Fort Vanguard
Fort Vanguard buzzed with the control that signal the start of a major naval operation. The decision had been made, Vice Admiral Reginald Thorne’s Carrier Strike Group (CSG), centered around the USS Gerald R. Ford, was preparing to deploy to the southeastern continent, where the Republic located. It was a bold move, driven by necessity and urgency, despite General Carter’s earlier unwillingness.
On the deck of the USS Gerald R. Ford, the preparations unfolded with military precision. Crews were securing aircraft and loading weapons, F-35C Lightning II and F/A-18 Super Hornet stood ready on the flight deck, alongside MH-60 Seahawk helicopters and E-2D Hawkeyes, they will be useful with the technology needed for both defense and reconnaissance in these uncharted waters. Below deck, ordnance crews carefully transported munitions, from standard bombs to missiles, ensuring the carrier was fully armed for any engagement that might arise.
The USS Gerald R. Ford was the aircraft carrier of the CSG, but she was not alone. Surrounding her were the other key ships that made up the strike group. The USS Normandy, a Ticonderoga-class guided-missile cruiser, was fitted for air defense and long-range precision strikes, her Vertical Launch System (VLS) was filled with Standard Missiles and Tomahawks. Close behind, two Arleigh Burke-class destroyers, the USS Gravely and USS Higgins would provide multi-layered defense, capable of engaging air and surface threats with their Aegis combat systems. Beneath the surface, the USS Minnesota, a Virginia-class fast attack submarine, was preparing to slip away quietly, ready to detect and neutralize any undersea threats.
In addition to the combat ships, vital support vessels were being prepared. The USNS Lewis and Clark, a dry cargo and ammunition ship, was loaded with critical supplies, ready to resupply the CSG at sea. Fuel was equally crucial, the USNS Big Horn, a Henry J. Kaiser-class replenishment oiler, was stationed nearby, her massive fuel tanks ready to keep the ships and aircraft of the strike group operational for extended periods.
Inside the operations center, the mood was tense but focused. Vice Admiral Reginald went over the final preparations. The officers surrounding him monitored reports, fuel levels, weapon stocks, aircraft, and weather forecasts for the unknown route. Every detail matter in a deployment like this, where unknown variables far outnumbered the known.
"Every system must be in perfect working order," Reginald reminded the assembled officers. With satellite communications unavailable, the fleet would rely on high-frequency radio and line-of-sight communications. Advance radar system, including the powerful SPY-6 radar aboard the destroyers, would provide vital tracking and defense capabilities, but the limits of this world’s geography and unknown creatures added an extra layer of caution. They were entering territory where their cutting-edge technology could be tested in ways it had never been before.
On the hangar deck, maintenance crews were busy inspecting aircraft systems, checking everything from engine performance to the complex electronics that would enable the carrier's aircraft to operate autonomously from home base. Each piece of equipment was inspected and re-inspected. Crews worked in shifts to ensure that the carrier’s nuclear reactors were running at optimal efficiency since long deployments required constant attentiveness over the power plants that drove the massive vessel forward.
Meanwhile, in the logistical hubs, stacks of crates were being carefully organized. Everything from spare parts to medical supplies was being loaded onto the supply ships, and the coordination between the ships of the CSG was being fine-tuned. They had to be self-sustaining for long periods, with no nearby bases to rely on for quick resupply or repair.
As night fell, final preparation checks were being completed. The strike group was set. Engines hummed to life, and on the bridge, commanding officers gave the orders to get underway. The USS Gerald R. Ford began to move, slowly at first, as her escorts took up their positions around her. The destroyers and cruiser formed a protective perimeter, their radar systems already active, scanning the seas and skies for any potential threats. The submarine disappeared beneath the surface, its crew working in silence as they prepared to provide early warning of any dangers lurking beneath the waves.
The CSG was now in motion, heading toward the southeastern continent, where the Republic and other countries is located. The unknown lay ahead, but the fleet was as prepare for any situation because they are trained, armed, and ready for whatever challenges this strange new world might throw their way.
Kingdom of Eldarion, Erlun
As the morning set in, the Royal Cavalry, sent by the royal capital to assist Erlun, were now ready to guide William and the others. William, having prepared everything he needed, stepped outside the duke's residence and saw the three M1280s. Lucas, Ethan, and Parker were busy refueling the vehicles. William walked over to them.
"Hey, why's there a new vehicle?" William asked.
"Ryan and Tyler grabbed another M1280 last night at the base, along with some fuel, food, and water. Since our trip to the capital will take about five days," Lucas replied.
Parker, waiting for Lucas to finish, began speaking. "Did you know, William? The base's Carrier Strike Group set sail last night and is heading to the Republic," Parker said.
William, hearing this news from Parker, was a bit shocked. "What? What are they going to do there?" William asked.
"I don't know," Parker replied. "We haven’t received any info about it. They're probably going to try forming diplomatic ties with the Republic... I guess."
"What do you mean?" William asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. "If I remember correctly, my team and I are the only ones with experience as ambassadors at the base. What are they thinking?"
Ethan spoke up, "I heard from Ryan that Vice Admiral Reginald is leading the strike group. I know he's a very straightforward and hot-headed person."
After hearing that, William's expression darkened, a hint of frustration creeping in. Having a hot-headed person leading negotiations could be a major problem. He couldn't help but feel uneasy, but he hoped for the best. Deep down, though, he already had a sinking feeling about how things might unfold. Lady Elara, noticing William, Lucas, Parker, and Ethan in conversation, swiftly approached them and interrupted their discussion. "We’re leaving for the royal capital in 30 minutes," she informed them, her tone clear and urgent.
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Kingdom of Osvalen
Crown Prince Orun Von Valenor hurried through the grand hallways of the royal palace, his boots echoing on the marble floors as he made his way to his father’s throne room. His heart raced, knowing that the matters he needed to discuss could not wait any longer.
As he approaches the massive doors, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He had learned to keep his composure, but today, something felt different. The tension in the air was heavy.
Without slowing his pace, Orun called out, his voice commanding. “I need to see His Majesty!”
The two knights stationed at the door, always vigilant, immediately recognized the Crown Prince. With a swift nod, they pushed the heavy doors open, allowing him entrance.
Inside, the throne room was bathed in the soft light of the midday sun, filtering through the high stained-glass windows, casting colorful patterns across the floor. At the far end of the room, his father, King Darius Von Valenor, sat upon the golden throne, his expression unreadable, his eyes locked on a scroll he was reading. The air in the room felt thick, as if the weight of the kingdom's affairs had settled upon the walls.
The two knights closed the doors behind Orun, and the Crown Prince made his way forward, his boots softly clacking against the stone as he approached the throne.
“Father,” Orun said, his voice now more measured but still laced with urgency. “I have urgent news.”
King Darius' expression darkened, a sense of hopelessness overtaking him as he glanced at Orun. "What is it this time?" Darius asked, his voice low and heavy.
"Osvalis has fallen," Orun replied, his tone grim. "The Federation troops are marching toward the royal capital. Our military advisors estimate they'll arrive in 12 days."
"The Republic said they are sending troops to us," Darius muttered, his voice strained.
"Enough, Your Majesty!" Orun interrupted, his voice rising with frustration. "The Republic will arrive when the fight is already over! They don't even care about us, even if we are allies. It's as if they're not even trying! Your Majesty—no, Father! Stop relying on the Republic!"
Orun's gaze was unwavering as he stepped forward. "Let me lead the troops! I will meet them before they reach the capital!"
"NO!" King Darius shouted, his voice filled with despair. "You will only get yourself killed. You're the crown prince, the next king of Osvalen. I can't bear the thought of losing you like we lost your brother!"
"What's the point of being the crown prince and becoming king if I can't protect my own kingdom?" Orun's voice trembled with frustration, his fists clenched at his sides. "If I can't protect Osvalen, the Federation will destroy it, and then I won't be able to become the king you wanted me to be!"
He took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. "I will not stand by while our people suffer. I will fight for them, even if it costs me everything."
Orun turned sharply, his boots echoing through the cold stone floor of the throne room as he made his way toward the door. King Darius, watching his son walk away, called after him, his voice strained with a mix of concern and desperation.
"Orun, wait! Don't do this!" Darius’s words were heavy, filled with the weight of a father's fear. "You can't go alone. Think about the consequences."
But Orun didn’t slow his pace. His eyes were fixed straight ahead, and he didn’t so much as glance back. As the heavy doors swung open, he crossed outside the throne room without hesitation.
"I won't let our kingdom fall," Orun's voice barely carried through the door, cold and resolute. "I have to do this."
The doors shut behind him with a thud, leaving King Darius standing in the silence of the throne room, his heart heavy with the helplessness of watching his son walk into danger.
USS Gerald R. Ford (time skip i guess)
As the Carrier Strike Group sailed through uncharted waters, the atmosphere on the bridge of the USS Gerald R. Ford was tense but controlled. Vice Admiral Reginald stood near the windows, watching the officers manage the carrier’s operations. The helmsman was at the helm, skillfully adjusting the ship’s course as the ship cut through the waves. Reginald observed the smooth coordination between the crew as they kept the carrier on its course.
His attention then shifted to the flight deck, where the second E-2D Hawkeyes was being prepared for takeoff. The flight deck crew moved quickly, ensuring everything was set for the aircraft to launch, knowing the Hawkeye was essential for their long-range surveillance.
Before Reginald could witness the takeoff of the E-2D Hawkeyes, his flag secretary, Lieutenant Commander Rebecca Collins, stepped up beside him, her tone is a mix of concern and professionalism.
"Sir, you haven't slept since last night," she said, glancing at him with a worried expression. She had been keeping track of his schedule and knew he had barely rested.
Reginald gave her a quick glance but remained focused on the flight deck. "I'm good. I don't really do much, just observing," he replied with a calm, dismissive tone.
Rebecca hesitated, then pressed, "But sir..."
"I said I'm fine," Reginald interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind.
Rebecca sighed, looking at him with a mix of frustration and concern. "Alright, sir," she said quietly, though her worry was still evident as she stood nearby, waiting for any further signs of exhaustion from her superior.
As Reginald watched the second E-2D Hawkeye lift off from the deck of the USS Gerald R. Ford, he felt a sense of urgency. The aircraft's mission was vital, its radar and sensors would provide the Carrier Strike Group with real-time intelligence from above, particularly over the vast, empty ocean.
Moments later, Captain Daniel Foster stepped up to the bridge, handing Reginald a fresh report.
"Vice Admiral," Captain Foster said, his tone serious. "We’ve just received an update from the first E-2D Hawkeye. The crew reports land detected ahead, approximately 900 miles out. They're relaying data now."
Reginald's expression shifted as he processed the information. The E-2D Hawkeye, with its powerful radar system, was primarily used for early warning, tracking both airborne and surface targets, including landmasses. While the ship's radar could pick up some objects, the E-2D's radar had far greater range and capability, allowing it to detect things like land up to 200 miles away, depending on the terrain.
"Have they confirmed the exact coordinates?" Reginald asked, looking toward the radar officer.
"Yes, Sir," the radar officer replied. "They've sent us the initial data, but we’re still waiting for the full scan to confirm the type of landmass."
"Very well," Reginald said, nodding. "Get that full scan. We need to know what we're heading into."
The officers on the bridge continued to work quickly, analyzing the incoming data. The E-2D Hawkeye's role was crucial here, it would provide long-range tracking, ensuring the Carrier Strike Group wasn't blindsided by unexpected threats.
As the visuals from the Hawkeye came through, Reginald knew their course could now change. The discovery of land meant they were approaching a new region.
Chapter 5 end here