Groun Sea

Nigrati vessels floated along the calm seas, flags fluttering in the wind while sailors unwound, chatting with their comrades. For weeks, they enjoyed an eerie peace that more closely resembled the calm before a storm, rather than a ceasefire. Many remained on edge, expecting a Gra Valkan attack at any moment, but others saw this as a victory. Maybe they really did deter the Gra Valkans, or so they claimed.

Although less than truthful, such thoughts had a beneficial impact on morale, and the Nigrati sailors defended their coastlines with revitalized ambition. They were granted hope in the last battle, and felt as if they could do anything. Yet, there was nothing they could do against enemies unseen.

Monsters lurked below the waves, tubular in form and emitting the telltale metallic noise of spinning turbines. Unlike the vicious sea creatures known to inhabit the barbarian seas, this monstrosity was artificial in nature, designed solely to infiltrate and kill. Dozens of such machines barreled toward the Nigrati fleet, undetected and untargetable. Traveling at depths unimaginable to the Nigrati, they avoided the surface-level mines that had destroyed many of their comrades’ vessels.

The submarines emerged on the other side of the blockade of Napoleon-era warships, splitting off into groups to engage the Nigrati forces. The relatively stationary Nigrati vessels were easy targets for the Gra Valkan submarines. Fearing no retaliation from their disadvantaged enemies, the submarines moved closer. After lining up their shots, they fired.

Silent killers raced under the water, speeding toward the wooden underbellies of their targets like sailfish racing toward prey. With devastation matched only by leviathans of the deep, the torpedoes made contact and tore the wooden vessels asunder. Prized ironclads and mighty ships-of-the-line suffered as violently as their more lightly-armed brethren, exploding magnificently. Ammunition storages aboard the ships detonated, sending shrapnel flying toward other ships and into the sky while condemning the target itself to a watery grave.

—-

Admiral Makaan shot up from his bed upon hearing the first explosion. Looking out a viewport, he saw something that he hadn’t witnessed in weeks – something that the deepest parts of his subconscious had expected. In the distance, a burning ship missing its entire midsection slowly sunk into the depths. Small figures – his men – jumped overboard, clinging to whatever buoyant debris they could get their hands on.

He watched the ironclad die with a look of shock plastered all across his face. If the enemy fleet had arrived, why was he not informed? He exited his quarters in a hurry, finding crewmen rushing around in a panic. His eyes darted as quickly as his men, in search of the ship’s captain or a commanding officer who could give him an update. He clambered to the ship’s bridge, finding all of the important personnel there. “Captain!” he called out, “What in the heavens was that?”

A series of three more detonations cried out, as if to answer his question.

The captain answered in a panic, unable to fathom what was going on either. “We’re being attacked, sir! No visible enemies!”

Admiral Makaan’s eyes grew wide in fearful realization. He knew just how far the most powerful Gra Valkan guns could extend, and scouts would have picked up movement long ago if a single ship had entered within visual range. Invisible killers could only mean one thing: submarines. Acting quickly, he issued an order, “Helmsman, bring us to full speed toward the shore and perform evasive zigzag maneuvers at random! Comms, send this instruction to the rest of the fleet and open a fleetwide channel!”

The communications officer quickly relayed the admiral’s orders and offered him the manacomm when he was done, “Sir, you’re fleetwide.”

Makaan took the device. “All ships, fall back to the coast! We’re under attack by Gra Valkan submarines. There is nothing we can do to retaliate, so we must force the enemy into shallow waters! Rescue teams are to use small crafts and lifeboats to avoid being targeted by the submarines!”

More explosions continued to sound off, each one signifying the complete and utter destruction of a ship. Each one sent a pang to his heart. His expression soured at the thought of being unable to fight back, and he cursed inwardly at his misfortune while holding on to nearby rails. At the very least, he thought, there was relief in the fact that the frequency of explosions had dwindled. Although the speed of his vessels was incomparable to the speed of the torpedoes underwater, evasive maneuvers had managed to mitigate his losses.

Then, recalling the information packet describing submarines, Makaan realized that there was indeed a way to fight back. “Bring our bombs to the decks. Set a timed fuse for them and manually throw them overboard.”

“Sir,” the captain raised an eyebrow, “Depth charges?”

Makaan nodded.

The captain protested, pointing out a flaw in the strategy, “We don’t have a way to detect the submarines; how will we even hit them with these bombs?”

“I understand your concern. Wasting ammunition on lucky strikes is not wise, but that is not my intention. We can give the Gra Valkans a false impression of our capabilities and hopefully instill some fear in their hearts. These bombs could force them to act cautiously, and put distance between our fleet and their submarines, reducing their accuracy and granting us more opportunity to escape.”

The captain understood Makaan’s strategy. “Comms, relay the order. Helmsman, reduce frequency of turns. We want to reach the coast as soon as possible.”

Makaan stared outside as nigh-invisible streaks traced an outline on the surface. “Captain,” he said, keeping his eyes on the small wakes adjacent to the ship, “Does this vessel have a mage?”

“It does, sir. I believe all of the larger ships of the line do as well.”

“Comms, direct our mages perform scrying spells, close to the surface. Trace the torpedoes to their origins and coordinate with our bomb operators. We may have a slight chance of striking one of these submarines.”

As instructed, mages across the fleet began tracking the torpedoes. Officers gathered around these mages, calculating distance and other targeting data by hand. Using their best estimates, they set the fuses on the bombs and dropped them. Blasts erupted from beneath the waves as hundreds of bombs rolled off the sides and sterns of the Nigrati warships.

Using a scope, Makaan surveyed the aftermath of his fleet’s attacks, finding a colorful reflection along the surface. “Oil spill!” he announced, “We hit one of the submarines!”

The crew cheered at their small victory, ecstatic that they managed to destroy an invisible enemy. Reminded of their successes during the initial invasion, they fought off creeping feelings of hopelessness. Their success was cut short, however, as yet another Nigrati ship was sunk in turn.

The destruction of the single Gra Valkan sub also came at a high ammunition price. The captain took note of their dwindling supplies, bringing the issue up with the admiral. “Sir, our ammunition stores are down to eighty percent. With the enemy fleet likely not too far behind, I recommend reducing the frequency of our attacks. We still need some ammo to fight the enemy ships with.”

Makaan saw the captain’s point, and agreed to make adjustments. “Reduce the frequency of our attacks by half. Increased accuracy from scrying spells should offset this.”

Right after the communications officer informed the fleet of the admiral’s new orders, he received a new urgent message, “Sir, the Pharaoh reports sightings of enemy aircraft, hundreds of them due west!”

“Shit,” Makaan muttered. “Inform the mainland to prepare for an air raid, and recommend deployment of wyvern units for coastal defense. All ships, prepare for anti-air combat!”

Sailors across Makaan’s fleet readied their machine guns while mages began generating a wave of fog to prevent the enemy aircraft from striking them at high altitudes. Similar to the first battle, the Nigrati hoped to narrow the technological gap between themselves and the Gra Valkans through any means necessary, as unconventional as they may be. By forcing a closer engagement, the fog negated any range advantage the Gra Valkan planes had, and also served as a smokescreen against long-distance bombardments from Gra Valkan battleships.

However, unlike the first battle, the force disparity was even more egregious. The Nigrati fleet, cut down to nearly a third of what it once was, faced a Gra Valkan force four times larger than the first invasion force. The planes in the sky alone were enough to completely annihilate the Nigrati fleet, but Makaan still held out hope – hope not that he could survive the coming engagement, but hope that he and his men could wipe out as many Gra Valkans as possible. Recognizing the objective hopelessness of this battle, he decided to give a heroic, uplifting speech to his men.

“Sailors of the Nigrat Union Navy, this is Admiral Makaan. After weeks of preparation, the Gra Valkas Empire has finally launched its second assault. Behind the pursuing submarines lie hundreds of steel warships, and above them lie hundreds, if not thousands, of warplanes. Our numbers have dwindled from nearly three hundred vessels to just under a hundred, but our spirit remains as indomitable as ever! There may be no hope of defeating the enemy fleet, or surviving the final battle, but WE CAN MAKE THEM BLEED! Let the vengeance in your hearts guide you as we make these invaders suffer for their barbaric conquest! Together, we stand united against those who would seek to oppress us, and together we will remind them of the price they must pay to engage in such abhorrent barbarism! Victory in solidarity!”

Gra Valkan planes pierced the heavy cover, aligning themselves with their targets as they endured the streams of anti-aircraft fire coming from the Nigrati ships. They threw everything they had at their enemy, and so did the Nigrati. Bullets and bombs flew around the battlefield in a chaotic display of warfare. For every Nigrati warship sunk, three Gra Valkan planes fell.

As the Union’s numbers dwindled, this ratio began to favor the Gra Valkans. For every Nigrati warship sunk, the volume of anti-aircraft fire decreased until only one Gra Valkan plane was shot down for every ship sunk. No matter what they did, the Nigrati couldn’t hope to outmatch Gra Valkan technological superiority. After several strafing runs, the overwhelming airpower of the Gra Valkans had culled Makaan’s fleet to a mere fifteen ships: two ironclads, five ships-of-the-line, and eight frigates.

Makaan’s heart sank upon hearing the report from the communications officer. Backed into a corner with nowhere to run, he opted to go out with a bang. “All remaining vessels, form up around the Solidarity. Have all mages maintain our shroud. Move all magic gems into our ammunition storage and set an intercept course toward the Gra Valkan fleet. Prioritize the largest vessel.”

The captain stared at Makaan with a confused, worried look on his face, “Sir, what are you doing?”

“Going out with a bang, Captain.”

The captain gave Makaan an understanding look. With tears forming in his eyes, he knew what he had to do. “Admiral, it has been an honor serving with you,” he said. Turning to this crew, he continued, “It has been an honor serving with all of you. Helmsman, set course to impact the troop or aircraft carrier we see.”

The remains of the Nigrati fleet charged forward, surprising the Gra Valkan subs and aircraft. Guided by a scrying spell, the fleet steered toward a group of carriers in the middle of the Gra Valkan fleet. The few surviving mages gave everything they had, bordering on fatal mana exhaustion, to extend the reach of the fog. The fleets edged closer together, and finally made contact after almost half an hour of sailing.

By the time the Nigrati reached the Gra Valkans, they had lost seven ships, leaving only eight to fight the entire fleet. To Makaan, this was more than enough. Using the other ships as shields, the Solidarity plowed through the Gra Valkan formation. Ship after ship fell until only the Solidarity was left, but by then Makaan had completed his mission. He walked out onto the deck, staring at the towering carrier beside his flagship. He smiled, finding comfort in the fact that he would die a heroic death in defense of his people and turned back toward the bridge to salute his nation’s flag. “Detonate.”