10 minutes have passed since the dome appeared
"The fuck did you just say! We lost contact with Miss Enterprise!" Essex-12's voice crackled with disbelief and anger over the comms.
The entire Azur Lane Fleet was teetering on the brink of chaos. However, a significant portion remained relatively stable, firmly under the command of the Modern Kansens, whose training and integrated systems allowed them to maintain operational effectiveness even in the face of unexpected adversity.
It was the fleet elements under the command of the more traditional Commanders who were descending into panic. They were largely inexperienced in dealing with a situation of this magnitude, where the Flagship leading a large-scale operation had suddenly gone M.I.A.
Cmdr. Aldrin, his face a mask of worry, paced frantically on the bridge of his Flagship, HMS Howe. "Oh, bloody hell! Come on! Is there any backup plan for this mess?!" His usually composed British accent was now thick with agitation.
He spoke into the comms, his voice bordering on frantic, which only served to amplify the growing panic among the Shipgirls under the command of the other, equally bewildered Commanders.
"We can't just make hasty decisions in this kind of large-scale operation," Cmdr. Elena stammered, her own voice betraying her rising panic.
Cmdr. Tim's voice was laced with uncertainty. "Who will assume command of this fleet? We may hold the rank of Commander, but this gigantic task is far beyond our capabilities."
"Her Majesty the Queen. Can she assume command of the entire Task Force?" Cmdr. Elena suggested, grasping at any semblance of established leadership.
Cmdr. Aldrin's reply was grim. "No. Her Majesty is also out of action... we can't contact her, along with Warspite."
"Shit," Cmdr. Elena cursed under her breath. "What happened there? Does anyone know what just happened to them?"
Shangri-La's voice cut through the rising tide of panic over the comms. "A large energy-like dome suddenly appeared, right after a humanoid Siren materialized and encompassed the middle of the Strike Group, trapping everyone inside. We're currently doing our best to breach this energy dome."
"Umm... Commander? Can you assume command?" New Jersey asked hesitantly.
"I can command a Fleet, but not an entire Task Force.... Sorry... I just can't," Cmdr. Elena said, shaking her head in dismay.
Shangri-La's report was bleak. "We can't effectively coordinate all the aircraft in the air. The AWACS Planes have stopped responding; we've lost all contact with the Flagship."
"Yes, Shangri-La is right. We also can't provide accurate Naval Bombardment without any AWACS assistance," Cmdr. Elena added, echoing the same critical problem plaguing the Battleship Fleet.
"We need to resume the operation before the Siren takes the initiative. We need a new Flagship to assume command," Cmdr. Tim insisted, as a disorganized debate erupted over who was qualified to take on such a monumental responsibility.
Essex-12, her patience finally snapping at the Commanders' dithering, roared into the comms. "I don't give a crap about your bitching!"
The Commanders fell silent, stunned by her forceful reprimand. "Listen up! We're going with the plan."
She then contacted the Commander of the Invasion Force. "Commander, I want you to land those troops from the LSTs on the shores. As the first wave clears the beachhead, now."
"Yes Ma'am, but..." The Commanders of the Landing Ship Tanks clearly harbored doubts about their ability to proceed without adequate air cover.
Essex-12 sighed heavily. "I will have the Light Carriers provide Air Cover for the Troop Transports."
Shangri-La, listening intently over the comms, acknowledged the directive. "Okay, the first issue is addressed. Now, who is going to assume overall command?" She asked, her voice regaining a semblance of professionalism.
"Both Miss Enterprise and Miss Bunker Hill are out of action, for now. I will assume command of the Task Force," Essex-12 declared boldly.
While an Amphibious Assault Ship was far from the ideal Flagship when the Strike Group's Carriers were incapacitated, the LHA's Combat Information Center was spacious and sufficiently equipped to handle overall command functions.
Essex-9 snatched the comms from Shangri-La's hand, her voice laced with disbelief and a hint of hysteria. "Have you lost your mind?! You almost got us lost in Land Navigation in the mountains of Hawaii! I'm not risking my life under your command!"
The incident she referred to was a notorious training exercise where a group of Shipgirls had become hopelessly lost in the Hawaiian mountains due to Essex-12's abysmal sense of direction.
Lt. Potato always lost in Lav Nav.
"Listen here! I outrank you! ... You either follow my command, or you go home!" Essex-12's voice brooked no argument.
Silence descended across the comms as everyone absorbed her forceful statement. Many of them had experience commanding smaller fleets, but none felt truly capable of coordinating a force of this size, especially one reliant on a complex, pre-established battle plan.
Breaking the tense silence, Lucas's voice boomed over the comms, his channel filled with the cacophony of gunfire and explosions, punctuated by the terrifying whizz of incoming shells and bullets.
"We can't turn back now! Essex will assume overall command, with Miss Enterprise's planes providing air support and air cover for the entire Fleet. Maya and I will handle command against surface threats. Cmdr. Elena will take charge of Naval Bombardment and Naval Artillery Support; Cmdr. Aldrin will provide covering fire with the Naval Bombardment Fleet."
He paused, listening for any dissenting voices. "Good... get your asses moving!" He roared, before returning his attention to the intense engagement with the Siren ships directly in front of him.
"Alright, you heard him, Ladies... I'm in charge," Essex-12 stated, her voice now firm and authoritative.
The Commander of the Transport Ship spoke, his voice strained. "We will reach the beach landing within 30 minutes. We need aerial cover."
"I'm sending Miss Enterprise's Hornets to your location," Essex-12 radioed back to the Troop Transport Commander.
'Shit. How am I going to rearm those planes? Those Hornets need a longer flight deck and strong arresting cables to catch their tailhooks.... Damn, if only Midway were here. She could let these Hornets land on deck with the help of her break-flaps.' she cursed inwardly, the thought of the valuable aircraft being ditched in the ocean due to fuel exhaustion a knot of anxiety in her stomach.
Pushing aside her concerns about the Hornets, she turned her attention to the Light Carriers under her volatile command.
"Alright, Ladies. Listen up! I'm going to be in charge of Task Force Air Power, so I'm leaving this position to you, Wasp."
"Yes, Ma'am, you can count on me," Wasp responded promptly, her voice filled with a newfound sense of responsibility.
"Good... I'm heading there now," Essex-12 said, as she directed her ship towards the formation of Azur Lane Fleet Carriers.
"So.... What now?" Long Island asked, her voice still tinged with nervousness.
"We continue with the plan of providing air support for the ground troops," Wasp stated firmly.
"What about aerial combat?"
"We leave that to the Fleet Carriers, for now. Let us focus on providing cover for the landing zone."
"I have a bad feeling that we might get involved in combat on land," Bataan said, her expression worried.
"Well... she did say we follow the ground troops, so maybe we might end up taking fire beside them."
The horrific reality dawned on Long Island. "Oh, please don't tell me... we're going inland?"
Long Island had a well-documented aversion to dodging bullets. During boot camp, she had resembled a walking pride flag after being repeatedly hit during paintball exercises. Even the Destroyers, with their notoriously inaccurate gunnery, had managed to score multiple hits. Long Island, being a converted cargo ship, possessed neither exceptional maneuverability nor speed.
CVE, in certain less charitable circles, stood for Combustible, Vulnerable, Expandable, or Baby Flattops.
"Well...." Wasp hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Technically... yeah. We might end up on land at this point."
Long Island burst into tears, the prospect of going inland and being repeatedly shot proving too much to bear. Apparently, even ghostly apparitions had their limits when it came to laser-based weaponry.
"Waaaahhhhh.... I don't wanna go in-land!" Long Island was shaping up to be a prime bullet magnet for the other Light Carriers.
...
Lucas and Bro's
Lucas and the Cleveland Sisters were engaged in a quintessential display of Marines being Marines in the thick of a raging firefight. Bullets and shells whizzed past their heads, accompanied by a constant barrage of colorful profanity and enthusiastic "Oorahs!" with every gunshot and exploding Siren ship.
One could easily picture them as a small, determined contingent of Marines, led by their equally gung-ho NCOs, blasting their way through the chaos or simply charging headfirst into the fray, guns blazing.
One could almost hear the stirring strains of the "Marines' Hymn" playing in the background, set against a backdrop of roaring cannons, whistling bullets, and Hollywood-esque explosions for added dramatic effect.
The "Madafakas" were sailing in a remarkably straight line, obliterating any Siren ships foolish enough to obstruct their path of mayhem. It was akin to a heavily armed Marine convoy, every weapon system firing indiscriminately in all directions. Lucas and the "Bros" were essentially conducting a high-speed drive-by, with guns and cannons blazing a destructive trail.
Lucas bellowed the "Marines' Hymn" at the top of his lungs, illuminating the battlefield with bursts of machine-gun fire. "From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli! We fight our country's battles in the air, on land, and sea!"
The "Bros" enthusiastically joined in the battlefield symphony. "First to fight for right and freedom, and to keep our honor clean! We are proud to claim the title... of United States Marine!"
Columbia punctuated the impromptu concert by firing an AT-4 anti-tank rocket at a hapless Siren ship attempting to block their advance. The projectile slammed into the ship's magazine, triggering a catastrophic cook-off. The Siren ship's bow split apart and it sank rapidly beneath the waves.
"Enemy at the left!" Lucas yelled over the comms.
"Got it, boss-man," Denver replied, hosing down the deck of an approaching Siren ship with sustained machine-gun fire. The Siren minions on deck were instantly riddled with bullet holes, followed by the more substantial impact of cannon fire from her Mark 16 naval guns.
The targeted Siren ship, along with its now-deceased crew, swiftly descended to Davy Jones' Locker. "Good Sirens are, dead Siren," she quipped after the brief but decisive engagement.
Lucas, meanwhile, targeted a larger Siren Battleship with a Tomahawk missile, leaving the smaller, unarmored Siren ships like Destroyers and Light Cruisers to be dealt with by the Cleveland Sisters.
"Move, bitch, get out the way!" he roared at a lone Executer-Class stubbornly blocking their path. But this particular Siren was determined to halt their advance.
Marines do what Marines do. Drive-by by execution, as all of his available caliber guns, including his formidable Mark 45 naval gun, lit up in a furious barrage.
Marines don't take detours; they make whatever is blocking their way... go away. Or they simply erase it from existence with the combined power of crayons and explosives (metaphorically speaking, mostly).
The stubborn Executor-Class Siren ship stood its ground like a static target, or perhaps more accurately, a bullet magnet. Unsurprisingly, it was deleted from the immediate vicinity faster than deleting one's browsing history after... certain online activities.
The other Executor-Class Sirens watched in stunned disbelief as six Shipgirls and one Marine wreaked more havoc and destruction in their wake than they could have possibly predicted.
What did they expect? Surrounding a Marine with numerous targets, including themselves, was hardly a sound tactical decision. Giving a Marine the opportunity to shoot in any general direction was arguably the worst mistake they could have made.
As the old saying went: if the surroundings speak a foreign language, you might as well shoot at everything in the surroundings.
"What should we do now?" Explorer MK-II asked, her voice tinged with alarm.
Strategist MK-III responded quickly. "Call Orochi, now."
"As you wish," Explorer MK-II replied, hurrying away to carry out the urgent order.
...
JS Maya and the Doggos
JS Maya, accompanied by the Takao Sisters (the Doggos), expertly sliced through the main gun emplacements of the attacking Siren ships. Their movements were a blur of agility, incorporating backflips, skirt flips, and various other acrobatic maneuvers that, while effective, also occasionally provided unintentional fan service.
"Damn... she can do some impressive backflips in that kimono. No wonder Lucas likes her," Atago commented with a sly grin, subtly hinting at a certain someone's romantic inclinations.
"I thought we were done with that," Takao sighed, clearly irritated by Atago's persistent teasing.
"Ara~ Did something happen between Takao and Lucas?" Choukai chimed in innocently, causing Takao to let out a small shriek of embarrassment.
"Well, actually—" Atago began, a mischievous glint in her eye.
Takao swiftly clapped a hand over Atago's mouth, preventing any potentially damaging revelations in front of their two Sisters. "Atago is just... you know... saying nonsense, like usual."
She then adopted a serious expression, lowering her voice to an almost menacing whisper. "Don't ever say that. I don't want my secrets to be known by everyone."
Takao, it seemed, was particularly sensitive about the fact that she had been romantically rejected by Lucas, and the prospect of that information becoming public knowledge filled her with dread.
As this tense and slightly absurd exchange unfolded between Takao and Atago, Cruiser Maya's imagination took a wild, unwanted flight, landing squarely in the territory of NTR fantasy.
'Is Takao nee-san trying to take Lucas away from her?' She shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the disturbing image. No! Takao nee-san would never do such a thing!
She nodded firmly, her internal logic somehow twisting the situation into a conviction that Takao was indeed plotting to... well, she'd completely misunderstood the nuances of the earlier teasing.
While the Takao Cruisers continued their chaotic but effective defense, a sudden Plasma Cannon attack drew their attention, sending plumes of seawater raining down upon them.
After the unexpected saltwater shower, the Takao Sisters found themselves thoroughly soaked. They then saw JS Maya facing off against a white-haired woman who bore a striking resemblance to an Arbiter.
"My~My~ I didn't expect you to deflect my attack with only your sword. I'm impressed," Arbiter: Lover VI purred, appraising JS Maya with a hint of amusement at her skill.
JS Maya remained on high alert, having narrowly avoided being caught off guard by the sudden attack from behind. 'Shit! That caught me off guard. She just shot at my back. The way she carries herself... she definitely has the aura of an Arbiter, a powerful ego radiating from her.'
"Who are you?" JS Maya asked, her voice low and serious.
Arbiter: Lover VI let out a melodious laugh as she introduced herself. "The name is Arbiter: Lover VI –"
Before Arbiter: Lover VI could finish her dramatic introduction, JS Maya unleashed a Naval Strike Missile directly at her face.
"My~My~ impatient, aren't we?" Lover VI remarked, a hint of playful annoyance in her tone as a shimmering energy shield flickered into existence, deflecting the incoming missile.
A flurry of 8-inch shells rained down on Arbiter: Lover VI as soon as her Force Field activated. JS Maya subtly motioned with her hand, signaling the Takao Sisters to stand down.
"No! ... Leave her to me. She's mine," JS Maya declared, her gaze locked on the Arbiter.
"That's an Arbiter! You can't just face it alone!" Takao called out, her voice filled with concern.
"No. Focus your attention on the Siren ships. She's far beyond your caliber. Even if you combined your firepower, it wouldn't matter to her."
Atago gently placed her right hand on Takao's left shoulder, her expression surprisingly serious. "It's better to leave an Arbiter in her hands."
"But..." Takao began, her worry evident.
"No buts. We're outmatched when it comes to their capabilities. Have faith. Have faith that she wins."
Takao reluctantly complied. Logically, she knew that their intervention would likely only hinder JS Maya's fighting ability. They lacked the sophisticated defenses that the Cruiser possessed. It was best to trust in her strength.
"Are you done?" Arbiter: Lover VI asked, breaking the tense standoff.
"Yes, we're done," JS Maya replied, relieved that she didn't have to worry about her subordinates interfering.
"Good."
As soon as Arbiter: Lover VI uttered that single word, the battle between the two erupted. They both unleashed a barrage of shots and missiles, their movements a blur of attack and evasion.
JS Maya activated her bolt-on Shield Generator, a shimmering Force Field expanding outwards, effectively blocking all incoming shots from Arbiter: Lover VI's Plasma Cannons.
The two were evenly matched in terms of firepower and skill, but subtle differences existed. JS Maya knew she couldn't allow the Arbiter to get too close, as she would be vulnerable to the Plasma Cannons at point-blank range, despite her Shield Generator's protection. Maneuvering with the shield still presented certain difficulties.
Arbiter: Lover VI, in turn, was cautious about closing the distance. Close-quarters combat was not her forte; she preferred to engage her enemies from a longer range. She excelled at fighting beyond the reach of most opponents, but her current adversary could accurately hit targets at seemingly impossible distances.
Both JS Maya and Arbiter: Lover VI were locked in a tense staring contest, each waiting for the other to make the first decisive move, to blink first, or to pull the trigger and launch an attack.
...
Below, Azur Lane Main Fleet
Arizona circled slowly beneath the massive energy dome, meticulously searching for any weakness or exploitable flaw in its structure.
"Damn Sirens, pulling a 'Battleship movie' reference out of nowhere," he muttered under his breath, a wry note in his tone.
He continued his underwater reconnaissance, knowing that any potential solution would require careful consideration. He had briefly considered brute force, attempting to breach the dome with explosives, but quickly dismissed the idea. Draining his limited ammunition before even confronting the Sirens directly was a strategically unsound option.
However, the alternative – simply waiting for an opportunity to present itself – carried its own inherent risks. He might be forced to resort to the nuclear option, a scenario he desperately wanted to avoid.
Using nuclear weapons within such close proximity to the fleet carried the unacceptable risk of radiation fallout. Enterprise-80 and Bunker Hill-76 were both equipped with sophisticated washout systems to mitigate the effects of nuclear or chemical warfare, but the majority of the Azur Lane Shipgirls lacked such vital protection.
Therefore, destroying the dome with a nuclear warhead was out of the question. Furthermore, the launch codes for those weapons were securely held by Enterprise-80, currently trapped inside the energy barrier.
Arizona's deep contemplation of the energy dome's destruction was abruptly interrupted as his sonar picked up a new threat rising from the depths, moving with the speed and stealth of an underwater predator.
"Another one?" he muttered, his focus immediately shifting to the approaching danger.
Torpedo tubes were armed, counter-measures were deployed, and emergency maneuvers were executed, all in preparation for the rapidly approaching threat from the abyss.
"Fire."
He issued the curt order, and four Mark 48 Torpedoes were ejected from their tubes, speeding towards the rising contact. A series of underwater explosions rocked the area as the torpedoes found their mark.
Arizona anxiously checked his sonar, hoping to see confirmation of the target's demise. To his dismay, the contact remained active. His four Mark 48s had proven utterly ineffective against this creature.
"I'm going to need some bigger explosions than this," he muttered to himself, frustration evident in his tone.
A few tense moments passed before the threat from the deep finally revealed itself. The creature was a young girl, her rigging resembling the delicate, flowing form of a jellyfish.
"A little girl?" he muttered, his surprise evident.
"The name is Temperance XIV of the Arbiter Class," she stated coldly, her voice devoid of emotion. Emerging from the darkness, she displayed no hint of warmth or expression, her gaze locked with Arizona's in a silent standoff.
Arizona's trigger finger slowly moved towards the firing button of his Submarine Rigging, his movements subtle and deliberate, careful not to break the tense stalemate.
...
Surface
The Essex-class Carriers and their SBD Dauntless dive bombers relentlessly attacked the energy dome, hoping to find a weak point or induce a structural failure.
However, their bombs proved utterly ineffective, failing to even scratch the surface of the barrier. The energy dome remained impervious, unmoved and untouched by any conventional means of explosive force.
They even attempted coordinated strikes, multiple aircraft hitting the same point simultaneously, but the result remained the same: a complete and frustrating failure. Their efforts were a wasteful expenditure of valuable ordnance that could be better utilized in supporting the beleaguered ground troops.
The Royal Navy Carriers and their Cruiser escorts joined the assault, focusing their firepower on a single section of the dome, but their efforts met with the same futility as those of the Essex-class.
"Your Majesty," Illustrious said, her voice filled with a deep sense of unease regarding the Queen's predicament within the dome.
The Cruisers, often referred to as "Maids," shared Illustrious's concern for the Queen and their Head Maid Belfast, both trapped inside the impenetrable barrier.
Shangri-La sighed in frustration, forced to confront the harsh reality that their attempts to rescue those trapped within the dome were proving utterly useless.
"Damn it! I wish we had more time to save them," she cursed, her voice laced with bitterness at their fruitless efforts.
"There's nothing we can do about it; this kind of strength is far beyond our capabilities," Bunker Hill-17 (Carrier) said, her tone heavy with a sad undertone.
Essex-12 sailed towards the assembled fleet, her expression grim as she assessed the dire situation. The entire Task Force was teetering on the edge of chaos.
Destroyers darted about in a state of near-panic. The Cruisers continued their futile bombardment of the energy dome, occasionally launching torpedoes in a desperate attempt to breach the barrier, all to no avail.
"Situation Report!" Essex-12 barked, her raised voice cutting through the surrounding chaos and demanding attention.
Shangri-La read the grim report, her voice flat. "The Flagship and the rest of the capable Shipgirls are all trapped inside the dome. The rest of the Task Force is suffering a crushing blow to their morale; we've lost all contact with the Flagship and the Queen.... Many of the Shipgirls sustained significant hull damage after colliding with the dome."
".... Okay.... What about the energy dome itself?"
Shangri-La adjusted her glasses, her expression grim as she delivered the most frustrating part of the report. "We conducted a coordinated attack to break it, but to no avail. We also tried focusing our fire on a single point, but that yielded the same result as the first attempt... nothing."
"Did your recon planes look above the dome?"
"Yes, my recon planes also spotted a humanoid figure hovering above it. We believe it's an Arbiter, based on the immense energy output required to create this kind of barrier in the first place."
Essex-12 looked up, squinting at the top of the dome. "Up, huh?" she muttered thoughtfully.
"Did you attack it?"
Essex-9 replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "We tried, but we all fell short. Our planes couldn't reach the Siren; it was hovering beyond their maximum altitude. We tried shooting it with bullets multiple times, but its defenses were active."
"I see...."
Essex-12 then launched two F-35B Lightning II fighter jets, ordering them to engage and eliminate the Siren. The two F-35Bs roared skyward, their afterburners blazing, reaching an altitude that was beyond the capabilities of any propeller-driven aircraft. They launched two AIM-260 JATM long-range air-to-air missiles at the stationary Siren.
The Siren didn't even flinch, effortlessly tanking the missile strikes without moving, her attention seemingly focused entirely on maintaining the integrity of the energy dome.
"Missiles don't work. This Siren is a tough one, considering she's the one generating this energy dome," Essex-12 commented dryly.
Shangri-La, noticing the unusual calmness in Essex-12's voice given the dire circumstances, asked with a hint of concern. "You're quite calm, considering the situation."
"Nah, I'm more afraid of Miss Enterprise's methods of breaking this dome by any means necessary."
"What do you mean by that?" Shangri-La asked, her voice now laced with apprehension. Essex-9 and her sisters shared her unease at the thought of the powerful weapon that Enterprise-80 might unleash.
"Alright... is everyone connected to the AWACS network?" Essex-12 asked. Everyone confirmed their connection.
"Good.... Let's regain air supremacy against the Sirens."
A renewed sense of determination spread through the fleet at Essex-12's command. They launched strike and attack aircraft en masse, determined to wrest control of the skies, seas, and land from the Siren forces.
"By the way... where are Belfast and William?"
Illustrious answered her question. "Oh, Miss Belfast is asleep."
"Asleep?" Essex-12 was confused as to why the normally vigilant Frigate Belfast would be asleep amidst such chaos.
"Sir William put Miss Belfast to sleep to prevent her from losing herself to insanity. She was shouting and screaming, and she almost launched all of her missiles at the energy dome. Fearing that she would deplete all of her ammunition before a major engagement even began, Sir William took action and sedated her to calm her down."
".... Okay..." she then turns around as if looking around for someone. "where's William?" she asked.
Illustrious slightly tilting her head. "Oh, Sir William is right over there." She pointed to where William is at, who was standing at a specific point on the dome, his hand pressed against the shimmering surface.
"What do you think he's doing?" Essex-12 asked, curious and slightly confused by William's odd behavior.
William was a vital, if often unseen, presence behind their victories against the Sirens. He served as both a supply ship and a mobile laboratory, constantly developing countermeasures against Siren weaponry.
Seeing him standing there, silent and sorrowful, his hand reaching out towards Vestal, was an unsettling sight. In difficult situations, he was usually the one offering solutions and hope.
"He's been like that ever since Vestal and the others were trapped inside the dome. He's been touching the dome for a minute now, like he's trying to reach out to her inside," Illustrious explained, her voice soft.
".... I see... I'm going to talk to him," Essex-12 said, as she directed her ship towards William.
"Did you reach her?" she asked him, her tone mirroring his somber mood.
William, his gaze fixed on the shimmering wall that separated him from Vestal, replied in the flat voice of a depressed man. "Yes.... I reached her," he said, his expression etched with a deep frown.
Essex-12 looked at the energy barrier, and she could make out a blurry image of a small hand pressed against the surface from the other side, mirroring William's own.
"Is there any other form of communication we could use?"
"I've tried every method of communication; none of the signal waves can penetrate this Energy Dome. This is the only way I can communicate with her," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears.
"I'm sorry, pal.... I'm sorry. I didn't realize the pain you were in right now," she said, offering a comforting hand.
'Shit. Our only genius is down... we are totally fucked here.' Essex-12 thought grimly, the weight of her responsibilities as temporary commander of the fleet pressing heavily upon her.
As the two stood in shared grief, they both noticed a blinking light emanating from the other side of the energy barrier. The flickering light was not from a flashlight; its intensity suggested it was a searchlight.
The flickering light was blinking in a pattern, conveying a message.
"Get your searchlight," William said quickly, recognizing the pattern.
"Got it," Essex-12 replied, retrieving her own searchlight and responding in kind.
"Copy... we... got... the... message."
The flickering searchlight on the other side paused briefly before continuing with a new message.
"Send... this... to... everyone..."
"What is she trying to tell us?" Essex-12 asked, a growing sense of unease in her voice.
"I-I don't know.... But judging from the look of it..."
"What?"
"My gut is telling me something bad... for these Sirens," William said, a chilling premonition in his voice.
"**********"
"Is that a nuclear launch code?" Essex-12 exclaimed in shock.
"Weapons... free... open... fire..."
Enterprise-80 was authorizing the use of nuclear weapons, a last resort if the situation against the Sirens proved unwinnable. It seemed that this was the situation.
VLS-equipped ships carried between two and five nuclear-armed Tomahawk cruise missiles as a contingency for extreme emergencies. The existence of these weapons was a closely guarded secret, unknown even to Admiral Nimitz.