Summoning America

Chapter 117: First Strike (3)



GVS Grade Atlastar

The view from the bridge was one of disaster. Trails of smoke drifted to the sky on both sides of the battlefield while a merciless lightning storm raged around them. Torrential rains and crashing waves contributed little to dousing the fires that ravaged the damaged and sinking ships, serving only to pester the survivors struggling in the water. To these survivors and those trying to rescue them, the chaotic battlefield was like a double-edged sword. The constant devastation amidst the storm deterred any sea monsters from getting too close, but it also meant that rescue operations were all the more difficult to conduct. Shells, bombs, and wrecked planes fell from the sky, threatening to strike rescue teams, survivors, and combatants alike.

A mere hour had elapsed since the start of the battle and already the situation was bleak for both sides, although the description was more apt for the Gra Valkan side. The battle had more or less gone as expected, with Gra Valkan naval forces completely demolishing the EDI fleet. The EDI suffered the loss of half their standard vessels, with the exception of outliers such as the Orichalcum- and Mithril-class battleships, the La Kasami-class battleships, and the La Burke-class destroyers.

Under reasonable battlefield conditions, Caesar could’ve overwhelmed even these powerful foes with ease. However, he and his comrades were dealt a painful reminder that war is a dangerous phenomenon that one shouldn’t expect to always go according to plan. Three strange airships did what the main EDI fleet couldn’t: push back the Gra Valkan Navy. 

Blue bolts and lasers pounded the Gra Valkan fleet, sinking ship after ship. With how quickly the airborne battleships were sinking the Gra Valkan vessels, it didn’t take long before the Grade Atlastar itself was targeted. In addition to long-range bombardment from the Cosmo and her allies, searing blasts of plasma and intense rays of light began to strike the ship.

“Aft auxiliary turrets are destroyed!” Someone called out while a laser grazed the back of the ship, igniting flames across the rear portion of the deck and incinerating several crew members.

Caesar wracked his mind for a solution to his predicament. The more his ship was pummeled, the more helpless he felt. Was this it? Did he provoke an enemy that he had no chance at defeating? Caesar pondered the outcome of the battle if this one-sided slaughter continued. They would probably be able to wipe out all EDI naval vessels, but what was the point if his entire fleet was wiped out as well? 

His thoughts were temporarily distracted by the sight of a Muan La Burke-class destroyer shooting down Gra Valkan dive bombers with relative ease, as if they had American targeting computers. Although initially overcome with dread, he soon realized the underlying value of this demonstration. If the Muans could shoot down aerial targets using computers, then what’s to say that the Grade Atlastar couldn’t do the same?

Caesar glared at the saucer, which hovered above them at a height barely out of reach of their guns. He barked a new set of orders, urgency and excitement evident in his voice. “Captain, target the closest saucer with the main guns! Use standard high-explosive shells!”

Captain Luxtal repeated the order to his gunnery officers, who immediately began preparations. 

“Target identified, adjusting azimuth and elevation. Wait… we’re unable to fire because of the angle!” An officer caught a flaw in their plan.

Caesar felt a pang in his heart; all of his prior excitement was snuffed out and he was once again left in a perilous state of helplessness. “Damn it,” he cursed. Looking toward Luxtal, he asked, “Would it be possible to hit the saucer if we backed up farther?”

Luxtal shared Caesar’s sentiment. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he gave an unsettling answer, “Yes, but we would need to get several miles farther. However, it will take time to adjust our position. At least thirty more allied ships will be sunk by the time we’re ready to fire.” He shook his head, every characteristic of his demeanor screaming that it was a bad idea. Then, to further emphasize this, he said, “We could likely hit the closest saucer, but we would have lost the battle by then.”

“So,” Caesar reflected on Luxtal’s words with a somber expression, “We must sacrifice our comrades to strike the enemy, and we wouldn’t even be guaranteed a kill?”

Luxtal simply nodded. “Yes,” he said, his voice a whisper in comparison to his bold proclamations near the start of the battle. 

Caesar looked out of the bridge, watching the ships in his fleet sway and bob against the waves as they exchanged weapons fire with the enemy. Then, another brilliant idea hit him. “The sea pushing against our ships… What if we use the water to grant us a better angle?”

“You mean, flood a portion of the ship to tilt it?” Luxtal asked, caught off guard by the peculiar suggestion. 

Caesar nodded. 

“Well,” Luxtal analyzed the plan, “It sounds crazy, but it may very well work. Men, begin flooding the starboard side!”

The Grade Atlastar tilted as water rushed into it, causing the guns on the deck to point even higher. Tension grew among the bridge crew as the ship rapidly approached its limit. Keeping track on the angle of the guns, it wasn’t clear whether or not the necessary degree could be achieved until finally, water stopped flooding in. 

“This is as much water as we can take in, sir!” An officer yelled out. 

“Is it enough?” Luxtal asked the gunnery officer. 

Much to everyone’s relief, the answer was a resounding “yes”. The easy part was complete; now they had to actually land a hit on a flying target that was capable of reaching speeds past 200 miles per hour. The targeting computer was more than capable of striking a lumbering naval vessel with limited avenues of movement, but to hit a fast airship that could move omnidirectionally was a different matter.

The men waited for the computer to calculate a new firing solution for their guns, biting their nails and tapping their fingers as they fidgeted. The wait for the calculations – as short as it was – seemed more arduous than it truly was, drawn out due to the barrage of gunfire coming from the saucers. Each second felt like an intense minute, but eventually they were able to lock onto the target. 

As soon as the guns were ready, Caesar gave the order, “Fire!”

Nine blasts followed suit, rocking the ship as the main guns unleashed their full power. The tremendous display was so enchanting that even the most doubtful among the crew were invigorated. The shells flew toward their mark, soaring as high as the spirits of the men on board. The saucer attempted to evade the incoming projectiles, but it was too late.

—-

Pal Chimera Unit 02

“Walman, PULL BACK! RETREAT!” Meteos screamed over the private channel.

Although famous for his extreme nationalism and pride, Walman wasn’t so dull as to ignore the urgency in his comrade’s warning. Having placed his full trust in his allies, he complied without a second thought and set the ventral and port thrusters to max. The crew jerked along with the ship’s sudden movements, losing their balance as they clung to nearby consoles or walls. 

Despite this quick reaction, Walman had a gut feeling that their error was too grave to be resolved by mere evasive maneuvers. Keeping this in mind, he issued a new order, “Shields to full, brace for–!”

The Grade Atlastar’s might struck the Pal Chimera in full force before he could finish his sentence. Seven shells impacted the shields, completely shattering it and sending shrapnel toward the ship itself, which ravaged the hull and wrecked numerous gun platforms along the impact zone. Blue particles ejected from the shattered shield in all directions as a result of being overwhelmed by the sheer kinetic and explosive force of the enemy shells.

Walman’s ship was rattled to its core, damaged extensively along the front and ventral sides, which were facing directly toward the enemy. Red alarms blared throughout the ship as crew members were tossed about by the attack. Walman gripped his seat hard, holding on to dear life as his life flashed before his eyes. He reflected on his poor choices while explosions raged along the outer circumference of his ship.

As quickly as it began, the trembling suddenly stopped, leaving Walman in the center of a smoldering ship slowly falling from the sky. He glanced at the console in front of him, hoping to get an understanding of the current situation. Unfortunately, his eyes met with a glitching holographic screen, fading in and out of existence. He analyzed his surroundings and took a good look at his men, some of whom laid on the floor, unresponsive. 

Yet, many were still alive, and he felt like he had a duty to get them out of combat safely. “Navigator,” he called out, “How are the engines?”

“Gravity dampeners one through three are offline! Same with all thrusters in these sectors!”

Walman nodded, immediately figuring out his next course of action. “Use the RCS thrusters to rotate the ship! We’ll use the surviving engines to flee the battlefield!”

The view outside the bridge began to shift in accordance with the rotation applied by the Pal Chimera’s thrusters. Seeing the ship respond to his commands was a welcome sight, but he couldn’t celebrate just yet. Fleeing wouldn’t be enough; he had to cover the ship and somehow distract the enemy from firing again. He hailed the other Pal Chimera units, “Units One and Three, this is Unit Two requesting support! We survived the attack, but have lost all shields and are now retreating!”

“We read you, Unit Two,” Meteos responded. “Units One and Three are en route to provide covering fire. ETA in two minutes.”

Walman’s demeanor took a steep dive after hearing Meteos’ words. According to the Americans, the Grade Atlastar could likely fire its guns in the region of 10 times per minute. Assuming that this rate was cut down to 2 or 3 to account for target acquisition, this meant that the Grade Atlastar could launch six more attacks. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be a concern, considering the fact that the Grade Atlastar was initially unable to hit the high-flying ship, and barely able to strike it after pulling off that curious tactic.

However, with important gravity dampening systems damaged, Walman’s Pal Chimera was descending rapidly. He wasn’t sure if the ship was fleeing the battle fast enough to compensate for their rate of descent, justifying his fears. If the enemy staggered their strikes and fired their guns in succession rather than simultaneously, then the chance of being struck would be even higher. With the current state of his vessel, he wondered if his ship could take even a couple more hits.

Determined to make it out of the battle alive, he considered his options. “What is the status of our weapons?”

“Sir, most Exquialis Cannons along the impacted sector are inoperable. However, all cannons currently facing the enemy are fully functional. We lost one Exstinguia Lance, leaving two operational. A majority of our Atrates Cannons also survived.”

Walman felt relief rising up from his chest, but there was still one concern left to be answered. “And the targeting computer?” He asked.

“Fully operational, sir!”

Walman sighed, feeling a light smile reach his cheeks. “Set the Atrates Cannons to intercept enemy shells! Use our remaining Exquialis and Exstinguia systems to target the enemy’s main turrets!”

Magical power surged through the ship as it began a true fight for the death.

—--

HMS Cosmo

Tachyon watched as Walman’s Pal Chimera fled the scene, landing accurate strikes against the Grade Atlastar while it braved long-range bombardments from Gra Valkan forces. Like sharks sensing blood in the water, the Gra Valkans pounced on the falling saucer. The previously immobilized enemy fleet was now on the offensive as cruisers and destroyers joined in the action, firing anti-air shells at the Pal Chimera without regard for their original oceanfaring targets. Explosions engulfed the air around it, producing shockwaves that sent shivers down his spine.

“Focus fire on the lead enemy ships! Cover the Pal Chimera’s escape!” Tachyon ordered.

The Cosmo jumped into the fray, followed by other nearby ships as they eliminated the fanatical charging Gra Valkans. Fire and brimstone fell upon the tunnel-visioned vessels that chased after the flailing saucer above. Yet, determined in their will to finish off one of the Holy Mirishial Empire’s greatest assets, they faced the combined might of the EDI head-on.

The two minutes it took for reinforcements to arrive were lengthy, with each passing second representing an unsalvageable risk to Walman’s ship. When they finally arrived, spirits were lifted. They graced the battlefield with a torrent of lasers and bolts, joining in on the slaughter orchestrated by Tachyon’s fleet. Much to their gratitude, and the Gra Valkans’ disappointment, Walman’s ship safely retreated behind friendly lines.

The enemy’s failure was evident. The Gra Valkan ships began to pull back, afraid of pushing deeper into the Megalodon’s jaw. Their desperate charge proved futile, and without the ability to fight back against the Pal Chimerae, they signaled their retreat. Seeing this, the men on the EDI ships began to celebrate.

Only Tachyon and a few other high-ranking officers knew the true nature of their victory; it was a pyrrhic victory, won only by the overwhelming technological advantages of the Holy Mirishial Empire’s superweapons. In a long, drawn-out war of attrition, they would eventually lose. Still, Tachyon found some room to breathe a sigh of relief. It may have been a pyrrhic victory, with massive losses inflicted against the EDI fleet, but he at least took pride and satisfaction in the fact that not a single finger was laid on Otaheit.

——

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