===
“Status!” ‘C’mon Monitor, you got this!’
I pull myself off the floor, wincing as something in my shoulder twinges. As I look around, I see a few injuries, and grab a trauma kit from my hold to go tend to the worst.
Someone clicks the intercom. “Medical to combat center! Light injuries generally, we got one with a fracture.”
I set the splint and glance around, searching until I find the radio officer, currently still in his seat, somehow, that lucky sonuvagun.
“Right, blast damage assessment. What’s our status? You’re alright, just a concussion.” Click off the flashlight, move over to Rico.
He exhales. “It ain’t good. That one was big enough to cause a cave-in with the hangar bay, and that means…”
“No more quick launches. Fuck, what’s the estimate on repair time?”
“Damage control says it’ll be weeks under best conditions, like this…” Rico shrugs.
“DAMNIT!” There’s a moment of silence only broken by ambient machine noise and quiet chatter in the CIC. Think. Think. What can we do?
“…okay, we can use the harbor. It’s at the least shielded by being in the other side of the island so it should work as long as they don’t drop one right on top of it. Get me the on-site medical officer?”
“Aye. Standby.” The man types a few commands and talks into the headset after a brief pause. Then he turns and hands it over to me.
“…doing triage in a nearby storage, it’s not looking great. Most of the ones in there were auxiliaries, they’ll be laid up for a while. We still haven’t found em all.”
“Affirm, fatalities?”
“…Christ. A dozen or so, mostly from the human complement but we lost one of the destroyers.”
“…understood. Godspeed…?”
“James A Patterson, sir. We’ll do our best.” He hangs up, just as someone else speaks.
“Boss, I think you should get a look at this.” I turn to the sonar display, the woman at the console looking up at me.
“Abgail, what…” The blood freezes in my veins, as I stare at the display, then to her.
“…these are the outer sonobuoys?” She nods, her tan face turning back to the screen.
“Profile’s giving 82% confidence from the heuristics, sir, and it’s only stayed around that mark. Abyssal signatures, reinforcements, I’m sure of it sir.”
BAM! The cup of tea jumps on the counter from my punch.
“…damn. Damn! Prepare the base for evacuation in an orderly fashion, and send a message to the relief force to meet us. There weren’t enough ships here before and there sure as hell aren’t enough now. I… I need a moment.”
Stepping outside, I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.
“Monitor?” The steady voice, gently accented, comes with a hand on my shoulder.
“…I fucking lost a harbour, Amar.” Somehow, I find the strength to look him in the eyes, searching for that flint I can rely on.
===
‘…damage control, report to upper amidships, verify RADAR housing integrity…’
My eyes flutter open.
“…ugh… What…?” Something on my side aches, and I think my shoulder might need a trip to the repair pools, but hey. Still alive.
I check around. Chunks of rock, small gap looking outside.
’ I think I’m safe to shift a few…?’
Carefully, I move one of the ones blocking my way out, one eye on the rest of this cage.
No movement. I’m fine. I drop the rubble chunk and it sinks into the… Sea…
“…I wonder.” I spend a minute or so trying to convince my boat bits to disappear…
With a shimmering, they disappear-shit this is deep water-
I come sputtering to the surface, doing my best to stay afloat, grabbing onto an exposed piece of rebar and clinging there as I watch the roof.
Is it going to kill me? No? Okay. Plan B.
“Come on, I’m a boat for Seer’s sake, where’s the damn SCUBA gear?” I finally fish a tank and mask out of the lockers.
‘Right, and we just put this on, check seal, check connection…’
I take a breath, and make to dive into the water-
I don’t know what it is that stops me. All I know is that all of a sudden I hear a loud WHACK from my helmet and I realize I’ve smacked into the concrete behind me.
“Eh?” I feel at my helmet, and the new small indentation on the back.
“…come on, I can do this!” I make to dive-
WHACK!
‘Fuck that actually hurt a little!’ I shake my head, staring at the water which for some unseeable reason, I can’t fucking go into-
“…nrrrgh, come on! Fine, slowly.” This time, I gently lower myself into the water, ignoring a slow feeling of trepidation creeping up my spine.
As my chin touches the water I have to physically force myself further for some fucking reason, muscles straining to stop me in my tracks.
“Go, in, the, Seer, forsaken, WATER!”
I finally get below, and struggle my way through the small gap, having to fight my own body more than anything.
As soon as I get into the gap, I realize it’s not a gap, but a tunnel.
Short, yes. Claustrophobic? No, thankfully, I’m not.
I break the surface at speed on the other side, scrabble up a bit of rubble before I know it, and take a breath, willing my heart to stop racing, willing my engines to stop doing their best attempts to redline and explode.
Stolen story; please report.
“Fuah…!” Squatting there, I tuck away the SCUBA gear and take stock of the current area, finding the distant rolling of guns and almost comically small puffs of smoke in the distance.
Right, status check… All good? All good. I think.’
Holding out my hands, it takes a second, almost like I’m trying to hitch a trailer in the dark, all fumbly and indelicate, but eventually it links into place, and with shimmers, my boat-
‘Rigging, right. Terminology and all that.’
My rigging settles into place with a final few clicks and clacks, I turn on my RADAR-
“Oh boy.”
The screen lights up with contacts all the way out over the horizon. Idly, I check my ammunition.
‘Seven missiles left for capital ship busting. At these numbers that’s… not much of a difference.’
My crew points out something interesting. 304km out, closing fast, bearing down on me.
“Action stations, action stations! Set condition Zebra across the ship, damage control report to central.”
Joy. Missile. Too fast, and the profile’s not antiship strike. It’s goin real high up-
Seer watch over us all. That’s an artillery missile of some kind, no doubt about it.
‘That’s… Fuck, that has to be what hit the harbour! So that’s how they were shelling us!’
“SMM-42, kinetic interceptor mode. Solution resolved. Cell door, open.”
‘Not this time.’ “Missile programmed. Firing!”
FWOOOOOoohm!
Seven meters of missile roar into the air, rocket motor brightly burning as it speeds upwards, smashing through the sound barrier.
‘No maneuvers, relatively low speed, probably won’t need a second shot. Interceptor in kinetic mode.’
Acquired, homing on target. Geometry looks good.
The missile’s fire begins to fade from view, growing too high up to see properly as it angles for the threat.
Terminal guidance active.
“Impact… Now!”
Instead of the standard puff of gray smoke, the missile combusts, a flash of orange and yellow fire in the sky, black smoke filling out the area and lingering after.
“Shit-what the fuck was in those missiles?” No further contacts, it looks good.
…Then again it might just be a very long launch delay, and just two of those did drop a protected launch bay on my head.
‘Seer guide us all, I guess.’ Still on course for the combat area, and I think I might be able to see about defanging some of those capitals, on second thought.
In the distance are puffs of black smoke, and the cloud of tracks-
“Another one?” I ready another missile, as another track comes from the same launchpoint. Then three. Then four. Then a continuous stream of tracks.
“…!” Smoke fills the area around me as I begin a rolling salvo, SMM-42s flying out with a metronomic roar.
I watch the stream of red pips in my vision, assigning missiles and tracking vectors. ‘How fucking many do they have?!’
Twenty, thirty, forty-
“Forty eight…!?”
‘…well, damn. Not enough. Shit!’
“Comm, patch me through to Midway, we need to warn them!” I loose the last of my 44 SMM-42s and… that’s it. They’re flying low but SDMs will never catch them in time.
Worse, they’re all different models, some flying high some low some very very fast and some slow. Three of them are broadcasting ECM, though it’s not awfully thick like I’m used to.
Connections. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Six and seven are big fat fireballs, more of those unstable warheads. I hear the chatter over comms pick up a little; some of the women out there are noticing this little fireworks show.
‘Gotta make these count. Hopefully the four that miss are firecrackers or something.’
RADAR noise begins to pick up with the sheer amount of metal in the air from dozens of interceptions, but I can still see good enough that-
Orange yellow flashes in the distant sky, a second sun-
“… Seer preserve us.” I-how?! I turn away, the world bright through my sunglasses, shielding my eyes with a hand.
The flash of an atomic bomb burns brightly in the sky.
===
“…I say again, possible nuclear ordinance is inbound. Interception incomplete, missiles are depleted, four birds, no, five with a time on target of 4 minutes.”
…
“…traffic received, Rampart. Over and out.” I clock off, and stare at the mic.
Everyone else stares at me.
The time has come. I… I am not prepared. “… everyone who has business elsewhere, you’re dismissed.”
I put it back and take up the intercom. “Now hear this, now hear this. I have been informed of possible inbound nuclear weapons, aimed at us. Make your peace and begin evacuation. All seaworthy women are to go to the docks and begin unpowered launch. Thank you for your service. It’s been an honor. Captain Monitor, out.”
The room is empty. None of them want to die alone. I don’t blame them.
‘…damn. You’re wasting time, Monitor!’
‘Amar left already so he’s not going to be here. Just you and you alone, ol buddy.’ I pick up the radio again, listening to the quiet sounds of the CIC ticking over.
“Battleship Indiana, this is Midway, I say again, Indiana this is Midway. You are ordered to withdraw in good order and regroup with the friendly forces at…”
I get confirmation, sign off, and…
And then I sit down in the comm chair, pulling a glass bottle of whiskey from my hold.
My face reflects in it, of gently tanned skin framed with bronzed hair. A scar around one eye.
“…”
I hear the door open, and find Amar, giving that lopsided grin of his. “Room for one more?”
===
I listen in, sailing for intercept, feeling the sea spray on my face as tracks flicker off my right.
At flank speed I only have a few hours at 58kt but that should be long enough to get out of blast range from the harbour.
Should, keyword. I’ve been shot at with nukes but those usually weren’t around 19km away. I think I should be out of the blast range by the time…
‘You’d think I’d know better than to taunt fate by now.’
As if the universe had read my thoughts, one of the missiles abruptly accelerate, presumably on a terminal attack burn.
“Fuck…!” I close my eyes and brace-
===
“What in the name of God…?!” Puerto Rico turns, shielding her eyes from the flash on the horizon, the Union class battleship illuminated in stark contrast under the harsh light.
I keep my eyes away, watching our pursuers. Their planes approach, angry and howling. “Hey! Stop gawkin, we’ve got a whole mess of problems!”
Algerie cursed, clutching her side even as what weapons she had pointed up. “Tenryuu, what do you expect us to do? We are short on anti aircraft and most of us are hurt! We cannot fight as we are!”
“Run, fight, live. 'S all we can do right now.”
“…Damn. Ahaha…” The Frenchwoman sighs heavily, stumbling a bit, as the bandages on her side grow ever redder. “I… Was hoping for a better plan than that…”
“We’re runnin ragged as it is. Best case scenario, we get outta this alove and Algie I swear to god if you fuckin runoff on us playin hero I will kick your ass.”
The cruiser looks away shiftily. “…never crossed my mind, mon ami.”
“Good. C’mon, you got a couple, what ya call em, suitors or whatever back home I hear, so let’s make sure you get back to em.” I shoot her a cheeky grin and then push to 30 knots, ignoring the outraged French behind me.
Moments later I get a gently disapproving dispatch from Richelieu. “Please do not bully my sister too much. Be gentle with her.”
Heh.
“…here they come!” Puerto Rico’s chasers open fire in a salvo of 5in shot.
BLAKAboom! BLAKAboom!
Angry flowers bloomed in the sky, taking a few planes. The others look like they’re breaking off to try and dodge the sparse fire.
We’re making good time, but they catch up to us soon enough, closing first into both our cannon ranges-
BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM-
“Get some!” Puerto Rico roars as her 5in broadside rumbles, the 40mm beltfeds joining in with their staccato.
“DEATH OR GLORY!” Algerie joins in moments later. Her guns are not guided by computers or RADAR but all she has to do is follow the tracer fire of Puerto Rico and add even more weight of fire.
BOBOOMBAKAMBOOMBLAMBOOM-
“…should I even bother?” I take another potshot with my 80mm. It’s barely even audible over this fucking thunderstorm!
“Here they come!” Still the air attack pushes on and autocannon fire opens up, even MORE TRACERS bathing the three of us in a red glow against the setting sun.
“Shit. They’re gonna make it!” The air attack is breaking up but they’re making it through this stupidly large barrage even still. I add my, admittedly useless, machine guns to the storm.
“Bombers approaching drop! Move!” Algerie yaws hard, rockets and bombs falling around us.
…honestly I can’t see anything. I make some maneuvers, still spraying machine gun fire into the sky and cranking out 80mm shells, but there’s not really much I can do about this mess.
Bang-FWASH! “Augh!”
Something hot blooms across my back and I hastily put it out before the fire can spread. Another rocket whizzes by my head-
“-repeat, is anyone receiving? Rampart to ships at bearing 252, lat-long…” Wait what.
“Rampart? Where are you?!”
I hear a rather relieved sounding sigh. “Making best speed for you… Three? I assume the big noisy cloud is anti aircraft gunfire?”
“Yeah no shit!” Another kill by the gunners, good job. Only a fuckton more to go!
“Understood. I’ll see what I can do to assist though I can’t guarantee much help. Hang on-AUGH!” The line goes dead.
“Rampart? Rampart!” Static greets me.