Of Ships and Girls and Shipgirls - a KanColle-RP (IC)

[Sleet Clans]

On the sea floor.
As Nevlamas passed the many corpses on the sea floor, one twitched.
The submarine of Yoanie's little force of submarines, the one sunken, was still alive, hanging onto life by the last thread. It was basically dead, but not quite yet.
It was no danger, all torpedoes spent.
And it knew that.
So, she gave a longing look after Nevlamas, her broken, unmasked face looking towards her as she passed, longing in her eyes... longing for life. She had been unworthy, though. She did not deserve to live. Only to die at this lonely place...

As Nevlamas continued covering her retreating allies, her sonar panned out in all directions, she couldn't help but look around her, mostly at the sea floor. She could see wrecks all around her, and she figured that she was below right where the Abyssals had taken the majority of their casualties. Well, that, and the fact that the wrecks on her sonar and what she could see with the Mk. I eyeball didn't look natural, having the distinct lines and daemonic outlines of Abyssal vessels.

Well, thank Chankee they're dead now, the Sleetavian told herself. Even then, it would not do to let her guard down now, not while her comrades depended on her for support and blowing up key targets. Her suspicions were raised only more as she passed the wreckage of an Abyssal submarine. She looked a little bit at the sub, comparing it's shape to her own. While the Abyssal on the sea floor may have looked sharp and deadly in her heyday, the debris around her told Nevlamas that that sub's days were over. Meanwhile, the hunter ace was still in her (Hopefully for a good, long while) prime, once again serving not just her nation, but all of Humanity as well.

And that thought just made her feel dandy on the inside. Now, where was she-

Wait a fuck, did that thing just twitch?

Indeed, the sub Nevlemas had thought to be nothing but dead as a dodo was now staring at her. And what's more, it was unmasked too. It's eyes told the Sleetavian a number of things: It was broken, beaten, and left for dead by her allies. Whatever was propelling it to survive, Nevi didn't know, but it wasn't taking any hostile action. Her hydrophones weren't picking up flushing tubes, flooding ballasts, sound from the inside of the sub.

It was just an Abyssal submarine, at Death's Door, staring her mortal enemy in the face.

Nevi broke her escorting pattern to get a little closer to the Abyssal, but she was unsure of what to do. Obviously, the sub would die some time later from her injuries, and the Tyskhou-class was torn between putting the thing out of it's misery and just leaving it be.

''Hju, sram tu benfi zxa gurthern ki?''

Nevlamas listened to her Skipper's words. Taking this thing as a prisoner?

''Dei, sor mon shar'tyn ponsi erkart'i'', she replied back to her captain. It wouldn't do to have a prisoner die on the way back to base, and by the looks of this thing it was going to die any minute now. But maybe, just maybe...

Nevlamas got right up to the crippled sub, rummaging through the debris for anything that may have survived the explosion. As she expected, there was nothing of value that was in and/or around the sub. There was only one thing to do now. She reached forwards, towards the neck of the Abyssal...

SNAP!

The sound of breaking cartilage, if heard by any other surrounding submarines, would have registered on hydrophones. With that done, and without looking back, Nevlamas turned back to her previous pattern, all thoughts now directed towards covering her damaged allies....

[Fascist Republic Of Bermuda]

Raketenkreuzer Oberth

Miuil. Naval Base.

"Jawohl, I will find them," Oberth said, snapping off a Nazi salute with an accompanying, "Heil Hitler!" before moving to find the freighters. It was a menial task, perhaps. But nonetheless, orders were orders, and orders had to be followed. The foundation of her upbringing beyond all else- perhaps maybe the Party Line of the NSDAP- was the unquestioned following of orders. She started down towards the loading docks, where one would expect freighters to be. "Fräuleins! The air battle ist over!" She called out, in heavily-accented English, "Zer ist nussink to fear!" She repeated it in German. Rascally freighters, always hiding. She never had been good at the base hide-and-seek- somehow, the SS officers always seemed to find her, even when she hid in the attics or the floorboards. But nonetheless she pressed onwards in search of the missing freighters.

HMBS Legate

Searc. With the carriers.

-Snip-

To put it bluntly, Legate was not ready for another air attack so soon. Her damage control had barely gotten the flight deck fire under control, but then came the jets, sweeping forward with incredible speed the likes of which Legate's fire directors simply couldn't handle. Legate was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck, listing already from the torpedo, anti-air suite firing rather uselessly, flight deck ruined. "N-need some help over here!" She called out into the radio. At this point, Legate was praying for a miracle, because even Skipper and his flyboys were hopelessly outclassed by jet fighters.

CSS Thomas Jefferson PageThis is just gonna become a thing I have to do, isn't it?: TJP does not represent my RL views.

She'd fallen behind the big Red a while back, mostly concerning herself with chasing around fighters with HLFFS Baylee, that peculiar ship with quite the number of negroes on board- not that Long Tom minded- the Confederate Navy wasn't the Confederate Armies, it technically wasn't segregated- but it had long been known that, unless every enlisted man is a negro, the best spot for a negro sailor would be in the lower-decks, away from the more combative jobs of the ship. Cooks and cleaners were no doubt still important, so it was all okay, but giving negroes gunnery crew positions when there were perfectly good whites on board for the job was generally considered a path to trouble, one way or another. "I thunk we won!" TJP said, glancing at the girl grinning, "Nawt a plane in the sky 'ere anymo'!"

[Novaya Equestria]

snip

"The firefighters are hiding because you're a Nazi." The Novayan jetpack panzergrenadier fairy said as she approached Oberth. "Due to your posture, they think you'll be racist towards them and that you'll hold extreme prejudice against anyone that doesn't meet your nation's standards. That is why they're hiding from you." She added as she hovers (thanks to her jetpack) in front of Oberth. "By the way, are you going to be racially hostile towards anyone? Sorry, but I'm not sure whether I should trust you or not." The jetpack panzergrenadier fairy said. "By the way, you can call me Maria. Hmm... I wonder what Novaya and co.'s doing...?"

Sea Battle
Retreat to Base

"All warships are to converge on us carriers' positions! We have to make use of the limited air units we have! Coriolanus, have the Naval Base send air reinforcements to defend us! Till then, we'll have to make a dash for it!" Said Novaya to Coriolanus.

[Higher Japan]

Open sea

"We'll cover you, all ships retreat!" Higashikawa shouted as both him and Kaifu converged to escort the quickly escaping ships, Tokai moving backwards as she continued screening the sky for fighters while Kaguya sent a message back to base. "Strike force to base, we're making a retreat. Requesting for fighter cover if possible." Turning to see Legate, she sighed as she made a turn and threw a string onto part of her rigging. Slowly but surely, she began to get towed away from the battle as crew on board got ready to perform emergency repairs once out of the war zone.

Base

An alarm began to sound, one limited for the contingent of troops from Higher Japan as reserves were called upon, sending out fighters into the sky despite the somewhat destroyed roads as crew got to work filling it in with cement while overlaying it with some scrap metal. Running around, the twins began to quickly get to work as the fairies from their ships moved around to fix the buildings, more so the docks and shipyards upon hearing news that the strike force would be returning with news that severe damage had been received.

[Kraicia]

-snip-

HLFFS Heaveforetrekker / HLTS Hazel
Sector DN-15

I've wrangled, and I've tacked, and I've 'ared 'round,
But I've ne'er ein'st thought of sischtenvonland here.
Woefully, the thraw has come upon me at this time.
Bring forth my anchor, sichtenvonland was nigh.

Aye, aye, sichtenvonland was nigh and in reach.
At last I can land here for the blakehelligenacht.
But ne'er shalt I sleep yet, ne'er by these lands.
Nor shalt I be shrouded by vereinsamung so near.

The lands beyond the shore were ever schon,
So much as the blue seas I sailed upon before.
And the grass so ever green,
And the grass so ever green.

As I overcome the last of the strandseas,
Near the ever salted ostlichwinds and seas,
The heavens brought me the lone crow.
O' my but only one crow, aye indeed I see.

Why so much forth the crow has come?
Where must he had built his nest here?
Or more to come forth 'round these parts,
What makes him come and schutteln his wings?

No way must I be sailing again 'till dark.
The winds and tide would send me aloft,
All to no coming back this time to land like this.
Nor if I was reeling my 'mainsails' as I anchored.

I abide the seas as much as I abide the winds 'round... after all...

[The Selkie]

Speer Null
Speer Null had been the first group to arrive, the ones originally spotted, and, by the time they were, had made it close enough that, while the quickly rolling fog would certainly hamper the efforts of the strike force as a whole, their group were at least able to get close enough to drop torpedoes before the fog got too thick to see into, though none had gotten rockets off. Each fighter had chosen a different carrier, and the nimble aircraft, despite the low altitude, had had little trouble dodging the nearly-blind fire. It was when they rose up above the radar horizon that they began taking heavy losses. By the time the other spears were on-station, the decoy group had lost half their aircraft. As they danced in the sky, occasionally making halfhearted runs at Searc, they reported the situation to the other fighters.

Spears Ein and Zwei
the Fleigendewaffels of the groups made a command decision: Until the fog lifted, the enemy was out of ammo, or the escort were out of torpedoes, they would circle out of range, the fighters turning back at the edge of 20km and returning to formation at 40, flying as erratically as possible until they were sure they were out of range. At 45 km, they began flying a racetrack pattern, waiting for the all clear from their escort/sacrificial lambs that the enemy had run out of ammunition. As they flew, the fighters kept watch for enemy aircraft or surface threats.

As for the Maschinenteufels, they continued past the 20 km line, dodging fire as best they could now that multiple ships were firing on them, using the incoming fire to guide them to the escort for torpedo and rocket runs, though aiming more accurately than that, and, indeed, seeing rounds soon enough to dodge, got dicey once they were forced to close within the fog. Unlike the decoy group, which, by now, numbered two heavily damaged aircraft, the fresh fighters remained below the radar horizon for the duration, only briefly peeking above it to ward off enemy fighters, and so took fewer losses, but losses still, with only 20 of the 30 lasting long enough to run out of rockets and take over for the now-depleted decoy group in drawing enemy fire.

Speer Drei

As with the first and second spears, the third spear retreated to 45km upon reaching the 20km line and finding the fog too obscuring for bombing, and began flying a racetrack pattern while waiting for the all clear, keeping an eye out for enemy air power and surface threats as they flew.

Battlegroup Hornissennest
[Bob, my fighters are engaged with the enemy carrier group. The enemy seems to have put up a thick fog, so the dive bombers are hanging back until they can see properly for bombing. Maschinenteufels report heavy losses. Seems the enemy is relying heavily on radar and using those vexing VT rounds.], Hornissennest reported, [As to my idea, I thought it'd be a swell idea if, after the enemy carriers are gone, I could find a nice spot near the enemy base but out of their detection range, do a bit of fishing, have a few drinks, just enjoy myself a little. And wouldn't it just be a crying shame if, when they get back from raiding Chill's former post, the enemy had nowhere to put their new bounty? If that sounds like a good plan, I'll need someone to see to it that the big guns don't have a free hand to track me down. Turmfalke and the cheerleaders can handle a few cruisers, but a battleship would be... troublesome. This all assuming the losses from the carrier strike are low enough.], she continued.

That was another thing to curse her creators for. Had her dive bombers been equipped with marine radar, or even sonar, bombing the enemy ships blind would not have been an issue. But no. It would not be until later versions that her fighters would be given that tool. Perhaps an upgrade to look forward to. As she thought things over, Hornissennest began to move, this time careful to maintain a speed Turmfalke could easily keep pace with, for a position that would allow her to more easily support both her CAP over Battlegroup Bob-ouji and her airstrike against the enemy carriers as she waited for a response and for the results of her strike at the enemy carriers.

Locust

I eventually reached the battle, my sonar confirming that with multiple sonar returns, both allied and hostile. I noted some larger returns, obviously battleships and carriers, on the abyssal's side of the fight. Diving down as far as the seafloor let me, I began operating on silent running as I approached the capital ships, poised to kill them off one by one. In response, my combat module engaged, changing my personality to a much more serious one, as the top entrance of my vehicle bay opened, revealing the Type-A minisubs in my care, ready to sink anything they could. Of course, I was too deep to get any radio signals, so I didn't hear the flagship's order to withdraw.

Mary Read Kerman

Off to the northwest of Battlegroup Hornissennest-hime, Mary Read Kerman quietly, dutifully kept watch for enemy subs, her sonar pinging to the tune of the sea shanty she'd been singing earlier as she searched, grinning when her little ditty got a return. A *big* return. Deep as it was, it almost seemed like it could have been a whale, but Mary Read Kerman had a duty. "You look thirsty, giant. Have some drinks!", she quipped as her Verkaufsautomat launched depth charges, the destroyer reloading as she brought herself about to follow the sonar contact until it disappeared or stopped moving. "Ye shan't be slippin' by me, ye scurvy dog!", she barked as she dropped more depth charges, reloading and repeating as she followed. She knew they probably could hear her talking, but that was fine.

Same as Selks. Up to you if she's chasing your sub or a whale.

Note: Quote modified by removal of spoiler-tags.

Prophet

While it didn't exactly help the ships fire at the planes, the fog Prophet was providing prevented any aim for the abyssals as well, and he resolved it to be a fair, if not slightly advantageous trade. Listening to Searc, Prophet picked up speed as he retreated.

"Already on it Searc. All other carriers, stay as far into the fog as possible, we can't have anyone being bombed on the outskir-" He tried to say, but before he could finish, he was slammed on both sides by the torpedoes Speer Null let off. Thankfully, the full foot of armor on his belt prevented any major damage, it did shake his confidence, knowing that a lucky shot to his boilers will bring down his cover, leaving him and the other carriers at the mercy of the bombers circling overhead.

Salvation

Salvation looked back to Stilly, his expression softening immediately as he could see her cry. Crouching next to her, Salvation figured that some comforting was in order.

"Sorry for what? You saved my life, if it weren't for your depth charges, both of us would be quite literally dead in the water." He said before explaining how he used her depth charges to prevent a submarine ambush.

Locust

Unfortunately for me, I had engaged silent running too late, as indicated by the depth charges falling above me. In response, I launched my hands into the seafloor, pulling myself onto it and laying myself flat. The explosions from the charges did knock me around a little, but fortunately, I wasn't close enough to any of them. I had to get them off me before they start striking again, and I thought up a good plan. I released a large amount of crimson signal dye into the water, which floated up to the surface, making it appear that they either actually struck and killed me, or that they got a whale. Hopefully they'd take it, but if not, then I'd have to be prepared to go on the offensive.

Open sea

"We'll cover you, all ships retreat!" Higashikawa shouted as both him and Kaifu converged to escort the quickly escaping ships, Tokai moving backwards as she continued screening the sky for fighters while Kaguya sent a message back to base. "Strike force to base, we're making a retreat. Requesting for fighter cover if possible." Turning to see Legate, she sighed as she made a turn and threw a string onto part of her rigging. Slowly but surely, she began to get towed away from the battle as crew on board got ready to perform emergency repairs once out of the war zone.

Base

An alarm began to sound, one limited for the contingent of troops from Higher Japan as reserves were called upon, sending out fighters into the sky despite the somewhat destroyed roads as crew got to work filling it in with cement while overlaying it with some scrap metal. Running around, the twins began to quickly get to work as the fairies from their ships moved around to fix the buildings, more so the docks and shipyards upon hearing news that the strike force would be returning with news that severe damage had been received.

Sea Battle

"Dammit. This is why we NEED to step up our game, Rhiannon." Novaya said, displeased of Coeiolanus's battle plan, which is flawed thanks to the fact that the Naval Base got bombed. "Roger! Novayan landing fairies, it is time to pull return to me. We lost a lot of fairies, so we should try to rescue them as possible." Broadsword spoke to the fairies, as Molihua and Chrysantheme went to rescue any fairies in the water while Shinosaki loads Type 3 shells in case of any Abyssal aircraft that dares to come to Allied airspace. "Will do, but after I finish rescue fairies!" Chrysantheme replied, and, upon rescuing fairies, joins Searc in blasting the Abyssals. "Also, we should leave with the loot and the fairies rescued, bevause I felt that the Palefreaks might strike again." Said Shiroiyuki, who receives a warning from Novaya not to call them Palefreaks. "Sorry." Shiroiyuki replied.

Naval Base

"All fairies are to help clean the mess, but any fairies still manning tje AA guns will keep watch and guard on our airspace. We do not want another raid happening again." Said Tohka as much of the Novayan fairies went to clean up the mess the Abyssal squadrons caused. AA guns are still manned by Novayan fairies that will guard the base's airspace.

snip

"The firefighters are hiding because you're a Nazi." The Novayan jetpack panzergrenadier fairy said as she approached Oberth. "Due to your posture, they think you'll be racist towards them and that you'll hold extreme prejudice against anyone that doesn't meet your nation's standards. That is why they're hiding from you." She added as she hovers (thanks to her jetpack) in front of Oberth. "By the way, are you going to be racially hostile towards anyone? Sorry, but I'm not sure whether I should trust you or not." The jetpack panzergrenadier fairy said. "By the way, you can call me Maria. Hmm... I wonder what Novaya and co.'s doing...?"

Sea Battle
Retreat to Base

"All warships are to converge on us carriers' positions! We have to make use of the limited air units we have! Coriolanus, have the Naval Base send air reinforcements to defend us! Till then, we'll have to make a dash for it!" Said Novaya to Coriolanus.

Raketenkreuzer Oberth

Miuil. Naval Base.

"Jawohl, I will find them," Oberth said, snapping off a Nazi salute with an accompanying, "Heil Hitler!" before moving to find the freighters. It was a menial task, perhaps. But nonetheless, orders were orders, and orders had to be followed. The foundation of her upbringing beyond all else- perhaps maybe the Party Line of the NSDAP- was the unquestioned following of orders. She started down towards the loading docks, where one would expect freighters to be. "Fräuleins! The air battle ist over!" She called out, in heavily-accented English, "Zer ist nussink to fear!" She repeated it in German. Rascally freighters, always hiding. She never had been good at the base hide-and-seek- somehow, the SS officers always seemed to find her, even when she hid in the attics or the floorboards. But nonetheless she pressed onwards in search of the missing freighters.

HMBS Legate

Searc. With the carriers.

-Snip-

To put it bluntly, Legate was not ready for another air attack so soon. Her damage control had barely gotten the flight deck fire under control, but then came the jets, sweeping forward with incredible speed the likes of which Legate's fire directors simply couldn't handle. Legate was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck, listing already from the torpedo, anti-air suite firing rather uselessly, flight deck ruined. "N-need some help over here!" She called out into the radio. At this point, Legate was praying for a miracle, because even Skipper and his flyboys were hopelessly outclassed by jet fighters.

CSS Thomas Jefferson PageThis is just gonna become a thing I have to do, isn't it?: TJP does not represent my RL views.

She'd fallen behind the big Red a while back, mostly concerning herself with chasing around fighters with HLFFS Baylee, that peculiar ship with quite the number of negroes on board- not that Long Tom minded- the Confederate Navy wasn't the Confederate Armies, it technically wasn't segregated- but it had long been known that, unless every enlisted man is a negro, the best spot for a negro sailor would be in the lower-decks, away from the more combative jobs of the ship. Cooks and cleaners were no doubt still important, so it was all okay, but giving negroes gunnery crew positions when there were perfectly good whites on board for the job was generally considered a path to trouble, one way or another. "I thunk we won!" TJP said, glancing at the girl grinning, "Nawt a plane in the sky 'ere anymo'!"

Searc. With the retreating carriers.
The first group was quickly convinced, that their attacks were not going to end well and tried to play with me as the Carrier Group got its move on. Someone would need to drag Legate to safety, I knew as I was more concentrating on spending my last VT-shells halfways effectively. While Chrysantheme did a good job, doing her job as a AA-vessel and as a vessel rescuing survivors were not mutually exclusive.
I was quickly running out of VT-shells. What would be left were the few shots of canister I had and those were... complicated, to say the least.
The second group used our fire to direct their own. They did so well, more then one torpedo whizzing barely past me, my radio officer reporting torpedo trajectories for the carriers to dodge, until a few lucky shots connected. Not torpedoes, thank the Gods, but rockets.
I felt one smashing into my gut, another one into the AA-guns on my right shoulder, cooking off the ammunition there, another one to my knee. Another rocket connected with the quiver - while they would become deadly salvoes of 135mm-shells once they left the sinew, they were only arrows while still in the quiver.
And they broke like that, too.
That my fingers were still in there didn't exactly help. My fingers were mangled.
"Huh...", I made, not exactly in danger of sinking right about now, but getting there as my propulsion was close to be taken out, my AA-complement had seen better days and my ammunition didn't blow up, but was destroyed. "Time for a tactical regrouping, I believe."
And that was, what I began, my last remaining AA-guns giving their best in warding off the enemy planes, passing Chrysantheme - patting her on the shoulder as a signal, that she should follow the carriers into the smoke screen with me.

Rhinnon. Landing Zone.
I groaned.
"Rhiannon, Novaya, this is hardly the time now.", I said, laying mines and marking their positions on a small map, while my landing force of 3 Horse boarded Broadsword, "We will have to talk about this, but only after we returned home in one piece."
Hopefully we would. This would be called a desaster in the times to come, but hopefully one, which could be averted in the future. It was always like this with international cooperations, it seemed...
...still, Novaya did have a point. While this was not the right place to express it, the fact, that our base got attacked while we were away indicated some serious oversights over there. Someone would get the own arse ripped open.
"Rhiannon, Broadsword, as soon as you have everything on board, depart. I'll be right behind you.", I commanded the LST, before turning to my fellow cruisers, Spartan most prominently amongst them. "Or rather, we will. Let's link up with Whona, Amy and the rest first, before we make our way home."
I hoped, that we could search for strength in numbers and firepower, because quite honestly, we would need it, I suspected.

Stilly. On a deserted island with a doctor.
I smiled, glad, that my depth charges had been of use, when I was not.
But this was a bit of a predicament which we were in, being stranded, effectively... so, standard methods were the order of the day. After I thought for a moment, I told Salvation: "I still brought you into this situation, Sir. And I have an idea about how to get us out of it."
She took a breath.
"My engines still work absolutely fine. As soon as night falls, I will drag you back home." Simple, yet hopefully effective.

Base. Docklands.
One warehouse's door creeped open, the person responsible for that dashing out a moment later and wrapping her arms around Oberth, ignoring the fairy as the freighter girl was sobbing happily into the rocket-armed cruiser's chest.
"Finally!", she sobbed in German with relief, happiness and a slight accent of someone more used to speaking Norwegian as of late, "Finally someone, who doesn't speak that English Drivel and instead uses a proper language!" One should note, that the tanker Kattegat, who did an impressive impression of a barnacle as she hugged Oberth, was more frightened of air power then many of her peers, after all, she had suffered through some air attacks in her steel-lifetime and never came off unharmed. "Come here, people, she's good!"
And indeed, the other freighters, led by a more sedate Alster, with 8514 GRT their largest and leader, approached Oberth with smiles.
"As she said.", Alster said with a slight Hamburg-accent in her voice, before she raised her hand in rather informal, but hurried German Salute. Above them, fighters came into the air and began patrols, Higher Japanese by the looks of them. "Heil and welcome to being our escort. Would your fairies mind giving ours a few hands with unloading? It seems, that the base complement has better things to do..."

Battlegroup Baka-Prince. Sector DN-15.
[That sounds like a lovely idea. Commence the operation and if you need anything, tell me.], Bob agreed to Hornissennest with a small smile as it indeed was a great idea, [If you catch some fish, I have a few good recipies we could try out.]
That send, he nodded to his secretary and his other two battleships - two Elite Ta-classes, one Elite Re-class. In addition to that, his Flag Group's three destroyers. And of course, Wolftraud and Chiarra with their groups.
[I take, that you want me to occupy their rearguard so that the massive waste of ressources has to turn if she wants to engage us?], he asked the Carrier Princess over radio.

Enagegment with Locust(?)
The destroyers picked up the cloud of red rising, the colour striking them as odd...
...but maybe it was just a whale, their leader concluded and began to send out pings again, searching for sneaky little submarines trying to intrude into their perimeter. Silly of them to try with submarines so close to them.
They would all die.
Only one destroyer remained at the place for a moment, believing the colour to be... very much unlike blood. That vessel dropped another depth charge, just to be sure, that the whale was put out of its misery and then followed his comrades.

-SNIP-

Also New Antolania

---

Battleships Whona & Diamantina
Open Waters
Whona kept her mischievous grin, giving a weak fist into the air with the hopefully-painful death of the Airfield Princess.
"Hell... Yeah." She wheezed, bridging on unconsciousness as water flooded her lower boilers and fuel leaked from their tanks.

Dia turned over, slightly rattled by the extra shake through her structure, coming up on Whona's other side, holding her up.
"We need to go, we've completed the objectives haven't we?"
She started to turn Whona around, setting a course for the base.
"I hope nothing else comes up, or we're going to be in real trouble."
She began sailing toward base, keeping speed for the crippled warship and the tender, but she looked over, and saw a Heavy Cruiser limping along, slowly approaching.
"I'm sorry, but could you take her? There might be others who need my help."
She slowly released Whona, who slunk into the arms of Amy. And Dia sped over to Sergei, wordlessly wrapping his arm over her and taking them weight off him.
"It's going to be alright Sergei, you're going to be fine."

She slowly piloted them parallel with Whona and Amy, her fairies tossing a multitude of cables from her deck to the Whona, where they were pulled taut once Dia had shifted in front. Poor Amy couldn't carry Whona all the way home alone. She needed a little help at least.

Her boilers strained under the pressure, pulling for 2 and a half ships, seeing as Sergei was still chugging.

Amy. With Sergei, Whona and Dia.
I smiled as I got my load eased by Dia helping her sister.
One had to give her one thing, she did not give up or surrender, even with dragging a halfway immobile heavy cruiser, a battleship and myself - although I will freely admit, that my powerplant is not exactly on par with any of theirs, I am not weak. My geared turbines could tow anything, thank you very much!
The question was always, how fast I would be towing.
So, Miss Dia was getting help at towing one and a half ships, maybe not at high speeds, but we shouldn't push for flank, after all, Whona was heavily wounded. Who knew, what that would do to her wounds?

On the sea floor.
As Nevlamas passed the many corpses on the sea floor, one twitched.
The submarine of Yoanie's little force of submarines, the one sunken, was still alive, hanging onto life by the last thread. It was basically dead, but not quite yet.
It was no danger, all torpedoes spent.
And it knew that.
So, she gave a longing look after Nevlamas, her broken, unmasked face looking towards her as she passed, longing in her eyes... longing for life. She had been unworthy, though. She did not deserve to live. Only to die at this lonely place...

As Nevlamas continued covering her retreating allies, her sonar panned out in all directions, she couldn't help but look around her, mostly at the sea floor. She could see wrecks all around her, and she figured that she was below right where the Abyssals had taken the majority of their casualties. Well, that, and the fact that the wrecks on her sonar and what she could see with the Mk. I eyeball didn't look natural, having the distinct lines and daemonic outlines of Abyssal vessels.

Well, thank Chankee they're dead now, the Sleetavian told herself. Even then, it would not do to let her guard down now, not while her comrades depended on her for support and blowing up key targets. Her suspicions were raised only more as she passed the wreckage of an Abyssal submarine. She looked a little bit at the sub, comparing it's shape to her own. While the Abyssal on the sea floor may have looked sharp and deadly in her heyday, the debris around her told Nevlamas that that sub's days were over. Meanwhile, the hunter ace was still in her (Hopefully for a good, long while) prime, once again serving not just her nation, but all of Humanity as well.

And that thought just made her feel dandy on the inside. Now, where was she-

Wait a fuck, did that thing just twitch?

Indeed, the sub Nevlemas had thought to be nothing but dead as a dodo was now staring at her. And what's more, it was unmasked too. It's eyes told the Sleetavian a number of things: It was broken, beaten, and left for dead by her allies. Whatever was propelling it to survive, Nevi didn't know, but it wasn't taking any hostile action. Her hydrophones weren't picking up flushing tubes, flooding ballasts, sound from the inside of the sub.

It was just an Abyssal submarine, at Death's Door, staring her mortal enemy in the face.

Nevi broke her escorting pattern to get a little closer to the Abyssal, but she was unsure of what to do. Obviously, the sub would die some time later from her injuries, and the Tyskhou-class was torn between putting the thing out of it's misery and just leaving it be.

''Hju, sram tu benfi zxa gurthern ki?''

Nevlamas listened to her Skipper's words. Taking this thing as a prisoner?

''Dei, sor mon shar'tyn ponsi erkart'i'', she replied back to her captain. It wouldn't do to have a prisoner die on the way back to base, and by the looks of this thing it was going to die any minute now. But maybe, just maybe...

Nevlamas got right up to the crippled sub, rummaging through the debris for anything that may have survived the explosion. As she expected, there was nothing of value that was in and/or around the sub. There was only one thing to do now. She reached forwards, towards the neck of the Abyssal...

SNAP!

The sound of breaking cartilage, if heard by any other surrounding submarines, would have registered on hydrophones. With that done, and without looking back, Nevlamas turned back to her previous pattern, all thoughts now directed towards covering her damaged allies....

On the seafloor.
As the Abyssal Submarine's neck was snapped, she did the only thing she could: She died.
Swiftly, impersonally, dishonoured.
With Yoanie and her companion retreating, the only remaining threads for the kanmusu was now from the surface and from above that, they were not yet safe. Not by a long shot they were safe yet.
But for that little submarine on the seafloor, the war was not only over, her life had left her eyes and she was left to rot or to be salvaged, whatever came first.

-snip-

HLFFS Heaveforetrekker / HLTS Hazel
Sector DN-15

I've wrangled, and I've tacked, and I've 'ared 'round,
But I've ne'er ein'st thought of sischtenvonland here.
Woefully, the thraw has come upon me at this time.
Bring forth my anchor, sichtenvonland was nigh.

Aye, aye, sichtenvonland was nigh and in reach.
At last I can land here for the blakehelligenacht.
But ne'er shalt I sleep yet, ne'er by these lands.
Nor shalt I be shrouded by vereinsamung so near.

The lands beyond the shore were ever schon,
So much as the blue seas I sailed upon before.
And the grass so ever green,
And the grass so ever green.

As I overcome the last of the strandseas,
Near the ever salted ostlichwinds and seas,
The heavens brought me the lone crow.
O' my but only one crow, aye indeed I see.

Why so much forth the crow has come?
Where must he had built his nest here?
Or more to come forth 'round these parts,
What makes him come and schutteln his wings?

No way must I be sailing again 'till dark.
The winds and tide would send me aloft,
All to no coming back this time to land like this.
Nor if I was reeling my 'mainsails' as I anchored.

I abide the seas as much as I abide the winds 'round... after all...

Heba.
Her reconnaissance plane relayed its findings to its mother-cruiser, who raised an eyebrow - the beautiful kanmusu was not following it, instead dropping anchor in a lonely, well-secluded bay, where she could easily hide.
Heba frowned.
She could not leave her post until she was officially relieved and she would not draw anyone's ire onto her for a stunt like that, so she was at a bit of an impassee - until an idea struck her.
Readying another reconnaissance plane, she attached a small message to it's bomb rack on a small piece of paper, written in gruff, insecure latin letters: Identify.
To say, that her English was rudimentary would be a great compliment to Heba, who spoke barely a few words. Still, she wanted to know the beautiful kanmusu's name, as her reconaissance plane dropped the message close to the kanmusu's hiding place.

[Suoji]

Jokosuka
Jokosuka turned around and sighed. He would now help to form the rear guard as the Kanmasu retreat. As soon as he got back to the frontlines he had to retreat again. What a shame. He hoped he could take out a few more abyssal planes before the end, but no. Still, he had to keep on high alert, with fresh abyssal fighters that seemed to be coming in, he wouldn’t want anyone to get hit on their final journey back. Earlier seemed like so long ago now - he still had that hat given to him by that destroyer. Everything seemed so peaceful then, and now he didn’t have a clue where either of the two escorts that accompanied him and Catherine were. He forgot how terrible war could be.

Josura
Josura was tired now. It was good that he was now at the base. Underwater, it was easy to lose track of everything above him. He liked it that way. The A90 mini-subs were now residing back in his hangars so he could use up the last fuel reserves for himself. He surfaced as he neared the base. He had been imagining it for a while. It must be beautiful, at least that was what he fought. He finally rose up from the water, and got his first look of the base.

He was shocked. Half the base was up in flames. He didn’t like flames. The base had been attacked and was now destroyed. He would have to quickly get out of the water, and help them repair it. This battle was worse than he thought.

[Kraicia]

-snip-

HLFFS Heavenforetrekker / HLTS Hazel
Sector DN-15

So over the Nachmittagscheiden,
The crow verschwinded farenout,
His blakefeders swept out full,
Sailing into the winds over the seas and lands.

Here I was, else so, left anchored,
Naught so much beached either,
But safe from the sagenhaftseasundwinds.
But why was I aloft in my own self?

Why was this sonderbar? Verunglimpfingly?
Ah well that is ‘cause I saw the crow again,
But this was not the same one long ago.
No, this was not right at all. Why was that?

The other crow flew to me true,
But I caught no totenabsich at all.
But why did the crow give me something?
The gift being this false bombshell.

Indeed, the bomb fell far away from me,
But why miss me if I’m anchored here?
The sands of the shore was the bomb landed.
Not all farenout from where I anchored off.

All my mainsails had been fully reeled up,
But I let the tides among the shore let me in.
Rifting as I forth come on the sands anmutigly,
Sailing onto land like Sundaleshirewellenreiters (1).

Taking the bomb from the trankensands,
I yonder from hurling the bomb back,
Being that the bomb opened for me,
And out was this note asking my selfhoodship.

But why was this in the olden Romespeak?
I ask why for as much I understand naught.
I was not of the HLFFS, I am among the HLTS.
So, Hazel was who I am upon the note.

---

(1). Sundaleshirewellenreiters (Kraician English translation for, “Californian Surfers”)

[The Cross and Davids Star]

Salvation

Salvation, nodded, agreeing with his patient.

"Of course, attempting to flee now would be the death of us. Waiting until the night is definitely our best course of action." He said, looking on at his fleeing allies.

Locust

Confident that I had lost them, I released myself from the sand, only to get knocked back down by one last charge, which definitely caused some pain. But I knew it was only one charge that time, and assumed that they sent one more to ensure my demise. I knew then that I had lost them, which meant it was the time to strike. Identifying the ships with ASW capabilities, I put them at top priority, since once those are gone, it would be easy to clean up the rest. Releasing my minisubs, they had a significantly less sonar return than I did as they approached the destroyer escorts. Locking aim, the minisubs released their torpedos at the destroyers before diving back down to me to rearm for the next attack. I had the initiative here, but I had to hurry before they realize what's going on.

[Novaya Equestria]

snip

Sea Battle

"Any ships that needed help MUST be brought to us, so hurry!" Said Novaya as Shinosaki joined Coriolanus in carrying Catherine, Broadsword approaching the carriers with Chrysantheme and Molihua escorting him, Novaya himself contemplating whether to launch aircraft, and Shiroiyuki joining Coriolanus's group all the while calling the green skinned Abyssals "Kerbals" and the pale skinned Abyssals "Palefreaks." That sounds a bit, but incredibly racist towards any pale skinned Abyssals, right? "Those Palefreaks have Kerbals! Something tells me there'll be a Kerbal Space Program, this time run under Palefreak supervision!" Said Shiroiyuki as she hurriedly head towards the carriers. "Don't be racist!" Exclaimed Novaya. "Sorry." Apologized Shiroiyuki.

Naval Base

"Those guys are gonna need air support! Bring up every light fighters and heavy fighters and divide into two groups: one to protect the armada once they entered our waters and the other to protect the Naval Base's airspace!" Major General Tohka said as the 17th Marine Amphibious Group and the Kampfgruppe Lehr 1st Regiment sets up medical tents, tents, and medical bunkers and trenches (which had bunkers for medical purposes) while also manning or building AA guns to protect the Naval Base's airspace. The troops also helped in repairing the base while putting out the fires. Novayan fairies stood on the docks, awaiting the ships' return.

[Legatia]

LNS Coriolanus

---

At Sea, Sector DN-17|Operational Sector Wide Sea- Southwest|1000 hours

Coriolanus took only a short breath. Looking beside at the only battleship heavier than her, she could see in the distance the warships of the hostile battlegroup. The carriers and the others were already on the move, but she waited until the last of the transports had pulled off before she patted Caty on the shoulder, maneuvering with her putting her broadside inbetween the transports and releasing a deafening salvo towards the hostile combatants outfield.

Looking off to the carriers, she noted the smoke- she would be having a talk at length with Prophet, but at least now she had something positive to be said about his initiative. The initiative of the rest of the fleet, she noted, was not something that was praiseworthy, but in due time the debrief would be covering the rest of that.

"Rhiannon, Flag. Once you're clear of the shore you're linking up with us. Everyone else, keep straight towards the base." She turned again and fired a second salvo of AP rounds out towards the Baka-Prince's battlegroup, before sending another transmission.

"Flag to any and all ships at base. Anyone that is combat-capable and uninhibited, sortie immediately and remain on standby for orders. Out." She turned to Catherine again, and without a word, picked up her speed about the rear of the flanks. She could only pray that everyone would make it back without a loss.

[Rustyal]

Empress Catherine
Serving as fleet rear guard

Catherine sighed as she didn't even flinch from Coriolanus's gunfire. She simply attempted to get an accurate rangefinding on them. However, this was where her main weakness would come in- she can't fire her main guns close to allies. "Kommandier, my guns have a 12 km window-shattering
shockwave... I can't fire my primaries unless I break off." She scratched the back of her head, nervously chuckling. This was a bit embarrassing on her part, but she couldn't do much about it. A shit ton of gunpowder has to be used to fire those guns of hers.

[Kraicia]

-snip-

HLFFS Bailee
Fleet AA Support

“Aye.” Bailee nodded, all the while as her crews swept off the expended cartridges from the deck.

Her two 57mm twin-barreled automatic cannons were emitting a light amount of smoke from the muzzle brakes; however, that was not to say that the barrels were hot to the touch like skillets. Subsequently, Bailee shook her wrists lightly - to whom her 57mm autocannons were mounted on turret rings with partial armor protection mounted at the base of the barrels (very much like the US 40mm Bofors cannons). The Kraician sailors in their black and red sailor uniforms - Caucasian and African alike - barely felt the shaking as they cleaned up the deck hastily and preparing for another wave.

“That’s what me and my 14 other sisters were built for.” Bailee giggled lightly yet heartily, though that was before she suddenly caught her black garrison cap just as it blew into the wind.

Meanwhile, the Kraician fairies - or elves in Kraician English - were busy at work, barely taking notice of the Southern US sailors giving them strange looks from afar. Kraicians had long accepted Africans among their population; however, even they were not exempt from the harsh requirements to become Kraician citizens. Just like any non-Kraician, Africans too had to give up their previous cultural identity and permenant become Kraician citizens, and even then, their families would not be recognized as Kraicians until their third or fourth generation came along in the world.

Some of the Afro-Kraician sailors were drafted from the Afro-Holtland commonwealth colonies, such as, Cameroon, Nigeria, West Congo, and Ghana. Their accents were strong indicators of their nationality and colonial citizenship; however, their Kraician English was different from the usual US/UK English speakers. Instead of the usual pronunciation of ‘D’ (Th) and ‘W’ (V), the non-Kraician Africans sounded like they had heavy German accents, given that they were pronouncing their ‘W’ as ‘V’ and their vowels as if they were German, Scottish, and Irish vowels.

Though after all, it wasn’t long before some of the Kraician sailors saw their Southern US counterparts looking at them from afar. No words were exchanged except for some awkward saluting or brief waves or shrugs from their shoulders. Nevertheless, it didn’t take long for Bailee herself to notice her crews and promptly grumbled.

“Well? Is something wrong?”

Some of them being slightly startled, the Kraician sailors gave negative nods or a brief ‘ahem’ followed with some of the officers barking at the sailors to get back to work...

-snip-

HLFFS Blakeshire
Fleet Rearguard

“I can cover you.” Blake blurred out loud with confidence and seriousness clear in his voice. Usually he was quiet most of the time, but now he had a situation to resolve despite not being the flagship. His 6in quadruple barreled gun turrets and 30mm AA turrets was enormous amount of firepower against smaller ships and aircraft, so it only made sense for Blake to volunteer to escort Catherine.

“Ma’am, permission to escort?” Blake followed with a request to Coriolanus.

[Austria-Bohemia-Hungary]

Natsukaze - At Sea, Sector Charlie November 17, Operational Sector Wide Sea - South West

Weather today is fine but high waves, Destroyer Natsukaze mused with some measure of irony as she ploughed through them at cruising speeds towards her new assignment in the tropical clime of the Wide Sea. Here the sun was radiant, almost scorching at times and the humidity was beyond anything that would've been expected in the Home Islands, but not in the tropical country of the South Sea Islands. For the Uraga born anti-aircraft destroyer however the hot and humid weather could not have been more unbearable. Natsukaze at least had the wits about her to change from the winter uniform she wore when she left the pier of a wintry Yokosuka in January, had she still been wearing that she was pretty sure she would have toppled over from a cataclysmic heat stroke.
Beyond the rudimentary briefing Commander Yokosuka Naval Arsenal had delegated her she was totally in the dark about the specifics of this deployment. That she was sent to reinforce an international base with her antiaircraft artillery was the most of what she got out of it, the threat picture was cryptically referred to as conventional pseudoneuroi and she was down here to stake out the terrain for perhaps a larger deployment.

Natsukaze was the first of her breed of a new class of vessels the Imperial Fusō Navy, Kanmusume, compact, agile and small warships but still packed with the same firepower as their steel hulled counterparts, essentially, she was a Naval Witch.
Recently summoned, and with little domestic infrastructure in place actually capable of supporting her, Natsukaze was sent south to an international base in the tropics, both to add her combat power to it and to serve as a trial and learning experience for the Navy itself. It was in this spirit she set sail from Yokosuka Naval Arsenal in late January.

Weeks later she had arrived in the Operational Sector, ploughing through the waves as she drew closer and closer to her destination. On this morning she had actually been in range to hear the thunder of battle in the far distance, too far for even her impressive radar arrays to locate the exact source of the terrifying sounds. So she sped up, fifteen, twenty, twenty five knots, using up what remained in her fuel bunkers. Nearly an hour later, in the late morning, Natsukaze was finally within radio range of her new base.
"Destroyer Natsukaze to all stations within range; ..." Just as she was going to continue by reporting in and possibly offer assistance her VHF set picked up another open channel message:
"Flag to any and all ships at base. Anyone that is combat-capable and uninhibited, sortie immediately and remain on standby for orders. Out."
Without hesitation she immediately tapped out a response, while raising steam to her maximum possible speed of 30 knots in the sea state:
"Destroyer Natsukaze, Imperial Fusō Navy to Flag. Request Identification. Reporting for duty. Will reposition south of main base and join sortie wave as fast as possible. Report 320 10 cm; 400 8 cm; 2,000 4 cm shells; 6 Type 93 Model 1 Mod3 torpedoes; 8 37.5 cm antisubmarine rockets onboard."

[Jebslund]

Speer Null
Speer Null had been the first group to arrive, the ones originally spotted, and, by the time they were, had made it close enough that, while the quickly rolling fog would certainly hamper the efforts of the strike force as a whole, their group were at least able to get close enough to drop torpedoes before the fog got too thick to see into, though none had gotten rockets off. Each fighter had chosen a different carrier, and the nimble aircraft, despite the low altitude, had had little trouble dodging the nearly-blind fire. It was when they rose up above the radar horizon that they began taking heavy losses. By the time the other spears were on-station, the decoy group had lost half their aircraft. As they danced in the sky, occasionally making halfhearted runs at Searc, they reported the situation to the other fighters.

Spears Ein and Zwei
The Fleigendewaffels of the groups made a command decision: Until the fog lifted, the enemy was out of ammo, or the escort were out of torpedoes, they would circle out of range, the fighters turning back at the edge of 20km and returning to formation at 40, flying as erratically as possible until they were sure they were out of range. At 45 km, they began flying a racetrack pattern, waiting for the all clear from their escort/sacrificial lambs that the enemy had run out of ammunition. As they flew, the fighters kept watch for enemy aircraft or surface threats.

As for the Maschinenteufels, they continued past the 20 km line, dodging fire as best they could now that multiple ships were firing on them, using the incoming fire to guide them to the escort for torpedo and rocket runs, though aiming more accurately than that, and, indeed, seeing rounds soon enough to dodge, got dicey once they were forced to close within the fog. Unlike the decoy group, which, by now, numbered two heavily damaged aircraft, the fresh fighters remained below the radar horizon for the duration, only briefly peeking above it to ward off enemy fighters, and so took fewer losses, but losses still, with only 20 of the 30 lasting long enough to run out of rockets and take over for the now-depleted decoy group in drawing enemy fire.

Speer Drei

As with the first and second spears, the third spear retreated to 45km upon reaching the 20km line and finding the fog too obscuring for bombing, and began flying a racetrack pattern while waiting for the all clear, keeping an eye out for enemy air power and surface threats as they flew.

Battlegroup Hornissennest
[Bob, my fighters are engaged with the enemy carrier group. The enemy seems to have put up a thick fog, so the dive bombers are hanging back until they can see properly for bombing. Maschinenteufels report heavy losses. Seems the enemy is relying heavily on radar and using those vexing VT rounds.], Hornissennest reported, [As to my idea, I thought it'd be a swell idea if, after the enemy carriers are gone, I could find a nice spot near the enemy base but out of their detection range, do a bit of fishing, have a few drinks, just enjoy myself a little. And wouldn't it just be a crying shame if, when they get back from raiding Chill's former post, the enemy had nowhere to put their new bounty? If that sounds like a good plan, I'll need someone to see to it that the big guns don't have a free hand to track me down. Turmfalke and the cheerleaders can handle a few cruisers, but a battleship would be... troublesome. This all assuming the losses from the carrier strike are low enough.], she continued.

That was another thing to curse her creators for. Had her dive bombers been equipped with marine radar, or even sonar, bombing the enemy ships blind would not have been an issue. But no. It would not be until later versions that her fighters would be given that tool. Perhaps an upgrade to look forward to. As she thought things over, Hornissennest began to move, this time careful to maintain a speed Turmfalke could easily keep pace with, for a position that would allow her to more easily support both her CAP over Battlegroup Bob-ouji and her airstrike against the enemy carriers as she waited for a response and for the results of her strike at the enemy carriers.




Mary Read Kerman

Off to the northwest of Battlegroup Hornissennest-hime, Mary Read Kerman quietly, dutifully kept watch for enemy subs, her sonar pinging to the tune of the sea shanty she'd been singing earlier as she searched, grinning when her little ditty got a return. A *big* return. Deep as it was, it almost seemed like it could have been a whale, but Mary Read Kerman had a duty. "You look thirsty, giant. Have some drinks!", she quipped as her Verkaufsautomat launched depth charges, the destroyer reloading as she brought herself about to follow the sonar contact until it disappeared or stopped moving. "Ye shan't be slippin' by me, ye scurvy dog!", she barked as she dropped more depth charges, reloading and repeating as she followed. She knew they probably could hear her talking, but that was fine.

Same as Selks. Up to you if she's chasing your sub or a whale.

Note: Quote modified by removal of spoiler-tags.

Prophet

While it didn't exactly help the ships fire at the planes, the fog Prophet was providing prevented any aim for the abyssals as well, and he resolved it to be a fair, if not slightly advantageous trade. Listening to Searc, Prophet picked up speed as he retreated.

"Already on it Searc. All other carriers, stay as far into the fog as possible, we can't have anyone being bombed on the outskir-" He tried to say, but before he could finish, he was slammed on both sides by the torpedoes Speer Null let off. Thankfully, the full foot of armor on his belt prevented any major damage, it did shake his confidence, knowing that a lucky shot to his boilers will bring down his cover, leaving him and the other carriers at the mercy of the bombers circling overhead.

Salvation

Salvation looked back to Stilly, his expression softening immediately as he could see her cry. Crouching next to her, Salvation figured that some comforting was in order.

"Sorry for what? You saved my life, if it weren't for your depth charges, both of us would be quite literally dead in the water." He said before explaining how he used her depth charges to prevent a submarine ambush.

Locust

Unfortunately for me, I had engaged silent running too late, as indicated by the depth charges falling above me. In response, I launched my hands into the seafloor, pulling myself onto it and laying myself flat. The explosions from the charges did knock me around a little, but fortunately, I wasn't close enough to any of them. I had to get them off me before they start striking again, and I thought up a good plan. I released a large amount of crimson signal dye into the water, which floated up to the surface, making it appear that they either actually struck and killed me, or that they got a whale. Hopefully they'd take it, but if not, then I'd have to be prepared to go on the offensive.

Open sea

"We'll cover you, all ships retreat!" Higashikawa shouted as both him and Kaifu converged to escort the quickly escaping ships, Tokai moving backwards as she continued screening the sky for fighters while Kaguya sent a message back to base. "Strike force to base, we're making a retreat. Requesting for fighter cover if possible." Turning to see Legate, she sighed as she made a turn and threw a string onto part of her rigging. Slowly but surely, she began to get towed away from the battle as crew on board got ready to perform emergency repairs once out of the war zone.

Base

An alarm began to sound, one limited for the contingent of troops from Higher Japan as reserves were called upon, sending out fighters into the sky despite the somewhat destroyed roads as crew got to work filling it in with cement while overlaying it with some scrap metal. Running around, the twins began to quickly get to work as the fairies from their ships moved around to fix the buildings, more so the docks and shipyards upon hearing news that the strike force would be returning with news that severe damage had been received.

Sea Battle

"Dammit. This is why we NEED to step up our game, Rhiannon." Novaya said, displeased of Coeiolanus's battle plan, which is flawed thanks to the fact that the Naval Base got bombed. "Roger! Novayan landing fairies, it is time to pull return to me. We lost a lot of fairies, so we should try to rescue them as possible." Broadsword spoke to the fairies, as Molihua and Chrysantheme went to rescue any fairies in the water while Shinosaki loads Type 3 shells in case of any Abyssal aircraft that dares to come to Allied airspace. "Will do, but after I finish rescue fairies!" Chrysantheme replied, and, upon rescuing fairies, joins Searc in blasting the Abyssals. "Also, we should leave with the loot and the fairies rescued, bevause I felt that the Palefreaks might strike again." Said Shiroiyuki, who receives a warning from Novaya not to call them Palefreaks. "Sorry." Shiroiyuki replied.

Naval Base

"All fairies are to help clean the mess, but any fairies still manning tje AA guns will keep watch and guard on our airspace. We do not want another raid happening again." Said Tohka as much of the Novayan fairies went to clean up the mess the Abyssal squadrons caused. AA guns are still manned by Novayan fairies that will guard the base's airspace.

"The firefighters are hiding because you're a Nazi." The Novayan jetpack panzergrenadier fairy said as she approached Oberth. "Due to your posture, they think you'll be racist towards them and that you'll hold extreme prejudice against anyone that doesn't meet your nation's standards. That is why they're hiding from you." She added as she hovers (thanks to her jetpack) in front of Oberth. "By the way, are you going to be racially hostile towards anyone? Sorry, but I'm not sure whether I should trust you or not." The jetpack panzergrenadier fairy said. "By the way, you can call me Maria. Hmm... I wonder what Novaya and co.'s doing...?"

Sea Battle
Retreat to Base

"All warships are to converge on us carriers' positions! We have to make use of the limited air units we have! Coriolanus, have the Naval Base send air reinforcements to defend us! Till then, we'll have to make a dash for it!" Said Novaya to Coriolanus.

Raketenkreuzer Oberth


"Jawohl, I will find them," Oberth said, snapping off a Nazi salute with an accompanying, "Heil Hitler!" before moving to find the freighters. It was a menial task, perhaps. But nonetheless, orders were orders, and orders had to be followed. The foundation of her upbringing beyond all else- perhaps maybe the Party Line of the NSDAP- was the unquestioned following of orders. She started down towards the loading docks, where one would expect freighters to be. "Fräuleins! The air battle ist over!" She called out, in heavily-accented English, "Zer ist nussink to fear!" She repeated it in German. Rascally freighters, always hiding. She never had been good at the base hide-and-seek- somehow, the SS officers always seemed to find her, even when she hid in the attics or the floorboards. But nonetheless she pressed onwards in search of the missing freighters.

HMBS Legate


To put it bluntly, Legate was not ready for another air attack so soon. Her damage control had barely gotten the flight deck fire under control, but then came the jets, sweeping forward with incredible speed the likes of which Legate's fire directors simply couldn't handle. Legate was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck, listing already from the torpedo, anti-air suite firing rather uselessly, flight deck ruined. "N-need some help over here!" She called out into the radio. At this point, Legate was praying for a miracle, because even Skipper and his flyboys were hopelessly outclassed by jet fighters.

CSS Thomas Jefferson PageThis is just gonna become a thing I have to do, isn't it?: TJP does not represent my RL views.

She'd fallen behind the big Red a while back, mostly concerning herself with chasing around fighters with HLFFS Baylee, that peculiar ship with quite the number of negroes on board- not that Long Tom minded- the Confederate Navy wasn't the Confederate Armies, it technically wasn't segregated- but it had long been known that, unless every enlisted man is a negro, the best spot for a negro sailor would be in the lower-decks, away from the more combative jobs of the ship. Cooks and cleaners were no doubt still important, so it was all okay, but giving negroes gunnery crew positions when there were perfectly good whites on board for the job was generally considered a path to trouble, one way or another. "I thunk we won!" TJP said, glancing at the girl grinning, "Nawt a plane in the sky 'ere anymo'!"

Searc. With the retreating carriers.
The first group was quickly convinced, that their attacks were not going to end well and tried to play with me as the Carrier Group got its move on. Someone would need to drag Legate to safety, I knew as I was more concentrating on spending my last VT-shells halfways effectively. While Chrysantheme did a good job, doing her job as a AA-vessel and as a vessel rescuing survivors were not mutually exclusive.
I was quickly running out of VT-shells. What would be left were the few shots of canister I had and those were... complicated, to say the least.
The second group used our fire to direct their own. They did so well, more then one torpedo whizzing barely past me, my radio officer reporting torpedo trajectories for the carriers to dodge, until a few lucky shots connected. Not torpedoes, thank the Gods, but rockets.
I felt one smashing into my gut, another one into the AA-guns on my right shoulder, cooking off the ammunition there, another one to my knee. Another rocket connected with the quiver - while they would become deadly salvoes of 135mm-shells once they left the sinew, they were only arrows while still in the quiver.
And they broke like that, too.
That my fingers were still in there didn't exactly help. My fingers were mangled.
"Huh...", I made, not exactly in danger of sinking right about now, but getting there as my propulsion was close to be taken out, my AA-complement had seen better days and my ammunition didn't blow up, but was destroyed. "Time for a tactical regrouping, I believe."
And that was, what I began, my last remaining AA-guns giving their best in warding off the enemy planes, passing Chrysantheme - patting her on the shoulder as a signal, that she should follow the carriers into the smoke screen with me.

[shnip]

Battlegroup Baka-Prince. Sector DN-15.
[That sounds like a lovely idea. Commence the operation and if you need anything, tell me.], Bob agreed to Hornissennest with a small smile as it indeed was a great idea, [If you catch some fish, I have a few good recipies we could try out.]
That send, he nodded to his secretary and his other two battleships - two Elite Ta-classes, one Elite Re-class. In addition to that, his Flag Group's three destroyers. And of course, Wolftraud and Chiarra with their groups.
[I take, that you want me to occupy their rearguard so that the massive waste of ressources has to turn if she wants to engage us?], he asked the Carrier Princess over radio.

Enagegment with Locust(?)
The destroyers picked up the cloud of red rising, the colour striking them as odd...
...but maybe it was just a whale, their leader concluded and began to send out pings again, searching for sneaky little submarines trying to intrude into their perimeter. Silly of them to try with submarines so close to them.
They would all die.
Only one destroyer remained at the place for a moment, believing the colour to be... very much unlike blood. That vessel dropped another depth charge, just to be sure, that the whale was put out of its misery and then followed his comrades.

[shnip]

Open sea

"We'll cover you, all ships retreat!" Higashikawa shouted as both him and Kaifu converged to escort the quickly escaping ships, Tokai moving backwards as she continued screening the sky for fighters while Kaguya sent a message back to base. "Strike force to base, we're making a retreat. Requesting for fighter cover if possible." Turning to see Legate, she sighed as she made a turn and threw a string onto part of her rigging. Slowly but surely, she began to get towed away from the battle as crew on board got ready to perform emergency repairs once out of the war zone.

Base

An alarm began to sound, one limited for the contingent of troops from Higher Japan as reserves were called upon, sending out fighters into the sky despite the somewhat destroyed roads as crew got to work filling it in with cement while overlaying it with some scrap metal. Running around, the twins began to quickly get to work as the fairies from their ships moved around to fix the buildings, more so the docks and shipyards upon hearing news that the strike force would be returning with news that severe damage had been received.

[shnip]

HMBS Legate

Searc. With the carriers.

-Snip-

To put it bluntly, Legate was not ready for another air attack so soon. Her damage control had barely gotten the flight deck fire under control, but then came the jets, sweeping forward with incredible speed the likes of which Legate's fire directors simply couldn't handle. Legate was, for all intents and purposes, a sitting duck, listing already from the torpedo, anti-air suite firing rather uselessly, flight deck ruined. "N-need some help over here!" She called out into the radio. At this point, Legate was praying for a miracle, because even Skipper and his flyboys were hopelessly outclassed by jet fighters.

Prophet

While it didn't exactly help the ships fire at the planes, the fog Prophet was providing prevented any aim for the abyssals as well, and he resolved it to be a fair, if not slightly advantageous trade. Listening to Searc, Prophet picked up speed as he retreated.

"Already on it Searc. All other carriers, stay as far into the fog as possible, we can't have anyone being bombed on the outskir-" He tried to say, but before he could finish, he was slammed on both sides by the torpedoes Speer Null let off. Thankfully, the full foot of armor on his belt prevented any major damage, it did shake his confidence, knowing that a lucky shot to his boilers will bring down his cover, leaving him and the other carriers at the mercy of the bombers circling overhead.

[shnip]

snip

Sea Battle

"Any ships that needed help MUST be brought to us, so hurry!" Said Novaya as Shinosaki joined Coriolanus in carrying Catherine, Broadsword approaching the carriers with Chrysantheme and Molihua escorting him, Novaya himself contemplating whether to launch aircraft, and Shiroiyuki joining Coriolanus's group all the while calling the green skinned Abyssals "Kerbals" and the pale skinned Abyssals "Palefreaks." That sounds a bit, but incredibly racist towards any pale skinned Abyssals, right? "Those Palefreaks have Kerbals! Something tells me there'll be a Kerbal Space Program, this time run under Palefreak supervision!" Said Shiroiyuki as she hurriedly head towards the carriers. "Don't be racist!" Exclaimed Novaya. "Sorry." Apologized Shiroiyuki.

Naval Base

"Those guys are gonna need air support! Bring up every light fighters and heavy fighters and divide into two groups: one to protect the armada once they entered our waters and the other to protect the Naval Base's airspace!" Major General Tohka said as the 17th Marine Amphibious Group and the Kampfgruppe Lehr 1st Regiment sets up medical tents, tents, and medical bunkers and trenches (which had bunkers for medical purposes) while also manning or building AA guns to protect the Naval Base's airspace. The troops also helped in repairing the base while putting out the fires. Novayan fairies stood on the docks, awaiting the ships' return.

Speer Ein:
As the Maschinenteufels made their runs, they listened carefully for sounds that could help them identify any hits, using the sounds to figure out where the ships were, calling the coordinates out to the waiting dive bombers as they went. By the time the jets ran out of useful munitions, they had at least three ships zeroed in on, and relayed the information, as well as reports that VT fire had ceased, to the dive bomber group as they began filing out in groups of five, the majority having taken moderate damage, the last five out being barely airworthy, to rearm and refuel. 20 fighters fleeing in the hopes that 10 would be whole enough for another run.

Speer Zwei:
No sooner had the Maschinenteufels left than the Fliegendewaffels arrived, using the last known positions, as well as the movement of the leading edge of the fog, to estimate trajectories. Though all of the dive bombers arrived while flying at their service ceiling, their jammers would, they were sure, render them all but invisible to the enemy's radar, and the very fog cloud that hampered the attack would make visual spotting near-impossible at that distance. Making their bombing runs, on the other hand, would be tricky, and it didn't help that more ships had arrived.

Twenty fighters made runs on the newcomers as the remainder picked out targets and made dives on the enemies in the fog, paying special attention to the most wounded vessels and the wounded light cruiser, and only releasing armament if they could see the enemy, despite the fire that strategy exposed them to. They were built tough. The incoming fire stung the fighters something fierce, but it would take quite a bit to kill them. For now, the bombers left the ship generating the fog alone. They knew where several ships had been and were going, and even how fast, and the fog would hinder the enemy's spotting and aiming. For now, it was of more importance that they strike at the other vessels and deliver as many 600kg armor-piercing bombs (of which each fighter had 2) as possible before they changed course.

None of the Fliegendewaffels stuck around after running out of bombs, each leaving to rearm as soon as they were free of their burden. If they lost their quarry, they'd simply go for the center of the fog upon their return.

Battlegroup Baka-Prince. Sector DN-15.
[That sounds like a lovely idea. Commence the operation and if you need anything, tell me.], Bob agreed to Hornissennest with a small smile as it indeed was a great idea, [If you catch some fish, I have a few good recipies we could try out.]
That send, he nodded to his secretary and his other two battleships - two Elite Ta-classes, one Elite Re-class. In addition to that, his Flag Group's three destroyers. And of course, Wolftraud and Chiarra with their groups.
[I take, that you want me to occupy their rearguard so that the massive waste of ressources has to turn if she wants to engage us?], he asked the Carrier Princess over radio.

Battlegroup Hornissennest

Hornissennest watched with mixed feelings as the air strike proceeded, at once happy to be bloodying the enemy's nose and irritated that the ships were still moving. As she continued to move to a position to better support the strike, she smiled a Bob's remark about the waste of resources. [That would be much appreciated. As to anything I need, a few escort fighters, if you can spare them, would do quite nicely. Seems my Gremlins took a beating in the initial run on the carrier group.], she responded, irritated at the losses but knowing there wasn't much for it. Aircraft didn't always come back, and the losses could be replaced. [Fernglas 1, Fernglas 2, Hilfe beim Angriff des Trägers. Alle Speergruppen wollen, dass diese Träger auf dem Meeresgrund oder unterwegs unterwegs sind, wenn ich auf der Station bin.]

Spyglass 1, Spyglass 2, help with the carrier assault. All Spear groups, I want those carriers sailing the ocean floor or on their way by the time I'm on-station.

Mary Read Kerman

Mary Read Kerman tasted the water as the red began flowing up, grinning as she tasted copper and stopping her barrage as she waited, hoping the corpse would float up and not down. The destroyer's patience was rewarded minutes later as a large carcass floated to the surface, minus a few bits that had been caught in the blasts of depth charges. [Prinzessin, ich habe einen Wal gefangen! Erlaubnis, mit einem Sonobuoy für den Abruf zu markieren, damit Kerriott es kochen kann?], she asked as she circled the whale, looking for more contacts and already imagining what delicious foods Kerriott would dream up to use the whale for.

Princess, I caught a whale! Permission to mark with a sonobuoy for retrieval so Kerriott can cook it?

LNS Coriolanus

---

At Sea, Sector DN-17|Operational Sector Wide Sea- Southwest|1000 hours

Coriolanus took only a short breath. Looking beside at the only battleship heavier than her, she could see in the distance the warships of the hostile battlegroup. The carriers and the others were already on the move, but she waited until the last of the transports had pulled off before she patted Caty on the shoulder, maneuvering with her putting her broadside inbetween the transports and releasing a deafening salvo towards the hostile combatants outfield.

Looking off to the carriers, she noted the smoke- she would be having a talk at length with Prophet, but at least now she had something positive to be said about his initiative. The initiative of the rest of the fleet, she noted, was not something that was praiseworthy, but in due time the debrief would be covering the rest of that.

"Rhiannon, Flag. Once you're clear of the shore you're linking up with us. Everyone else, keep straight towards the base." She turned again and fired a second salvo of AP rounds out towards the Baka-Prince's battlegroup, before sending another transmission.

"Flag to any and all ships at base. Anyone that is combat-capable and uninhibited, sortie immediately and remain on standby for orders. Out." She turned to Catherine again, and without a word, picked up her speed about the rear of the flanks. She could only pray that everyone would make it back without a loss.

snip

Sea Battle

"Any ships that needed help MUST be brought to us, so hurry!" Said Novaya as Shinosaki joined Coriolanus in carrying Catherine, Broadsword approaching the carriers with Chrysantheme and Molihua escorting him, Novaya himself contemplating whether to launch aircraft, and Shiroiyuki joining Coriolanus's group all the while calling the green skinned Abyssals "Kerbals" and the pale skinned Abyssals "Palefreaks." That sounds a bit, but incredibly racist towards any pale skinned Abyssals, right? "Those Palefreaks have Kerbals! Something tells me there'll be a Kerbal Space Program, this time run under Palefreak supervision!" Said Shiroiyuki as she hurriedly head towards the carriers. "Don't be racist!" Exclaimed Novaya. "Sorry." Apologized Shiroiyuki.

Naval Base

"Those guys are gonna need air support! Bring up every light fighters and heavy fighters and divide into two groups: one to protect the armada once they entered our waters and the other to protect the Naval Base's airspace!" Major General Tohka said as the 17th Marine Amphibious Group and the Kampfgruppe Lehr 1st Regiment sets up medical tents, tents, and medical bunkers and trenches (which had bunkers for medical purposes) while also manning or building AA guns to protect the Naval Base's airspace. The troops also helped in repairing the base while putting out the fires. Novayan fairies stood on the docks, awaiting the ships' return.

Battlegroup Hornissennest

[Hornissennest. Water Harbor Demon, Bob, I am breaking off to better support my airstrike. If any carrier-capable fighters can be spared, I will support and carry them to the best of my ability. I have lost fully 40% of my escort/torpedo fighters. The enemy carrier group is currently shrouded in fog.], Hornissennest reported as she continued on her way, already about 10km from her previous position. Mary Read Kerman's message was met with a smile as Hornissennest debated reporting the whale to Bob. [My destroyer landed herself a whale. If any shipping is in the area, it'd be nice of them to pick it up. If not, we'll grab it on the way home. It'll be marked by a sonobouy. I'm breaking off now.], she reported, [Mary Read Kerman, die Erlaubnis erteilt. Sie dürfen EINEN verwenden. Nach oben gehen. Ich bewege mich, um den Angriff auf die gegnerischen Träger zu unterstützen.], she ordered. The need for radio silence, given where they were headed, was so apparent that not even the Cheerleaders needed to be told. And then the rounds flew in, missing just aft of Turmfalke. [This is Hornissennest. Incoming fire. Repeat, I am under fire, likely from a battleship. Requesting support.], Hornissennest calmly reported, despite the scowl on her face.

Mary Read Kerman, permission granted. You may use ONE. Move up. I am moving up to support the assault on the enemy carriers.

[The Selkie]

Jokosuka
Jokosuka turned around and sighed. He would now help to form the rear guard as the Kanmasu retreat. As soon as he got back to the frontlines he had to retreat again. What a shame. He hoped he could take out a few more abyssal planes before the end, but no. Still, he had to keep on high alert, with fresh abyssal fighters that seemed to be coming in, he wouldn’t want anyone to get hit on their final journey back. Earlier seemed like so long ago now - he still had that hat given to him by that destroyer. Everything seemed so peaceful then, and now he didn’t have a clue where either of the two escorts that accompanied him and Catherine were. He forgot how terrible war could be.

Josura
Josura was tired now. It was good that he was now at the base. Underwater, it was easy to lose track of everything above him. He liked it that way. The A90 mini-subs were now residing back in his hangars so he could use up the last fuel reserves for himself. He surfaced as he neared the base. He had been imagining it for a while. It must be beautiful, at least that was what he fought. He finally rose up from the water, and got his first look of the base.

He was shocked. Half the base was up in flames. He didn’t like flames. The base had been attacked and was now destroyed. He would have to quickly get out of the water, and help them repair it. This battle was worse than he thought.

-snip-

HLFFS Heavenforetrekker / HLTS Hazel
Sector DN-15

So over the Nachmittagscheiden,
The crow verschwinded farenout,
His blakefeders swept out full,
Sailing into the winds over the seas and lands.

Here I was, else so, left anchored,
Naught so much beached either,
But safe from the sagenhaftseasundwinds.
But why was I aloft in my own self?

Why was this sonderbar? Verunglimpfingly?
Ah well that is ‘cause I saw the crow again,
But this was not the same one long ago.
No, this was not right at all. Why was that?

The other crow flew to me true,
But I caught no totenabsich at all.
But why did the crow give me something?
The gift being this false bombshell.

Indeed, the bomb fell far away from me,
But why miss me if I’m anchored here?
The sands of the shore was the bomb landed.
Not all farenout from where I anchored off.

All my mainsails had been fully reeled up,
But I let the tides among the shore let me in.
Rifting as I forth come on the sands anmutigly,
Sailing onto land like Sundaleshirewellenreiters (1).

Taking the bomb from the trankensands,
I yonder from hurling the bomb back,
Being that the bomb opened for me,
And out was this note asking my selfhoodship.

But why was this in the olden Romespeak?
I ask why for as much I understand naught.
I was not of the HLFFS, I am among the HLTS.
So, Hazel was who I am upon the note.

---

(1). Sundaleshirewellenreiters (Kraician English translation for, “Californian Surfers”)

LNS Coriolanus

---

At Sea, Sector DN-17|Operational Sector Wide Sea- Southwest|1000 hours

Coriolanus took only a short breath. Looking beside at the only battleship heavier than her, she could see in the distance the warships of the hostile battlegroup. The carriers and the others were already on the move, but she waited until the last of the transports had pulled off before she patted Caty on the shoulder, maneuvering with her putting her broadside inbetween the transports and releasing a deafening salvo towards the hostile combatants outfield.

Looking off to the carriers, she noted the smoke- she would be having a talk at length with Prophet, but at least now she had something positive to be said about his initiative. The initiative of the rest of the fleet, she noted, was not something that was praiseworthy, but in due time the debrief would be covering the rest of that.

"Rhiannon, Flag. Once you're clear of the shore you're linking up with us. Everyone else, keep straight towards the base." She turned again and fired a second salvo of AP rounds out towards the Baka-Prince's battlegroup, before sending another transmission.

"Flag to any and all ships at base. Anyone that is combat-capable and uninhibited, sortie immediately and remain on standby for orders. Out." She turned to Catherine again, and without a word, picked up her speed about the rear of the flanks. She could only pray that everyone would make it back without a loss.

snip

Sea Battle

"Any ships that needed help MUST be brought to us, so hurry!" Said Novaya as Shinosaki joined Coriolanus in carrying Catherine, Broadsword approaching the carriers with Chrysantheme and Molihua escorting him, Novaya himself contemplating whether to launch aircraft, and Shiroiyuki joining Coriolanus's group all the while calling the green skinned Abyssals "Kerbals" and the pale skinned Abyssals "Palefreaks." That sounds a bit, but incredibly racist towards any pale skinned Abyssals, right? "Those Palefreaks have Kerbals! Something tells me there'll be a Kerbal Space Program, this time run under Palefreak supervision!" Said Shiroiyuki as she hurriedly head towards the carriers. "Don't be racist!" Exclaimed Novaya. "Sorry." Apologized Shiroiyuki.

Naval Base

"Those guys are gonna need air support! Bring up every light fighters and heavy fighters and divide into two groups: one to protect the armada once they entered our waters and the other to protect the Naval Base's airspace!" Major General Tohka said as the 17th Marine Amphibious Group and the Kampfgruppe Lehr 1st Regiment sets up medical tents, tents, and medical bunkers and trenches (which had bunkers for medical purposes) while also manning or building AA guns to protect the Naval Base's airspace. The troops also helped in repairing the base while putting out the fires. Novayan fairies stood on the docks, awaiting the ships' return.

Natsukaze - At Sea, Sector Charlie November 17, Operational Sector Wide Sea - South West

Weather today is fine but high waves, Destroyer Natsukaze mused with some measure of irony as she ploughed through them at cruising speeds towards her new assignment in the tropical clime of the Wide Sea. Here the sun was radiant, almost scorching at times and the humidity was beyond anything that would've been expected in the Home Islands, but not in the tropical country of the South Sea Islands. For the Uraga born anti-aircraft destroyer however the hot and humid weather could not have been more unbearable. Natsukaze at least had the wits about her to change from the winter uniform she wore when she left the pier of a wintry Yokosuka in January, had she still been wearing that she was pretty sure she would have toppled over from a cataclysmic heat stroke.
Beyond the rudimentary briefing Commander Yokosuka Naval Arsenal had delegated her she was totally in the dark about the specifics of this deployment. That she was sent to reinforce an international base with her antiaircraft artillery was the most of what she got out of it, the threat picture was cryptically referred to as conventional pseudoneuroi and she was down here to stake out the terrain for perhaps a larger deployment.

Natsukaze was the first of her breed of a new class of vessels the Imperial Fusō Navy, Kanmusume, compact, agile and small warships but still packed with the same firepower as their steel hulled counterparts, essentially, she was a Naval Witch.
Recently summoned, and with little domestic infrastructure in place actually capable of supporting her, Natsukaze was sent south to an international base in the tropics, both to add her combat power to it and to serve as a trial and learning experience for the Navy itself. It was in this spirit she set sail from Yokosuka Naval Arsenal in late January.

Weeks later she had arrived in the Operational Sector, ploughing through the waves as she drew closer and closer to her destination. On this morning she had actually been in range to hear the thunder of battle in the far distance, too far for even her impressive radar arrays to locate the exact source of the terrifying sounds. So she sped up, fifteen, twenty, twenty five knots, using up what remained in her fuel bunkers. Nearly an hour later, in the late morning, Natsukaze was finally within radio range of her new base.
"Destroyer Natsukaze to all stations within range; ..." Just as she was going to continue by reporting in and possibly offer assistance her VHF set picked up another open channel message:
"Flag to any and all ships at base. Anyone that is combat-capable and uninhibited, sortie immediately and remain on standby for orders. Out."
Without hesitation she immediately tapped out a response, while raising steam to her maximum possible speed of 30 knots in the sea state:
"Destroyer Natsukaze, Imperial Fusō Navy to Flag. Request Identification. Reporting for duty. Will reposition south of main base and join sortie wave as fast as possible. Report 320 10 cm; 400 8 cm; 2,000 4 cm shells; 6 Type 93 Model 1 Mod3 torpedoes; 8 37.5 cm antisubmarine rockets onboard."

Base. Docklands.
As Josura left the water by the Naval Base's Docks, he was received by the howl of sirens belonding to a row of firetrucks, which whizzed past him, using the rather clear streets of the Docklands to circumvent the more destroyed parts of the base one would have to pass through to get to the place they were needed.
A moment later, a horse-mounted fairy (sitting on an appropriately small horse) flagged Josura down, waving him to stay for a moment as he spoke into a radio on the horse's back.
"Miuil, new arrival.", the radio would declare to Josura a moment later, "Welcome to the Sector. Introductions will have to wait for a bit, for now we need an overview of where it is precarious. By any chance, do you have observation planes?"

8th SDF-Navy Air Squadron, Red Leader.
The 12 Giodrog Torpedo Bombers, who could ward off quite a few fighters on their own, if the situation demanded it, flew in formation, Red Flight in the lead, Green and Gold Flights to either flanks. They had brought themselves up after the first bombs had fallen and did receive quite a lot of shrapnel from Novayan AA-batteries long after the enemy had disappeared.
To the point, that five of their planes had to be either abandoned or emergency landed... he would have words with whoever was responsible for that. Words, which most likely resulted in Blunt Force Traumas along the way, but words nonetheless.
9th NAS had lost most of their M-22s in the bombing runs.
Red Leader frowned, however, as he flew over the Docklands, where a new vessel was landing, and the radio relayed the new 'orders'. With trigger-happy AA-gunners, it would be a potential deathtrap for any aircraft to stay over the base, so he would like to avoid that.
Still, he had to reply: "Red Leader, Control, 8th NAS on interception course for the fleet. Relay appropriately. 8th NAS - Heading 1-8-0, altitude 1-0, speed 1-8-0. Red Flight, three Giodrogs with one eel each, Green Flight, four Giodrogs with one eel each, Gold Flight, five Giodrogs with one 8-0-0-k-g bomb each. Light to medium damages.", he reported and changed course and altitude, "I see the requested relief forces assembling."
And indeed, he did...

Lodan Lir. In front of the Base.
Following the call from the flagship, a nice sounding lassie, who I would not object to get to know solely by the sound of her voice, I donned my rigging again and headed out, joining a lassie already out. She was... I would guess either a large destroyer or a destroyer leader, maybe even a light cruiser on the lighter side of light, judging by her appearance, around Searc's size, maybe.
She seemed nice, if a bit formal and a lot younger then me, as aircraft passed above us, with SDF-Markings.
I adjusted my bandana with one hand as my eyes checked my bow, then checked if my quiver was where it was supposed to be and filled with arrows with many different colours of fletching. A grin spread on my face as she introduced herself.
I followed her example and trasmitted on the flag frequency: "SDFS Lodan Lir, SDF-Navy, right behind Natsukaze and ready for combat. Ready to receive the enemy with friendly shells and rockets. Course south at 19 knots." I grinned at the destroyer charmingly, hoping that my cruise speed was not a snail's speed for her. "By all means, lassie, lead the way - I'm in your care."
Gods, that sounded like from an old codger...

Rhiannon. Landing Group.
"Rhiannon, Flag. Understood, will join with you in a few minutes.", I spoke into my radio and looked at the assembled vessels with me, motioning into the general direction of the rearguard. "Let's go, everyone. Broadsword, your cruise speed is our speed."
In the distance, I could see the smoke plumes of gunfire, as well as the towering form of Caty - well, we would be safe from any surface threat, that was for sure, but as the enemy apparently discovered a new liking for air power, we had to be careful on that front as well.
Not to mention submarines.
It would be a day, which would end with a lot of talking, that was for sure.

Heba.
As the plane came back with a reply, the He-class Light Cruiser with a liking for seaplanes smiled: HLTS Hazel.
What a fitting name..., she thought and thought about what to do next. Of course, the beautiful lassie must know, that Heba was an Abyssal, the planes were rather unmistakeable, but that she replied at all bode well.
So, Heba decided to return the favour of introduction: Heba., she wrote onto the paper in shaky letters, then sent it back again. It felt a bit like in school, passing notes in secrecy.

Speer Ein:
As the Maschinenteufels made their runs, they listened carefully for sounds that could help them identify any hits, using the sounds to figure out where the ships were, calling the coordinates out to the waiting dive bombers as they went. By the time the jets ran out of useful munitions, they had at least three ships zeroed in on, and relayed the information, as well as reports that VT fire had ceased, to the dive bomber group as they began filing out in groups of five, the majority having taken moderate damage, the last five out being barely airworthy, to rearm and refuel. 20 fighters fleeing in the hopes that 10 would be whole enough for another run.

Speer Zwei:
No sooner had the Maschinenteufels left than the Fliegendewaffels arrived, using the last known positions, as well as the movement of the leading edge of the fog, to estimate trajectories. Though all of the dive bombers arrived while flying at their service ceiling, their jammers would, they were sure, render them all but invisible to the enemy's radar, and the very fog cloud that hampered the attack would make visual spotting near-impossible at that distance. Making their bombing runs, on the other hand, would be tricky, and it didn't help that more ships had arrived.

Twenty fighters made runs on the newcomers as the remainder picked out targets and made dives on the enemies in the fog, paying special attention to the most wounded vessels and the wounded light cruiser, and only releasing armament if they could see the enemy, despite the fire that strategy exposed them to. They were built tough. The incoming fire stung the fighters something fierce, but it would take quite a bit to kill them. For now, the bombers left the ship generating the fog alone. They knew where several ships had been and were going, and even how fast, and the fog would hinder the enemy's spotting and aiming. For now, it was of more importance that they strike at the other vessels and deliver as many 600kg armor-piercing bombs (of which each fighter had 2) as possible before they changed course.

None of the Fliegendewaffels stuck around after running out of bombs, each leaving to rearm as soon as they were free of their burden. If they lost their quarry, they'd simply go for the center of the fog upon their return.

Battlegroup Hornissennest

Hornissennest watched with mixed feelings as the air strike proceeded, at once happy to be bloodying the enemy's nose and irritated that the ships were still moving. As she continued to move to a position to better support the strike, she smiled a Bob's remark about the waste of resources. [That would be much appreciated. As to anything I need, a few escort fighters, if you can spare them, would do quite nicely. Seems my Gremlins took a beating in the initial run on the carrier group.], she responded, irritated at the losses but knowing there wasn't much for it. Aircraft didn't always come back, and the losses could be replaced. [Fernglas 1, Fernglas 2, Hilfe beim Angriff des Trägers. Alle Speergruppen wollen, dass diese Träger auf dem Meeresgrund oder unterwegs unterwegs sind, wenn ich auf der Station bin.]

Mary Read Kerman

Mary Read Kerman tasted the water as the red began flowing up, grinning as she tasted copper and stopping her barrage as she waited, hoping the corpse would float up and not down. The destroyer's patience was rewarded minutes later as a large carcass floated to the surface, minus a few bits that had been caught in the blasts of depth charges. [Prinzessin, ich habe einen Wal gefangen! Erlaubnis, mit einem Sonobuoy für den Abruf zu markieren, damit Kerriott es kochen kann?], she asked as she circled the whale, looking for more contacts and already imagining what delicious foods Kerriott would dream up to use the whale for.

Battlegroup Hornissennest

[Hornissennest. Water Harbor Demon, Bob, I am breaking off to better support my airstrike. If any carrier-capable fighters can be spared, I will support and carry them to the best of my ability. I have lost fully 40% of my escort/torpedo fighters. The enemy carrier group is currently shrouded in fog.], Hornissennest reported as she continued on her way, already about 10km from her previous position. Mary Read Kerman's message was met with a smile as Hornissennest debated reporting the whale to Bob. A smile which turned into a glare as the rounds landed just aft of Turmfalke. [They know we're here. I'm breaking off now. Mary Read Kerman, die Erlaubnis erteilt. Sie dürfen EINEN verwenden. Nach oben gehen. Ich bin unter Beschuss und bewege mich, um den Angriff auf die Träger zu unterstützen.], she reported/ordered. The need for radio silence was so apparent that not even the Cheerleaders needed to be told.

Searc. With the carrier group.
Being rear guard sucked. And it sucked hard.
My AA-guns did the best they could, but without VT-shells, they were not helpless, but quite at a disadvantage against the incoming bombers, especially as half of them were silent - there were bombs coming in from above and I made my peace.
Fitting, that it would be me, who paid for my mistakes. Every bomb those Abyssal planes dropped on me was a bomb, which would not be dropped onto the retreating carriers and even I knew, that I was not a capital ship, when the day ended - I was an escort, I was supposed to die and kill so that the capitals could get all of the glory.
I saw a bomb coming directly my way, I smiled.
And then the 600 kg armour piercing bomb connected with my face. I didn't even hear the explosion, I went down without a sound (safe for the explosion) and... Peace. Silence.
No sound, for but a fleeting moment, then guilt - mistakes made during my career as a warship of steel and a kanmusu, filing past me. Wrong done to me in either careers.
Guilt. Anger.
Hate.
Eyes opening to gaze into the motherly red eyes of the person, who held me close to her substantial chest. [Ah.], the Harbour Water Demon stated, [You're awake, my child. What is your name?]
[Searc.], I told her, [Tsu-class Light Cruiser, built by humans to protect them, discarded like a broken toy as I outlived my usefulness, wronged and wronging myself... I am at your service, my Lady.]

Battlegroup Baka-Prince. Sector DN-15.
Bob nodded to himself, then ordered over radio: [Wolftraud, one squadron of your purple fighters, the Banshees, send them to Hornissennest.]
The jet fighters would do wonderfully to support the little adventure, even if Hornissennest would be unable to support them, they had to fly back to Wolftraud for that, he thought as he prepared the next set of orders.
[Rudder hard port!], Taalke suddenly shouted and all hell broke loose as indeed, the entire group shifted rudders hard to port, out of the path of most incoming torpedoes. Hydrophones had told the battleship, that there were torpedoes incoming, but not from where, but without PT-boats and torpedo bombers in the general area, it kind of narrowed it down.
A few torpedoes connected, but where they connected, the massive warships endured or, in one case, the torpedo did not detonate. Even Bob himself was hit, but it hardly stung - he was a Heavy Cruiser Prince, after all.
But most had been focussed on the destroyers. However, Iantha, Ia and Iatiana had been too fast, a few detonating dangerously close to the Late Model I-class Destroyers in their wakes, shaking them through and even causing damages, but they endured, too - not as well as he or his battleships did, but they endured. Ia limped, however, trailing behind her sisters.
And they came around, their sonars sending out pings to locate the submarines, while the battleships launched their floatplanes from their catapults to search for the little buggers as well.
[Bob to all units, be aware of submarines in the general area.], he spoke into his radio calmly as he made way away from the position of the engagement, the destroyers covering the retreat of the larger units.
They were lucky to be alive.

[Legatia]

LNS Coriolanus

---

At Sea, Sector CN-17|Operational Sector Wide Sea- Southwest|1200 hours

The reports came in without anyone needing to tell her. Searc was hit by a bomb and sunk. She had known since that damned Prince showed up they'd be taking losses, but she didn't want to loose hope.

She did not cry for her. She could not. Her grimace only tightened as she watched her sink, and watched the aircraft buzz away. That carrier was a direct threat- she knew that their best chance of making this last leg home was disabling that damn carrier. The only person that could do that? Her. The move was incredibly dangerous, and if it were anyone else, she'd yell at them if they did it with their own initiative. But.. she had to make the decision. And she made it.

"Catherine, take command of the rearguard. I'm splitting off." Turning to her port, the battleship arced off, sailing a good few kilometers from the main group, alone. Her guns rotated from their positions, and trained straight on the far-off carrier. The guns pulled up to their maximum elevation, and her fire control centers calculated the distance, the range, wind, shell weight, everything. These shots would have to count. All nine of her turrets tracked the same target- the carrier.

"All turrets- load HEI. Firing solution acquired, prepare to fire."

The rounds rolled into place, pushed into the breech and staring straight out. A bout of tension struck her, as she gripped.. and finally yelled.

"Impes!"

A roar rocked her side as the explosive shells rocketed out from their guns, nine eighteen inch shells of fire streaking through the sky like an arrow shot true.

Twenty seconds, she waited, twenty seconds until the rounds were reloaded. One through nine, all in sync.


"Impes!" The rounds once again shot out and away, off into the distance. Smoke spilled out from the guns, onto the ocean, as she only became more infuriated. Finally, she cried out again, and the detonation shook her. In her rear turret, one of the shells detonated in the breech, wrecking the gun and the turret. While the other two shells fired, the gun was disabled, and quickly set on fire. Her magazine, thankfully, was not in harms way. She would be fine, but the turret was done for. She gritted in pain as she saw it burn, as her breath caught up to her heavily.

Twenty-six rounds of high-explosives on one target. The travel time was abysmal, but those calculations were the best she had. All she could do now was pray that fortune favored her, as she leaned in her rigging.

"..All ships. Flag." She breathed into her radio, staring towards the base on the horizon. "Flank speed to base. Any ships available at base for sortie, cover the withdrawal and provide antiair support. 8th NAS- prioritize air cover and engage opportunistically if realistic. I doubt hostile fighters will pursue where land based fighters can operate, but stay safe. Get to port as soon as you can. Out."

Holding the western far flank of the group, her speed was quickly approaching her to the carrier group. She would not loose another. They were too close.

[Yekrenia]

ARY Lanza Blanca
Friendly Base - Repair Bath

Bueno, mierda. Even after getting to safety, the base still gets under attacked hours after that little ... batalla ... of mine last night. Oh eso es jodidamente hermosa... simplemente hermosa...

No, pero en serio, my internal whining won't help anything at this point. Si, my legs were still sore, but duties called for this little attack. Pero fue una pena que se me hizo tarde.

Yes you heard that right - for once I'm late to the battlefield. Having dragged myself out of that bano, yes... I was initially limping nude for a moment. Pero, getting to the battlefield took some ... complicaciones.

---

Moments Ago

A sip of my tea came with no slurp or not even the click of my mouth. As a lady (or gentlemen), you don't sip tea loudly. I don't care what the Chinese and Japanese say about slurping, but you don't slurp with tea - the French will say the same too.

All was quiet with Rosario residing quietly in the bano across the way. I have to say that this was all too peaceful and quiet; however, upon putting my tea down on its coaster, it happened...

There was a small ripple from tea, which I still had my fingers on. Maybe it was me just putting the cup down a little too hard than gentle, so I thought nothing of it as I relinquished my hand. Sighing quietly, I sat back into the bano...

But after a moment of sitting back, I felt a more powerful rumble that didn't just shake the tea cup, but it cause the bath water to ripple too. Just what the hell could cause such a rumble this badly around here?

Hay una sesión de entrenamiento cerca? Maybe someone is failing super hard right now in training, but I can't say I be too sure of that. Pero, I don't remember a training session being held today if I'm correct.

Suddenly, there was a muffled explosion outside that changed everything. Dios mio! That didn't sound like an accident, not when I heard the distance shouting of my duendes outside of the bathhouse.

Their cries were a clear sign of what was going on outside - an air raid. Esos demonios simplemente no saben cuándo darse por vencido. And here these demons are with their bombarderos, which was what my duendes were shouting about.

On board myself, my duendes were popping out on deck to find out what the situation was all about. But now it was my turn to respond, and it was a surprise for the other non-Yekrenese duendes patrolling the banos.

With a grumble, I leaned forward and slowly got myself out of the bano. I still had a couple more hours of repairs, but I was perfectly fine to walk again. Y si, no tengo nada en mi, tu pervertidos.

If any of the boys were around with lecherous looks, I march over to them and drown them myself, but this was my lucky day. The only thing I had to do was walk my way out of here, redress, and get back out on the battlefield.

My legs were a little sore yet I cared less when I walked over to the dressing area and got myself back in my clothes. The air raid sirens by now had rang outside, all the while as I got my clothes back on; however, I now had a new pair of jackboots.

Followed with another rumble, then I had to finally see what awaited for me outside, given all the air raids and the shouting outside. Ah mierda, that's when I remembered - my sword and 16in gun turrets were at the docking area.

Dios omnipotente, please the docks not be destroyed when I go out there. With a sign of the cross as I finished dressing back into my outfit (yes that's also me in that photo), I walked outside.

(Post is open for anyone at the docks to reply)

[Novaya Equestria]

Naval Base

"Come on! Let's prepare our aircraft and protect them while they're retreating!" Said the Novayan fairy Brigadier General Tohka Tomoshima as the Knights of Salta rushed to their aircraft as the already-airborne Novayan air units land on the runway for refuel in order to patrol again while avoiding any obstacles that MIGHT potentially kill anyone. "Hey, Tohka! Kindly energize us with your boost, would ya?" A pilot from the Knights of Salta said. Brigadier General Tohka then gathered several female Novayan fairies and grabbed books. The first row of four female fairies stood on the ground level, the second row on the first row of the spectator seating, and the third row standing on the second row. Music can be heard from music device as Tohka's singing group sang as they flip and spin the book(s) to a page with such accuracy and perfection.

LEGEND: Tohka, Novayan Cheerleaders, All

"One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It' up to you!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
OK, it's on!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!

One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
OK, it's on!

The morale-boosting song, which was based on a certain song from a certain game, was repeated, causing a surge of energy from the Novayan fairies to finish refueling and rearming the aircraft and bring out the Knights of Salta's other aircraft that remained grounded. A squadron from the Knights of Salta was ready to launch on the Naval Base Air Command's orders.

[Rustyal]

Empress Catherine
Serving as rear guard

Catherine's anti air guns would be remain high alert, JUST IN CASE of an attack. You can never be too safe on a ship like Cath, but. You get my point. Catherine was sailing at a steady 15 knots, staying in formation as she watched Coriolanus ponder, and give her the order to stay back. "...D-Da, Kommandier." A shame, no? Such a grand ship and such big guns silenced without a word- but you know what? That's fine, by Cath's standards. She sighed, rubbing her own head. A headache had come on from the whole mental breakdown she had just had.

The Rustyan Battleship Fortress only then realized that a loss had occured. It was then her calm stature faded slightly, and her expression was generally more saddened. She hadn't known Searc too well, but it hurt to have lost ships like that. She had no idea why, at that point. With the many K-class and I-class destroyers she's seen blown to smitherines by enemy Battleship Fortresses, you'd think she'd be immune to death emotionally. However, that wasn't the case. It just... felt horrible, in general.

However, contrary to that sadness, a small vessel had perked up and offered to escort her. "...Well, sure! I don't see why not!" She giggled, leaning over and patting Blakeshire. Catherine smiled warmheartedly, looking back over to Coriolanus as she broke from formation.

[Kraicia]

-snip-

HLFFS Heavenforetrekker / HLTS Hazel
Sector DN-15

Hazel had no idea she was in danger, not even stopping to consider that these ‘crows’ were actually abyssal recon planes launch from this certain cruiser abyssal. Being a civilian ship had its pros and cons, given Hazel’s Q-ship role for hiding her true identity. A major advantage with being a sailing Q-ship is that the enemy doesn’t take you serious and get distracted by your elegance; however, being civilian also leaves that someone naive and ignorant - little bit so for Hazel.

Hazel subsequently sat on the beach after writing her note, though she needed to get away from view. The abyssals were one thing, but it was the sun and heat that became bothersome to the Kraician sailing submarine Q-ship; however, Hazel stayed long enough for another ‘crow’ to come along and drop another dud nearby. This time, the note from the dummy bomb read out a name - it was a ship named Hebe.

Now she didn’t know where this ‘Hebe’ was sending messages, but there was one thing that Hazel knew from the way this was working. This ‘Hebe’ was either far away or in a remote location that cannot be accessed very easily. Subsequently, upon sitting underneath a palm tree, Hazel kept her eyes metaphorically peeled to that way she can keep a lookout for this ‘Hebe’; however, that was just it - she didn’t know what she was looking for.

Nevertheless, this didn’t stop Hazel from getting comfortable. Her boots were only like buckets whenever she walked upon the sandy beaches - basically kicking up sand and scooping them into her boots. So upon shortly removing her boots and becoming barefoot, Hazel took one more look at her ‘lateen sails’ and made sure they were reeled up (on her arms) before she leaned back to relax at last.

But then came the ultimate question as Hazel written it on the back side of the new message, where are you...?

-post up above-

HLFFS Blakeshire
Fleet Rearguard

"Wonderful, I just been padded like some winzigjunge." Blakeshire muttered to himself in thought as his usual stoic and blank face returned. Embarrassment and a tiny hint of sarcasm was in his words, all from being treated like a lesser entity; however, that is unfortunately true. Given that he was a light cruiser, it was rational to say that Blake was lesser than the supersized battleship sailing next to him.

Being 6’0ft tall, Blake felt a strong sense of puniness when he was patted on the head by the 7'6ft tall Rustyal super battleship. But at the same time, embarrassment and nervousness were threatening to come forth to the front his mind. If he was brutally honest in voice, he could've chuckled out feeling the strong touch of the Rustyal super battleship; however, being calm and composed was whom he was in character - not an easily- so-persuaded fool of a man.

If anything, he had the other Kraician ships nearby that could spot him and call him out personally as violating the 'sterile' policy enforced [indirectly and passively] by the Kraician Roman Catholic Church and [directly] by the military. Kraicia is a gender and racial neutral country, so much as it was a socially conservative and monoethnical society. Subsequently, Kraicia has both male and female as well as multiple races among the ranks of their military, very much like the US, but more liberal and accepting; however, that also means that both opposing genders cannot interact intimately in the line of duty, nor is homosexuality/lesbian relationships accepted either given Kraicia's conservative and traditional society and culture.

Nevertheless, Blakeshire stayed true to his word and followed the Rustyal super battleship as they broke formation. According to Blake's point of view, Catherine would handle the ship-to-ship combat, Blake himself would handle the skies and smaller ships that get in range. While it was only him and Catherine, Blake can only hope that other smaller ships would follow, and hopefully that be the destroyers and cruisers - too bad that Bailee was with a certain Southern US destroyer in mind elsewhere among the fleet.

---

HLFFS Gibson Grover
Fleet Carriers

The last of the MB-52 helicopters finally made it to safety after picking up the last of the Kraician marines. The marines in mind had found themselves stranded in the water after their LCVP has been shot to pieces, so it only made sense to pick up as many survivors as possible while in the retreat. At the same time, however, a few LCVPs had managed to return in one piece, with entire or most of what was left of the marine squads and platoons.

If one was to guesstimate incorrectly, one might think that the Kraician marines appeared like British soldiers; however, that would be incorrect to say for s couple reasons. First, the marines were wearing dark green camouflage, especially since the marines had received their training in Afro-Holtland Commonwealth colonies. Lastly, and most importantly, nearly half of the Kraician marines were African - whom were natives among Africa or the autonomous Caribbean islands - while the remainder were Caucasians and Middle Easterns (Arab-Holtland Commonwealth; Yemen and Oman).

Among the Kraician marines were the 57th Holtland Marine Regiment, infamously known as the Zillion Zulus (Z.Z. Regiment). As one of the fewest Africans-only regiments in the Kraician imitation (as opposed to the usually culturally mixed or Caucasian doninant regiments), the Zillion Zulus were comprised of southern Africans, many of whom are affiliated with the Zulu tribe and exploited by the Kraician colonial military forces as fanatical and elite marines or soldiers. Similarly fanatical like the Japanese, the Zillion Zulus were the definite answer to the elite forces of the Axis Powers; however, the Zillion Zulus were not without their own flaws.

The Zillion Zulus were constantly left with wounded and dead throughout the Second World War - this marine landing upon the abyssal airbase was no exception. This was partly because of the Zillion Zulus’ lower quality weapons, but it was also due to the fact that the Zillion Zulus were often the first marines on the beaches to charge into battle and lead the way (no Ugandan pun intended; Uganda was not among the Afro-Holtland commonwealth). So it came to none of the Kraicians’ surprise that the Zillion Zulus would return with many wounded or dead as usual.

But even so, the marines had gotten a good beating so far...

[Austria-Bohemia-Hungary]

Natsukaze - At Sea, Sector Charlie November 17, Operational Sector Wide Sea - South West

Going south now on an intercept course with the force coming out of the base at her best of 4th Combat Speed of thirty knots, Natsukaze initiated her pre-battle checks and grew increasingly concerned as she went down through the list of items: Turbines in optimal condition, sea state not optimal for flank speed running, ammunition load is half for the heavy artillery, 24% for the 4 cm autocannons, no torpedo reloads... luggage still onboard... this wouldn't last me long in a firefight at all... I'll do what I can but there's better be support coming forthwith, or hopefully the Enemy won't appear... as if the latter was going to happen... She was interrupted in her train of thoughts by a call from a purple haired lad older than her, with an estimated displacement twice hers. Some measure of concern flashed past Natsukaze's mind as she heard that he was barely doing 1st Combat Speed or 19 knots, since she herself was nearing 4th or 30 knots. Raising her hand her ears she transmitted back in her best English: "Natsukaze, my pleasure to meet you Rodan Rir but you will have to accelerate up to pace with me at 30 knots. I doubt we have much time... I also think that you as a light cruiser should take the lead."

Approaching the base at speed, Natsukaze made a second transmission, now on her secure channel system, to the Flagship: "Natsukaze to Flag, joining sortieing forces from base from the north at speed with one light cruiser at this time. My ammunition load is estimated at 40%, will not last long in a firefight, will however do what I can as far as the shells last."
Closing the radio, she fired up her Type 42-2-31 air search radar, preparing for another anticipated airstrike.

[Kraicia]

Naval Base

"Come on! Let's prepare our aircraft and protect them while they're retreating!" Said the Novayan fairy Brigadier General Tohka Tomoshima as the Knights of Salta rushed to their aircraft as the already-airborne Novayan air units land on the runway for refuel in order to patrol again while avoiding any obstacles that MIGHT potentially kill anyone. "Hey, Tohka! Kindly energize us with your boost, would ya?" A pilot from the Knights of Salta said. Brigadier General Tohka then gathered several female Novayan fairies and grabbed books. The first row of four female fairies stood on the ground level, the second row on the first row of the spectator seating, and the third row standing on the second row. Music can be heard from music device as Tohka's singing group sang as they flip and spin the book(s) to a page with such accuracy and perfection.

LEGEND: Tohka, Novayan Cheerleaders, All

"One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It' up to you!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
OK, it's on!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!

One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
OK, it's on!

The morale-boosting song, which was based on a certain song from a certain game, was repeated, causing a surge of energy from the Novayan fairies to finish refueling and rearming the aircraft and bring out the Knights of Salta's other aircraft that remained grounded. A squadron from the Knights of Salta was ready to launch on the Naval Base Air Command's orders.

Kraician Aerial Base Squadrons
Base Airfield

"Come on, toss along the wee gags, lads!" The hollering of the many Kraician pilot fairies shouted as he and the rest of his fellow pilots scrambled to their aircraft; however, unlike the other pilot fairies, this pilot fairy and handful of others had a different aircraft to bring to bear.

Unlike the Fighter-Bomber pilots of the MB-05, these particular group of pilots scrambled to the hangar bays to find their own weapon of choice; a new Kraician aircraft known simply by one name, the D11. There lying in wait of the hangar bays were the distinctive angular shape of the D11 fighter jet, with the maintenance crews ready to pull away the metal stair steps the moment the pilots got into their fighter jets. Plus, unlike the other pilot fairies (even the MB-05 pilots), the D11 pilot fairies retained a distinctive flight suit and flight apparatus that allowed them sustain the high speeds and extreme G-forces of the new jet fighter's manoeuvrability.

The abyssals had thought it be okay to deploy a swarm of bomber squadrons to the base and mottle the airfield like trash, so it made sense that the Kraician jet pilots were out with an excited vengeance alongside the Novayans. Unlike the experienced and venerable MB-05 pilots, the D11 pilots were new and recently finished a full course of training back in Kraicia; however, this was not their first combat mission, since the D11 pilots had already engaged the aerial abyssal threat on day one. Almost all the D11 pilot fairies were young, approximately around their mid to late 20s, and their youth was clearly evident by their excitement and energy as they quickly climbed up to their D11 cockpits.

The whirring of the small yet distinctive W44/47 Turbojet was barely audible at first amid the deafening noise of the Novayan and Kraician prop-driven airplanes alike; however, it was only after a couple or a few minutes that the jet engines became louder and ready for take-off, with their pilots giving to thumbs up. Outside of the D11 jets, the maintenance crews guided the D11 jet fighters one at a time and helping them get onto the airfield while making sure the D11s avoided the craters and potholes that littered the tarmac. Meanwhile, the pilots had hooked up their apparatuses to their cockpit's life support systems, and the simplicity of the controls allowed the D11 pilot fairies to quickly understand every single detail (e.g. Fuel, Altitude, Orientation, and Thrust) while manoeuvring into position.

Unfortunately, the MB-05 Fighter-Bombers had already taken to the skies much sooner than the D11s, and this was only due to the fact the MB-05s had extreme long range by comparison of the D11 fighter jets; however, the D11 pilot fairies nevertheless were given the signal to take to the skies to assist the other fighter aircraft. The D11 pilot in mine received the signal to take off through his radio headset in his breathing apparatus, and his response came together like clockwork. With his only words being spoken without hesitation, "Affirmative, this Bowman Leader, ready for takeoff."

Subsequently, while there was the flocks of other D11 squadrons awaiting near the airstrip, the D11 squadron leader was gentle yet decisive as he pushed the throttle forward and allowing him to get up speed before lifting off into the sky. The roaring of the jet engine echoed down the airstrip, which gave some of the maintenance crews a brief unpleasant surprise to the new jet fighters as they covered their ears. Aside from noise, the D11 squadron leader was followed not too far behind by the other D11 fighter jets, not to mention that the radio chatter among the other D11s was a clear indicator of their status.

Meanwhile back on the ground, it didn't take long for the Kraician maintenance and repair crews to take notice of what the Novayans were doing alongside. A duo of Kraician maintenance crews on the ground - one African and the other Caucasian - looked aloft towards the Novayans cheering on the spectator seats. And it was at that moment that the native Afro-Holtland alerted the other Kraicians nearby.

"Well behold the coming of Christmas day, look what we have here!"

"Aye?!" One of the other Caucasian-skinned Kraicians barked as they were returning from guiding one of the D11s to the tarmac, "What's this sight ya'll speak of?"

"The Novys are singing away, that's what!" The Caucasian-skinned Kraician aside the African Kraician reported, jealously and a competitive attitude seeping from his voice.

"Singing? Who said singing?" A third Caucasian-skinned Kraician shouted as he came into view with a couple other Kraicians with the same skin color in addition with a second African.

"Well, who do you think?" The first Caucasian shrugged jokingly next to his African brethren.

But it was at that moment that the second African laughed briefly, "Hell we know you said that. But guess what?"

"Aye?"

"The English and the Marklanders (Americans) happened to be so kind to gather us our own gleeband (music assembly). So you know what that means, aye?"

"Aye, aye!" All the Kraicians except the African himself replied back in sudden joy.

"Damn right!" The second African cheered back before he turned to one of the hangars and signaled the Kraician, British, and American band to start playing. Dressed in their respectable formal dress attire, the US retained their blue and white dress marine uniform; the Brits and Kraicians retaining their black dress marine uniform. The only difference being the Kraicians and the British were that the Kraicians had black and red peaked caps while the British had white and red peaked caps.

On ready, the Kraician conductor in his dress marine uniform did a silent 'one, two, three' count with his conductor baton before the Kraician, British, and American band began their first musical reply with their formal jubilant instruments...

"Eagle Squadron is here, lads!" The second African Kraician hollered, with the other Kraicians - pilots and crews alike - chanting 'URA' in near unison, "For the heavens and seas free for all! To the skies, lads!"

[The Selkie]

LNS Coriolanus

---

At Sea, Sector CN-17|Operational Sector Wide Sea- Southwest|1200 hours

The reports came in without anyone needing to tell her. Searc was hit by a bomb and sunk. She had known since that damned Prince showed up they'd be taking losses, but she didn't want to loose hope.

She did not cry for her. She could not. Her grimace only tightened as she watched her sink, and watched the aircraft buzz away. That carrier was a direct threat- she knew that their best chance of making this last leg home was disabling that damn carrier. The only person that could do that? Her. The move was incredibly dangerous, and if it were anyone else, she'd yell at them if they did it with their own initiative. But.. she had to make the decision. And she made it.

"Catherine, take command of the rearguard. I'm splitting off." Turning to her port, the battleship arced off, sailing a good few kilometers from the main group, alone. Her guns rotated from their positions, and trained straight on the far-off carrier. The guns pulled up to their maximum elevation, and her fire control centers calculated the distance, the range, wind, shell weight, everything. These shots would have to count. All nine of her turrets tracked the same target- the carrier.

"All turrets- load HEI. Firing solution acquired, prepare to fire."

The rounds rolled into place, pushed into the breech and staring straight out. A bout of tension struck her, as she gripped.. and finally yelled.

"Impes!"

A roar rocked her side as the explosive shells rocketed out from their guns, nine eighteen inch shells of fire streaking through the sky like an arrow shot true.

Twenty seconds, she waited, twenty seconds until the rounds were reloaded. One through nine, all in sync.


"Impes!" The rounds once again shot out and away, off into the distance. Smoke spilled out from the guns, onto the ocean, as she only became more infuriated. Finally, she cried out again, and the detonation shook her. In her rear turret, one of the shells detonated in the breech, wrecking the gun and the turret. While the other two shells fired, the gun was disabled, and quickly set on fire. Her magazine, thankfully, was not in harms way. She would be fine, but the turret was done for. She gritted in pain as she saw it burn, as her breath caught up to her heavily.

Twenty-six rounds of high-explosives on one target. The travel time was abysmal, but those calculations were the best she had. All she could do now was pray that fortune favored her, as she leaned in her rigging.

"..All ships. Flag." She breathed into her radio, staring towards the base on the horizon. "Flank speed to base. Any ships available at base for sortie, cover the withdrawal and provide antiair support. 8th NAS- prioritize air cover and engage opportunistically if realistic. I doubt hostile fighters will pursue where land based fighters can operate, but stay safe. Get to port as soon as you can. Out."

Holding the western far flank of the group, her speed was quickly approaching her to the carrier group. She would not loose another. They were too close.

-snip-

HLFFS Heavenforetrekker / HLTS Hazel
Sector DN-15

Hazel had no idea she was in danger, not even stopping to consider that these ‘crows’ were actually abyssal recon planes launch from this certain cruiser abyssal. Being a civilian ship had its pros and cons, given Hazel’s Q-ship role for hiding her true identity. A major advantage with being a sailing Q-ship is that the enemy doesn’t take you serious and get distracted by your elegance; however, being civilian also leaves that someone naive and ignorant - little bit so for Hazel.

Hazel subsequently sat on the beach after writing her note, though she needed to get away from view. The abyssals were one thing, but it was the sun and heat that became bothersome to the Kraician sailing submarine Q-ship; however, Hazel stayed long enough for another ‘crow’ to come along and drop another dud nearby. This time, the note from the dummy bomb read out a name - it was a ship named Hebe.

Now she didn’t know where this ‘Hebe’ was sending messages, but there was one thing that Hazel knew from the way this was working. This ‘Hebe’ was either far away or in a remote location that cannot be accessed very easily. Subsequently, upon sitting underneath a palm tree, Hazel kept her eyes metaphorically peeled to that way she can keep a lookout for this ‘Hebe’; however, that was just it - she didn’t know what she was looking for.

Nevertheless, this didn’t stop Hazel from getting comfortable. Her boots were only like buckets whenever she walked upon the sandy beaches - basically kicking up sand and scooping them into her boots. So upon shortly removing her boots and becoming barefoot, Hazel took one more look at her ‘lateen sails’ and made sure they were reeled up (on her arms) before she leaned back to relax at last.

But then came the ultimate question as Hazel written it on the back side of the new message, where are you...?

-post up above-

HLFFS Blakeshire
Fleet Rearguard

"Wonderful, I just been padded like some winzigjunge." Blakeshire muttered to himself in thought as his usual stoic and blank face returned. Embarrassment and a tiny hint of sarcasm was in his words, all from being treated like a lesser entity; however, that is unfortunately true. Given that he was a light cruiser, it was rational to say that Blake was lesser than the supersized battleship sailing next to him.

Being 6’0ft tall, Blake felt a strong sense of puniness when he was patted on the head by the 7'6ft tall Rustyal super battleship. But at the same time, embarrassment and nervousness were threatening to come forth to the front his mind. If he was brutally honest in voice, he could've chuckled out feeling the strong touch of the Rustyal super battleship; however, being calm and composed was whom he was in character - not an easily- so-persuaded fool of a man.

If anything, he had the other Kraician ships nearby that could spot him and call him out personally as violating the 'sterile' policy enforced [indirectly and passively] by the Kraician Roman Catholic Church and [directly] by the military. Kraicia is a gender and racial neutral country, so much as it was a socially conservative and monoethnical society. Subsequently, Kraicia has both male and female as well as multiple races among the ranks of their military, very much like the US, but more liberal and accepting; however, that also means that both opposing genders cannot interact intimately in the line of duty, nor is homosexuality/lesbian relationships accepted either given Kraicia's conservative and traditional society and culture.

Nevertheless, Blakeshire stayed true to his word and followed the Rustyal super battleship as they broke formation. According to Blake's point of view, Catherine would handle the ship-to-ship combat, Blake himself would handle the skies and smaller ships that get in range. While it was only him and Catherine, Blake can only hope that other smaller ships would follow, and hopefully that be the destroyers and cruisers - too bad that Bailee was with a certain Southern US destroyer in mind elsewhere among the fleet.

---

HLFFS Gibson Grover
Fleet Carriers

The last of the MB-52 helicopters finally made it to safety after picking up the last of the Kraician marines. The marines in mind had found themselves stranded in the water after their LCVP has been shot to pieces, so it only made sense to pick up as many survivors as possible while in the retreat. At the same time, however, a few LCVPs had managed to return in one piece, with entire or most of what was left of the marine squads and platoons.

If one was to guesstimate incorrectly, one might think that the Kraician marines appeared like British soldiers; however, that would be incorrect to say for s couple reasons. First, the marines were wearing dark green camouflage, especially since the marines had received their training in Afro-Holtland Commonwealth colonies. Lastly, and most importantly, nearly half of the Kraician marines were African - whom were natives among Africa or the autonomous Caribbean islands - while the remainder were Caucasians and Middle Easterns (Arab-Holtland Commonwealth; Yemen and Oman).

Among the Kraician marines were the 57th Holtland Marine Regiment, infamously known as the Zillion Zulus (Z.Z. Regiment). As one of the fewest Africans-only regiments in the Kraician imitation (as opposed to the usually culturally mixed or Caucasian doninant regiments), the Zillion Zulus were comprised of southern Africans, many of whom are affiliated with the Zulu tribe and exploited by the Kraician colonial military forces as fanatical and elite marines or soldiers. Similarly fanatical like the Japanese, the Zillion Zulus were the definite answer to the elite forces of the Axis Powers; however, the Zillion Zulus were not without their own flaws.

The Zillion Zulus were constantly left with wounded and dead throughout the Second World War - this marine landing upon the abyssal airbase was no exception. This was partly because of the Zillion Zulus’ lower quality weapons, but it was also due to the fact that the Zillion Zulus were often the first marines on the beaches to charge into battle and lead the way (no Ugandan pun intended; Uganda was not among the Afro-Holtland commonwealth). So it came to none of the Kraicians’ surprise that the Zillion Zulus would return with many wounded or dead as usual.

But even so, the marines had gotten a good beating so far...

Naval Base

"Come on! Let's prepare our aircraft and protect them while they're retreating!" Said the Novayan fairy Brigadier General Tohka Tomoshima as the Knights of Salta rushed to their aircraft as the already-airborne Novayan air units land on the runway for refuel in order to patrol again while avoiding any obstacles that MIGHT potentially kill anyone. "Hey, Tohka! Kindly energize us with your boost, would ya?" A pilot from the Knights of Salta said. Brigadier General Tohka then gathered several female Novayan fairies and grabbed books. The first row of four female fairies stood on the ground level, the second row on the first row of the spectator seating, and the third row standing on the second row. Music can be heard from music device as Tohka's singing group sang as they flip and spin the book(s) to a page with such accuracy and perfection.

The Morale Boost
LEGEND: Tohka, Novayan Cheerleaders, All

"One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It' up to you!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
OK, it's on!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
It's up to you!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
It's up to you!
OK, it's on!
Let's go fight a buncha Palefreaks!

Rah-rah sis boom bah-BOOM!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!

One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!

One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
It's up to you!
One! Two! Three!
One! Two! Three!
OK, it's on!

The morale-boosting song, which was based on a certain song from a certain game, was repeated, causing a surge of energy from the Novayan fairies to finish refueling and rearming the aircraft and bring out the Knights of Salta's other aircraft that remained grounded. A squadron from the Knights of Salta was ready to launch on the Naval Base Air Command's orders.

Kraician Aerial Base Squadrons
Base Airfield

"Come on, toss along the wee gags, lads!" The hollering of the many Kraician pilot fairies shouted as he and the rest of his fellow pilots scrambled to their aircraft; however, unlike the other pilot fairies, this pilot fairy and handful of others had a different aircraft to bring to bear.

Unlike the Fighter-Bomber pilots of the MB-05, these particular group of pilots scrambled to the hangar bays to find their own weapon of choice; a new Kraician aircraft known simply by one name, the D11. There lying in wait of the hangar bays were the distinctive angular shape of the D11 fighter jet, with the maintenance crews ready to pull away the metal stair steps the moment the pilots got into their fighter jets. Plus, unlike the other pilot fairies (even the MB-05 pilots), the D11 pilot fairies retained a distinctive flight suit and flight apparatus that allowed them sustain the high speeds and extreme G-forces of the new jet fighter's manoeuvrability.

The abyssals had thought it be okay to deploy a swarm of bomber squadrons to the base and mottle the airfield like trash, so it made sense that the Kraician jet pilots were out with an excited vengeance alongside the Novayans. Unlike the experienced and venerable MB-05 pilots, the D11 pilots were new and recently finished a full course of training back in Kraicia; however, this was not their first combat mission, since the D11 pilots had already engaged the aerial abyssal threat on day one. Almost all the D11 pilot fairies were young, approximately around their mid to late 20s, and their youth was clearly evident by their excitement and energy as they quickly climbed up to their D11 cockpits.

The whirring of the small yet distinctive W44/47 Turbojet was barely audible at first amid the deafening noise of the Novayan and Kraician prop-driven airplanes alike; however, it was only after a couple or a few minutes that the jet engines became louder and ready for take-off, with their pilots giving to thumbs up. Outside of the D11 jets, the maintenance crews guided the D11 jet fighters one at a time and helping them get onto the airfield while making sure the D11s avoided the craters and potholes that littered the tarmac. Meanwhile, the pilots had hooked up their apparatuses to their cockpit's life support systems, and the simplicity of the controls allowed the D11 pilot fairies to quickly understand every single detail (e.g. Fuel, Altitude, Orientation, and Thrust) while manoeuvring into position.

Unfortunately, the MB-05 Fighter-Bombers had already taken to the skies much sooner than the D11s, and this was only due to the fact the MB-05s had extreme long range by comparison of the D11 fighter jets; however, the D11 pilot fairies nevertheless were given the signal to take to the skies to assist the other fighter aircraft. The D11 pilot in mine received the signal to take off through his radio headset in his breathing apparatus, and his response came together like clockwork. With his only words being spoken without hesitation, "Affirmative, this Bowman Leader, ready for takeoff."

Subsequently, while there was the flocks of other D11 squadrons awaiting near the airstrip, the D11 squadron leader was gentle yet decisive as he pushed the throttle forward and allowing him to get up speed before lifting off into the sky. The roaring of the jet engine echoed down the airstrip, which gave some of the maintenance crews a brief unpleasant surprise to the new jet fighters as they covered their ears. Aside from noise, the D11 squadron leader was followed not too far behind by the other D11 fighter jets, not to mention that the radio chatter among the other D11s was a clear indicator of their status.

Meanwhile back on the ground, it didn't take long for the Kraician maintenance and repair crews to take notice of what the Novayans were doing alongside. A duo of Kraician maintenance crews on the ground - one African and the other Caucasian - looked aloft towards the Novayans cheering on the spectator seats. And it was at that moment that the native Afro-Holtland alerted the other Kraicians nearby.

"Well behold the coming of Christmas day, look what we have here!"

"Aye?!" One of the other Caucasian-skinned Kraicians barked as they were returning from guiding one of the D11s to the tarmac, "What's this sight ya'll speak of?"

"The Novys are singing away, that's what!" The Caucasian-skinned Kraician aside the African Kraician reported, jealously and a competitive attitude seeping from his voice.

"Singing? Who said singing?" A third Caucasian-skinned Kraician shouted as he came into view with a couple other Kraicians with the same skin color in addition with a second African.

"Well, who do you think?" The first Caucasian shrugged jokingly next to his African brethren.

But it was at that moment that the second African laughed briefly, "Hell we know you said that. But guess what?"

"Aye?"

"The English and the Marklanders (Americans) happened to be so kind to gather us our own gleeband (music assembly). So you know what that means, aye?"

"Aye, aye!" All the Kraicians except the African himself replied back in sudden joy.

"Damn right!" The second African cheered back before he turned to one of the hangars and signaled the Kraician, British, and American band to start playing. Dressed in their respectable formal dress attire, the US retained their blue and white dress marine uniform; the Brits and Kraicians retaining their black dress marine uniform. The only difference being the Kraicians and the British were that the Kraicians had black and red peaked caps while the British had white and red peaked caps.

On ready, the Kraician conductor in his dress marine uniform did a silent 'one, two, three' count with his conductor baton before the Kraician, British, and American band began their first musical reply with their formal jubilant instruments...

"Eagle Squadron is here, lads!" The second African Kraician hollered, with the other Kraicians - pilots and crews alike - chanting 'URA' in near unison, "For the heavens and seas free for all! To the skies, lads!"

Note: Quote modified by removal of spoiler-tags.

Rhiannon.
Something dark came into being within me as I heard of Searc. Something cold.
A cold, dark fire consuming my heart... I prided myself with bringing my people home, usually, most of the times even in one piece, but Searc... Searc was gone. That sweet, sweet lassie, who was like a little sis to me... If my body was a cannon, I would have fired my heart at the enemy.
In my head, the battle was pushed to the back of my head for but a moment.
I would have to ask Coriolanus to give my fellow SDF-vessels free for a few hours tonight, so that we could properly say goodbye to the cruiser. I would have to collect wood and build a pyre, Amy might be able to build an effigy in time... for a funeral ceremony. We did not do interment, both with our human dead or with the dead kanmusu, instead we burned them.
"..All ships. Flag.", Coriolanus' voice, breathing in exhaustion, as it seemed, tore me out of my thoughts, back into reality, "Flank speed to base. Any ships available at base for sortie, cover the withdrawal and provide antiair support. 8th NAS- prioritize air cover and engage opportunistically if realistic. I doubt hostile fighters will pursue where land based fighters can operate, but stay safe. Get to port as soon as you can. Out."
Her voice quelled that fire within my chest, but it did not put it out.
It would boil soon enough, I felt.
"Rhiannon, flag.", I spoke, my voice neutral, my bow at the ready, "Understood. Tactically advancing backwards. All units, please be careful, I'll leave mines for our very special friends."
Well, what can I say? I carry 120 naval mines and left not even half of them near Chill's remains, the other half wanted to show the Abyssals a Bad Time, too. Who was I to object their wishes? That also had the advantage of me having to travel a bit slower, which was good, because of...
"Broadsword, Gibson, stay close to the group.", I spoke to the two amphibious warfare vessels - both of which were, if my memory served me correctly, rather slow. I switched frequencies to talk to both of them more privately: "Also, you two, if... if I may ask, how are the fairies of 3 Horse?"
I knew, that most of them went aboard Broadsword, I ordered them to, but maybe some managed to get aboard Gibson as well? Our landing forces took a beating and many were wounded... it was the nature of war, but that did not make it better, as I was responsible for them."

8th NAS. Approaching the carrier group, but still out of visiual range.
"Red Leader, Flag. Understood.", the pilot leading the squadron spoke and frowned. The battle had been... pyrrhic, at best, from what he had heard. He knew, that he and his planes would be plainly visible on radar, but the carrier group was under attack - maybe their appearance on their radar screens would make the enemy think twice about his attack?
"Woah!", his reargunner suddenly said, "Observer, Pilot - base reports, that the Kraicians are taking off! Their jets are in the air!"
"Really?", the pilot spoke, "Then we already won this, if it comes to an engagement. Now we just need them here..." He switched frequency. "Red Leader, 8th NAS to Kraician Squadrons - who do I have the pleasure of escorting today?"
He would freely admit, that this was bravado: At the end of the day, he and his planes would be escorted by the Kraicians or the Novayans, should they get their rear ends up, not the other way around. He was, after all, leader of a squadron of torpedo bombers, which could hold their own in a fight, but were not dedicated fighters, and when it came to the Kraician D11s, they were screwed either way.

Naval Base.
As soon as the last notes of the songs had faded, the Selkie-Fairies near them, who had listened with interest while doing their work, began to sing themselves, a harsh and heavy marching band of an old classic of the Militias, which were more ceremonial these days.

"We all are born free and like as we exist and we soldier on.
We'll take whatever comes to be while keeping cheery melodies
And we'll march through the darkness until the warmth of dawn."

Although it was more of a recitative then singing, the Selkie working knew the words without doubt or fault, knowing them from the days they spent as young men and women marching as parts of the Younger Militias, pikes shouldered, and as a classic in pubs and taverns.

"So march, march, you bastards,
Through fields of Grass and Fire,
So march and holler, come, give it all you can,
Or the enemy, he will best us, we'll never see our land!"

Without any instruments accompanying them, they were heavily at work, trying to fix up the runway in a makeshift manner and trying if they couldn't safe their M-22s and especially their air crews: Their readiness shed had been dangerously close to one of the bombs being dropped and parts of the hangar had fallen onto the twisted remains when it, too, collapsed halfways. That did not touch upon the multitude of other things, which needed to be done besides launching and receiving planes.
Wounded needed to be tended to.
Newly established AA-gun-positions needed to be properly dug in, if the Novayans didn't want them to be moved or, worse, be used by the enemy for target practice.
Fuel lines needed to be secured, ammunition bunkers kept in check, many, many things.
In a way, not the act of listening to music raised their morale, but the act of singing their own song raised their morale, but it slowed the work down a small bit.

"We are knackered from the hardships,
Exhausted by the march - "

Suddenly, a whistle called out, belonging to one of the Sergeants of 3 Horse, who began to yell in an accent typical for the area of the Free Lands known as the Northern Islands: "If yae ruddy lot of rabbit-humping sopranoes can find thae blasted time tae sing, yae can also find the time tae do yaer bloody work, too!" He yelled and immediately, the Selkie-Fairies were reminded of the urgency of their tasks and began to work again, harder. The Sergeant turned to the choir and band. "Sorry, lassies, carry on, if yae must, but we could really use yaer hands!"

Heba.
Heba read the message with a small smile, oblivious of the beautiful kanmusu's ignorance of them actually being enemies, technically. Technically.
So, Heba, with a bit of giddyness in her heart, wrote back: Closeby. Do you want me to come over?
Truly, the kanmusu was beautiful, too beautiful for her brain to work properly, but of course she did not see it that way. Quite on the contrary, she thought, that she was fine, her judgement not clouded at all...
...one might call it a rose-tinted vision.
As her little floatplane was on its merry way again, it did miss the other floatplane, not of Heba's stock, following it, which stayed up and out of sight.

ARY Lanza Blanca
Friendly Base - Repair Bath

Bueno, mierda. Even after getting to safety, the base still gets under attacked hours after that little ... batalla ... of mine last night. Oh eso es jodidamente hermosa... simplemente hermosa...

No, pero en serio, my internal whining won't help anything at this point. Si, my legs were still sore, but duties called for this little attack. Pero fue una pena que se me hizo tarde.

Yes you heard that right - for once I'm late to the battlefield. Having dragged myself out of that bano, yes... I was initially limping nude for a moment. Pero, getting to the battlefield took some ... complicaciones.

---

Moments Ago

A sip of my tea came with no slurp or not even the click of my mouth. As a lady (or gentlemen), you don't sip tea loudly. I don't care what the Chinese and Japanese say about slurping, but you don't slurp with tea - the French will say the same too.

All was quiet with Rosario residing quietly in the bano across the way. I have to say that this was all too peaceful and quiet; however, upon putting my tea down on its coaster, it happened...

There was a small ripple from tea, which I still had my fingers on. Maybe it was me just putting the cup down a little too hard than gentle, so I thought nothing of it as I relinquished my hand. Sighing quietly, I sat back into the bano...

But after a moment of sitting back, I felt a more powerful rumble that didn't just shake the tea cup, but it cause the bath water to ripple too. Just what the hell could cause such a rumble this badly around here?

Hay una sesión de entrenamiento cerca? Maybe someone is failing super hard right now in training, but I can't say I be too sure of that. Pero, I don't remember a training session being held today if I'm correct.

Suddenly, there was a muffled explosion outside that changed everything. Dios mio! That didn't sound like an accident, not when I heard the distance shouting of my duendes outside of the bathhouse.

Their cries were a clear sign of what was going on outside - an air raid. Esos demonios simplemente no saben cuándo darse por vencido. And here these demons are with their bombarderos, which was what my duendes were shouting about.

On board myself, my duendes were popping out on deck to find out what the situation was all about. But now it was my turn to respond, and it was a surprise for the other non-Yekrenese duendes patrolling the banos.

With a grumble, I leaned forward and slowly got myself out of the bano. I still had a couple more hours of repairs, but I was perfectly fine to walk again. Y si, no tengo nada en mi, tu pervertidos.

If any of the boys were around with lecherous looks, I march over to them and drown them myself, but this was my lucky day. The only thing I had to do was walk my way out of here, redress, and get back out on the battlefield.

My legs were a little sore yet I cared less when I walked over to the dressing area and got myself back in my clothes. The air raid sirens by now had rang outside, all the while as I got my clothes back on; however, I now had a new pair of jackboots.

Followed with another rumble, then I had to finally see what awaited for me outside, given all the air raids and the shouting outside. Ah mierda, that's when I remembered - my sword and 16in gun turrets were at the docking area.

Dios omnipotente, please the docks not be destroyed when I go out there. With a sign of the cross as I finished dressing back into my outfit (yes that's also me in that photo), I walked outside.

(Post is open for anyone at the docks to reply)

Natsukaze - At Sea, Sector Charlie November 17, Operational Sector Wide Sea - South West

Going south now on an intercept course with the force coming out of the base at her best of 4th Combat Speed of thirty knots,
Natsukaze initiated her pre-battle checks and grew increasingly concerned as she went down through the list of items: Turbines in optimal condition, sea state not optimal for flank speed running, ammunition load is half for the heavy artillery, 24% for the 4 cm autocannons, no torpedo reloads... luggage still onboard... this wouldn't last me long in a firefight at all... I'll do what I can but there's better be support coming forthwith, or hopefully the Enemy won't appear... as if the latter was going to happen... She was interrupted in her train of thoughts by a call from a purple haired lad older than her, with an estimated displacement twice hers. Some measure of concern flashed past Natsukaze's mind as she heard that he was barely doing 1st Combat Speed or 19 knots, since she herself was nearing 4th or 30 knots. Raising her hand her ears she transmitted back in her best English: "Natsukaze, my pleasure to meet you Rodan Rir but you will have to accelerate up to pace with me at 30 knots. I doubt we have much time... I also think that you as a light cruiser should take the lead."

Approaching the base at speed, Natsukaze made a second transmission, now on her secure channel system, to the Flagship: "Natsukaze to Flag, joining sortieing forces from base from the north at speed with one light cruiser at this time. My ammunition load is estimated at 40%, will not last long in a firefight, will however do what I can as far as the shells last."
Closing the radio, she fired up her Type 42-2-31 air search radar, preparing for another anticipated airstrike.

Lodan Lir. Leaving the docks.
Please don't get me wrong, I was rated for a maximum speed of 34.4 knots, which was fine for the SDF-Navy, but it was... well, maximum speed. Using up more fuel only to get from A to B quickly - with limited ressources, that was always fun.
But on the other hand, it was not as if the circumstances did not merit such a cause of action, quite on the contrary. The fleet was in trouble, in much of it, and they would need us to get out of it quickly.
Air attacks were always iffy for ships without or only inssuficient air cover to deal with and as 8th NAS was currently approaching the fleet, maybe with a few more planes in tow, it might come to shooing off stragglers, but I would not want to stress my luck.
"Lodan Lir, Natsukaze - thank you.", I said and frowned - sure, I was a light cruiser, but I could not deal with kids, be they destroyers or sloops. It was not that I didn't like them, but more like - whoah, would you look at that!
That, my dear reader, being a woman, a battleship judging by her fuel tanks, stepping out and close to the docks. I tried to have my eyes stay on her face, but I even I must admit to giving her a good look up and down for but a moment, before they returned to her eyes. Eyes were the windows to the soul and she seemed to me like a strong warrior and strong woman. "Ahead Full sounds good, but wait with it for a moment. I might be able to secure us a bit more firepower." I did not wait for her reply as I cleared my throat. "Good afternoon, Miss Battleship, SDFS Lodan Lir. May I ask you to accompany me and Miss Natsukaze over there..." I gestured into the destroyer's direction with a small smile. "...on a small sortie? Securing the fleet as it advances backwards in a tactically well-thought-out manoeuvre?"
My voice might have sounded a smidgen suave, but I was not flirting with her... or at least not trying to.

[The Cross and Davids Star]

Prophet

Prophet's heart fell hard. Seeing Searc take a bomb straight to the face almost killed him, as if he wanted to put the blame on himself for her death. Slowly but surely, that guilt and sorrow turned to rage, taking his eyes to the sky, unable to see through the fog. He ordered his guns to start taking ammunition for his planes and use them if possible, and had his naval guns load especially high explosive rounds with proximity fuzes. He turned on his radio and transmitted to Coriolanus.

"Prophet to Flag, I'm letting the fog down, its effectiveness has worn off." He said, stopping the flow of liquid nitrogen and restarting the water flow, allowing the fog to slowly disperse. Being able to see the planes now, Prophet was more than ready for payback.

"Fire all guns, don't let a single one escape!" He shouted, a torrent of bullets following soon afterward, the shells in the naval guns fired at groups of planes, which once close enough, would release large explosions which caused vacuums just as big to hopefully cause the planes to crash into each other.

Locust

Ok, so that didn't exactly go as planned. The ships above me managed to dodge most of the torpedoes, with my subs coming back for more. I, however, had to get the hell out of dodge, since my cover was blown, and they were going flank speed, effectively outrunning my subs. I failed to do what I planned, so now it was time to leave. And so I did, taking my subs back into thier proper places and going full speed ahead toward my fleeing allies while the chaos remained.