herself a small smile. "Well, that's others of the Rán Fleet accounted for."
"Speaking of accounted for, where's Enyo and her 2nd Division?" Eirene questioned, her expression souring as she looked at the ships around her. "Overseeing the fleet was supposed to be a their responsibility as well, so where are they?"
"If I know them, then they won't be too far," Thalassa answered. Again the small smile: a sense of confidence. "Come along now, everyone. We're nearly done with all the preparations." Taking the initiative, she began to walk off. Calypso followed her with diligence, dragging the still-captive and bickering Ceto behind her. Eirene was almost too glad to go someplace else but before she could take another step, she paused. She turned back to see Metis, her attention fixed back to the sea that stretched to the infinite horizons.
"Metis? Are you coming or not?"
"But the omen! Don't you hear it-?"
The nurse grabbed Metis by the hand and started dragging her away. "Come on. We can't have you wondering off from the fleet again. Freaking space cadet..."
As she towed her away, the sea became ignored. Their backs turned to the sea they would soon fight in - the oceans that led to the war that remained brewing. Out here in Anchorhead far from the front, it was a peaceful affair, the conflict relegated in the background and in the backs of peoples' minds. The war had yet to reach them, and the Rán Fleet had been resting and building for several quiet days.
As far as they were concerned, nothing bad was headed their way.
Far off in the sea, something bad was indeed headed their way.
"When can we can take 'em on already? I'm starting to get tired of this."
"Pipe down, Vulture. We're only halfway there."
"Ugh. What a pain in the ass..." the tomboy carrier muttered quietly.
Kestrel kept quiet, her silence an implicit sign of her concentration as she and her sisters steered to and fro, left to right and right to left. Out in the open plains of twinkling blue, their motions made for little sense to outside observers. But what they did not see was also the motives behind their curious movement.
"Andromeda to carriers, you've made it past the third checkpoint! Comms traffic holding flat, so you're still in the clear."
Buzzard nodded, keeping in tight formation with her sisters. "As thick the radar network is, the gaps they left in it is quite astounding. This Rán Fleet is far more careless than I thought."
"Well they weren't dumb enough to just roll out the red carpet for us," Vulture remarked.
"Quite," replied Buzzard. "But if intel is right, then the Rán Fleet shouldn't be too much of a challenge compared to the Aegir Fleet. They've been mobilizing for days and it's only just today that they're nearing completion. Remember the mission: we're here to deliver a crucial surprise attack regardless of how much of a threat they will be."
A swerve to the right at Kestrel's beckoning. Then to the left. Like a flock of birds, they moved in unison. Where the Rose Kingdom ships had situated their radar fields, they could not see. But where their own naked eyes were insufficient, their own radars made up for it, presenting the sea in a dense patchwork of blood-red dots. The many vigilant eyes of their enemy.
A small but potent chink in their defenses had been detected earlier, but exploiting it… that's what the allied fleet was in the thick of at the moment. The maze that was the radar network would prove to be their first opponent today, one that demanded the strictest care and attention.
But it was a battle that they were steadily winning.
"Past the fourth checkpoint! You're almost there!"
The carriers voiced their acknowledgements. But it was long before another set of voices piped in over the comms. "Hey, are you three like, past through that thing yet?"
"Yeah! Are you all like slow-pokes or something?"
Vulture could only groan audibly. "Oh for-"
Buzzard silenced her sister with a look. "We're nearly there," she answered back over the radio. "ETA three minutes."
"Ugh! I'm like nearly dying of boredom here," Fensalir complained. "Sitting around twiddling our thumbs is sooo boring!"
"Like ohmigosh, why couldn't we just do whatever we want while we're here?" her sister Folkvangr added.
"Because you'd ruin the surprise - the entire point of our operation!" Buzzard argued. "Hold your positions until you get the signal as planned. Buzzard, out." She made sure the line was dead before she threw in a quick "Amateurs..." under her breath.
"Let's stay focused, Buzzard." Rare words uttered by Kestrel who finally spoke. "It isn't like you to get worked up like this."
The elder sister was almost struck back but quickly conceded to Kestrel's point. She shook her head back into focus; now was not to time to lose her head, especially where they were now. It would do them no good to lose the battle before it even began.
Kestrel's bearing nudged a bit to the right, the rest followed in close formation. One eye to their radars, the other on what lied ahead, moving deliberately; like two halves that made up the same coin. A tight bend ahead! They swerved, their tips skirting the boundaries of the invisible circles. Straightened up in the clearing, then ahead - another bend. They turned but right as they had cleared it, a funnel. A sliver passage!
Quickly the trio switched formation, narrowing to single-file. Kestrel kept her gaze glued to her front, honing her concentration to an even finer keen. Given only the narrowest of margins to navigate like tightrope, the carrier fleet shot through with absolute precision. Despite being on the open seas, the knowledge that the radar was all around them made them feel squeezed in. The thread-like path lingered like a snake, where even the slightest misturn would spell failure. This was to be a battle fought not with weapons.
A wide turn. Kestrel lead the way, keeping pace. "Careful..."
The followed the turn. With the secrecy at stake, they dared not to leave even their fingers astray. "Careful..."
"Vulture!"
"Geez, don't scare me like that!"
"Widen your turn!" hissed Buzzard.
"Worry about yourself, man!"
The turn ended and the passage widened but their worries did not. Anxious looks crossed the carriers' features as Andromeda reported back on the radio. "Scanning..."
The three waited with bated breath.
"... No change in signals traffic. You're in the clear!"
The Federation ships would have cheered right then and there but the next bit of news raised their spirits even more.
"You're clear of their radar network, and still on time too! Buzzard, Vulture, Kestrel - proceed with the next stage of the operation.
"You're cleared to engage!"
Back in Anchorhead, a single dorm room sat quiet but occupied. With the curtains drawn, it was alone in its relative secrecy.
Inside, the muted daylight complemented the placid atmosphere. Muffled sunlight, filtered by the curtains, encouraged a lazy mood as evident by one who lay reclined on a couch. Her dark clothes and tattoo-strewn arms blended in the shade and she would have been well-hidden were it not for the abundance of gaps in her outfit showing her bare skin, her unruly spiky dark-red hair, and the fact that she was snoring.
Rose Kingdom Aegis Cruiser
ENYO
*Beep-beep!*
Enyo's brow flickered but she remained fast asleep.
*Beep-beep! Beep-beep!*
A slender phone found itself catapulted into her face, jolting her awake. Abruptly aroused, Enyo was not pleased. "Motherf-!" She stopped herself when her cat-like pupils recognized that the phone was her's, its message intended for her. She accepted the call with a sigh.
"Um, Enyo? Where are-"
"At the dorms, what else?" Enyo answered impatiently.
"But what about-"
"Relax," she chided, waving off Thalassa's concern. "I haven't entirely forgotten about the whole 'forming the fleet' thing. I doubt even Metis would wonder off too far, she's not that dumb. Speaking of which, she still kicking?"
Thalassa gave an unsure response. "Well, she's with us right now. We've been wondering where you were-"
"I get ya. Look, I got my stuff covered. Just give me a minute and we'll be down there with you. Hold the fort, okay?"
"O… Alright," Thalassa replied. "We're assembled in the main building right now, all ships accounted for. We shall wait for your arrival." Then the line went dead.
Deed done, Enyo arose with an invigorating yawn. The hazy air in the room, while warm, was rife with dust that hung in the air, glittering in the sunlight. Stashing away the phone, she turned to its source. She wasn't alone in the room.
"Thanks for the call, I guess..."
"Don't mention it," replied the other, brushing it off nonchalantly. Slouched on a desk chair, her back was firmly to Enyo, her features visible only thanks to the computer screen she often sat behind. Against an LED monitor glaringly bright like sunlight rays, her long black sidetail sticking out from her right side and antenna-like clip that held it together standing out as a stark silhouette. A revealing T-shirt of solid drab color and denim blue short-shorts, along with sleepy eyes that remained glued to the screen behind red bottom-framed glasses, complemented the visual summary of her interests.
Rose Kingdom Aegis Cruiser
ERIS
Eris yawned, quietling mumbling as she curled on her chair. Her foot swung in idle rhythm but it was only her finger where she provided an overt sign of life, giving it an exercise on the scroll wheel as she perused the website she was on.
Enyo leaned close over her shoulder, the computer screen's brightness stabbing into her eyes as she did. "Watcha looking at?"
"Eh, the usual," Eris answered. "Nothing really interesting or new on readdit so far so I jumped ship over at Guundergram. Got a lot of random crap as expected of social media addicts: food pics, vacation pics, selfies… Heh."
"What?"
Eris straightened up in her seat, an idea sparking her engine to life as she brought both hands to the keyboard, hammering away immediately. "Someone's trying to ask for advice on the internet. Oh that sweet summer child… 'What's a good Christmas gift on a budget?' Oh that one's easy. 'Christmas Brick: find a brick, wrap it in bow, scratch your name on it or something, and gift it to someone. It's a gift and the thought counts so they can't reject it.'
"'What's a good trick for cleaning kitchen and bathroom drainage?' Let's see… 'Use spare cooking oil. The oil will clean out the pipes and lubricate them real good.'"
As Eris typed away, Enyo looked amused. "You and your sock-puppet accounts back at work, huh? Well, have fun with that. Just remember we got we got to go meet with Thalassa in about a minute."
"Ugh, so soon?" the young cruiser pouted. "Can't that wait a bit? I just got comfortable catching up on the latest and I still got a backlog of subscribed content that I need to get through. Also, I'm in the middle of Turrenting season nine of Doctor How and once that's done I can get a headstart with season ten."
"That would explain why GrunTube was crapping on me..." Enyo muttered. Crossing the dusky room she began digging through their shared minifridge. "This isn't the first time we've been late so I'll give you about a couple minutes. Then our rears are in gear."
"'Kay, 'kay," Eris nonchalantly replied. The sounds of clicking keys dominated the air as the two settled back down to their doldrums. But it wasn't long until a boom, like a forceful gale, disrupted the moment with its rumble.
Enyo glanced up, annoyed. "Great, what is it now? I swear if it's Ceto..." Grumbling, she trodded to the curtained windows and peeked through. What greeted her was not just the open view of the harbor - at the vestiges, a plume of black smoke rising like a pillar of ink in the sky. It was swiftly accompanied by another.
Telltale whine of jet engines in the air.
Enyo pulled herself from the view, wide awake and alert now. "Hey Eris. Eris!" She turned, only to see her friend unmoved from her seat, a pair of headphones having clamped onto her head sometime ago. Lunging forward, she ripped her friend from her personal bubble. "H-hey! I was just about to earn some readdit Gol-"
She stopped when Enyo threw her in front of the window. She winced at the brightness but saw the view all the same. "Okay, fine! Just let me check on the download progress and then I'll-"
A fist smashed the glass, shattering an opening in one swift blow. Glancing at her division-mate, Eris saw only a wide grin on Enyo's face. "Too late for that! Let's partyyyyy~!"
Eris wasn't one to be afraid of heights, let alone from the third story of their dorm building. But she couldn't help but squeal on the way down.
The busy roar of jet engines. Birds of steel flocked to and fro, their shadows draping the seas and earth in their ceaseless migration. The skies darkened from collecting smoke.
Surprise was achieved, and with no retaliation it was open hunting season.
"Target-rich environment! Go wild before the Fleet mounts a resistance!"
"Wilco," Buzzard acknowledged. "I'll prioritize the facilities that would make up the heart of their operations so-"
"No way you're getting the juicy stuff before me, Buzz!"
Buzzard's hand held her sister back before she could zoom anywhere. "Hey! Maintain element. We might have the drop on them but it's only a matter of time before-"
"Blah-blah-blah! You're like such a downer!" a bratty voice mocked from behind. "Can't like a gal just have fun?"
"Guess that's why you're such a Buzzkill!" her sister agreed. By the time Buzzard could even raised her fist, Fensalir and Folkvangr had disappeared, their hyena-like cackle reverbing from the water.
Vulture chuckled along, earning her a glare from her sister. "What? 'Target-rich environment', remember? You could drop a bomb blind and hit something. Anyways, I'm headed off so ciao!"
Vulture shot off, leaving her older sister behind to sigh. "... Oh to hell with it. Kestrel, you're with me! We'll focus on the Rán Fleet ships."
Her sister nodded. "Understood."
The pair sped off in a different direction. Sounds of distant rumbles shook the harbor, each heralded by missiles singing through the air. Disarray and destruction, yet it was all one-sided. Not once have Buzzard nor Kestrel heard a warning trill. But that was not to last long.
Buzzard's eyes caught something on radar, an outcome she had anticipated. "Heads-up, we have our first-responders. Two cruisers at our 1:30."
The two sisters briskly turned to meet their adversaries. Even among the smoke and fires they were aptly noticeable. Two distant figures, their profiles matching those of aegis cruisers. Except for one that took the lead in the enemy's countercharge.
"C'mon c'mon c'mon!" Enyo hollered. Where many glided with methodology, she instead settled with sprinting like a madwoman, her legs a frenzied pendulum. Now adorned in combat rigging, the only thing that set her apart was the presence of shield pieces that stuck to her side like armored skirts. Although not a blur, the alacrity in which she moved made for an unsubtle image. "Let's get the bread! WOOOO!"
"Chillax, will ya?" complained Eris who lagged behind. Save for the standard-issue rigging, her left arm found itself home to a portable device whom Eris's attention was entirely engrossed to as she lazily thumbed the wide display screen. "I just updated my blog post and I'm expecting responses soon so if you don't mind-"
The loud roar of a passing jet buzzed over her head.
"... Nevermind."
Pointed shapes filled the skies above. The two cruisers knew that their presence had been noted. No sooner had they realized this that missiles began to rain on them. Eris wasted no time whipping out her point-defense, madly swatting the air clear of the swarm. Eris smiled smugly at her handiwork and Enyo grinned along with her. Seizing the opening, she charged ahead where a ship stood alone. An enemy, dictated by the circumstances and by her IFF.
The enemy carrier fired off her own missile, but the sight did nothing to deter Enyo. Rather than entertain the thought of dodging, she instead met the missile head-on, bashing it aside with the back of her hand where it tumbled and fizzled harmlessly to the water. "Gotta try harder than that!"
A spirited bellow, were it not for the fact that her opponent had simply brushed past her at full tilt. Enyo whirled around and Eris looked up just in time for the latter to realize that the carrier was gunning straight for her. By the time Eris could do anything, she found herself flipped upside-down as though clotheslined. She headplanted into the water with only an undignified yelp.
Satisfied, Buzzard dusted off her hands. "With your friend out of the way, now we can fight on more even terms."
With a motion from Buzzard's hand the same planes that had harried them earlier reappeared. Enyo grit her teeth at the carrier. Bracing for the missiles, her rigging twitched. The applique armor that at first appeared to have been bolted to her sides leapt out and quickly came together.
Enyo's teethed grimace had become a cocky smile right before the attack connected.
The ensuing detonation enveloped the sight of her target. Buzzard waited for the smoke to clear, and when it did she saw something different. At first she couldn't see her foe, presented only with a metallic wall. That was, until she noticed her enemy's feet from under it before the wall disassembled like a puzzle. Behind her shield was Enyo, unscathed, with her shield pieces at her side almost like some kind of spider.
Enyo looked at Buzzard straight in the eyes before she charged. "I'm freaking invincible!"
She zeroed the distance, launching haymaker after another in an attempt to catch Buzzard. Her own shield pieces swung like her fists but as fiery her temperament and attacks were, none could find their intended target as Buzzard deftly kept her distance. Time spent dodging was not time spent attacking but when the time was just right…
*Clang!*
Buzzard's striking elbow met only metal. The blunted attack accomplished only in knocking her back. Withdrawing her shields, Enyo continued to smile. "Come on! Hit me! I'm right here! Fair fight you wanted!"
Buzzard only answered with a sly smirk. "You must have misheard me: when I said we could fight on more even terms, that didn't necessarily meant I'd fight fairly."
"What the hell are you- GACK!" A missile found itself punching Enyo from behind, knocking her out cold. Buzzard nodded at Kestrel who appeared behind where the cruiser once stood.
"Nice work."
"You too, Buzzard."
The bespectacled carrier turned her attention to the rest of the ongoing battle. The sounds of war had been building up in a crescendo. They could feel it in the air - the surprise was beginning to wear off. Buzzard nudged her glasses up before zipping off, her sister in tow.
Over in a singular part of Anchorhead Bay, it was pandemonium as usual. And it wasn't just the bombs and embers that made it chaos, it was the sheer mess of personnel and directions all tangled up tighter than a furball. Though not by choice, Thalassa knew this was to be their only stronghold.
She looked around to try to gauge the situation but all she could see was what everyone knew: disarray. Missiles and planes filled the skies but she could scarcely tell where. How big was the Delta Coalition's raid force? They managed to sneak past their radar network: how deep was their deception?
A voice called out to her, bringing her back to her senses. "... Thalassa!"
The cruiser nodded. So lost did she feel in the muddied fog of war, but there was at least something she could do. "Eunomia, what do you see?"
Eunomia's silence, which had lasted since the surprise attack came, was broken when she summoned her rigging. A wide scale-like array apparatus was erected like a ship's mast, raising behind her head like a totem. It took a second for it to be raised and gently whirr, and it took another before Eunomia gave a response. "Standard missiles and Eagles: one, five, nine, and ten 'o clock within a five kilometer radius. More missiles, not from aircraft. Points of origin from the sea itself. I know exactly where."
Enemy submarines. Thalassa turned to Eirene who had remained by her side. "Please take Eunomia and Calypso with you. Find those submarines!"
The nurse ran off, almost forgetting to nod. "Right!"
"Hey hey! You see that over there?"
A smile. "Let's get it!"
"Aaaaand… lift-off!"
A sharp hiss like a sputtering hose before a pair of missiles popped from the depths. Fensalir and Folkvangr watched as they arced undisturbed through the war-torn skies before they returned back to earth, embedding themselves in the base of a cargo crane with a bang. The structure shuddered and groaned. Then groaned louder as it slowly collapsed under its own weight. The waters of the harbor would be its grave.
Needless to say, the submarine twins mourned the moment with a celebratory high-five. "Ha! Nice one!"
"Too true, sis! Try to make online shipments now, ya stupid Rosies!"
Fensalir scanned for new targets, new opportunities with mischievous eyes. "Come on. There's a lot of stuff over there that no one's touched. Let's get it before the others do."
Folkvangr's eyes lit up. "That's like a great idea! Let's make some noise before stupid Vulture ruins it for us."
"Warning! You got three contacts headed your way!"
"Ugh, what-" Fensalir stopped short when, true to the warning, she spotted three blips on radar - three red blips moving at high speed. She cursed before quickly motioning to her sister. "Dive, dive!"
"Too late!" Folkvangr squeaked.
The twins ducked as a volley of missiles raked the seas around them. Popping their heads back up from the waves, the submarines saw three ships barreling upon them in a wide formation.
"There!" the cruiser in the middle cried. "Don't let them get away!"
But rather than run, Fensalir and Folkvangr bared their fangs. "Oh it's on now!"
The siblings split off before a second salvo could reach them. A ship - a dark-rigged destroyer - gave chase after Fensalir. She eyed the ninja-like ship (who seemed more like a wannabe in her opinion) as she zipped around, keeping her opponent in her sight but not in her's. Calypso kept up this seeming dance with Fensalir, holding fire but keeping a dangerous watch. Even when tempted with scattering fire from the submarine, the destroyer held firm, blunting the attacks with even knives and shuriken pulled from her sets. It wasn't until something exploded behind her that Fensalir realized the presence of another ship at her rear, the destroyer having been merely the distraction.
The young submarine whirled around to see Eirene at her six, her angelic appearance offset by the look of gratified malice that etched her features. "Now!"
Two hisses. Two missile launches, both front and back. Fensalir did the only thing that seemed sensible in her mind - she ducked.
She didn't quite see the results, but she did hear them. And when she surfaced, she saw her two opponents down for the count, done in by their own scheme. Fensalir offered only a blown raspberry before she made herself scarce.
"... Why did I ever think that was a good idea?" Eirene groaned.
Elsewhere, Folkvangr had her hands full dealing with the third ship. Despite her curious blindfold, it seemed nothing could touch Eunomia.
"Argh! Stand still you little brat!"
"On the contrary, it seems you are more suitable for that endearment," Eunomia coolly replied. "Based on the tone in which you speak, your very psychological profile is becoming-"
"Ew, you judge people too? That's like so uncool. Just like your getup."
Eunomia's frow twitched. "... Your sentence has certainly been increased." Judgement cast, she wasted no time unleashing her own armaments. In a panic, Fensalir dove beneath the waves before she could catch missiles to the face. The underwater world was not unfamiliar for the submarine; hiding under the surface brought about psychological advantages as well as practical. Looking up, Fensalir could see the enemy where she stood.
A series of ports popped open along the length of her rigging. "Get a load of this!" Scores of munitions were unleashed in the frothy mess created in their wake. But before they could even spiral toward their intended target, she immediately shot off in an evasive maneuver. The missiles broke through the surface, meeting only empty air. To rub it in even further, some of them met their premature end as victims of Eunomia's CIWS.
Fensalir looked baffled. "Like, what the heck?!"
"My turn," her foe uttered. Firing skywards, Eunomia's missiles flipped back towards the earth where their descent brought them plunging deep beneath the waves. Fensalir quickly dove deeper, barely escaping the return fire.
Up on the surface, Eunomia stood calm. Her radar array hummed, the scales remaining untipped. "Down twenty fathoms… circling but not for counterattack. Eirene and Calypso not responding: must assume the other submarine has disabled them."
Suddenly, Eunomia stepped aside before a missile screamed right past her. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Fensalir raced towards the battle at full speed, hollering at the top of her lungs and firing away with more missiles. Her screaming barrage was met with unenthusiasm from Eunomia who casually dodged and blunted them. "Yelling will not improve the performance of your missiles. It will also not improve your stealth, though it would not helped you given my superior sensors which grant me clear vision of all incoming contacts and attacks."
Frustrated, Fensalir reached forward. From an open missile port, a single slender projectile was yanked out, now firmly in her hands. "Take this then!" With a great cry, she hurled it towards the destroyer.
Eunomia continued to stand still. "Take… what? You have not fired any munition so-"
*Clunk!*
The rest of her judgement fell silent as the unprimed missile collided with her face. Apparently it was a good enough throw, as Eunomia fell on her back, still and unmoving. Even with the blindfold on her, the submarine sisters could see she was indeed knocked out cold. Whatever inane conclusion the destroyer had planned to make would be stuck in her lips - for now.
"Ugh. Let's like get away from here," Fensalir remarked with indignation.
Folkvangr's lips curled in mockery at the enemy ship. "Ew, I can like see her panties. Let's so get out of here."
The sisters quickly made haste for other parts of the harbor, the skirmish quickly forgotten and neglected as the havoc they leave in their mischief.
By now, the surprise raid had ceased to be a surprise. The operation had called for a sudden vicious strike to insert as much damage to the enemy facilities as possible. It was in all intends and purposes a second Comberth Harbor. No tricks work twice but against the Rán Fleet there was a possibility. The Delta Coalition had prior intel regarding the background of the Rose Kingdom's reserve fleet and it was hoped that a small but potent team would suffice against it. But even against a lesser-experienced fleet, one fact remains consistent: the success of surprise attacks inherently peters out once the shock wears off.
… With the exception of this operation, as Buzzard started to realize.
Before she even realized it, the enemy's strength had dwindled. Two ships already down, with three unaccounted for but no longer a factor according to Andromeda. Now it was down to three, the remaining combatants that made up the Rán Fleet.
Of the three remaining, Buzzard made them all out to be aegis cruisers, one of whom seemed to retain the semblance of command despite the desperate circumstances. She frowned.
'Three cruisers? None of them match the profile of the fleet leader.' She turned to her sister. "Have you seen their commander?"
Taking a brief pause from battle, Kestrel shook her head. "No, I haven't. Now that you mention it, where could she have gone?"
"The missing piece of the puzzle - now of all times..." Buzzard scoured the surroundings to no avail. "Regardless, we'll finish up here. Present or not, Dysnomia will certainly find her fleet crippled. Vulture!"
"Righto. Let's finish this!"
With her two sisters at her six, Buzzard made a beeline straight for the remaining enemy targets. With fighting constant and heavy, there would be no subtlety with this move.
Finishing moves were rarely like that, after all.
Sat atop of her rigging - a pedestal in the image of the ship she was to represent - Thalassa spotted the incoming attack with wide eyes. "Here they come! Everyone, fall back!"
Ceto, in front of her, only smirked. Like her rigging's serpent-like apparatus that was connected to her back, a shark-like grin was on her face. "Comin' straight at us? I say bring it on!" she dared, whipping up her double-barreled shotgun-like weapon bristling with missiles.
Beside her was Metis, accompanied by her own rigging in more ways than one. Hovering by her side like orbiting thoughts, mechanical armatures giving way to arcane means as the parts simply levitated. Unlike Ceto, Metis only peered toward the incoming ships with a curious expression. "Hey, are they all wearing the same coat? If that's the case, could they really tell which one belongs to which-"
An explosion slammed into Metis, cutting her random rambling short as she was catapulted back. It was ultimately a non-fatal blow, as proven by her drawn-out groan that came across as acted and even unenthused. It took her own levitating rigging a second to realize she had been hit before they too recoiled back. The whole scene was something akin to a slapstick cartoon, complete with her splayed out like a ragdoll.
Ceto could only shake her head. But as she faced her enemies, her spirit kindled back to life. Gripping her weapon, she bolted forward.
"Ceto, wait!"
The cruiser only smiled wider. "COME GET SOME YA BIRD-FACED BASTARDS!"
Snapping her shotgun up, she took aim. A storm of bullet-like missiles erupted out of the muzzle in a volatile display. They cut through the air, snaking towards their nearest targets.
Buzzard had other ideas. As intimidating the sight was at first, it was more haphazard than realized. "Now!"
Bright lights and smoke. In the haze of confusion, Ceto's shot lost form as all three carriers narrowly slipped through unharmed. And more importantly, they advanced unimpeded as they continued in an arrowhead-like formation - the tip aimed straight for Ceto.
She cursed right as she got three carrier's worth of firepower directed towards her.
Even out at sea, far from the harbor's mouth, the sights of war could not be escaped from. What was once calm seas and clear blue skies that was the Anchorhead Bay became tainted, their sanctity plundered. Once begun, all knew that the lasting traces of war would be difficult to erase even after it would end.
All present in the harbor knew this. And this included the three discrete pairs of eyes that peered at the situation from afar with concern, but also curiosity.
"Woah! Talk about startin' the party without us!" quipped one.
"You could say that again," replied another. "But also talk about bad timing. That Dysnomia lady won't be happy to hear about this!"
"Is it those scary jet planes I hear? It must be those new carriers we've been hearing about," observed the third.
The three's wireless squawked to life. "Report," a sultry voice asked. "What have you found?"
"It's bad news!" answered one, the defacto leader of the trio. "The harbor's already under attack. Enemy composition unknown but it must be those fabled carriers of this world!"
A thoughtful hum was her immediate reply. "Then it looks like we'll have our introductions cut out for us. Proceed ahead with utmost caution."
"Aye-aye!" the three chanted. Then as discreetly as they had watched, they disappeared. A prelude for what was to arrive very shortly.
"Warning! Four contacts at the edge of the harbor, bearing 180 - straight from the south!"
Amidst the blackened bay, the three sisters looked up. "Hm. About time someone noticed," Buzzard mused. "Is Dysnomia among them?"
Andromeda gave her swift reply. "Vanguard ship matches signature profile of a battlecruiser, escorted by two cruisers and a destroyer. It's got to be her!"
'Assistance from the rival Aegir Fleet? Not as impossible as I had thought.' Calling out to her sisters, Buzzard rallied them to her side. "Enemy reinforcements are en route. Engage them at your own discretion but the mission comes first. We're nearly done so let's wrap it up!"
With a chorus of affirmatives, the brief meeting was adjourned. They made off towards other parts of the port that had remained untouched, but it was not long until their warnings began yelling into their ears.
"Missiles! Evade!"
To who the warning was for, no one was certain; for who the missiles were intended, the only thing for certain was that a whole wave of missiles came streaking from the smoke and haze towards the carriers. A tidal wave of ordnance that the sister ships had no choice but to endure it. To even think of holding it back or defying it would have incurred the wrath of an entire armada's worth of guided munitions.
The dust settled but their concerns did not. "Everyone made it through alright?" Kestrel asked.
"God damn! I mean seriously, god damn!"
"Vulture, language."
Kestrel looked towards the sea where the attack had originated from. 'Massed missile fire: firepower rivaling that of a battleship, capable of unleashing an entire air wing's worth of ordnance in a very short time… Something only a battlecruiser like Dysnomia is capable of!'
"Buzzard. I'm closest to the enemy. I'll move to intercept and give you two time!"
Kestrel looked in shock. "W-wait!"
But whatever her sister had to object, it failed to reach Buzzard who was already seconds from engagement. Her versus the enemy fleet; a scenario she wouldn't have expected to put herself in, but opinions had no place in tactical necessity. She told herself that she would make up for it to Kestrel once they got out of this alive.
Her IFF picked up her foe before they laid eyes. A grimaced glare was already waiting for her: the battlecruiser Dysnomia, accompanied by her own rigging. A pair of ship bows, bristling with now-smoking batteries, rested high by her shoulders. Long fins draped down from the bottom of her rigging like a cape of alloy. Though unorthodox in arrangement and appearance, the presence of rose emblems, some even sculpted onto her exterior, made Dysnomia's allegiance abundant.
"Never did I think that the Silver Star Federation would send their best for a deceitful raid," the battlecruiser spat.
"Call it 'strategy'," Buzzard retorted. Her Hornets readily gathered behind her. "And you're welcome."
With the hand of a conductor, her planes swooped in, intent on cementing the last word of their exchange. Dysnomia leapt aside, half of the attack meeting yet-to-be-soon churning heated sea. She turned to aim, but a Hornet buzzed at her from the side. Already one step behind, Dysnomia found herself on the back foot, forced to fend off from too many directions.
Buzzard watched her planes go to work, almost finding herself drawn to her own handiwork. An execution she couldn't help but smile to herself. "You Rán Fleet ships are more novice than I had expected. Should have valued their training when they had the chance."
"Oh? Is that why you were dispatched to attack only when they were least expecting it?"
Buzzard spun around just in time for her position to come under fire. But as she recoiled from the blows, she realized the absence of alerts - she wasn't under missile fire! "What the-?!"
Clearing her vision, Buzzard saw who it was. The unfamiliarity gave her pause.
The figure smirked. "Care to have this dance… schiffsmädchen of the bold new carrier era?"
Ironblood Heavy Cruiser
PRINZ EUGEN
Kestrel glanced back tentatively.
"What's up?" Vulture asked, unable to ignore her sister's discomfort beside her.
"... I don't know why, but I have a strange feeling about this," she softly replied. "Will she be all right drawing all attention to herself?"
Vulture shrugged. "Knowing her, she knows what she's doing. No way she'd dive into a furball without planning everything out. Heck, she doesn't even go to the bathroom without a backup plan."
Kestrel finally looked away, instead looking at her sibling with a serious expression. "We've already had plenty of surprises today. What more will await us...?"
"Heh. Like maybe if I catch 'ol Clevie actually on a date with... Huh? Kestrel, on your left!"
The two ships instantly swerved to a stop, feeling the whiplash of their sudden deceleration and the rush of tracers that zipped by inches from them. The two immediately assumed defensive postures.
With the attack now realized, it was only now that Vulture noticed the two contacts on her radar. "Aw shoot. Sorry that I wasn't paying attention."
"It's okay," her sister reassured. "But where was the radar lock? That wasn't a missile attack just now."
"Of course not!"
The pair turned towards the source of the voice. From the ash-ridden mist a figure walked out. Their IFF spotted her before their own eyes but even then, it only raised more questions than answers.
"What's the matter? Never seen a ship with actual cannons? Wie lächerlich!" the newcomer scoffed.
Vulture sputtered out a chortle. "Vee-what? You got a nugget stuck in your throat or is that just you?"
Whoever this person was, she took immediate offense to the joke. "Hah? Just who are you to mock me like that? Is this really the impression I should be getting from the so-called wonder-ships here?"
Ironblood Heavy Cruiser
ADMIRAL HIPPER
"Stay you hand, Hipper. It would be unbecoming of us to mark our first impression by losing our cool so early." Zipping to her side, revealing her swiftness her nimble figure stated, appeared another ship. "We must remember that we are in a different world; we must not underestimate our enemies."
Ironblood Destroyer
Z23
Kestrel was puzzled. "'Different world'...? Are you…?"
"Admiral Hipper: heavy cruiser of the Admiral Hipper class," said the titular ship with a haughty tone. "So don't you forget it!"
"Z23 of the Type 1336A destroyer class," introduced the other. Raising her weapon, a dual-barreled turret nested in the shark-like mouth of her rigging, Z23 pointed it toward the two carriers. "You have openly consorted with our enemies, and as such we of Ironblood shall consort with yours. Consider us enemies!"
Kestrel looked shocked. Just who exactly were they to enter a war not theirs? She knew they must be from the other world - the world familiar to the Azur Lane, a realm that had been touched by the Siren's conflict. But why they had chosen to get involved she could scarcely rationalize.
Vulture leered at the two. "Enemies, huh? Yeah sure, let's do this. You and flatty better not embarrass yourselves."
If Hipper had taken slight from Vulture's statement before, she now struck a nerve with a sledgehammer. The cruiser exploded in rage. "WHAT WAS THAT?! Prepare to die, you idiot!"
Her rigging roared, and like them so too did her cannons. Kestrel and Vulture dove to the side; the fight had begun and Vulture celebrated the occasion with laughter. "Ha ha! Worth it!"
Kestrel however, was not in the mood. She quickly got into the comms. "This is Kestrel. We're engaged with unknown forces! I repeat, engaged with unknown ships!"
"Oh now you mention that!" someone angrily called out. "You're like so slow on the uptake!"
Folkvangr ducked down, allowing a rod-like projectile to knife through the water above her like a speeding bullet. "Hey sis, can you like get off the radio and help me out here?!"
In front of her, the submarine had found her domain unexpectedly contested. One moment they were minding their own business, the next they ran into them. In the murky depths, unusual interlopers harassed the two sisters like phantoms. But strangely, they found themselves besieged by strange missiles, their arrival foretold without the traditional alerts. They were fast and although unguided their silent nature made them a key nuisance, especially when in massed numbers.
Whoever these submarines were, they certainly knew what they were doing.
One of those submarines rushed into view, her peculiar shark-mouth arrangement of her rigging making a growling sound, but it became clear it was more of an engine-like puttering. "Yeehaw! Kick the rudders and tear asunder!"
Ironblood Submarine
U-101
A slew of torpedoes were shot out from the side of her motorcycle-like vehicle. "Sic 'em, Great Shark!"
Folkvangr quickly circled away from the speeding projectiles, watching as they blindly shot off to parts unknown. "Real dumb of you to use those missile-thingymijs! I can like totally step out of the way, ever think of that?!" She punctuated her comeback with a missile of her own.
Seeing this, U-101 zoomed away. But to her chagrin she could see the projectile pursue her. "Hey what's the big idea?!"
"Woah, so that's what they look like!" exclaimed another sub as she watched the scene. Though she was U-101's partner she couldn't help but be enchanted by the way the missile chased her. "The way they move and turn… they're much better than even our homing torpedoes!"
Ironblood Submarine
U-73
U-101 however could not share her curiosity. "Yo! Some assist here?"
"Hang on, just need to jot some notes!"
Someone bolted past U-73. "Don't worry, I'll help!" Gliding through the water as fast as her unique whale-like rigging could take her, this little submarine pursued U-101's trail. "Head towards me! Do not move elsewhere until I say so!"
"You're the boss!" Making a hard turn (and momentarily accomplishing a drift doing so) U-101 brought her craft around. Seeing the missile still in pursuit, she revved her engines harder and rocketed forward. She saw the friendly Ironblood submarine straight ahead, whereupon she fired a torpedo.
"Woah woah! What's the big idea?"
"Hard turn, now!"
U-101 obliged, conducting a hard swerve that nearly strained her rigging. The torpedo shot right past where she was a second ago - and struck the pursuing missile head-on. The impact of two explosive warheads marked the end of the harrowing chase.
Both breathed a sigh in relief. U-101 turned to her fellow submarine, flashing her a hearty thumbs-up. "Thanks for saving my bacon!"
Ironblood Submarine
U-556
U-556 returned the gesture, throwing in a cute wink as a bonus. With her fellow ships back by her side, they squared off against their modern counterparts as they still roamed the depths. "Come on, everyone! Miss Eugen and the others are waiting for us!"
Buzzard bounced back with a grunt. Her complement of jets offered a capable defensive screen that kept her foes back, but she quickly realized that they and her countermeasures could do little against 8 in. shells.
"Very impressive," Prinz Eugen crooned. "I had yet to satiate myself with a carrier whose planes I could not swat away so easily. You certainly know how to make a nuisance, ja?"
Buzzard solidified her footing just in time for her to retaliate. "Then try this!" Recalling a squadron or two to her, she quickly set about giving her foe a Strangereal welcome. "Try to swat this down!"
Seeing the storm of missiles about to hit, Eugen acted quickly. The impact from over a dozen strikes blew gales across the sea but when the smoke settled, Buzzard was perplexed to she her opponent alive: unharmed and barely shaken.
"Hrm, to think that the barrage nearly put a crack in my defenses. A welcome change of pace, but I think I will prefer your 'nuisances' instead~."
Before Buzzard could think of a follow-up strike, a missile from Dysnomia at her flank put those plans on indefinite hold. Now having lost the momentum, she withdrew, covering her rear with her planes as she did. The carrier quickly consulted with her radio.
"Andromeda. Talk to me."
In the far distant part of the ocean, the intelligence vessel had been busy on her end. "Kestrel and Vulture already engaged with unknown hostiles. Folkvangr and Fensalir tangled with their own problems - three subs. Technical specifications of enemy elements indeterminate but they're very similar to those of the Azur Lane."
Buzzard paused. "... Then it's undeniable: they are from the other side."
"It would seem that way… Nothing in the comms traffic from before suggested anything like this. Bigger problem is, we got nothing on these ships. We don't know what they're capable of or why they're here. Advise you don't spend any more time than necessary - primary objectives have been sufficiently accomplished."
The carrier nodded. "Wilco over."
A loud bang snapped her focus back to the present. Buzzard heard the sound of overhead jets clear as day, and the sounds of another skirmish was close. She caught glimpses of Kestrel and Vulture to her relief. But through the veil of battle she spotted their two foes, more of their unknown assailants.
"Kestrel, Vulture. Sitrep."
"We're holding our own right now," Kestrel replied. "But it's strange. The way they're fighting… It's as if they're just testing us."
"They're from the other world, chalk it up to erring to the side of caution. But enough about that. Prepare to disengage and withdraw. We've overstayed our welcome."
Whether Kestrel understood, Buzzard couldn't quite hear it as a shell whizzed past her, overshooting just ahead of her. Shooting a quick furtive glance behind her, the carrier spotted the crimson red of her pursuer's uniform. It was that ship again. Her narrowing gaze met Prinz Eugen's mirthful look.
Diverting her gaze back to the front, Buzzard caught movement. She gave a quick skip, the faint ripples of a murky torpedo sliding quietly right underneath where her feet would have been. She turned to find the one responsible for the shrewd attack, almost overlooking her before she did.
U-556 scrambled to dive. "Oh snap!"
Something emerged from the waves opposite to where Buzzard was looking, but as she jumped away from the watery eruption, she saw it was just Fensalir and Folkvangr, exhaustion written over their visage. "Pwah! Hey four-eyes, we gonna like bounce outta here or what?"
An errant shell whizzed past them. Some distance away stood a ship Buzzard guessed was a destroyer, her attention and her weapon pointed in their direction. "There they are! The enemy submarines!"
"Buzzard! Are you alright?"
The bespectacled ship was never more glad than to see her two sisters. "I am, thank you." But as happy as the reunion was, she found that the enemy had too. Cannonfire quickly peppered their position, ending their respite.
"All ships, fighting withdraw!" The two submarines plopped back beneath the waves as the combined air armada swung in a wide circle like a typhoon, threatening to cut apart the enemy formation.
Admiral Hipper's face curled in annoyance. "Verdammt! These are more annoying than anything I ever expected!"
Though not in a better position than her sister, Prinz Eugen was not so discouraged. "Don't push yourself too hard. That is not why we are here, after all."
"Of course I know!" Hipper snapped. "I'm just saying that these… things… are so… annoying!"
Flakfire cut the air but the display of tracers did little to dissuade the arrow-like aircraft that zipped faster than they could keep track of. The cruisers kept up their fire, evading when they could but the air attacks proved thicker than they could move.
Then, as though a flip was switched, the attacks ceased. The carriers' flocks turned to migrate away back to their hosts who, as the Ironblood ships scanned around, had long escaped. In the calm that ensued, an uneasy feeling brewed as they watched the fleeting shapes slowly disappear in the sky.
"Hm..." Prinz Eugen thought of their encounter, their first meeting - the first taste was but a mere appetizer. The main course had yet to arrive and she would see if they found its taste… delectable. "Auf wiedersehen… for now."
The seas may be their collective homes. But in this world, against their power… the skies would not belong to them.
Crackling fire.
That was all that dominated the ambience of the harbor. Bombs had long fallen and the battle had already come to pass, but the sounds of war continued to persist in the dying flames that took over Anchorhead Bay.
That was all Dysnomia could hear as she made her way through the husk of the harbor. When she first saw the smoke, she had hoped it was a hallucination. But it was evident: the situation had become no further from a nightmare. Everything they had put together in preparation now literally went up in smoke. Broken, despoiled; there was still something of salvage was there not? A consolation?
Behind the backdrop, Dysnomia heard something hopeful. A groan. She frantically looked around and to her relief, she found it drifting in the scorched waves.
Clambered to her blackened rigging as if it were a sea-bound refuse rested Thalassa: hurt but as Dysnomia approached, still alive.
"Guh..."
"Thalassa?... Thalassa!"
Her lieutenant stirred. Lifting her head, her gaze met with the battlecruiser's. "Did… oh thank the gods. You finally arrived."
"Indeed I have," Dysnomia replied. "... I'm sorry that I had to leave you all in this predicament. I can't imagine how much undue trouble you were under."
Thalassa sniffed. The battlecruiser was even certain that she saw a tear roll down her cheek. "Oh, to think that I could finally be graced with sympathy from my commander… You are too kind with those words."
Dysnomia coughed. "Um, yes… Where is Enyo? Have you seen her?"
"Must be somewhere else, maybe near the dorms," the cruiser answered nonchalantly. "The organization of the fleet, as well as her 2nd Division was her responsibility but-"
Suddenly, the two heard a voice. They perked up to listen: a faint soft cry. A whimper? Who else was nearby other than-
The sound came again and this time, both Dysnomia and Thalassa found the source. In fact, when they did they wondered just how the heck they failed to notice it earlier. Crouched tightly on the harbor sea lay a diminutive figure of dark exterior: her silky short hair that covered part of her face, her scarf, her featureless dress of detached sleeves and baggy pants wrapped only with belts and straps, and even her destroyer-type rigging all bore a dark muddled color. She huddled where she was, cowering in the open.
Rose Kingdom Destroyer
APHAIAH
Thalassa looked at the destroyer with an astonished look. "You have got to be kidding me. That's where she was all this time?!"
Dysnomia walked over to Aphaiah, blissfully unaware of her presence until she laid a hand on her shoulder. She jolted in surprise. "W-w-wha-?! H-how…?" Then she noticed her fleet leader standing over her. "U-uh Dysnomia, ma'am!"
"Yes, hello Aphaiah. May I ask where you have been up until now?"
The destroyer twiddled her fingers as she began. "W-well I received your call to deploy - everyone did. I arrived early but no one noticed me! At the meetings, at the attendance, at the canteen!"
"Actually I think I remember seeing you at dessert time two days ago..." Thalassa muttered to herself.
Dysnomia couldn't help but sigh. "... You're too good at staying stealthy."
"I can't help it! Am I really that unnoticeable~~? Even today no one noticed me, even when bombs were falling everywhere!"
'Even our foes failed to take notice of her, huh?' Dysnomia thought. But further light-hearted thoughts were postponed when she sensed presence behind her. It didn't surprise her - but she knew her compatriots would be.
"... Who are they?" Thalassa inquired.
As she turned, Dysnomia thought of an appropriate response as she surveyed the Ironblood expedition force that had agreed to accompany her. An admittedly odd bunch, but a host of select ships she was assured was capable. A bargain that the enemies of the Azur Lane would not be able to ignore.
A gambit that she hoped would pay off for the Rose Kingdom's war efforts.
"They are the help that I sought as part of my 'secret mission'. The reason why I had to leave you in this crucial moment. They… are my gamble."