August 15, 1640

Artticus (Conshal) Ocean

50 miles from Lookout Bay

Seehund-class Fleet Submarine, GVS Niflheim

Captain Donitz peered through his submarine's periscope, grinning from ear to ear as he spotted the masts of his target, sailing some 20 miles in the distance. The relative distance between his vessel and the Mirishial ships shrank, allowing him to identify the enemy force. It consisted of 8 destroyers, 3 cruisers, and two battleships — one of which looked much more advanced than the other.

He announced giddily, “That’s the Cosmo! One of the only Mirishial ships with missiles, and we have a chance to sink it!”

His cautious second-in-command, Commander Leibniz, became a voice of opposition. “Sir, with all due respect, our orders are to strike isolated vessels in the middle of nowhere, not to challenge a battle group next to a Mirishial base!”

Donitz grumbled, unable to refute Leibniz’s concerns, “Blasted orders! Fine! We will continue to shadow them, but if an opportunity presents itself, we will sink the Cosmo!”

Leibniz wanted to refrain from attacking the Mirishials altogether, but a feeling of trepidation held him back from pushing further. He didn’t want the Mirishials to start taking the war more seriously than they already were, but he also didn’t want to antagonize the captain. The Niflheim’s mission still has several months left, and he wanted that time to go as smoothly as possible.

Besides, he couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if they actually did sink the Cosmo. Would they be rewarded for sinking a prized Mirishial superweapon? Could the Mirishials even retaliate, considering that they have yet to deploy their forces to Mu? In any case, Leibniz no longer had his prized excuse; fear of Mirishial retaliation was a drop in the bucket compared to fear of American retaliation.

Seeing no reason to argue against Donitz’s wishes, he simply nodded. “Yes, let’s see if we can sink the Cosmo.”

——

Artticus Ocean

En Route to Mu

Orichalcum-Class Battleship, HMS Cosmo

Admiral Tachyon walked down to his ship’s combat information center, which was brimming with screens and advanced interfaces copied directly from the Pal Cowne CIC. Having recently transferred to the Cosmo from his previous posting aboard the Mithril-class battleship Solar, he decided to inspect his new vessel. After inspecting the weapons systems, he peered into a newly-installed station. It sat beside an American SPY-1 radar console, which looked similar to the radar system on the Pal Chimera and Pal Cowne. However, unlike the radar system, this new station was home to an entirely different form of detection — sonar.

He lifted a slim finger, and with grace customary of a high-ranking elf like himself, he traced the strange outlines on the screen. “So this is our ship, and these are our allies… Lieutenant Ofalio,” he called out to the cat-man sonar operator, “What is this clump here?”

“That is a group of wild hippocami, sir. Equine creatures.”

New signatures soon popped up, grabbing the mens’ attention. Tachyon immediately noticed, feeling a bit of concern that the contacts had appeared behind the fleet’s wake. “And… what are these?”

Lieutenant Ofalio grimaced slightly as he looked at the screen. He listened closely to his headset, his ears and tail suddenly perking up.

“What is it?” Captain Yleyza asked, immediately catching the tell-tale sign of alertness from his fellow cat-person.

“I… They’re torpedoes!” Ofalio yelled out in surprise. “24 torpedoes, headed straight for us!”

Admiral Tachyon and Captain Yleyza watched the torpedoes close the distance.

The captain reacted instantly, reaching for his manacomm. “Yleyza to Bridge, steer hard to port immediately!”

The ship lurched, causing the men in the CIC to stumble slightly as they corrected their balance.

Tachyon analyzed the speed of the torpedoes, their trajectory, and the Cosmo’s attempt to evade. It was clear to him that they would be unable to dodge the incoming salvo. Thinking quickly, he blurted out a magic spell, “Iceberg Wall!”

A new signature popped up on the sonar console, representing a splash from the wall of ice that Tachyon himself summoned. The sudden splash was then followed by a series of underwater detonations, corresponding to the impact of the torpedoes onto the hastily created barrier. The battleship itself shuddered, metal groaning as the hull withstood the shockwaves from the explosions.

Tachyon collapsed, one of his legs giving way as he fell to the floor, right hand holding onto a nearby table. He breathed heavily, exhausted from the emergency spellcasting.

“Sir!” Captain Yleyza and Tachyon’s assistants rushed to his aid.

Tachyon stood up, sweat dripping from his forehead and eyes watery from the physical and mental exertion. “It’s fine,” he held a hand out. “Just get me a mana potion and a Red Bull and bring it up to the bridge. I need to replenish my energy.”

One of Tachyon’s assistants bowed, “Yes, sir!” He then hurried off to the cafeteria and medical bay to retrieve the requested goods.

Satisfied with the promise of aid, Tachyon returned to the issue at hand. Understanding the current situation, he began to reposition his fleet, “Attention all ships of the Death Bar Fleet! Man your battlestations! We are under attack by a group of six submarines. Comms, send word back to Lookout Bay and call for reinforcements! Destroyers, direct magic power to engines and move to intercept. The Cosmo will provide combat data from our advanced systems to complement your own systems! Cruisers and battleship Lunar, form up around the Cosmo and designate ourselves Battlegroup One. Transfer all available magic power to bottom armor. Mage support units are to cast ‘Iceberg Wall’ upon detection of incoming torpedoes!”

The two commanding officers then returned to the bridge. Upon their arrival, they saw several columns of water burst into the air near a floating ice barrier, which subsequently shattered from the explosions. As soon as the barrier collapsed, a report came in, announcing the successful intercept of another salvo of torpedoes.

“Cartalpas mana reserves are down to 60 percent!” A communications officer announced to the bridge. “No damage sustained!”

After two failed attacks, the submarines adapted and deployed a new tactic. “New contacts from multiple directions!” Lieutenant Ofalio informed the bridge, “They’ve created a kill zone and are staggering their attacks! We can’t avoid their torpedoes!”

“Shit,” Tachyon muttered.

By staggering their attacks, the submarines intended to deplete his fleet’s mana reserves. If each Iceberg Wall intercepted at least four torpedoes, the fleet wouldn’t be damaged in the slightest. Despite the smaller salvos, the walls still had to be generated with sufficient thickness, or else the torpedoes would simply smash through without detonating. Thus, with each wall now only capable of intercepting one or two torpedoes, the prospects of escaping unscathed remained dull.

Tachyon just hoped that the enemy submarines would run out of ammo before his fleet ran out of mana. Aiming to maximize his supplies as much as possible, he ordered the fleet to conduct evasive maneuvers. “Battlegroup One,” he said, looking at the sonar data sent from the CIC, “Evade to starboard and concentrate barrier generation at the stern!”

The Mirishial cruisers and battleships turned to their relative right, placing the enemy submarines at their backs and reducing their target profiles. They steamed ahead, protecting their sterns while the destroyers continued to drop depth charges onto the submarines’ projected positions. Intermittent blasts continued to scar the surface of the ocean as tall splashes crashed down onto the waves below.

The torpedoes made impact with the barriers generated by the Mirishials, sapping pantries of mana potions with each torpedo that struck. The swarm of torpedoes laid waste to the frozen shields, timed in such a manner that the verbal spellcasting of the Mirishial mages couldn’t keep up. Although most of the salvo was either evaded or intercepted, a few managed to slip through, finding their marks on the small battlegroup.

Bracing for impact, the Cosmo’s bridge crew held on tightly to whatever they could grab. Violent shudders shook the ship as numerous explosions pelted the packed formation of cruisers and battleships. With a collective sigh of relief, they noticed that the explosions had stopped.

“Damage report!” Yleyza demanded.

One of his officers detailed the extent of devastation that the torpedoes had wrought upon their fleet, “Armor integrity is at 70%! Medical reports 5 minor injuries!”

Soon after, reports came in from the other ships. “The Lunar was not hit! The Cartalpas sustained minor damage, but their magic reserves are critically low. The Biltenpas suffered four direct hits and is currently flooding! The Trechton suffered seven hits and is sinking!”

Hearing these reports, anger built up within Tachyon. “Those damn mongrels,” he hissed, brow creasing and fists curling, “They dare strike at a Mirishial fleet!?”

“Sir,” a communications officer called out, “Destroyer Rye has confirmed the destruction of one enemy submarine! Destroyer Zyle reports multiple hits on two of the contacts, no confirmation of kill just yet.”

Tachyon weighed the new data he received, as well as his estimation of the enemy’s ammunition. It was hard to keep track of the detonations amidst the chaos, but he was able to determine the expenditure of around 80 torpedoes. Assuming an upper limit of 120 torpedoes among the six ships and the elimination of one enemy vessel, the remaining submarine pack likely had 30 to 40 torpedoes left. In the best case scenario, they only had to contend with three enemy submarines.

“How are the magic reserves of the fleet?” Tachyon asked.

“We still have enough to generate three more shields. The Lunar has enough for two, and the surviving cruisers have enough for one each.”

Although the submarines still presented a threat, he reasoned that he had enough magic resources left to protect the damaged vessels. It would take perfect spellcasting and taking a few hits, but it could be done. Having made up his mind, he moved his ships into position. “Battlegroup One, fall back and defend the Trechton and the Biltenpas! We’ll be less likely to dodge their next attacks, so be prepared to deploy barriers and strengthen hull armor as much as possible!”

It was a gamble, but he also wanted his immobilized fleet to act as bait. If the bloodthirsty subs beelined for the kill, they would follow a straight, predictable path and expose themselves to danger. The Cosmo’s sonar system would also be able to pinpoint the subs, but without guided torpedoes, they themselves couldn’t do much about it.

Tachyon just hoped that the destroyers were enough.

The Lunar and the Cosmo moved ahead of the two damaged ships while the Cartalpas sat back to conduct rescue operations. As expected, sonar data revealed that the subs were heading straight for the immobilized ships, like wolves pouncing on bloodied prey. The Mirishial destroyer squadron read the enemy like a book, and successfully intercepted two of the four contacts that had popped up on sonar. The remaining two submarines however, managed to slip past the Mirishial destroyers and unleashed their remaining torpedoes on Battlegroup One before retreating.

“Ten torpedoes closing in!” Lieutenant Ofalio announced.

“Begin defensive spellcasting!” Tachyon ordered.

Mages positioned on the decks of both the Cosmo and the Luna began summoning ice wall after ice wall. The equally spaced layers of walls were far enough from each other that the torpedoes couldn’t destroy multiple, but they were still insufficient in stopping the rest of the swarm from wreaking havoc. The five walls intercepted five torpedoes, crumbling into the seas once they accomplished their duties.

The five remaining torpedoes swam on. Three struck the Cosmo and two struck the Luna, rattling the ships and slightly damaging the reinforced armor plating on their undersides. Muffled explosions and the shuddering of metal sounded through the corridors of both vessels, forcefully introducing the Mirishials to sounds they had never heard before.

Even Admiral Tachyon himself felt anxious thinking about the damage to the ship. With an imperceptibly shaky breath, he asked for a damage report.

“Armor integrity is at 36 percent! No hull breaches reported on the Cosmo. The Luna is also in good condition, although they have lost all magic power. It will take time for their magic gem reserves to recharge their ship.”

Tachyon almost sighed in relief, but caught himself. “That is fine. We shall establish a defensive perimeter and await the arrival of reinforcements.” Tachyon looked out the bridge’s window, brows wilting at the sight of the remains of the Trechton. “I’ll return to my quarters. Inform me when we have a complete casualty report.”