Se7en: I do not anything!
-+-
...
It is over yet?
Those are the words in my mind as I hold onto my rifle tightly…
One moment, I was on my way to the ship I was assigned, eager to start my day as a sailor, only for the sky to fall and the station was attacked by the Japanese TF squadron.
What the deal!? Has the war broken out already!?
I know I should be out there and do some fighting, but what the heck can I do!? You expect me to shoot a robot with this rifle…?
This is hopeless, I should just sit here and wait…
…
…
…
"sigh~ and it's getting boring real quick…"
I lamely say to myself and slowly open the door to take a peek outside…
The fight seems to settle down for a bit…
"Maybe I should go check around…"
…
…
…
Pure destruction is all I could see surrounding me. Buildings caught ablaze, broken equipment, and vehicles lay all around, the smell of smoke and ashes hung thick in the air…
But worse of all, dead…
Workers, sailors, marines, officers… all engulfed in their own pool of red blood, motionless, some of whom did not even have their bodies intact, or were still bathing in the blazing flames…
The smell of their blood assaulted my breathing as it took all I could muster strength not to throw up at such a nightmarish sight surrounding me…
“He… h-… Help… me…”
...!?
My body jolted into action at the sound of the voice. Thank God, at least someone is still alive!
…
But… My relief was cut in my throat and turned to horror as I came to the scene and saw the familiar face around the dorm, whose name I never learned…
"Help… me…"
His legs and left arm were gone, leaving him with a horrific bleed. I felt my heart racing as I came face to face with the carnage that lay before me. It seemed as though every ounce of life was slowly leaving his body…
But I can't give up…!
"Ho- Hold on, let me help you…" I said, as I knelt down beside him. I did all I knew to try to stop the bleeding, but it was clear that he wouldn’t live much longer without professional medical assistance.
"Hold on, just hold on…" I repeat in a whisper, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Hold still..." I took off my jacket and tied it around his waist, trying to stem the flow of blood. But as I tried to staunch the bleeding and comfort him, the reality of the situation made itself clearer with each passing second. I had no medical training, no equipment, and no way to completely stop the bleeding or treat his injuries. Even if I could, it wasn't clear that he would survive…
Moving him will only make it worse, all I could do was stay by his side, trying to ease his pain and offer him whatever comfort I could…
"Hey… what's your name, bro…?"
…
…
…
Silent was the only reply he gave me…
He's gone…
My heart went hollow as I could only stand up and let reality hit me like a ton of brisk.
My eyes brimming with tears. With each passing second, the reality of the situation sinks deeper into my mind, casting an ever-darker shadow over my thoughts…
The sight surrounding me, the deafening silence, the palpable sense of loss, the sheer weight of it all, feels like an insurmountable burden to bear. The pain and grief are overwhelming, and I can't help but feel a sense of helplessness. My eyes grow heavy as I once again collapse on my knees, unable to hold back the tears any longer…
…
…
…
I sit on the hard ground behind a large metal gate, without any sense of time…
I know I should follow my training and find the other, but I can't help but be trembling with fear, burying my head in my knees like a scared kid trying to hide from the realities outside of his room. The thought of facing the unknown outside overwhelms me, and all I can do is shut my eyes tight and block out the noise.
I know I'm supposed to be a sailor or soldier in general, a protector, yet here I am, hiding like a coward from the horrors of war. But the feeling of terror is too much to bear. The realization that my body is freezing and going numb sends a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but want to hide from this nightmare outside this gate.
I wish it was just a nightmare and I will wake up late with the Sergeant yelling at me like usual. But it's not, it is a nightmare come true and I'll never wake up from it….
My uniform was once so neat and organized an hour ago, but now it's stained with blood and rips.
At that moment, it finally clicked in my mind that this is what war really is. I always knew it was dangerous and life-threatening. But I never truly understood the extent of that danger until I found myself in the aftermath of a battlefield…
I try to blank them out, the death and the destruction. The smell of burning metal and rotting flesh is thick in the air. I am overwhelmed by the weight and magnitude of it all. It's all too much for me to process…
As I lie there, lost in my own thoughts and fears, I long for someone to drag me out of the darkness I have submerged myself in.
*Thud thud thud thud thud…*
"…!?"
As the darkness seems to close in on me, I hear a barely audible noise that catches my attention. It's the faint sound of footsteps slowly approaching me, one thud at a time.
I lift my head to look at the source of the sound, hoping it's a friend or savior coming to drag me out of this hole I've dug myself into. But as I peer into the dark corner of the room, I can't make out much except for a shadowy figure slowly closing in.
The sound of the footsteps grows louder and more frequent as the figure draws nearer, sending shudders down my spine. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I try to prepare myself for whatever may happen next.
"Who's there?" I call out with a trembling voice, trying to gather all my courage and face whatever comes my way. But all I hear is silence as the footsteps suddenly come to a halt, leaving me alone once more in the darkness.
"ahh-ahh~..."
"Huh?" was my reaction to the soft and airy yawn of the shadowy figure, catching me off guard and sending me into a state of bewilderment. Despite the eerie darkness encapsulating her figure, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I try to make sense of what's going on.
After what felt like an eternity, the figure finally steps closer to the light. As they do so, I get a clear look at who it is.
To my surprise, it was a young girl who barely appeared to be older than twelve or thirteen. The tension in my body suddenly eases, and I realize I have somehow let my guard down with this stranger.
She has quite a unique appearance. She's wearing a pair of white boots with red soles and detailed red plates like the wings. Her all-white knee-high socks are a perfect contrast to the shoes. The upper half of her outfit consists of a blue shirt with a white-centered line and red shirk, as well as a pink jacket over it.
But what really stands out are her accessories. She has a red bow and a pair of bunny ears hair tied that tighten her wavy white locks into a pair of twin tails.
If there's such a moon rabbit like they said, I'm sure she fits the bill straight away.
I take a deep breath and stand up, trying to calm myself down from the state of panic I was in just moments ago. But all I can think of is why a girl so young would be wandering around in such a dark and unfamiliar place like this.
"Hey, are you alright? What are you doing here? Do you need help?" I ask her all the common questions, trying to sound as calm and collected as I could.
"Ah…?"
Her soft, surprised voice catches me off guard, making my heart skip a beat. As she looks at me with her sleepy ruby-red eyes, I wonder if she's lost, having gotten separated from her friends or family.
I try to act as calm and collected as I could, hoping to put her at ease. The last thing I want to do is scare her, especially since she looks like she's barely out of grade school.
"Don't look outside yet!"
I exclaim, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her back from the gate. She lets out a brief, startled yelp before I quickly cover her eyes, not wanting her to see the chaos unfolding outside. I can feel her petite frame shaking in my arms, and I worry I was too forceful with my response.
"It... it's not looking good outside," I manage to say through gritted teeth, trying to control the tension in my voice. The last thing I want to do is scare her further, but she needs to know that it's not safe to go out there just yet.
I lead her away from the gate and back into the center of the room, trying to settle her down and distract her from the noise outside. But even with her eyes covered, I can feel her entire body trembling in fear. I'm not sure what to do, but the last thing I want is for her to become another victim of whatever is happening out there.
…
"Huh…?" I feel her small hand, so tiny and delicate, grasping mine with a gentle yet firm grip.
Looking down, I see her ruby-red eyes gazing up at me with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat. With a gentle tug, she leads me deeper into the room, away from the gate and the dangers outside. But as I go with her, a sense of unease washes over me. What's in this warehouse that requires such urgency? And why does she trust me enough to take me there?
Despite all my doubts, I can't help but follow her, my curiosity getting the better of me.
Finally, we reach the other end of the warehouse and step outside into the light of the day. It's a welcome change from the dimly lit warehouse, as I cover my eyes and slowly adjust them to the brightness.
This part appears to be almost untouched by the destruction, with only a few signs of the battle remaining. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that we were in a safer place now.
I look down at the girl, still clutching my hand tightly. She seems relieved to be out of the warehouse, and I can't help but feel a sense of respect and admiration for her bravery. This girl has been through a lot, and yet she still manages to keep her cool and take charge of the situation. I'm not sure what her story is, but I'm eager to find out more.
"Over there."
I follow her finger as she's pointing at the warship with a soft tune. It's a warship, a destroyer to be precise, moored by the shore as it towers above us, its guns and other weapons looking ready for battle at a moment's notice.
I look back at her questioning, wondering if she has something to do with this ship, if she's some kind of navy officer or even a pirate, for that matter.
But it can't be, she's too young…
Despite the many questions that are running through my head, however, I remain calm, not wanting to alarm her with my curiosity. I simply follow her as she leads me toward the warship, only one way to find out, I guess.
As we board the warship, a sense of unease settles in the pit of my stomach. The interior of the ship is oddly empty and devoid of activity, giving me a feeling that something's not quite right. The girl continues to lead me deeper into the ship, her tiny, delicate frame barely making a sound as we walk.
Despite my reservations, I follow her without hesitation. She seems to know this place like the back of her hand, something about her earnestness and determination to show me whatever lies within the ship's depths tells me that it's important to her. Perhaps she has some kind of personal attachment to this place, perhaps it's an important part of her past?
As we delve deeper into the ship, my imagination runs wild with possibilities. Who is this girl, and what kind of secrets does she hold within the walls of this warship? All I know for certain is that I'm not ready to find out, but my curiosity is getting the best of me. I'll just have to follow her lead and see where this journey takes me.
As we finally reach our destination, the girl pushes open a pair of iron doors and leads me inside. The instant I cross the threshold, my eyes widen in disbelief at the sight of what lies before me.
In front of me stands a massive, humanoid craft, its sleek, angular lines and powerful engines making it look like a piece of technology from some sci-fi movie. I can't take my eyes off of it, my mind trying to comprehend what's standing in front of me.
"Is that… a Tactical Fighter…?" I sputter out, still struggling to comprehend what I'm seeing. It's unlike any other TF I've ever seen before, and I can't help but feel a sense of awe at its sheer size and power.
As I'm completely mesmerized by the Tactical Fighter's striking design and enormous size, she leads me closer to the cockpit. As we approach the pilot's seat, I can't help but notice just how advanced the controls look, with countless buttons and switches arrayed before me.
For a moment, I'm completely overwhelmed, not sure if I can even begin to fathom what it takes to pilot such a beast of a machine. But before I can voice my concerns, the girl nods, gesturing toward the cockpit as if to invite me to try.
"What..!? You want me to pilot it?" I stutter out, my voice filled with disbelief and apprehension.
"But... I'm not a pilot,"
She, however, seems to be adamant, nodding her head once more and gesturing toward the cockpit, as if encouraging me to give it a try. With a heavy sigh, I take a seat in the cockpit and begin to examine the controls, hoping that I can figure out what all of these buttons and switches do.
As I look back at her, only to see the sight of her closing her eyes and clasping her hands together in a praying gesture, leaving me with a sense of awe and wonder. It almost feels as if she's communing with some kind of higher power, preparing herself for whatever lies ahead.
Then, without warning, a soft glowing light begins to emanate from her entire being, bathing her in an otherworldly glow. It's as if she's a living beacon of light, guiding me through the darkness.
As her light continues to glow brighter and brighter, I can't help but feel a sense of wonder wash over me.
Then, suddenly, the Tactical Fighter and the ship itself come to life, the engines roaring to life and the lights on the ship coming on, casting an ethereal glow on the vessel.
I can only stare in complete awe as the ship begins to hum and vibrate, the engines pulsing with life as the Tactical Fighter slowly begins to stand up from the ground. The entire scene is so surreal, so otherworldly, that it feels like I've stumbled upon something truly incredible. For a moment, I can do nothing but watch, feeling like I've been transported into a fictional world.
"Who… are you…?" I ask when her magic was dispelled.
Once again, I am lost in her ruby-red eyes as she says the word.
"Laffey…"
[08:25 AM]
…
This is it, I can almost feel my blood boiling up like hot water as I stand at the center of my bridge, feeling the heat of the moment building like a hot cauldron. The time to fight is near, I'll make sure they pay for their insolence in daring to put on such a stunt at this station again…!
But this time, it'll be different. This time, we'll show them who's the dragon of the Pacific Ocean!
Both anger and excitement coursing through my veins like a river of lava, as I ready myself for the fight to come. My heart beats rapidly, and I feel my vision becoming heightened, as if time itself is slowing down to accommodate my every move.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and I take a deep breath to steady myself. The wait is almost over, and soon, the fight will begin. But I'll be ready, ready to show them that I am the master of this vessel, the USS Pennsylvania, and no one will stand in my way and my sisters in arms.
"This is Parker abound the USS Arizona. All ships, be on standby. Cruisers, at your position. Remember, we must put up a front, do not let the enemy's fleet advance any further from our line. We must hold off until Lieutenant Jackson and his team give us the green light. All battleships, you are free to fire at will the moment they're in your range."
My radio rings the voice of our supposed commander.
Steven Parker. I have not heard of such a name before. But I suppose I just have to put up with this human at least until the battle is won.
But… What I can't get my head around is why he is on my sister's ship.
Arizona wouldn't let just anyone on her ship, much less a human. And yet here this Parker is, seemingly in charge of things. I can't help but feel a sense of suspicion at his presence, and as I listen to him give orders, a sense of unease wash over me. But I can't dwell on that now, not with a battle looming. I'll just have to put up with Parker for now and hope that we come out on top.
He better pray he doesn't end up in the ocean after we're finished with the enemy, I think to myself as I listen to Parker give orders to the rest of the fleet. He may be the commander, but this is still my ship, and there is still my sister and comrades. I'll be damned if I let him or anyone else ruin things.
The battle is upon us, and I grip the steering wheel tightly, feeling a sense of determination wash over me as I prepare to take point into the battle. With or without a commander, we will have our revenge!
[Name: Pennsylvania. Age: Unknown. Vessel: USS Pennsylvania.]
[USS Arizona - 08:26 AM]
As the captain or so of the USS Arizona, I stand with my hands firmly gripped on the steering wheel, my eyes fixed on the horizon ahead. I can feel the weight of responsibility on my shoulders, but I also know I'm not alone. My sister and my friend are by my side, all of whose ships have been through countless battles and storms. We're like a flock of falcons, always ready and willing to take on whatever lies ahead.
But for now, we sail with a stable speed, as our focus is fixed on the commander's instructions. He's the one who's in charge here, the one who'll lead us into battle. I can't help but feel a sense of curiosity about him, this stranger who's suddenly appeared on my ship.
The commander, Steven Parker. I've never heard of him before. But here he is, standing right by my side, his eyes focused ahead.
As I look over at him, I can't help but feel like there's something off about him. He's a human, after all, and I can't help but wonder what he's doing on a ship like mine.
But for now, I keep my questions to myself, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. We've got a battle ahead of us, and we need to be ready for whatever comes our way. The Pacific Ocean has always been a harsh and unforgiving battleground, and I must not let my feelings or my past stand in the way of our victory.
Whatever his backstory is or if he is worthy to be our future commander, I'll deal with it later. For now, I'll stick to being a captain and do my part to ensure victory will all of us coming back healthy.
"It's almost time. Are you ready, Miss Arizona?"
My heart skips a beat as the commander's voice reaches my ears, we're almost there, ready for the moment of truth. But just as fear threatens to overwhelm me, something inside me rallies. I force myself to put on a brave face, determined to make this battle a success.
"Yes, sir. Ready as your command," I manage to reply, though my voice comes out a little unsteady.
He gives me a nod in response, and I do my best to steady my nerves. I've been preparing for this moment ever since I was resurrected as the captain of this ship, its avatar, and now, it is time to prove myself again.
I am the reborn USS Arizona of the Pennsylvania-class ship, and I will not be a burden to my sister and friends, that is an oath I had vowed to myself.
"This is Jackson speaking, we're all locked and loaded, ready to rock n roll!"
Just as I'm about to take a deep breath and steady myself, a sudden voice comes crackling through my radio, startling me. It's Lieutenant Jackson, our most experienced TF pilot, as he excitedly laced in his voice and ready for anything.
"Understood, we do our best to distract the enemy's air power and keep their fleet from advancing. You are to cut short of their TF force and sink their carrier if you must. You have our fire support at any given notice," the commander replies, his voice calm and steady.
I take a deep breath, ready to do whatever it takes to make this battle a success. My heart starts pounding as I listen to the commander's reply, a sense of determination washing over me.
"Just to play safe, I sent you three of my morons. They know how to shoot at least."
I take a quick look out, and sure enough, there are indeed three TF units flying among our ranks. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that we have reinforcements.
"Geez, Chief, you make us sound bad to the ladies. We can do more crap than just shoot our guns, you know? In the bed."
I can't help but feel a bit of heat manage to my face as I listen to the pilots' convention, joke, and ridiculous at each other. I would have turned off my radio, but the Commander is still online.
"Ha! Bullsh*t. Save that for when you come back with your lower part intact! Well, I'll leave them to you, Parker."
"Understood, many thanks to you, lieutenant," the Commander replied with a grateful tune in his voice.
I never met the lieutenant, but I did hear of him around the base. He may seem to disregard the importance of manners and formality, but I can tell he's a true professional and is not afraid to challenge the odds. He's the kind of person who will do whatever it takes to get the job done, and that's exactly what we need right now.
Huh…?
Out of the three TF Eagle units the Lieutenant sent us, there's an odd one, it was blue compared to the standard issue paint job. I don't know much about how Tactical Fighter and their pilot do their job, but you usually don't get a custom paint job unless you are an officer or higher rank than a standard TF pilot.
But I suppose it's none of my concern, I'm a ship, not a mech pilot.
"Miss Arizona."
"Ah- yes?"
I was startled again when the commander addressed me. I am so easy to be startling, I wish I could be a little bit strong heart like my sister…
But as I turned my eyes to the commander, his brown eyes were linked to my blue ones as he gives me an assured smile, and I can't help but feel a sense of determination wash over me.
"We can do it, but I will need all of you to lend your strength," he says, looking straight into my eyes.
Suddenly the hairs on my arms rise, and my heart starts beating faster. I can feel my cheeks getting warmer, and a strange feeling starts to fill my chest.
Why do I feel so... happy, all of a sudden? Is it because of the commander's encouraging words? His kind smile? His deep, warm eyes…?
I do not know for sure what could it be, but I can't help but feel like I'm about to take on the world and anything that stands in my way with the Commander by my- our side!
He gives me a nod before turning his attention back to the horizon, preparing to issue an order over the microphone.
"Enemy's fleet in sight! All ships, full speed ahead and prepare for engagement!" he says, his voice strong and confident.
We speed up and get into battle formation. The tension is palpable. My heart is racing, and I can feel my palms sweating. This is it. The moment we've been preparing for. The moment to prove ourselves…!
*Beep beep beep!*
"Enemy TF units approaching, there must be a hundred of them!" I report as my radar picks up hostile signals.
"Let them come! All Anti-Airs, in position! Executive operation: Ember Sea!" he commands with determination and decisive in his voice.
And in an instant, the calming sea is filled with the thundering sound of automated weapons and the loud booming of gun cannons.
[Operation: Ember Sea - 08:30 AM]
"Sh*t, it started."
Jackson leads his Tactical Fighter Squad toward the horizon, a sense of urgency in his heart. He takes a deep breath before addressing his squad.
"Well, got to do our job! Alright, on the double, you morons! Move it! Move it! Let's put up one hell of a show for the ladies!"
They all raise their confirmation in one way or another. The danger that lies ahead of them is clear, but their excitement overrides their fear as they focus solely on the task at hand. This is what they've trained for, and they're ready to give it their everything to accomplish the mission.
*Beep beep beep!*
"Enemies spotted!"
"Haha! Highway to the Danger Zone! Give them hell!!!"
Jackson directs the squad while grinning ear to ear as they begin to increase their speed toward the fight.
Soon enough, the horizon is filled with the sound of gunfire.
[Operation: Ember Sea - 08:35 AM]
The thickness of battle becomes intensified, it's only had been a few minutes or so but they are already surrounded by hundreds or more of the enemy's machines and become the center of attention.
Still, they must hold the line!
"What the deal!?" a flaming red-haired woman exclaims as she hastily aims her anti-aircraft weapon at the approaching TF units.
"There are too many of them! If you shoot one down, two more come up! If you shoot two down, three more come up!" the frustration and terror clear in her voice.
If it was just regular aircraft like how she remembers back in the past, then it wouldn't be much of a problem, but no—they're facing freaking robots, fast and carrying a crap ton of weapons on them!
"Don't panic!" another ten-skin, platinum-blonde woman urges as she takes a deep breath and focuses her aim on the approaching enemy's TF.
"It doesn't matter if they're aircraft or Tactical Fighter. We just have to keep firing! Don't let them approach Arizona! Keep firing!!" her voice filled with a sense of determination.
Just as they continue to take aim and fire at the incoming TF units, one of them charges forward at high speed and launches a barrage of missiles at one of the ships.
"Agh!?"
The impact takes her all by surprise as her ship takes significant damage.
"Damn you! GO TO HELL!!"
Angrily, the twin-tailed, red-haired woman. Without hesitation, immediately turns the barrel of her cannon and -
*BANG!*
Brutally blasts it to dust!
"Honolulu, are you alright!?"
"Dammit, Brooklyn. I'm fine!"
Hot-headly, she throws back, trembling slightly as she struggles to keep her composure. But the elderly sister isn't one to take no for an answer when it is the well-being of her loved one.
"You don't look fine! Fall back to the rear!"
"Idiot! I'm staying here! As if that was enough to sink me!" The red-haired maiden, however, is not without knowing for her stubbornness and fierce determination in the face of danger.
"Tck! Fine! But you better live up to your word!"
She is the ship that bears the name of their class, Brooklyn, and she is not going to let any of her sisters fall in battle, not here, not anymore when they were given a second chance to be reborn and fight in this new era!
"Helena, you doing cool over there?" the flaming-haired woman asks her junior while keeping her eyes on her next target.
"Uh- Yes, I can manage, thank you, Phoenix. But there are too many of them, and more are coming from 3 o'clock,"
A young, mixture of blue-purple-haired girl replies softly, focusing her eyes on the approaching enemies and analyzing their next move.
Soft-spoken as she may, her voice is filled with determination and a sense of responsibility. She knows that every second counts, and she has to stay focused if they are to come out victorious.
"All ships, maintain your position! If you take too much damage, fall back immediately!"
The commander's voice crackled from their radio.
This battle is far from over, and they'll need all the experience they got from their previous life to get through this. But she's not one to back down from a challenge. She's trained for this, and she's ready to give it her all to prove herself in front of her senior-class ships!
*BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!*
Suddenly, her radar beeps loudly with warnings as multiple spearheads are heading for them with heavy armament. The pods on their shoulder spurt open and -
"Incoming!"
The air is filled with the streaming roar of explosive projectiles, barrage after barrage raining down like a storm of blazing arrows.
Quickly, the light cruisers begin firing their anti-aircraft guns, trying to shoot down as many missiles as possible. One after another explosions filled the air as the point of their bullets crashed their marks.
But the sheer number still managed to get it through, and raining down on their vessels it's nearly impossible to destroy all of the projectiles!
*BAM! BOOM! KABOOM! BOOOM!*
Explosion after explosion starts to shake the ships, and fires begin to envelop multiple parts of their vessels as they struggle to keep control as the chaos around them intensifies.
"This is Parker to USS Brooklyn, what is your condition!?"
The sound of a radio crackles through the smoke-filled air, as the voice of the Commander comes through crackling, his voice filled with concern while the sounds of battle rage in the background.
She's coughing for a bit before getting enough clear breath to speak.
"We took some damage, but we can still hold the line for a bit longer, however, some spearheads had blitzed through our defense. Please be careful, Commander, and how much longer do we need to hold until going for the offensive?"
Her hands firmly grip the steering wheel of her ship, a bit of blood dripping down her forehead as she struggles to keep her focus on the task at hand.
"I did not get news from Jackson yet! Don't worry about us, we'll do what we can to hold our ground, but If you feel you can't hold it any longer, then fall back to the station! Do not get sunk! I repeat, do not get sunk!"
She can hear the concern for the safety of those under his command is clear in his voice.
She nods, her eyes focused on the enemy as she prepares herself for the worst. She's not going to let anything get in the way of protecting her sisters and the fleet, and she's ready to fight for it!
"Helena!"
Her eyes widen as she hears the desperate call from Phoenix.
Helena gives no response to the concerning call as Brooklyn turns her sight to see smoke coming out from the USS Helena's bridge.
"Helena! Are you alright!? Say something dammit!" Phoenix calls out again, her voice filled with a sense of urgency and concern.
Brooklyn knows they need to act fast. They need to do something, and they need to do it fast!
But the enemies have no order to show mercy, as they begin to rush in for the onslaught when the ships' anti-airs are weakening.
The Brooklyn-class sisters now found themselves struggling to maintain their air defense. With some of their weapon systems becoming unavailable by the previous impact, it becomes far more difficult to try to defend themselves against the fast-moving pace of humanoid craft that continues to rain bullets down on them.
At this rate…!
"Helena!"
Their eyes widen in horror as they witness multiple enemy crafts decided to switch their attention and break through the line.
Heading straight for the defenseless USS Helena with Helena still on it motionless!
"Helena!!"
Brooklyn yells desperately, her voice filled with a sense of urgency and dread.
But then -
*RATATATA! TATATA! BANG!!*
Out of nowhere, as fast as lightning, it appears, and weapons blazing as bullets shredding its enemies apart!
The three watch in blemish as all the hostile crafts explored as one the second it appeared.
But their shock and fear soon turned to relief and gratitude as their realized it was an ally, a blue US F-15 Eagle as it had come to Helena's protection…!
As Helena slowly opened her eyes, she struggled to adjust her senses. She looked around, taking in her surroundings, but her eyes were still strained from the damage.
She couldn't make out much, but she could see a faint shape of a blue machine floating in front of her damaged bridge.
It was as if the blue machine was there to protect her from something…
But the Eagle isn't done yet as it's lining up its weapons and having its thruster burst accelerating forward with incredible speed, rushing for the enemy's squad.
They watch as the blue one blast forward with stunning speed, breaking through the enemy's rank.
It efficiently evaded the enemy's fire and returned the blaze with high-powered rifles, unleashing a storm of bullets and tearing through its enemies' armor.
As the blue Eagle engages the incoming enemies with impressed gunslinger skill, they rush towards the machine with swords and guns drawn. But the blue one responds swiftly by firing off an impressive volley of grenade rounds that explode in a blinding light, smashing through their armor with explosive force and leaving them no chance to recover!
Three more bursts from the smoke and charged toward the Eagle with their swords raised high and ready to strike all three directions!
*Clang!!*
Only for the blue one to respond swiftly and block the incoming blows with its guns!
With a quick flick of its wrist, it activates its back gun and delivers an explosive blast to the enemy behind it before they could strike. Then with a strong push, without missing a beat and following the rhythm, it breaks the gun-sword lock and brutally, rapidly shoots the other two straight in their cockpits at point blank!
"Holy…"
Brooklyn's mind is in a state of utter shock, incapable of fully comprehending the magnitude of the destruction before her as she stands in her ship, frozen in fear and amazement, her eyes wide in disbelief as she watches the blue Tactical Fighters tear through their enemies with ruthless and merciless efficiency, completely disregarding the pilots inside the crafts.
It's an intense and brutal display of power, speed, and skill. The sisters can hardly believe that these machines were capable of such destruction. They never knew that a battle between these machines could be so terrifying, so quick, so simple. It's kill or be killed.
She can barely believe what she's seeing. It's as if the pilots have achieved a mastery over their machine that goes beyond mere skill and into the realm of inhuman strength and coordination.
It moves with such agility and swiftness and grace that is almost supernatural, the flaming spark of its weapons turning everything it touches into a shower of sparks and flames.
The air surrounding her seems to shake and tremble as if it's she was standing on the ground, she feels as if she's being pulled into the violence and mayhem. The noise is deafening with the sound of guns blasting, filling the air with the stench of burning metal and gunpowder. Filled her mind with visions of the sky painted with the red of fire and the blue of lightning. It's a frenzy of motion and energy, a ballet of destruction that leaves her and her sisters feeling both terrified and awestruck…
Then silent…
The silence that follows is almost deafening as if to emphasize the weight of what they've just witnessed.
The sun shines down on the blue machine, casting it in a ghostly silhouette, creating a menacing and awe-inspiring image. Like a figure straight out of a nightmare, it stands tall, as the last of its enemy falls to the depths beneath the watery surfaces, weapons still smoking and overheating from the battle.
An angel, almost as if the angel of death has descended from the heavens. And yet, it is all too real, a testament to the power and destruction that can be unleashed by the smallest movement of a finger.
They are once again being granted a sense of wonder and fear, a mixture of emotions that is difficult to put into words.
On the right hand, Tactical Fighters can be such a weapon to be reckoned with, a symbol of the greatness of technology and the imperilment that come with it.
As they stand there, staring in awe at the steel soldier before them, they now know the brave new world they found themselves reborn into is truly an amazing one and yet it's also inhabited by the power of man-made glory through the use of weapons and the horrors such weapons can provide to the era of warfare…
With the fight settled down from their end, Phoenix has her ship near the damaged USS Helena and leaps up to its bridge.
"Helena! Are you alright?!" Phoenix rushes over to her, asking worriedly.
Helena lets out a shaky breath, still clearly disoriented from the explosion.
"Y-Yes, I… I'm okay, but my ship took damage to the bridge. I don't think I'm in any condition to fight anymore. I'm sorry..." She replies saddened.
"It's okay, Helena. Fall back to the rear and to the station. Can your ship still move?" Brooklyn speaks through the radio.
Helena nods weekly, almost on the verge of tears.
"Just a bit, Brooklyn. I'm sorry…" she says, still shaken from the encounter.
It was clear that Helena was upset about the damage to her ship and the fight they had just gone through…
"It's no big deal, we'll handle things from here, ok kiddo?" Phoenix says as she rugs Helena's hair.
The battle is yet to be over and they can't afford to let their guard down, but they also knew that Helena needed to rest and recover.
"Ok…" she complied and started to have her ship moving back slowly…
But as she did so, she couldn't help but turn her eyes back to the mystery blue machine soldier, as it kept a lookout with Honolulu. The power it displayed was incredible, its flier must be a professional ace pilot…
She can't help but wonder who is the knight inside the machinery titan is and what they're like…
Say Knight keeps a steady grip on his cockpit's levers as his eyes scan the horizon with a wary eye, he takes a moment to reflect on the battle so far. He had taken out the enemies that attacked the left wing of the commander's fleet, preventing further damage to the Brooklyn-class ships. However, one St. Louis class, the USS Helena, had taken some damage to the bridge.
He had gotten there quickly enough to prevent the enemy from sinking the vessel. And as he takes a moment to analyze the situation, he can't help but feel confused by what he is sensing from the enemy's TF units.
He had taken down several of the Japanese Type-94 Shiranui, but he can't seem to get a sense from them or lack of any. Unlike the first wave of the Japanese version of the F-4 Phantom, the Type-77 F-4JX Gekishin that attacked the station, which was piloted by humans, he can't sense anything from those Shiranui. It's almost as if they were empty or controlled by AI.
While he isn't sure if his sixth sense ability can be counted as a blessing or burden, on the one hand, it has helped him throughout his battles, but on the other hand, it can be a pain in the head if he overthinks things too much.
Nevertheless, he needs to keep his guard up and report his findings to the Lieutenant later.
"This is USS Brooklyn to F-15E Strike Eagle, do you copy?"
His radio crackles to life, and a woman's voice comes through loud and clear.
"Copy loud and clean. What is your status, Ma'am? I'm not coming too late, am I?"
She was taken aback by the young voice of the pilot from the other end of the line, judging by his voice he must be no older than a teenager…
"Uh- No, it was timely, thank you for your assistance. If not for you, Helena would be…"
Her sentences trail off as she images the worst…
"We are still quite new when it comes to engaging with Tactical Fighters. It's not quite the same as in the past…"
He is confused by what she means by "in the past," but decided to keep silent and speak again.
"That seems to be the last of them from here. I have to go back and assist the commander. Is that ok with you?" the younger pilot asks.
"Yes, of course! We will keep our eyes on here. Again, thank you very much for your assistance," Brooklyn says as she does nothing to hide the gratitude in her voice.
As the young pilot returns to where the sound of battle still rings, Brooklyn, Phoenix, and Honolulu watch him go. The blue TF has managed to keep the left-wing safe, which was a major feat for them. The knight had shown incredible skill and determination, and they were all grateful for his help.
Despite the urgency of the situation, she takes a moment to reflect on what had just happened. She realizes that they are not alone in this war and that they have allies who are just as skilled and determined as they are. She also knows that they will need all the help they can get, as the lane ahead will be challenging.
But to think that such a young boy like him would pilot such a killing machine…
She shook her head and clear her mind of unnecessary all thoughts.
As the TF disappears into the distance, turns to her sisters and takes a deep breath. She knows that they need to be ready for whatever comes their way and that they will need all their skills, experiences, and willpower to make it through this world.
Whatever challenges lay ahead, they will face them together as a band of sisters, and they will face them head-on with all their might as the Brooklyn-class sisters!
"I hope Lieutenant Jackson is ok…" says the young knight as he comes back to assist the commander.
[Operation: Ember Sea - 08:40 AM]
"Sh*t, this isn't ok…"
Says the Lieutenant as he surveys the damage to his machine.
His orange F-15 Eagle is missing one leg, making it difficult to maintain attitude and balance, but he can make it…
Despite the urgency of the situation, he found himself chuckling lightly as he felt the excitement begin to creep into his veins.
As he scans the horizon for his opponent, his eyes are locked on the red, seemingly outdated Japanizing F-4 Phantom, holding its blade up like a samurai warrior.
It's most likely a commanding unit or an ace…
Despite the age of his opponent's machine, Jackson knows that he needs to be ready for anything. He takes a deep breath and resolves to face whatever challenge comes his way head-on, no matter the odds.
With a sense of determination and purpose, the lieutenant readied himself for the dual as he gripped his controller tightly.
In that brief instant, the world seemed to fade around Jackson and his opponent. They both stood facing each other, ready to engage in a dual, and ready to do whatever it took to come out on top. It would be a battle of wits, skills, and determination. Swords versus guns, warrior versus soldier.
What would be the outcome? Who would emerge victorious in this epic duel? As their machines seemingly stood still in midair, the tension in the atmosphere was palpable. They both knew that this was a moment that would define their lives, one that they had to give it their all.
Despite the seriousness of the moment, Ryan Jackson couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. He knew that this was a once-in-a-while opportunity to test his edge and courage ever since he decided to take the path of a pilot. He knew that he was facing a worthy opponent, and that victory would be sweetest when earned through hard work and determination.
*Badum…!*
The world seemed to stand still for a moment as their machines charged toward each other at top speed, ready to end this in just one strike. Their hearts beating loudly, their determination burning brightly, they knew that this was a moment that would define their lives. They were both ready for whatever lay ahead, no matter the outcome.
But instead of the explosion of violence that they both expected from the other end, the two machines go past each other and begin to engage in a smooth rhythm, but intense, game of cat and mouse.
They both knew that they had to remain focused and determined and that one mistake would cost them the win. So, they soared across the horizon with the sound of their assault cannons echoing through the air, each one waiting for the other to slip up.
At that moment, the world became a stage, and the two of them were the actors in the dance of death. The tension in the air was tangible, and they both knew that they had to give it their all if they wanted to come out on top.
Despite the seriousness of the moment, they couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. They knew that this was the moment they had been waiting for, a chance to fight a worthy opponent and that victory would be sweetest when earned through hard work, skill, and determination.
So, with their hearts beating loudly, their determination burning brightly, and their weapons at the ready, they soared across the horizon, ready to face each other in a battle of wits, skills, and determination.
But generally wide, he just needs to keep his opponent entertaining enough to buy time for the rest of his men to finish their job, he has confidence that they can pull it off without him around.
Those were his thoughts as his heart raced with the thrill of battle course through his veins. With swift reflexes, he blocked his opponent's sword slash with the knife in his hand, pushing it aside before trying to shoot with his assault cannon. But his opponent was too quick for him, quickly evading backward before countering with rear cannons of their own.
His survival instinct kicked in as he shifted his stance, ready to engage in a high-stakes dance with his opponent. Bullets streamed past him, threatening to tear him and his machine apart, but he remained focused, and determined to survive.
Despite how he usually acts, he decided to keep a cool head, calm, and collected as he drift through the air, knowing that one wrong move could be fatal.
He remained focused on his mission and the job that needed to be done, he was willing to give it his all, and he was determined to make it out of this situation alive!
They got in a blade lock again as both pointed their rear cannon at each other's cockpit, both found themselves in a game of chicken. Knowing if either of them took a shot, the other would follow and it all will end in a death draw, so they remained locked in a tense staredown, each waiting for the other to make a move.
"You're good, American…!"
He couldn't help but grin as he heard a female voice coming from the red Japanizing Phantom.
"Aye? You're not too shabby yourself, baby!" He couldn't resist the urge to reply cockily to her. Smugingly grinning.
With that one simple sentence, the tension between the two pilots seemed to tune up slightly as they continued to push their machines to the limit in a high-stakes battle.
A sense of excitement washed over him. He looked upon his opponent with newfound respect, knowing that he was not just facing a man, but a woman with incredible skills. Just his kind of woman and he loved every second of it, but this certainly isn't the place.
As their blades clashed together in a symphony of steel, the tension between Ryan and his female opponent reached a fever pitch. They both remained focused on each other, each waiting for the other to make a move. But after what seemed like an eternity of staring each other down, both sides finally broke the blade lock and moved backward.
It seemed as though the world had come to a standstill, and for a moment, it was as though all noise and chaos simply ceased to exist. The only thing that mattered was this battle between two skilled fighters.
But with a smirk, Lieutenant Jackson refused to let victory just slip by. He knew that he still had a mission to do and a team depending on him. So, he wasn't going to give up without at least having some fun.
"Don't get cocky, I made sure you get an honorable warrior's death with my sword," she declared as she swung her blade to the side in a challenging manner.
He couldn't help but chuckle at her words, his eyes locked onto hers.
"At least take me out on a date first, I hate dying unfulfilled!" he replied, a cocky, craze grin spreading across his face as he held up his gun and knife, accepting the challenge.
It seemed that no matter what, the Lieutenant was determined to make this fight a memorable one. And he was willing to do whatever it took to get the job done, even if it meant abandoning his life against a worthy opponent. He was ready to give it his all, and he was prepared to make the most of this moment in time.
[Name: Ryan Jackson - Nationality: American - Age: 32 - Rank: 2nd Lieutenant - Squad: Jack Striker (Leader) - TF: McDonnell Douglas F-15 Eagle]
"Does it even matter now!? Let's rock and roll!"
[Operation: Ember Sea - 08:45 AM]
*Boom!!!*
As the master of her ship, Arizona carefully aimed the barrel of her ship's cannons toward the enemy fleet and fired upon the approaching enemy ships!
"Destroyers at six o'clock, Battleship Six and Five, sunk them down! Don't let them get the chance to launch torpedoes!"
"Yee-haw! Get your spirits up, Oklahoma! Let's show them how way off their skills are!"
"A hop-killin' time, sister! Bantry Bay shipgirls are the best! Fire~!"
*BOOM!!!*
The common, yet practical Nevada-class ships focused their aim as he instructed and sunk their assigned enemies with well-land accuracy shells!
"Don't faint! Battleships Four and Three, aim for the main guns! Take them out!"
Her eyes light up with irritation, as she loads a heavy round with a fierce glare.
"Witness true firepower and go to hell!!"
"Oi! Wait for me, Big Sis! Reach for further waters~!"
*BOOM!!!*
Together, heavy-caliber shells burst ejected from the barrels of the two Tennessee-class battle vessels, instantly nailing their targets and taking out not only their enemy's main guns but also their vessels with a single, one-shot-kill off the adversary's vessels!
The power and precision displayed by the sisters are nothing short of impressive, and their enemies are left in utter defeat.
"Commander, get down!"
His eyes widened with an alert at Arizona's warnings as a TF blitzed through their air defense and charged at them with its weapons blazing!
"As if!"
Fortunately, one of their supporting Eagles came and took the hit for them.
"Sh*t!" but it ends up as a price as it takes the damage and falls to water surfaces!
"Strike-8, do you read!? Strike-8, response!!" He cries over the comm, hoping for a response from the pilot.
But the enemy isn't one to show mercy, the enemy unit makes a return with its weapons raised again. She desperately tries to shoot it down, but the humanoid crafts are known for their swiftness, and her ship simply isn't designed for this task!
"Arizona!"
Her eyes widened at death gazes, the enemy having their weapons pointed at her bridge. She had failed, she-
*BOOM!*
…!
But it can even pull the trigger of its weapons, it was blown out of existence by a ship's cannon shell.
She slowly turned her sights to the side and found the smoke coming from the heated 14-inch barrel of the lead ship, the USS Pennsylvania.
She shot down a fast-paced craft with a slow, heavier main cannon…
"Sister…" tears of relief and happiness begin to form in the corner of her eyes.
"No time for tears, Arizona, it is time to fight!"
She nods at her sister's words and dying her eyes, swallowing her fear and focusing on her mission. With her sister by her side, her friends, and the commander, she will prevail!
"Strike-8, do you copy…?"
With a heavy heart, he attempts to contact the lost Eagle for the final time, praying, hoping against hope to receive a reply…
…
"Copy, Commander…"
After a few tense seconds, a response finally came through the comm line, sounding faint and strained, but it was one he couldn't ask for more.
"But I guess I'm out for the game… The rest is up to you, sir."
"Understood, I'll have a ship to pick you up."
He exhales slowly as he does nothing to hide the relief evident in his tone. He knew that if it was otherwise, he wouldn't be able to face the Lieutenant and tell him that he lost one of the pilots…
"Remember what old man Jackson said? Keep your lower part intact, or you'll never get laid after this, buddy!"
This time, it was Strike-9 who voiced the comment as he and the other blue Eagle soared by the USS Arizona.
"Take a look and learn, Rookie. I'll show you how much better I am to old man Jackson!"
"Umm, sure, I like to learn from my senior…"
Parker found himself surprised upon hearing the voice of say said rookie who seemingly pilot the blue F-15 Eagle. He must be young…
"Don't drag the kid into it! You're not even been here in more than a year! If anything, he should from me!"
"Haha! Say that again, your robot didn't have its lower part anymore! It's on your repair bill, man!"
Commander can't help but chuckle to himself as the pilots begin to joke and rib around themselves while engaging the enemies. It gets to shows the companionship the pilots had for one another. The excitement they're found in the face of danger boils their blood and increases their desire to survive, be it just so they can find some form of entertainment later…
Together, they quickly make short work on the remaining Japanese Tactical Fighter, he can see the enemy's airpower is diminishing, he can't help but believe that this could mean the Lieutenant's team is making progress. The faster the both of them finish here, the better. It's crucial for the safety of their mission and the fleet as a whole.
"All ships, continue fighting! Victory is in our hands! We can do it! Together, we will prevail!"
With this, the fleet stays vigilant and keeps their formation tight. They still have a way to go until they can declare victory, but he said, victory is in sight! Their efforts will be smiled upon by the goddess of war and named as heroes of the United States of America!
[08:47 AM]
…
Here, he stood like a statue, still and silent...
Despite the modern technology surrounding him, the mysterious man stood tall in the center of the bridge, his eyes fixed on the unfolding battle in the distance. Clad in a combination of traditional Japanese second world war uniform and ancient warrior's armor, his body seemed to be a strange mix of old and new, bridging the gap between the past and the present.
The demonic Hannya mask covering his eyes added an eerie, otherworldly air to the man's already intense presence. His unfailing gaze was sharp and focused, as though he was absorbing everything around him. Despite the modernity of his surroundings, there was something truly ancient and timeless about the man, a sense of power and authority that seemed to emanate from within.
A long and sharp katana hung by his side, sheathed but ready. It is a tool to kill his enemies, but it is also a symbol of nobility and honor.
With a sense of calmness and power that could only be described as otherworldly, the mysterious man remained still, almost as if frozen in time. He didn't move, he didn't speak, he simply watched as the battle unfolded on the horizon.
"Daimyo-sama."
A Japanese officer stands behind the mysterious man, kneeling with a respectful and humble demeanor.
The officer's voice exudes a sense of reverence and awe as he addresses the man, treating him as though he were a noble of the highest caliber. It's a moment of respect and deference that shows the power and influence of the mysterious man, and the honor and tradition that surround him.
The mysterious air of calmness surrounding the man, his armor, and his weapons, is only further enhanced by the respect and protocol that the Japanese officer shows in his presence. It's a moment that leaves a lasting impression on those who witness it, a representation of power, honor, and tradition that showcases the depth and elegance of Japanese culture.
"Feel free to speak as you might, officer." The masked man says as he continues to watch over the battle.
"Yes, my lord. It appears to me the enemies are making an effort to attack our nation's fleet, should we lend an assist?" the officer asks.
"No, we have no such order. We are simply here to observe for a moment, we have our own mission that acquires our attention."
The officer was taken aback by the mysterious masked man's response, but before he could question the noble, the mystery man continued.
"Moreover, that fleet is manned by soulless automatic machines that our government seems to favor as a weapon that replaces the value of true soldiers. These machines are no substitute for the true warrior spirit and I will not sacrifice my men to defend such an honorless piece of equipment. Let them become ocean waste."
The officer couldn't help but feel a sense of tension and unease as he listened to the masked man's blunt response. It was clear that the mysterious noble held a strong opinion about the use of automated weapons, and was not afraid to voice it.
Without moving a muscle, he stood still like a statue of steel, the masked man fixed his attention on the battle, his gaze fixed on the distant forces, observing it like a true General.
The officer couldn't help but notice the power and authority that the masked man radiated, his face was hidden behind a demonic Hannya mask. It was a moment that left a lasting impression on the officer.
"As a soldier, I am not one to question the motive of our government, but the use of automated weapons has been a topic that debated around our military for quite some time now," the officer finally spoke up.
"In some ways, they can be more effective than human soldiers and reduce the cost of manpower, but in others, they lack the emotional intelligence and intuition that make us human. It's a complex issue, and one that I'm sure will be discussed for years to come."
A reminder of the complexities and nuances of the world, and the various views and opinions that exist within it.
"But soldiers are not machines."
"They are capable of various emotions, and from those emotions, they learn to value the joy of one life and see the sadness of war."
"Do not discard the emotions that make you human, last you become no different than a soulless war machine."
The general's words echoed with wisdom and understanding, his words were met with a new sense of respect and gratitude as the officer bowed his head deeply.
"Yes, my lord. Your words will be inscribed upon our honors and hearts!"
His words carried weight and authority, reminding the present of the importance of preserving the humanity and emotions of soldiers, even in the face of war. It was a reminder of the need for compassion and empathy in the midst of conflict, and the importance of remembering the human cost of war.
It was a moment that would be remembered by all who were present on the bridge, a moment that would reinforce the mystery surrounding the General and the wisdom he seems to possess.
"We'll wait until 2nd Lieutenant Tsukuyomi returns and continue with our cause without further delay." the General maintained his order.
"Yes, my lord!"
[Operation: Ember Sea - 08:50 AM]
Most of the enemy vessels were already at their limit despite the advantage in numbers, the commander's fleet continued to efficiently counter the adversary force with Parker overseeing the process.
Despite his age and being just recently appointed as a naval commander, he had already proven himself to be more than capable of leading a fleet and directing the United States vessels to the best of their capacity depending on their class and type.
Victory is in sight, just a little more and they can put an end to this battle!
However…
"Commander, the enemy's fleet is beginning to charge their cause at ours!"
"Was there any sight of reinforcement?!" he asks as he continues to grip upon the communication module and fixes his eyes to the situation.
"No, sir. They're going at us head-on!" she replies, her voice tinged with surprise at the enemy's bravery.
"They plan to go down fighting…!?"
The commander's eyes widen at the thought of such a foolish strategy, unable to fathom the enemy's bravery and determination.
But before he can continue to admit their courage, the radio crackles.
"This is Strike-2 of Jack Striker squadron to USS Arizona. Commander, the enemy is charging at you!"
"We can see that, how are things on your end? Where is Lieutenant Jackson?" Parker listens intently as his attention shifts to the ship's communication module.
"He's busy fighting the enemy's units! We did our job and destroyed a large number of their Fighter units, but the rest of the others are ignoring us and are heading for your fleet! It seems they're aiming for the flagship and will fight to the death!"
…
"Commander, what should we do...?" she asks, a sense of concern etched on her face.
"Try to send a signal, see if we can talk some sense to them." His voice was firm and steady.
…
…
…
Sadly, after a couple of seconds of trying, she shakes her head in disappointment.
"It's no use, I can't get through them…"
The commander's expression turns grim, his teeth gripped tightly as he now understands the gravity of his decision.
"Then we have no choice. All ships continue firing! Do not let them come any closer! Jack Striker, corners all of them into one spot with their fleet, we'll crush them all as one!"
It was a crucial order to carry out, but it was one that must be done, as all presentive warships turned their guns, torpedoes, and cannon barrels. It is a moment of determination and resolve, as they are faced with a determined enemy who bravely charges to their inevitable demise.
"This is the naval commander of the United States of America, Steven Parker. I'll give you one last chance to reply to this message: Surrender or Complete Elimination. Response, now!"
…
…
…
Once again, the creeping silence was the only reply to his demand. He can't even a single word or a breath from the other side of the call as if there wasn't a single soul on those war vessels…
"Tsk, so be it…!"
…
She turns her attention back to the man, she catches the sound of him muttering something under his breath, a quiet prayer perhaps…
"...!"
His eyes shoot open, with all the determination reflecting in their depths. The moment is now!
"FIRE!!!"
*BOOM!!!*
All as one, the sound of the thunderous cannon fire echoed, reverberating endlessly across the horizon, drowning out all other sounds all known existence sound there could be.
*BOOM!!!*
The air was thick with smoke and dust, making it impossible to see or breathe. It was a moment of pure destruction, as they released their frustration and emotions with each impacting of their cannon barrels. Deafening explosions leave trails of chaos in their wake.
*BOOM!!!*
There was no room for mercy or compassion, all there was to it was a moment of pure destruction. They did not stop and continued firing. unrelenting in their grip for victory. The hearts may be steeled, but the inevitable had been decided upon the firing order.
*BOOM!!!*
The reverberating sound of the heating barrels goes on and on like musical instruments, a beautiful performance of power as the Valkyrie sang their song of warcry and the goddess of war guided the path of those who seek victory.
*BOOM!!!*
It was as if the very air itself was being torn apart, as they continued to rain down their punishment.
*BOOM!!!*
The moment would be remembered by all who witnessed it, as a moment of raw power and resilience. It was a clear demonstration of the devastation that war could bring, and the need for careful planning and quick action in the face of danger. It was a moment that showed bravery and resilience, and determination to stand firm in the face of adversity. It was a moment that reinforced the gravity of conflict and its far-reaching consequences…
*BOOM!!!*
"Cease fire! Cease fire! All ships, cease fire!"
His voice was barely audible amid the deafening roar of cannon fire. It was almost drowned out by the constant thunderous boom and the smell of black smoke and gunpowder.
Finally, the firing began to cease, replaced by an ominous, somber silence that hung in the air. It was a silent type of deafness, where the only sounds were the cracking of still-heating barrels and the rustle of ashes…
…
…
…
But at last, the silence was shortened, as daylight rays began to peek through the veil of gunpowder and smoke.
But as the blackness lifted, however, what greeted them was not the familiar blue sea or the unlimited skyline…
The ocean was a sea of fire, smoke, and destruction washes over the waves, the aftermath of a fierce battle fought on these very waters. The ocean is a graveyard, a graveyard of shattered vessels and sunken ships, their blackened remains floating lifeless at the surface, their names lost in the dark. Thick plumes of black smoke rise up to the sky, obscuring the horizon…
There was no sign of life, no sound, and only the ominous silence and the smell of burning metal and wooden. The broken shapes of scorched irons were scattered across the blue surface, making it impossible to recognize which part belonged to which ship.
A lone white flag, adorned with a burning red sun, was once a symbol of honor, bravery, and values. Now it flies weakly in the blaze, lost and alone as the flaming body of the mighty battleship sinks slowly, inevitably…
This brutal aftermath is a stark, gut-wrenching reminder of the immense and profound impact that war has on all those involved. For the inexperienced, naive, and wide-eyed, it serves as a sobering reminder of the path they have chosen to tread. They realize the gravitas of the decisions they have made and the weight of the burden they now carry.
However, for those whose weary eyes from the age long gone, this is nothing more than an entry in their long and tumultuous service history, a testament to the sacrifices they had made, the battles they had fought, the lives they had lost and the lives they had taken. They have seen and experienced too much to be rattled by this sight.
Still, even for them, it serves as a sobering and heartbreaking reminder of the toll that war takes on all those engaged in it…
…
…
…
He didn't say a word, nor found the strength to speak. All he can do is continue to silently let the regret and sadness sink into his core as he beheld the carnage before him…
"Commander… Steven…"
All she could do was simply continue to watch as he stood still in complete silence, with no word to speak, no order to make, and no eye contacts are made between the two of them…
She looked down at her own hands. They were shaking, and with these very hands, she had pulled the trigger…
She had pulled the trigger and aimed for the flagship, delivering the final blow and ending the battle…
She did it, she had finally fought back, to fight for her home, nation, and friends, and to be strong enough to stand by her sister's side, things that she would never be able to do in the past…
But at what cost to prove it…? She'd become a killer, a war machine, just like how she was originally created to be, a battleship…
A single drop of tear fell to the palm of her hands, then another, then more.
Tears continued to fall until she had no choice but to bury her eyes in her hands as her breath shortened and her heart tightened painfully…
As her tears continue to fall silently, a warm hand reaches out and gently lifts her chin.
A gentle, yet reassuring, and for a moment she feels a sense of safety amid the overwhelming emotion she's feeling. She slowly opens her eyes to him, they become red as her makeup smeared across her face.
With a napkin in his hand, he gently wipes away the tears that fell on her cheeks and slowly wipes away the makeup from around her eyes.
His touch is tender, and for a moment she feels herself becoming vulnerable, losing control of her body as she leans into him. She buries herself into his shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort in his arms. It's a moment of pure vulnerability, where all of her emotions become overwhelming, and all she can do is release it all into his embrace.
And that is all he can do.
He's a commander now, this battle isn't the last and it's certainly to be the start of more to come. He had a duty to do, and that is to guide and watch over those under his command and lead them to victory.
There are many unknowns he has yet to understand, why was he chosen for this task? What could have led to this battle? Or who is this mystery angel in his arms?
He is yet to receive the answers but until then, he will continue to do his duty and face the challenges with his honor as a soldier, and a man.
[09:05 AM]
"All ships, and TF units. The battle is over, and Operation: Ember Sea is a success, I repeat, Operation: Ember Sea is a success. Excellent work everyone, and thank you for your coordination."
"But we couldn't let our guard down yet, please, begin passing to scan the area and check for injuries or casualties. After we finished here, let's go back home, everyone. Parker, out."
I listen instantly to the commander over the communication, I am already on my way to check the surroundings even before the order, and my suspicion hasn't failed me.
Broken parts and metallic wastes of the enemy's fleet scattered across the burning surfaces that had become their grave, and yet, no bodies can be found amid the watery graveyard, not a single corpse…
They are likely automatic weapons, but I never heard of large-sized automatic weapons such as warships before. Could it be the Japanese or the entire global new project for naval warfare?
I suppose I just have to report this to the Lieutenant later, and that's part of the reason I'm flying out here.
"There you are…" I say as I found myself smiling.
There he sat on top of the torso of his badly damaged orange Eagle, with his cheek resting on his fist like someone who seemingly bore out of their mind.
He ignores me even as my Strike begins to lower down next to his damaged TF, just hovering slightly above the surface.
"Keep you waiting, Lieutenant? Your mech seems like it was in better shape a while ago." I say as I open the cockpit. I couldn't help but laugh a little, wondering how he ended up in this state.
"Yeah yeah, you can say I met my match. In more than one way." He says as he takes my hand and gets inside.
"How so?" I ask, curious about what he meant as I seal the cockpit and begin to have the Strike pick up its orange senior by the remaining arm as we fly back to the rest.
"Let's just say I have a thing for women that can kick my ass." His smile turns into a small laugh, and I can't help but follow lightly.
It's clear that he's someone who isn't afraid to speak his mind, and I find myself liking him more and more as a leader and senior pilot. I can't wait to hear more about his adventures as we make our way back to the commander's fleet.
Wait…
"What…?"
What does he mean by that…???
[Operation: Ember Sea; Success at 06/07/1985 09:00 AM - Commanding Officer; Steven Parker.]
*...!*
What!?
What is this feeling…!?
"What's the matter, kid? What with the tense up?"
The lieutenant was saying something, but I am raising my senses to the highest, trying to pinpoint just where this strange feeling I'm having.
Like two of the same kind of signal clashing with each other. Someone like me…
*...!*
There it is!
*...*
*break!*
"...!?"
No way, they broke my connection…!?
Who is that person…?
To Be Continued.
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Se7en: feel free to ask me anything you like about, and thank you for reading!