The Lakabian fleet had entered BNP's Britain's waters several hours before. Despite the threat of breaking up the fleet, a meeting of each of the naval captains from lakabi and Crookfur had agreed that there was no other way; the situation had escalated severely, with Crookfur and several other nations commencing hostilities against BNP's Britain and their government threatening ever more violent repraisals towards foreign both military and civilian targets. They needed to get what they had came for and be gone as soon as possible; it was not their war, after all, and all they wanted was their people.
Aboard the Agrippa, the captain watched as small ships ferried those waiting masses from the mainland. They had found a particular section of the British coastline, far from all the areas of conflict so far. Now, it was a race against time; he had only three frigates left in his contingent, the others having headed even as far north as Scotland to obtain their people. One Crookfur ship had joined them, but still he felt exposed.
He could see one of the cruise liners, her decks filled with refugees, yet there were many more awaiting rescue. For a moment he wished he could be amongst them, more than anything to simply ask them: "Why?" Why would they have come here, and tried to settle in such a land? Was their home nation so unbearable, that they would live amongst bigots and monsters?
"Captain! A moment, please." An officer had approached him form one side, a piece of paper in his hands. Turning from the bridge's window, the captain regarded him. The officer was slightly pale, and the captain frowned slightly as he took the paper from his hand. Quickly scanning the contents, he looked to the officer.
"Inform our allies of this development, though I am sure that they already know. Tell what regiments of Naval Guard that we have on land to prepare to defend themselves, and pass a message throughout the fleet that they will need to step up in the evacuation procedures."
"Aye, sir," The officer replied, a quick salute before he was gone. The captain turned back to the window, deep in thought. Radar had indicated that elements of the enemy's armour had been spotted nearby, and seemed to be on an intercept course with their landing zone. had not brought much in the way of anti-armour, and he doubted his ship's ability to accurately target any land vehicles (though Crookfur's ship was another thing). Communications from their contingent in Scotland had also indicated forces nearby, though they had not moved and seemed content to watch the evacuation though he did not doubt that they could (and potentially would) strike at any time.
Damn it, this was taking too long!
