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Eyeball - Titanslayer
Ragnarok - 28 - Director and Dreadnaught

Ragnarok - 28 - Director and Dreadnaught

The Enterprise sailed far ahead of the rest of the fleet; many of the crew had been transferred to other carriers and vessels; only the bare minimum remaining on the ship; which was still hundreds of vitally important naval enlisted, as two figures; mostly in black, one of them with military insignia on the chest and shoulders, the other in his trademark chrome helmet, walked towards the bow.

"You realize the secret service are pissed that I'm letting you this close... and taking this risk... and that I sent them off to the Reagan?"

Eyeball glanced at Thomes. He hadn't had much chance to talk to the director. And considering his earlier chat with Penelope... this would probably be a good time. "You always struck me as the sort that wanted to die for his country, and when that didn't happen, you instead fought for it. I can respect it. I was that way for most of my military career."

Thomes chuckled. "Ahh, yes. Kamikaze. Do you think this is such an action? Are we sailing off to our deaths?"

"...I have no idea. Honestly, I'll know whether this can work once the fleet gets close enough my powers work properly. I suspect they'll want to start firing at extreme range, and then let me have control once its close enough for this to work. At that point... I'll know pretty much immediately. It would be nice if we still had some of the guns we used against the Jotun. Prometheus station could've handled this thing in under a minute."

The president inhaled deeply. Eyeball was a bit surprised the old man could handle the cold this well. He wouldn't be out here without his helmet at all. "Well then. I suppose we simply wait. Ideally, we'll take this thing out before it even gets close enough to use its weapons."

"The Jotun didn't just have plasma weapons. They had drones, missile launchers... and the Chinese fleet had cruise missiles. If I were them, I'd start using those the moment the railguns started firing."

Thomes nodded. "Yes. They'll start firing any minute now. With the comsats up, we can see exactly where he is.... and they can see where we are. Hephaestus has refused to put any filters or barriers on them, so... now I suppose the only remaining network is one everyone can use at will."

"So. What's your plan for America, once all this is over, Mister President?"

Thomes glanced at the chrome helmet. "Concerned about my plans for La Famiglia? You shouldn't be. Honestly, I strongly suspect you'll be one of my most vital allies in the years to come. Your homeland is going to become a handful of quarantined pockets of survivors within a few months. We're developing cures for all of these bio-weapons at miraculous speed... but we still have to distribute them, and this 'Redscale' is apparently incurable; you simply have to survive it. We're going to fight as hard as we can, and establish quarantine zones, but... this time next year I'd bet America will just be about thirty, maybe fifty, million people, slowly rebuilding the country. Considering we broke five hundred million after the Ascension incident..."

Eyeball sighed. "Yeah. My hometown... I looked it up. Haven't done it for years. A chemical weapon Clone released killed just about everybody I knew before I joined the military; the whole county is listed as a dead zone. The whole south is like... a patchwork quilt of dead zones. Some of those things didn't quite kill people, just... did enough nerve damage to make them violent idiots. Those who weren't already."

"Ahh, yes. If I recall, you signed up to get out of the criminal life of your family? Didn't turn out too well."

"...My Uncle was a soldier. Kinda idolized him as a kid, thought it was what I always wanted to be. Cops killed him. Lied and got away with it scot-free. Whole family realized that the local sheriff was as crooked as the day was long, and nobody outside the county was gonna do a damn thing about it. So... I wouldn't say that. We were at war. We lost. So I left, before they could pin any nonsense on me once I was an adult." He glanced at Thomes. "The ones who killed my uncle didn't survive that long. The other deputies... hold grudges."

Thomes studied Eyeball again, thoughtfully. "..There's really no way to know the truth about that, but... We did investigate that first fight after you got home. If you hadn't killed Lightning, we would've been recruiting you, not chasing you. Two cops who covered their body-cams with tape before going into an area were suspicious from the beginning, and if we had a decorated... if a bit overly enthusiastic... war hero and every other witness all testifying against two cops who obviously had something to hide...."

"If I hadn't become famous, and the whole incident national news, it would have gone to the prosecutor, internal affairs, and then been quietly shut down. The cops would've either lost their jobs or got a slap on the wrist; or more likely, it would've all been blamed on me and they'd be hailed as the good guys. Worst case scenario for them, they work in the next town over within the year. On the other hand..." He looked out at the ocean. "According to Apollo, if Lightning were still alive and on earth when Chain showed up, he would have done a run on our military facilities... ones he had the clearance to know about.. and basically in the opening moments of the battle, every major fleet and installation on the ground would be gone, along with all of our major industrial centers, and then he'd have killed himself. What was left of humanity would have lost the war with the Jotun; we'd have made them pay for it, brutally, inch by inch, with the help of the dead. But..."

Eyeball looked out in the direction of the Dreadnaught they were sailing to meet. "The original fate of our world, before I stumbled into Lightning at that bank, was to be crushed beneath the Jotun boot. Odin, Apollo, all of them thought the only thing we could accomplish would be to break that boot in the process. Now... its a choice between the Emperor of Iron and the old war-hound Thomes. Either way, a human future. What does your future look like?"

Thomes sighed. "You know that while there might be... or have been... plenty of crooked police organizations out there, the DMA wasn't one of them. If there's still a US after all this, we won't have the sort of president or congress that protects them to keep votes from the police unions."

"...Honestly, I do. I thought they were like the rest, once. I know the whole public 'superhero' image some of the famous ones keep is mostly BS, but I eventually realized you weren't the bad guy." He thought for a moment, about what sort of a leader Thomes would be. What the country would look like with him in charge.

He reached down to his 40mm revolver, and casually flipped a switch. He was going to feel sorry about this, after.

***

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The Dreadnaught flew steadily towards the enemy fleet; while various icons scattered across the radar and comsat images, most of them were marked as orange; non-threats. The only ships there that actually posed any sort of threat were the ones equipped with nuclear arms, or railguns; and even then, it would be a steady, brutal assault to take her down, not an abrupt kill.

The Emperor smilled down at the table and its display. None of the telepaths were working at present; they weren't needed, and wouldn't be until the titanic craft drew close enough to the main fleet to bring its tentacles to bear. He heard... and felt... a sudden, loud, 'bang' against the hull.

A railgun had fired. The projectile had struck the hull, made of Jotun armor plating, somewhere faster than Mach 10, and had left a nasty crater, striking with so much heat it had actually flash-vaporized a bit of the metal and embedding the spike at least thirty meters deep into the massive armor plate. If the Dreadnaught were the size of an ordinary warship, and had normal armor, that attack would have likely gone all the way through; or worse, pierced the outer armor and then bounced around like a pinball, shredding internal compartments and crew. Instead... the Emperor thought for a moment; and the tiny gap sealed itself; the heat of the projectile helping the material to re-seal itself. Even if it struck exactly the same place, another spike wouldn't make it much deeper.

That one wasn't from the Enterprise, which was perhaps seventy kilometers away; it was from the Reagen, further back. He smiled, and raised a hand. "Fire missiles. Focus on the Enterprise first, since its closest. How many missiles do we have?"

Almasi had taken position inside the Throne; and was commanding his own soldiers who were, for the most part, operating the equipment at present. "We've acquired over ten thousand Chinese missiles of various descriptions, and a few hundred of the Jotun nanoplague ones, your majesty, as well as... an uncertain but significant number of Jotun missiles which are designed for space combat, and might not function as well in this situation. We have.... thousands that are within range."

"Make it a thousand, then. Overwhelm them in a rain of fire and death, and include a few of the Jotun ones... not the nanoplague ones... just so we can see how they handle atmosphere. After their flagship is gone, I might make another surrender offer to the others... or just ride over them like a cloud of death."

***

~Mister President! We have hundreds of incoming missiles, Chinese, Jotun, South African; a seemingly random mass. They were all launched within a few seconds; we should see the Jotun ones hit within a few seconds, then the rest arriving as one big wave.~

Thomes chuckled, and stepped forward to the prow. ~I've got this, lieutenant.~ He glanced back at Eyeball. "How long before you can do your thing? If I protect the Enterprise, he's bound to start focusing on the rest of the fleet."

Eyeball raised his revolver, and studied the imagery from his helmet. If the Dreadnaught were actually on the water, it would be impossible to see it until it were far closer. With it flying up in the air... it was, currently, a tiny smudge, outlined by the halo of massed missile fire. The fact that it was even visible at this distance was a testament to the enormous size. Magnification gave him a much better view of the craft. He could see a railgun impact strike the armor... dozens must have hit it by now... but the mammoth thing looked intact.

"Current range is... just shy of sixty-seven klicks from the fleet. I can start directing precise fire of the most distant railgun in... less than five minutes at our current speed."

He blinked; and turned, staring back at the rear of the ship. A vivid green glow... and a much softer golden one, approaching him. Gabriel landed beside the two men, Thomes ignoring him as he reached out his arms, the anti-missile turret on the carrier springing to life and opening fire; as he focused on the sky, on the surrounding air... and twisted.

"Gabriel, this might not be the best time. There's enough incoming missiles to..." He stopped, at the sound of the first detonation, and stared at the sky in momentary awe. There were massed explosions, a literal rain of fire and death pouring down... and parting off to either side. Missiles were slamming into each other, flying into the ocean, and otherwise just... completely missing the carrier, something that seemed impossible with the sheer size of it. Would this work with plasma fire? How close could the director actually get them to that monster?

He stopped... and turned to Gabriel. "Actually... this might be the best time." He turned back and studied Thomes for a moment. The man must be at least slightly paranoid about Eyeball; if he took a direct shot, his bullets would end up out in the ocean. If he aimed at the man, he'd need to shoot at... the deck beside his left foot. That would leave the bullet in the man's... shoulder, right beside the spine.

Gabriel smiled. "Of course! Emerald asked me to take Hiroshima, and Nagasaki, and go fight the Jotun. I suspect they'll work well against that metal monster that approaches!"

"Well. You can bring them, if you like. But honestly, just you, and your wings, will really save me quite a bit of pain."

"...Really? Why?"

***

The Emperor glared at the imagery projected before him. The wave of missiles had ended; highly sophisticated Jotun warheads, expensive cruise missiles; all of them had simply... crashed into each other, or sunk into the ocean. He gestured. The picture zoomed in on the bow of the carrier; and three figures standing there; two in black, one in white, with a faint golden glow.

"Is that... Eyeball? Who's with him?"

Almasi looked at a nearby technician, who studied the picture closely. "Ahh, sir. That's... Director Thomes. President Thomes now. Metahuman who can bend space, redirect projectiles away from himself. Last active in world war two. The other two are either Eyeball or someone wearing the same style of helmet, and one of Eyeball's known associates, Gabriel."

"So it looks as if Eyeball has chosen sides. Ahh, well. He and La Famiglia would have been useful, but aren't really needed. Prepare more missiles. We'll keep them busy as we approach... and simply crush them, up close and personal." He absently sealed another impact wound on the Dreadnaught's hull as the ship continued to advance.

The Emperor heard a sudden buzz sound, and a line of data appeared over the display. His... phone? Someone actually using his old phone to call him...

~Hello. Your Highness?~

He blinked. Ahh. Eyeball. He remembered that voice. "I see that you've decided to die with what's left of the US Navy. A pity. I saw great potential for you. You could have been King of North America."

~That's an interesting idea, but I don't think I'd make a good king. Can you see me?~

The Emperor chuckled as he saw the figure gesturing; the three standing at the bow still, Thomes having relaxed. "Yes, I can see you."

~I have all of the railguns of the fleet hooked in; I have control of them all. With a press of the trigger, I can direct their fire and have all of them fire at exactly the same spot. It might take a few volleys; but I could reach the chewy center of the Dreadnaught, with Thomes protecting me til we reach you.~

The Emperor frowned. Would that work? If anyone could do such a thing it would be Eyeball. He regretted sending Dr. Kline home, the doctor might know for certain. "Is that a threat? Are you trying to convince me to surrender, or withdraw? You know that won't work."

~No, actually. I can shut the railguns down, stop their fire, if need be... at least until they replace the software and targeting systems~

On the video, there was a blur of motion. The chrome-helmed figure raised a gun at a truly strange angle; he seemed to be firing at nothing at all. A flash. The black-armored figure of the director gave a spasm; blood splattered back into the air.. and it fell to the ground. The gun was lowered, aiming directly at the prone form. A second flash. The figure jerked; and remained still.

~La Famiglia would be interested in becoming the Kingdom ruling North America on your behalf, with the current heir, Penelope Russo, as Queen. I would like to discuss this in person, as your assistance in securing the continent would be pivotal, and am willing to leave my weapons behind for such a discussion. And in about ten seconds, every marine on this ship will be charging after me with rifles.~

The Emperor stared, jaw dropping... and started laughing. "Come along. I'll open a hatch on the rear of the Dreadnaught. The two of us are the most feared metahumans on the planet. I think a discussion would be fruitful."