The rockets sputtered and hissed with the fuel all spent, and the ship coasted through the air, the trajectory carrying us back down through the sea of clouds, and the wind rushed past.
> Parachutes activated.
Blankets of white fabric popped out of their containers along the hull and yanked upward, pulling taut the elastic ropes that kept them bound to the ship, and with a heavy, lurching tug, the parachutes filled with air, and the ship slowed on its descent.
This was maybe the third or fourth time we've had to burn and stop. Our length of flight was limited by the fuel in the resource hold, and I couldn't recycle water at this altitude, so we'd fly for a moment, land back in the sea to refuel, and do it over and over until, finally, we spotted ships on our descent.
I stood at the helm in the bridge, nursing a cup of coffee, when one of the spotters noticed them. It was the enemy battle fleet, far, far out there near the horizon, and this high up, the horizon was more than a hundred kilometers out. I brought out my binoculars for a closer look.
5 Destroyers, 150m Class.
10 Cruisers, 200m Class.
1 Battleship, 300m Class.
And a few dozen kilometers away, the rebel ship. It was a piece of shit wooden caravel type, more of a merchant's vessel than a warship, and from the bulge of the sails, I saw they had favorable winds that took them right to us.
Would they make it in time?
I groaned again at the size of the enemy fleet. In a one-on-sixteen fight, we'd lose. Hands-down. It wouldn't even be a contest. Their ships were all of the new designs, and the cannons had ranges that reached over the horizon. Would we even have time to pick up the rebels before getting bombarded?
I needed to readjust my strategy. A direct confrontation wouldn't work, so I decided to rely on our fast-moving gunboats.
We had one gunboat with a shitty tank turret. I could put either the new SG-60T gun on it or put on the railgun. Actually, it boiled down to either equipping a boat with a 60-ton fat chode of a gun or instead using a sleek, slim, powerful 5-ton railgun that had longer range, better penetration, but worse explosive potential.
We were low on time, so railgun it was.
With the railgun, enough engine power to make it faster and more agile than our enemy, and a respectable amount of ammo, it would cost about 50,000,000 Water per boat. Once we landed and put on the mining lasers, that would be 5 minutes for each one, but dammit, I wasn't even sure if we had that kind of time.
"Admiral," said one of the technicians. "We've intercepted the enemy fleet's communications."
"Put it on speaker," I ordered.
The bridge speakers squawked with static fuzz, and from it, voices emerged. A conversation between two unknown people that didn't involve us, and the first voice said, "We've got a ping on radar, 40km North, North West." The voice was cold and bored.
Another voice, almost indistinguishable from the first, replied. "No visual on target. Is it Red Whale?"
"Unconfirmed."
They didn't know we were up here, falling through the sky. We had the element of surprise, if only for a few minutes. Should I cash in on it now with a few railgun rounds, or hope they wouldn't notice a big-ass ship with parachutes landing beyond the horizon.
I gambled on silence. Firing now would be too risky. If they were somehow able to hit us while we were descending, we'd be fucked.
A big-ass bird landed on the deck. Wait. No, it was a goddamn wyvern. "Someone get that asshole wyvern off the deck!" I shouted.
A spark of electricity shot up its leg, and it screeched and took off. The wide, leathery wings flapped hard in the wind, and it took off elsewhere. Looking in the distance, parts of the sky was full of them. I had never been out this far in the sea before, so maybe these small off-brand dragons were like seagulls or something.
"Admiral," the navigator said. "The enemy fleet has slowed."
"Good. It'll give us time to get resources."
"I project we'll land 14 kilometers North-North West of the rebel ship, about an equal distance as the enemy."
"A standoff."
After a few minutes, we splashed down. Everyone braced and grunted in their seats, the water erupted around and washed over the decks, and once we were stable, the ship burst with activity.
> LMF Engine (Port 1) deactivated.
>
> LMF Engine (Port 2) deactivated.
>
> LMF Engine (Starboard 1) deactivated.
>
> LMF Engine (Starboard 2) deactivated.
>
> Mining (Port 1) activated.
>
> Mining (Port 2) activated.
>
> Mining (Starboard 1) activated.
>
> Mining (Starboard 2) activated.
> Work Order:
>
> Gunboat Retrofit: Railgun
>
> Railgun Gunboat x 3
>
> Katyusha Gunboat x 1
>
> Resource Hold Expansion: 100,000,000 R
> Total Cost: 190,000,000 W
>
> Current Resource Gain: 180,000 W/s
>
> Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
>
> Estimated Time Remaining: 18 minutes
"REPORT!" an enemy voice said. "What did I just see fall out of the GODDAMN SKY?"
"It appeared to be a ship, commander," said another.
The commander replied. "It must be HIM. ALL STATIONS!" An alarm wailed over the speaker, and it cut out.
His voice. I knew it from somewhere.
Now was not the time to be worried about old acquaintances. We were currently in the most dangerous standoff I've ever been in. A single destroyer-class ship with gunboat escorts versus an entire battlefleet.
"Status on the rebel ship," I demanded.
"It's... stopped moving," said the sonar tech. "I don't know why."
Fuck. "And the enemy fleet?"
"They've also stopped."
Strange. We were both over the horizon for one another, with the only rebel ship's mast visible through the haze. It was likely the same for them.
It was a game between us. Whoever went to the rebel ship first would be blasted, and they had a defensive advantage now that the rebel ship had stopped moving. Damn it.
However, we had a range advantage with our railguns. Did they not know that? Their huge SG-60Ts were only effective for about 25 kilometers, but the railgun could fire more than 200km. We could take shots now, but that would pressure them into approaching too early. By prolonging the fight, we would have time to build our forces up.
The Card King joined me at the helm. "Redrim, shall we sortie the first gunboat?"
"Take command of them," I said. "Plan to have them harass from range, but wait for my command to fire."
"Gladly."
The first pirate crew sortied out from the first railgun gunboat—it splashed into the water and revved its engine—and they headed due West. It was a strange-looking thing, and nothing at all like the tank turret boat. The railgun took up most of the length of the boat, and due to size limitations, the railgun couldn't traverse very far, only just enough to aim. This wasn't a fighting craft; It was seafaring artillery. After another minute, the next gunboat was finished, and the Card King sent them East.
As the standoff continued, as neither us nor the fleet nor the rebel ship moved, the Card King used the comms to direct the gunboats into flanking position. After a hushed argument with the third gunboat, he turned to me. "We have a dragon problem."
"They're wyverns," I said. "Just have them--ugh." I remembered pirates weren't heroes, and wyverns could possibly be dangerous to lesser men. Wait. Of course! "Have them hide inside the hull. I have a plan."
I clicked on the comms. "Vil. Load Dragon's Blood--Beast Lure--Beast Lure, and wait for my command."
He chuckled on the other end of the line. "And here I thought you were out of ideas."
"Admiral!" said one of the techs. "A cruiser has peeled off from the battle group. They're headed due north."
"What about their communications?" I asked. "What are they saying?"
The tech listened through her headphones. "It's quiet."
Tch. Maybe they changed channels again.
"Redrim," said the Card King. "Shall we fire now?"
"No."
The technician continued. "Four minutes until we are within the cruiser's firing range."
The Card King repositioned the gunboats to start a crossfire on the lone cruiser, but the enemy fleet had somehow detected them, and three destroyers peeled off to approach our gunboats.
"Redrim," he said. "We need to make a choice."
"Not yet."
The final gunboat splashed into the water--The Katyusha boat. This was a fast little speedster filled with rocket arrays.
"Load that boat with Smoke-HE," I ordered. "Have it sortie and bombard the enemy fleet immediately."
"Roger," he said before whispering the command through his comm speaker.
"Admiral!" said the sonar tech. "The cruiser is now in range to fire on us, and the rest of the fleet is approaching."
"How far are they from the rebel ship?"
"Only five kilometers."
I brought out my binoculars to peek across the horizon, and sure enough, there they were. The towers and bridges of those advanced battleships creeping over the horizon. Soon, the entirety of them would be revealed.
"Redrim," said the Card King. "The Katyusha Boat is in position."
I smirked. This was perhaps the dumbest, most insane idea I had come up with. "Begin operation. Fire."
In the distance, we could hear the howling barks of the Katyusha rocket barrage firing near-vertically. Some of the enemy ships took wind of what was happening, and the massive guns sniffed over to aim--but it was too late. The Katyusha boat was already hauling ass away. They'd never hit it. And soon after--
The entire naval battlegroup plumed with a drumroll barrage of grey smoke explosions.
"Vil," I said. "Fire."
The railgun charged, hummed, and fired. The projectile zipped across the water, over the rebel ship, and pling! It shattered against the hull of the battleship. It didn't even penetrate.
But we didn't need it to. The pink gas erupted and mixed with the smoke of the area, the breeze came and pulled long tendrils from it, and soon the wyverns caught a whiff.
The Card King burst into laughter. "The dragons! They're--"
The sonar tech stood back in awe. "They're attacking the enemy fleet."
I looked through my binoculars. Those dense pockets of flying little dragons and wyverns, entire flocks of them, now streamed toward the enemy fleet. Small arms gunfire flickered and flashed atop the enemy decks, but the sky around them was now filled with angry, horny wyverns. One dumbass fired an SG-60T ship round at a passing wyvern. It missed, obviously.
If there were ever a time, it was now.
"Jessie," I shouted. "Get ready."
She hit me with a thumbs-up through the monitor. "I'm on it!"
> Resource Hold Status: Full
>
> Resources: 100,000,000 W
>
> Mining (Port 1) deactivated.
>
> Mining (Port 2) deactivated.
>
> Mining (Starboard 1) deactivated.
>
> Mining (Starboard 2) deactivated.
>
> -8,000,000 Water Element
>
> LMF Engine (Port 1) activated.
>
> LMF Engine (Port 2) activated.
>
> LMF Engine (Starboard 1) activated.
>
> LMF Engine (Starboard 2) activated.
> Begin Countdown:
>
> Three.
>
> Two.
>
> One.
The ship burst with raw power, ripping through the waves, shooting jets and walls of water along our sides, and soon, we lifted out of the sea and coasted through the air just high enough to drag the bottom fin through the water.
We rushed closer toward the enemy fleet. The battle raged on there, and the wyverns had grown in number. Between us, the rebel ship.
> Parachutes activated.
The ship jolted as the chutes dragged us back into the water, but we kept the momentum all the way up until we stopped right at the rebel ship. The decks were empty. The sails were torn. I looked back at the enemy fleet and saw the sheer size of those guns--the fangs of those monsters--and I felt vulnerable. "Heroes!" I yelled.
The adventurer party leapt across the water and landed on the wooden decks of the rebel ship. They ran around inside to gather the rebels, and my trash can heart pounded.
"Vil," I said. "Fire another."
We still had two tank turrets, and now, the enemy ships were within range. I phoned each turret gunner and ordered them to fire Smoke-HE at the fleet. In moments, all guns on my ship began to fire, and the world rumbled around.
"Sir Redrim!" the knight shouted. "This ship! It's--"
I stomped over to look out the glass. The heroes leapt back over empty-handed. On their faces, a mix of shock, worry, and duty. The knight rolled in his landing--his fake leg twisted off. The archer helped him to his feet, and the mage and healer spun around, aimed their staves at the wooden ship, and--
What the fuck? But, Jenna is--
The rebel ship exploded.
We rocked against the force, the heat rushed through my bones, and the shockwave shattered the glass. The outside noise rushed in like pulling our heads out of water, and we breathed deep the smoke and fire and salt of a full-scale naval battle.
Magic circles and glowing flower petals blinked away. The healer and mage saved us once again.
But Jenna...
"It was a trap, Sir Redrim," the knight said. "No one was aboard the ship. It was filled with boxes of gunpowder."
I glared across the sea and at my enemy. Wyverns and smoke and gunfire, but it wouldn't last forever. "Scan for lifeforms," I ordered.
One of the technicians hurried to another monitor. "Confirmed," she said. "There's a cluster of people within the main battleship. They're huddled in the storage hold."
We were fucking duped. The imperial fleet had already caught the rebels and were holding them hostages as bait. It was a trap from the get-go, and if I wanted to save them, if I wanted to save Jenna, I'd need to jump head-first into the jaws of it.
"A-Admiral," said the tech. "This-this lifeform signal. It's--"
The Card King stomped over. "It's what, Private Davis?" He hovered over her to share the sight, and between them, I noticed it, too.
A huge red mass beneath us.
The lifeform scanner beeped louder. Faster. Panicking beeps that shook back anyone nearby, and soon--
The water beneath the enemy fleet rose as if the gods' hands themselves were pulling the water up, and the ships tilted and swayed, and the water churned, and something broke the surface.
Scales. Fleshy Skin. A thousand fangs and a thousand tentacles.
It was the Kraken.