After completing fast docking maneuvers with the submarines, the cargo ship departed quickly. The feeding tubes transferred tons of food, nanomaterial crates, and weapons. Her mental model, a brunette with a friendly attitude, said goodbye and wished them good hunting. The submarines moved toward their target.

An unexpected complication arose when they discovered that the black hole was bending the space-time continuum so strongly that the dimensional space cover was unstable. They could approach within three or four light minutes of the event horizon, but any closer, and the ships would emerge into normal space. Like in the old days under the oceans: if a submarine is seen, it's dead.

Iona decided it was time for a conference. Her preferred virtual room, modeled after an old Japanese classroom from ancient Japan, now had nineteen students. The gang was reunited once again, and when the submarine corps was mobilized against the machines, they would teach them a lesson. Right now, however, Iona had more modest objectives in mind.

She opened the meeting, saying, "Girls, I want to share some parts of my conversation with Admiral Chihaya. A diplomatic mission led by Nagato was attacked. The Colony of Archangel has been occupied, and the population was probably exterminated. We completely lost a battleship and ten heavy cruisers. Forge was also attacked, but the assault was repelled."

She waited a few seconds until the chorus of insults and curses subsided. "Now, Admiral Chihaya has entrusted us with a very important mission. I assume everybody remembers the Doolittle Raid. We are going to carry out a similar operation. Our target," she said, displaying a picture of the station, "is, for some reason, unprotected. I know it's strange, but it could be due to overconfidence or complacency. We couldn't detect any defenses, but their technology is different from ours. We must be very careful."

"We will divide the fleet into three groups. The first group will position itself in front of the enemy. I will emerge and launch my cruise missiles. If it is a trap, or if there are hidden defenses, I hope they will reveal themselves. I will stay on the surface to draw their fire. When I send the signal, the other two groups will attack as well," she explained.

The mental models nodded in agreement. They shut down the connection and informed their crews of the new orders. Onboard the small ships, the crews were in a state of readiness, prepared to give the machines a piece of their minds. Slowly, the ships moved into position.

Iona.

Iona's senses were on high alert. It felt strange that she couldn't detect any defenses protecting such a valuable installation. She wondered to herself if the factory was actually a battlestation, like Alex. She knew her passive sensors were too limited around the strong space-time distortion, so she raised her periscope to observe the factory. Four large cylindrical structures were connected by a network of pipes, with a big sphere in the center.

Her senses detected an energy surge around the structure. Had she been detected? Unfortunately, her passive sensors were insufficient to acquire a lock. Well, I'll take the risk alone. "All hands, we will surface. Be ready for active scanning at my command," Iona alerted her crew.

On the bridge, only four officers were present— the only humans there. Iona kept control of the weapons console herself. Against machines, human reflexes were too slow. Her attack tactics required rapid target acquisition and releasing her weapons on unprepared targets.

"Engage active scanners, now," Iona instructed her sensor officer. A fleeting memory of her old sonar specialists, Mayuri and Shizuka, crossed her mind. She missed the girls, who were now officers in the Fleet. The structure, now with improved resolution, was locked and targeted.

Just as she was about to order the missile launch, she detected something: a low-frequency scan, using tachyons. She was unsure if the pulse could detect her, so she remained slightly exposed to find out. In an instant, the carefully planned mission went FUBAR. Four spheres, almost two hundred and fifty meters in diameter, arrived near the station. She stopped her scanners, but she knew it was too late. One sphere changed course and headed toward her location.

She alerted her crew and ordered a switch from missiles to torpedoes, her preferred anti-ship weapon. The tubes were already loaded, so she launched a spread of six torpedoes. Running within the dimensional layer, they literally appeared one kilometer in front of the sphere. A series of fast pulse blasters fired at the evading torpedoes, and one was caught. The corrosive warheads distorted the sphere's sensors, and the remaining torpedoes hit the hull. The warheads detonated against the shields, but the corrosive effect bypassed them. When the three spheres of light faded, half of the sphere's mass had disappeared. The remaining portion, no longer a ship, exploded shortly after.

"They can detect us. First squad, surface and launch missiles, then empty your tubes five seconds later toward the spheres," Iona commanded her companions. As one, seven submarines surfaced and launched their missiles at the station, followed by a spread of torpedoes. In less than a minute, one hundred and forty missiles appeared, performing a sequence of erratic evasive maneuvers controlled by the mental models. Ten seconds later, as Iona had ordered, fifty-six torpedoes targeted the spheres.

Iona and her comrades descended into the deepest dimensional layer and waited. If the plan worked, the machine ships would be forced to choose between protecting the station or themselves.

She couldn't see it, but the three spheres prioritized defending the station. The fast pulse batteries targeted and destroyed the missiles, but they ignored the torpedoes. Two spheres were vaporized, and the last one positioned itself near the station as a final shield. Fifty-six missiles struck the station, and fifty-six gigaton explosions followed. The last sphere, already damaged by the massive explosion, was incinerated, dying in a ball of plasma.

At the same time, two groups of six submarines surfaced and launched their entire arsenals at the station. However, the station wasn't as defenseless as it appeared. Hundreds of small anti-air batteries unleashed a storm of blue pulses against the missile swarm. Executing intricate maneuvers that only a madman could conceive, most of the missiles survived and detonated their payloads on the station. Iona should have known what could happen when you destroy an antimatter factory. When the released antimatter collided with normal matter, it exploded with hundreds of isotons of force. The alterations in the space-time continuum were so drastic that several submarines were ejected from their hiding space.

The small ships were thrown into a maelstrom of colliding dimensions, doing their best to stabilize their positions. The mental models coped better than the human crew, who experienced severe sensory disorientation. The human mind had not evolved to handle such a challenge, and many sailors were temporarily incapacitated.
When the distortion finally ceased, they could see— Iona included— that the factory no longer existed. It seems more surprise attacks will be used in this war, Iona thought with deep satisfaction. When the thousands of submarines in the Corps reach the Machines' territory, they will learn the dangers of the depths. I must report our success to Gunzou and inform the fleet about this tachyon scanner. They are adapting to us, she realized.
They remained hidden, waiting for more prey.

NEXUS Star System.

The mechanical beings were holding a meeting about the war and recent events. It wasn't exactly a conversation— more an exchange of ideas and facts. The Nexus was guided by a ruling machine, which brought order to the chaos. Suddenly, a warning demanded their attention. The antimatter factory had sent an alert about an attack, and four spheres had been struck by hidden enemies. Shortly afterward, the factory ceased all transmissions.

The Nexus recognized that its survival was once again under threat. Since they did not experience guilt or moral imperatives, they simply dispatched part of their fleet, numbering in the thousands. This time, both machines and organics were their enemies— an improbable alliance of species. Fifty cubes warped toward a large colony.

Starbase 23, Alexandria.

This time, Gal had come to reinforce the fleet around Forge. The powerful hybrid supercarrier, still under the command of Saul Tigh, was orbiting the massive base. The old man, now an admiral promoted by the Quorum and backed by the Federation's Admiralty, was using a virtual presence, just in case the machines decided to target Forge again.

"Admiral Jackson, it's a pleasure to meet you again. William Adama sends his regards to you and Alex," Tigh said, addressing Jackson. Before Jackson could reply, Gunzou entered Operations. Tigh greeted him first. "Admiral Chihaya, it's a pleasure. Where is Iona?" he asked.

"Iona is leading a raid on the Machines' infrastructure, launching a surprise attack behind enemy lines. If successful, the Dimensional Submarine Corps will be unleashed upon them— and God help them," Gunzou explained.

Two more figures appeared on-screen to greet the admirals: one was Gal, the mental model of the Galactica Supercarrier, and the other was Lee Adama. Lee had continued his military career on warships, leaving fighter duty behind. Kara, adamant after her retirement three years ago, had pushed for him to pursue a quieter life. Gal spoke first, "Greetings, Admiral Chihaya and Admiral Jackson." Both men nodded respectfully to the powerful ship's avatar. Lee, now the XO, followed with a formal greeting.

Inside the mental model link, a different conversation was taking place. Gal and Alex were discussing the latest developments in the war. Since Alex had built Gal inside her, a comical relationship of mother and daughter was born.

"So, are we sure about the Archangel colony? No survivors?" Gal asked.

"I'm not entirely sure, Gal. But Salem's records aren't exactly encouraging," Alex replied.

"I should visit their home system and make them understand the gravity of their mistakes," Gal said angrily.

Alex understood Gal's frustration. They had lost many lives in just two battles. "I believe you'll have your chance to take part in the war. Be prepared to fold quickly if a colony comes under attack," Alex advised.

"Understood. Send everything to me via the Tactical Network. I want to analyze and discuss the data with my admiral," Gal said. Alex nodded. "It's done."

In the real world, the three admirals exchanged old jokes and discussed common happenings. As the atmosphere relaxed, Chihaya added, "Admiral Tigh, the new superbattleships are arriving tomorrow. Once they arrive, I'll organize a new task force centered around Galactica."

Tigh considered the news and asked, "Are they ready?" Gunzou smiled mischievously. "Oh yes, all four are coming. And they're lethal."

One day later.

A fleet was on its way to Forge, but all attention was focused on the first four ships. These were the first four Union Cores created by Gretel since the blockade, and sent aboard these behemoths. At three kilometers long, these vessels, an evolution of the H-44 superbattleships, represented the culmination of warship design by both the Fleet and humanity. Monstrous in size, even larger than Gal or the Yamatos, they carried enough firepower to level planetary surfaces in a matter of hours. Their capability against other warships was still a matter of speculation.

Of course, Star Wars fans were ecstatic. Everyone recognized the superdestroyer-like design but without the absurdly exposed command tower and shield generators that plagued those fictional ships. These vessels, almost like battle stations themselves, boasted sixty main batteries along the upper and lower hulls. The number of secondary guns, anti-aircraft batteries, and missile launcher cells was staggering. Mounted on the bow, the three massive barrels of SGCs (Super Graviton Cannons) were ready to obliterate anything in their path. The ships were also equipped with the new corrosive beam, and along the hull, dozens of smaller SGCs—borrowed from the heavy cruiser arsenal—could be deployed as needed.

As tradition dictated, the ships were named after historic naval vessels. In this case, these particular names had never been used, so there was a degree of speculation involved. They were named Hutten, Berlichingen, Hindenburg, and Ludendorff.

At 11 AM Forge time, the four colossi arrived. Even Gal was impressed by the new additions. However, the cores chose to manifest only one mental model per ship, as Gal had done before. The reason wasn't entirely clear, but the girls mentioned that anything more would be too chaotic. An hour later, the main fleet arrived. Two hundred ships, many of them battle-hardened from the Cylon War, converged on Forge. The three Yamato-class superbattleships and Supercarrier were among them, accompanied by the familiar Montanas, Iowas, and Bismarck. All congratulated the new arrivals, wishing them good hunting in the upcoming campaign.

Starbase Alexandria.

It would be a lie to say the admirals weren't awestruck by the fleet's arrival. The sight of so many powerful warships was enough to stir deep emotions in many of them. Unfortunately, the last thing they wanted to hear at that moment was the blaring of a klaxon demanding attention.

The communications officer's voice cut through the tension: "Incoming transmissions from Atlantea and New Europe—they're under attack by hundreds of machine ships!"

Gunzou, the highest-ranking officer present, quickly gathered the admirals and squadron leaders from the assembled fleet. "Listen up! Two colonies are under attack right now, so forget the pleasantries. Get ready for the fight of your lives. We're dealing with hundreds of enemy ships, and the fleet units defending these colonies won't last long without our help. We'll split into two task forces—one hundred ships for each planet. The new H-44s will pair up with each fleet. Move at best speed," Gunzou ordered swiftly.

He kept the channel open to the four new ships. "Girls, I know I'm sending you into battle without much experience, but the people and ships on those planets don't have the luxury of time. Trust your seniors, follow their lead, and good hunting. Dismissed." The four mental models, each embodying the classical German physical appearance, nodded seriously before closing the channel. Outside the station, the fleets were already assembling under the expert command of seasoned human captains and mental models.

Gunzou turned his thoughts elsewhere. I need to talk to Iona. The Corps is coming, and I'm about to unleash hell on these machines.