"One missed the mark?"
Samejima's muttering sounded surprisingly audible to those present in the CIC and FIC of the Hyūga. Noticing the stares of those around him, he continued. "Hitting the waterline was a miss. That thing (X) only modified the terminal guidance program of the ASM-2, so it won't penetrate the armor of the vital parts. Originally, it was supposed to aim for the funnel."
"Even if you hit the funnel directly from above, it won't reach the engine room."
At the words of the fleet staff, Samejima frowned slightly.
"I know that much. My target is the exhaust gas. The exhaust gas from the steam turbine's boiler gets hot. I was planning to make a hole at the base of the funnel and scatter it onto the upper deck and superstructure. It won't sink the ship, but it can restrict human activity like damage control. If you want to stop the exhaust gas, you have no choice but to stop the ship."
Whether that strategy was truly effective or not, it was quite a devious plan. The gazes of those around Samejima changed slightly. The parties involved were unaware, but that miss changed the fate of the Grade Atlastar.
. . .
Bragston's legs gave way, and he fell on his backside with his crotch wet. With a long military career, Bragston knew this wasn't the first time, but it had been a while.
It was understandable. While tracking the trajectory of the SSM through the telescope, he found it shunting beneath the telescope's field of view, and in the next moment, an explosion echoed through the rear gunnery command post. Moreover, the secondary gun turret, which should have been below him, was thrown into the air leaving flames in its wake. Bragston instantly understood what had happened. It was one of the anticipated scenarios: a detonation in the ammunition magazine.
The elevator hole of the secondary gun turret was one of the few openings into the vital parts. It was known in advance that if a powerful explosive detonated inside the secondary gun turret, the shockwave of the high-temperature gas generated by the explosion could reach the ammunition magazine through the elevator hole. However, it hadn't been considered a significant problem. The reason was the accuracy of the ship's guns. Hitting an enemy ship with the main guns was challenging enough. Aiming for the secondary gun turret was like aiming for a hole-in-one in golf. It wasn't impossible, but it was considered a needless worry. However, it had become a reality. Bragston, while thinking about what a stroke of bad luck it was, assessed the situation.
Looking around, he saw two artillerymen serving as his assistants exposing themselves to the same embarrassment, but there seemed to be no immediate danger to their lives. Bragston was grateful that the secondary gun turret had not collided with the aft deck. Unbeknownst to him, they were blessed with another stroke of luck. If the funnel had been destroyed, the aft deck would have been directly exposed to the high-temperature exhaust gas.
The aft gunnery command post was protected by armor, at least to some extent. Bragston checked the area below through the observation window. As expected, there was a considerably smaller scene compared to earlier, but flames and smoke were rising from the elevator hole of the secondary gun turret. Whether it was due to the heat or the impact of the explosion was unclear, but it didn't matter; the result would be the same if the ammunition magazine of the secondary guns detonated. If the main gun ammunition magazine had exploded, the Grade Atlastar's hull would have likely snapped in two. However, if it was the secondary gun ammunition magazine, the hull should be able to withstand it—
"Fuck!"
Bragston realized. The ammunition magazine of the secondary guns was separated by bulkheads. However, if the fire continued, the bulkheads would become hot. The ammunition magazines of the rear secondary gun turret and the third main gun turret were separated by just one bulkhead. Moreover, the rear turrets had never had a chance to fire. Both ammunition magazines were fully loaded.
"Hey, follow me," Bragston called out to his assistants, who were still sitting on the ground. But they were slow to get up. "Don't worry about pissing yourself. It'll dry up when exposed to the fire."
Bragston descended from the aft deck, with the assistants hurriedly followed.
. . .
The lid of hell had been lifted; that was Bragston's impression. Flames and smoke were still rising from the elevator hole of the secondary gun turret. This hole led to the ammunition magazine, and there were quite a few personnel in there. Reflexively, Bragston suppressed his emotions.
Mourning the dead was the privilege of the living. Neither he nor the survivors of the Grade Atlastar had yet earned that privilege. First, he had to attain that privilege.
Personnel from the third turret and damage control team gathered. As Bragston expected, the bulkhead of the ammunition magazine in the third turret had distorted and heated up due to the explosion. The ammunition elevator was also partially distorted and in no condition to be used. Following the judgment of the chief gunnery officer of the third turret, the turret was abandoned, and the personnel joined the damage control team.
"Extinguishing the fire is our top priority. If the main gun ammunition magazine detonates, the ship won't survive."
Everyone nodded at Bragston's words.
"Bring as many hoses for firefighting as you can find. Pour water from above. And pumps too. Fire hydrants alone won't be enough. Use seawater."
Under the instructions of the damage control team leader, the damage control personnel immediately moved. Slightly delayed, the personnel from the third turret followed. However, upon seeing them return, the damage control leader expressed dissatisfaction.
"Is that all you've got?"
"Fires are breaking out elsewhere, sir."
"Is there a more critical situation than here?"
"About that... The ammunition magazine in the forward secondary turret is also on fire."
Bragston felt like someone had hammered him in the head. A hole-in-one is rare, but it's not entirely strange when it happens. However, when two holes-in-one occur consecutively, the story changes completely. There's some monster out there who can aim for holes-in-one.
Bragston had honed his accuracy as a gunner. In the Empire, he had come to be called the "master of divine skill." But that skill had become meaningless. The Japanese could not only control shots but also the ball itself directly. No matter how much he polished his shots, there was no way he could win. The era when war was like golf had come to an end. So, what should he do? — It's clear. Right now, the only thing to think about is survival. Bragston, thinking that the current situation was beyond his control, finally remembered the chain of command.
"Have you informed headquarters of the situation?"
A strangely awkward silence fell. However, only the leader of the damage control team, with an exasperated tone, asked back.
"The daytime battleship bridge got hit. Didn't you know?"
Oh, how naïve he had been! Would someone capable of aiming for a hole-in-one show restraint after just two holes? It wouldn't be strange if they aimed for three or four more. Considering cost-effectiveness, they would likely continue aiming until their ship sank.
Here, Bragston realized. The attacks by Japanese unmanned planes had ceased.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let's rewind time a bit.
Samejima noticed the change in the surrounding gazes but pretended not to notice.
'To win the least amount of damage, of course.'
He thought so but wisely kept it to himself.
"The SSM attacks have stopped."
"All ships have depleted their SSMs on one side, and they are turning to shoot the SSMs on the opposite side."
"I see."
However, the opportunity to shoot the SSMs had been snatched away.
"The Mirishial cruisers are moving."
Samejima and the others focused on the display. The eight cruisers within the circular formation were moving out in pairs of four, forming two single-file lines outside the circular formation. Picking up the manacomm, Samejima pressed the pre-talk switch.
"This is the Japanese fleet commander. Mirishial fleet, what are you doing? Don't make arbitrary moves. You're getting in the way of our line of fire."
"This is the Mirishial regional fleet commander. This is our territory and our territorial waters. We don't take commands from you."
"This is not an order. It's advice as a member of the coalition. The Grade Atlastar still has combat capability. Approaching recklessly will get your cruisers pummeled."
"Much appreciated, but your opinion is unnecessary."
And with that, the communication was cut.
The eight cruisers reorganized from a double-file line to a single horizontal line. They should be a second-line fleet due to being a regional fleet, but their movements were surprisingly smooth. Although their proficiency was high, if things continued like this, it would all be in vain.
"The two La Kasami-class ships are following suit. The Marins are launching from the Muish carrier. Ships of the line from other countries too..."
Competing with each other from the circular formation, warships from various nations were heading towards the Grade Atlastar. This was the difference between a game and reality. In a game, things move as programmed. Both the units and soldiers were nothing more than data. But in real warfare, from the commander to the foot soldier, humans were the ones fighting. Humans had their own will and acted on their own judgments. Those judgments were based on orders at times and ego at other times. Samejima confirmed that he had released his finger from the pre-talk switch of the manacomm and howled.
"Do they all want credit that badly? Damn vultures!"
Having seen that spectacular explosion, they misunderstood. A little more poking, and the Grade Atlastar would sink. The golden moment would be easily within their grasp. Of course, reality wasn't that kind.
"Commander, what should we do?"
To the question from the fleet staff, Samejima couldn't answer immediately. In that moment of hesitation, a new transmission came in through the manacomm.
"This is the Cartalpas Naval Base Anti-Air Surveillance Division. Numerous aircraft believed to be from the Gra Valkas Empire are approaching Cartalpas from the southwest! Distance 70,1 nautical miles (~130 km), around 40 units!"
Samejima thought it might be déjà vu, but it wasn't.
"We have no interceptors. Japanese fleet, requesting support!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Let's rewind time once again.
The mobile fleet belonging to the Gra Valkas Empire's Eastern Fleet hurried towards Cartalpas.
"So it's undeniable that the Grade Atlastar is heavily damaged."
In response to Fleet Commander Kaonia's question, Staff Officer Bartz nodded.
"We've received transmission from the Grade Atlastar, and the fleet's close air support aircraft have confirmed the flames and smoke from the explosion. It seems certain that there was a detonation in the ammunition depot."
Kaonia looked thoughtful.
"Any friendlies nearby?"
"Only Admiral Alkaid's Eastern Expeditionary Fleet."
The Eastern Expeditionary Fleet had suffered considerable damage while conducting reconnaissance in the Magdola Archipelago. Its flagship, the Betelgeuse, hadn't sunk, but it likely wasn't unscathed. Her sister ship Procyon had been reported as sunk.
"It seems we'll have to handle this on our own."
"Yes, the Grade Atlastar belongs to the Judgment Force. Moreover, it has legendary achievements, having defeated Leifor alone. If we lose it, the Empire and our Eastern Fleet's reputation will be completely tarnished. We must at least rescue the Grade Atlastar. We need to make the best possible effort."
In other words, without an alibi, their heads could be on the line. While medically not as severe as a literal beheading, it wasn't a preferable outcome.
"So, what does 'best effort' entail? I don't mind; we won't leave it on record."
Bartz seemed a bit hesitant, but with that kind of insistence, he had to answer.
"Surface ships won't make it in time. We have to deploy the air wing."
The one with widened eyes was the commander of the air wing.
"Bollocks! If we do that, we'll end up like the first attack group. I can't give that kind of order to my men!"
This was something Bartz had anticipated.
"We don't need to fight the Japanese fleet. The Grade Atlastar can still navigate on her own. We just need to prevent it from being pursued by the Japanese fleet."
"Then, what do we fight against?" Kaonia inquired.
"We'll bomb the urban area of Cartalpas."
This visibly changed the complexion of the air wing commander.
"You want to bomb the city when there are enemies around?"
"There's no other option. It's to avoid the total annihilation of the air wing. In any case, bombing the urban area was included in the initial operation objectives."
No one could argue against this. Bartz continued.
"The initial operational objectives are no longer achievable. Therefore, we must now bring the situation under control with the least possible damage."
"It might sound misleading, but that's a yes."
"At this point, you value face over the lives of your soldiers!?"
The air wing commander seemed about to grab him.
"At least the Grade Atlastar has soldiers on board as well."
"...Are you suggesting we use the civilians as hostages?"
"They are barbarians and the target for the operation."
Kaonia, unable to watch any longer, interjected. "Present an alternative plan. Opposition without an alternative is irresponsible as a commander."
In the end, Bartz's plan was used after some minor modifications.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"The enemy planes seem to be heading towards the city, not the bay."
With the words of the fleet staff, Samejima's stomach turned. He pressed the pre-talk switch on the manacomm.
"Cartalpas Naval Base, this is the commander of the Japanese Escort Flotilla. We are providing support."
"Much appreciated!"
"What about the friendly units?"
"Leave them be. They are also military personnel. They have to protect themselves. We prioritize civilians who can't defend themselves."
"Our Emorish wind dragon riders will also join the reinforcements."
An unexpected communication from the manacomm surprised everyone on the Hyūga.
"Ooh, the wind dragon riders! That's great, we appreciate the support of one-man armies!"
In response to Cartalpas Naval Base's gratitude, Samejima shook his head.
"Are these wind dragons strong?"
"I've heard that it has radar despite being a living creature. I heard that wyverns are afraid to approach them, but their specific aerial combat capabilities are uncertain..."
This time, a radio transmission came in, not from the manacomm.
"Zebra Command, this is Tango 1. The APG is malfunctioning. We can't make onboard repairs."
Finally, the prototype radar was broken.
"Tango 1, return at once."
"Copy. Tango 1, returning."
"Commander, shall we deploy the Seahawk as a replacement?" the Hyūga's captain promptly suggested. It was a proposal to use the radar of the SH-60K Seahawk as a substitute for the malfunctioning radar.
"No need."
Samejima's response was surprising to everyone. They could not understand why. Sensing the atmosphere, Samejima explained.
"Radar coordination with aircraft other than the Thunder Dragon is still undergoing X-OS (software) debugging. To put it in a way I shouldn't, it doesn't seem to work properly."
Seeing that those around him were not satisfied for a different reason, Samejima stated the excuse he least wanted to voice.
"I prioritized the most time-consuming radar experiment. That way, the overall development period becomes the shortest. I never thought we would use it in actual combat."
For military personnel (officially referred to as Self-Defense Forces members for domestic audiences), saying "We didn't anticipate actual combat" is the most embarrassing excuse.
. . .
There is a somewhat complicated background to the formation of Escort Flotilla 0. It is due to considerations for the ATLA.
After the Japanese-Parpaldian War, the shortage of SAMs was a concern for the JMSDF. SAMs had been imported from the United States until then. However, with the transference of the entire country, there was an urgent need to switch to domestically produced SAMs. The situation was similar for the JGSDF and JASDF. Especially for the latter, the situation was even more serious than the JMSDF. Existing fighter jets could not be reproduced domestically, and the upcoming fighter, essentially decided to be the F-35A, could no longer be imported. There was an urgent need to domestically develop the next-generation fighter (F-X). While there was the experimental aircraft ATD-X as a base, the development of a practical aircraft usually took more than a decade.
However, the ATLA's development resources, responsible for the equipment of the three SDF branches, were limited. Under the surface, there began a struggle for resources among the three branches (mainly the JMSDF and the JASDF). According to the JASDF, they should prioritize the F-X, and since they would handle fleet defense if they had an aircraft carrier, all SAM development resources should be allocated to F-X in that manner.
In comparison, the JMSDF's attitude was somewhat constructive. They decided to temporarily provide their own resources to the ATLA. In terms of personnel, they dispatched Captain Samejima, a missile specialist, to the ATLA. In terms of equipment, they made an extravagant offer by lending a triple-digit-numbered ship (In the JMSDF, a ship with a three-digit number is classified as a main combat ship) as an experimental ship (usually, experiments are conducted on the experimental ship Asuka, but her schedule was full due to various equipment development projects). Yes, Samejima's real rank is a Captain. However, him, as a Rear Admiral, taking command of Escort Flotilla 0 is also a result of considerations for the ATLA.
The JMSDF's short-term goal was the domestic production of SAMs, but in the medium term, they also eyed the domestic production of the Aegis system and its successor, the fleet air defense system. They provided the platform of the missile defense ship Akizuki (classified as a general-purpose destroyer, but it was due to bureaucratic reasons of aligning the ship's construction framework) as the missile escort ship, and the Hyūga as the system ship.
Then came the dispatch mission of the escort flotilla to Cartalpas. The existing escort fleet was exhausted in the Japanese-Parpaldian War, and there was no available escort fleet to dispatch. They reluctantly carried out a temporary formation, but the number of ships did not meet the requirements. The JMSDF withdrew the Hyūga and Akizuki that they had once offered to the ATLA.
The ATLA understood this, but they conveyed a delay in the development schedule. Although it was a natural and routine bureaucratic procedure due to the postponement of the provision of the platform, some members of the JMSDF did not see it that way. Therefore, the JMSDF made a new proposal to the ATLA. During the voyage of the dispatch to Cartalpas, they suggested continuing the experiments. To guarantee this, Samejima, who was on secondment to the ATLA, was called back and appointed as the flotilla commander in an unprecedented personnel move.
In fact, Samejima had no experience as a ship captain. He had served as the gunnery officer leveraging his expertise in missiles, but his evaluation was 'mid.' He wasn't incompetent, but he wasn't so good he's irreplaceable either. In that case, he would be more useful as a liaison with the ATLA (there was no one in the JMSDF who could replace Samejima in that regard). That's how Samejima was judged by the upper echelons of the JMSDF. From that time on, Samejima was regarded as a 'person stuck at the lieutenant commander rank.' In other words, he deviated from the elite course.
Appointing a man like that as a flotilla commander all of a sudden was, indeed, impossible. There had been ship captains as flotilla commanders in the past, but there had never been a flotilla commander without captain experience. Even if they appointed Samejima, the captains under him would not be convinced. In the worst case, they might refuse to follow orders. At the very least, it was necessary to promote Samejima to a flag officer. Even if the captains were not satisfied, they would have no choice but to obey orders from a superior.
So, the JMSDF used a subterfuge in terms of human resources. They returned Samejima from the ATLA to the JMSDF on secondment with the treatment of a Rear Admiral. The reason for categorizing it as a secondment rather than a return to the original post was because, after the dispatch mission was over, he would return to the ATLA, a reason that even Samejima himself couldn't agree with.
With such reasons, the personnel composition of Escort Flotilla 0 became quite distorted. The commander is a flag officer only in title, and in addition to the crew, many defense technical officers from the ATLA are on board. Diplomats, headed by the Foreign Minister, are also on board the Hyūga. "It's like a zoo," said a crew member on the ship. The JMSDF opposed using a civilian passenger ship. On the surface, the Hyūga, which had removed her VLS, had sufficient space (this was true), and it should not waste taxpayers' money (this was also true). But in reality, they did not want to adjust the pace to the slow civilian ship. Anyway, they wanted to finish this voyage quickly and safely.
Thus, the captain of the Hyūga's consideration became in vain. He had already put the SH-60K Seahawk on the flight deck and even completed the warm-up operation. That much was within the discretion of the captain.
. . .
"Alright then, I'll leave the rest to you."
"Huh?"
The fleet staff officer was perplexed by Samejima's words.
"I'm a missile specialist. I don't understand air combat. All I can do is trust my subordinates and give them a blind stamp."
Certainly, that was true, but the fleet staff officer was also in a tough spot. He was an officer from the JMSDF, not JASDF.
In fact, the fleet staff officer secretly wished for this to happen. The figurehead commander was overwhelmed by responsibility, thus delegating command to him. His role was to be Samejima's watchdog, making sure he didn't do anything unnecessary, but he also had the ambition to take command of the flotilla himself if possible. That was really underestimating Samejima, who was a seasoned senior officer who graduated from the National Defense Academy. Despite being evaluated as 'mid,' he had served honorably as the gunnery officer. The chance he wished for had come at the worst possible timing.
Nevertheless, the fleet staff officer did his best. He used the manacomm to inform Cartalpas Naval Base and the Emorish wind dragon riders that they couldn't detect enemy planes below the horizon due to radar failure.
"Then you should lure the enemy into the upper airspace."
The leader of the riders, Wuji, quickly understood.
"We'll take on that role. We'll receive the enemy's position information from Cartalpas Base and lure them into the upper airspace. You can shoot them down with Japan's guided magic bullets."
Wuji inadvertently leaked information. Other countries had yet to realize that Japan's missiles were the same as guided magic bullets. The rumors about guided magic bullets would gradually spread among the countries that intercepted this magical communication.
"Keep a distance of at least 300 meters from the enemy. Otherwise, you might get caught in the crossfire."
Since the conversation turned to missiles, Samejima interjected.
"Understood. According to my partner, even my partner would find it impossible to escape from that thing."
A noise leaked from the manacomm. The Japanese later learned that it was the laughter of the dragonfolk. It was only much later that they found out that Wuji had joined forces with the SDF under Moriaul's instructions to gather information on guided projectiles.
. . .
Bragston ran across the upper deck to check the condition of the foremast top. He stopped at a position where he could observe the foremast top from behind. The 15-meter rangefinder at the top of the foremast was clearly tilted, and it was easy to imagine that the open-air fire control station had become a mess. The window on the starboard side of the daytime bridge below, which was underneath, had turned into a large hole. Naturally, the daytime bridge must be in disarray as well. However, the door on the port side of the rear of the foremast, leading to the daytime bridge, opened. Someone emerged from there and was attempting to descend the ladder with an unsteady gait.
"There's a survivor! There's a survivor on the daytime bridge!" Bragston shouted, simultaneously starting to run again for the purpose of rescue. Upon hearing his voice, several others followed him.
. . .
The person attempting to descend the port ladder was Luxtal, who had sustained injuries that couldn't be considered minor.
"The communications officer is still alive. Please rescue him."
That was Luxtal's first words when he was rescued. However, when Bragston's subordinates entered the daytime bridge, there were no survivors. Luxtal was carried to the vital part, the conning tower, which was the nearest crucial defense area. The command tower was merely a space with an internal telephone.
"What about the ship?"
Luxtal, like a naval officer, was more concerned about the ship's health than his own. Bragston accurately conveyed the situation.
"The biggest problem is the fire in the magazine."
"Yes, we are using fire hoses to supply water for firefighting," the leader of the damage control team responded.
"That won't be enough in time. Utilize the drainage system."
Those present took a moment to comprehend.
"Reverse the flow of seawater through the drainage pipes and start flooding the ammunition depot. It'll take some initial effort, but it's the fastest way. Begin flooding before triggering a detonation."
The damage control team hurriedly saluted and headed to the scene. The personnel from the third turret saluted before following.
"We've made contact with Admiral Kaonia's fleet. They are heading toward us to rescue us. This is the overview of the rescue operation."
Luxtal handed over a note, and Bragston, who was closest, received it.
"I've done my part. The senior officer should assume command."
Luxtal closed his eyes and slumped. A medic rushed over.
"He only fainted."
Bragston felt relieved at the medic's words. But he quickly noticed the surrounding gazes. In turn, Bragston looked around and realized. He was apparently the senior.
What the heck! I wanted to be the gunnery officer, not the captain!
As if adding insult to injury, the shipboard telephone rang. Bragston, on behalf of the senior, picked up the receiver.
"What's happening?"
"The enemy has resumed the attack."
Bragston's blood ran cold for a moment, but he managed to stay conscious after hearing the next words.
"Cruisers believed to be from Mirishial are approaching and opening fire on us."
"They're bombarding us with gunfire?" Bragston confirmed, wondering why.
"Yes, sir. Gunfire."
"Understood."
Those who saw Bragston hang up the phone were chilled to the bone. He was smiling.
Indeed, Bragston was pleased. The opponent wasn't the Japanese. He could still play golf on the battlefield.