20 miles North of Grand Nicholia, West of the Claanyanii fleetAdmiral Burgiak stood in the bridge, on the HRS Rollo I, peering through a pair of binoculars. On the horizon, through his lenses, a fairly large fleet had appeared. Two destroyers cruised towards the Balashovian Fleet. All troops were at battle stations, preparing for the combat. However, the order to hold fire was issued, as the Admiral did not want to attack first. "Vice Admiral Gorbachev, the unknown fleet has sent destroyers to our position. Are all sailors at their battle stations?"
"Sir, all troops are active and ready, waiting on your order to fire." responded the Vice Admiral.
"Hold it for now, I want to find out the origins of this fleet."
Admiral Burgiak faced the communications officer in the bridge, "Officer, prepare to send a message to this fle-"
As he said that, a message came through the ship's comms system.
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UNIDENTIFIED FLEET - THIS IS CŚM NEFEN OF THE CLÁNYAN HIGH COMMAND STOP REQUESTING IDENTIFICATION STOP SENDING TWO DESTROYERS TO YOUR POSITION TO IDENTIFY STOP DO NOT FIRE UPON OUR FORCES STOP
"By the King's grace itself, its the Claanyanii! We have support! Officer, with haste, compose a message revealing our identity. Go fast now, before shots are fired! Vice Admiral, order all battle stations to stand down."
Vice Admiral Gorbachev quickly left the room to deescalate the situation, while the communication officer picked up the radio transmitter:
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CLAANYAD FLEET - THIS IS THE ROYAL NORTHERN FLEET STOP OF THE ROYAL KINGDOM OF BALASHOV STOP WE ARE FRIENDLY STOP WE REPEAT DO NOT ENGAGE STOP WE REPEAT DISENGAGE STOP ADMIRAL BURGIAK STOP COMMANDER OF OUR FLEET STOP WISHES TO MEET WITH YOUR COMMANDER OVER
Admiral Burgiak stood, staring at the destroyers as they approached. Their hulls churned through the waves as they steadily bore upon the Royal Northern Fleet. He saw on the deck below that the Balashovian sailors and soldiers began to disengage from their battle stations. The royal crest of Balashov flew high on the masts of all the ships. The Admiral only hoped that they would receive the message or at least see the flags before firing upon his fleet. If they did not, a major disaster could potentially destroy war moral before fighting even happened.
Donestk, BalashovThe 1st Royal Fleet had departed from the port and began its journey to Grand Nicholia. Their estimated time of arrival - two and half weeks. 400,000 Balashovian ground troops were aboard these ships, along with a number of sailors and additional servicemen. HRS Zuri the Great led the charge across the seas. She was a massive Lenin-class aircraft carrier, much like the HRS Rollo I. Her grey hull cut through the waves as the men onboard waved goodbye to the shores of Balashov, not knowing if this was their last time seeing them. The sun sank in the western sky, silhouetting the skyline of Donestk and the forest around it. Soon, the bustling of the city was gone, and only the meticulous and constant sound of the ship cutting through the dark sea was left. In the bridge of the HRS Zuri, Admiral and commander of the 1st Royal Fleet, Yuri Malkovik, sat with a glass of whiskey in his hand. A cigar hung out of his mouth, tiny bits of ember falling off onto the steel floor below. Across from him sat General Leonidas Malkovik, his brother. Both men were of large stature, eating standing around six feet, four inches. Admiral Malkovik was clean shaven, representing the cleanliness of the Navy. His brother, General Malkovik, had a well-groomed, dark beard. He too sat drinking whiskey, but did not smoke a cigar. "Brother," the admiral spoke up after moments of silence, "we plunge into the darkness towards an uncertain future. Take a cigar, for only the man upstairs knows how many more times like this we have together."
"Gahh..." the general said, "you always have to be so dark and gloomy. But, alas, you speak the truth. We must enjoy this long journey together, as you say, 'we plunge into the darkness' blah blah blah." The last line reeked of sarcasm, yet these two men loved each other more than anything else in the world.
General Malkovik cut and lit a cigar, put in into his mouth, and took a long drag. Blowing out a long trail of smoke, he raised his glass, and the two brothers clinked them together, in a toast to the heavens.