literature

SERAPH-31: Floats Like a Bird, Stings Like a Bitch

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  A Korean dreadnought was dead ahead, presenting its broadside to the Sanctuary as two smaller Chinese corvettes moved up on her flanks; the commander of the Coalition of the Rising Sun's fleet had hailed the British ultra-carrier soon after it entered "their" waters.  The wizened Japanese admiral had given SERAPH an ultimatum: turn back or be blown out of the water.
  Anderson presented a counter-ultimatum: let the Sanctuary pass, or lose three ships.  The admiral had wished her a pleasant afterlife, and ordered his ships into attack positions.
  Anderson watched calmly as the two ships on the Sanctuary's flanks peeled away while the dreadnought ahead began charging her weapons.
  Anderson stared down at the ship, glaring straight at the bridge of the dreadnought; her eyes glazed over slightly.  Tropic, who was standing beside Anderson, lifted a telescopic sight from a sniper rifle to her eye; she watched as the people in the bridge went about their business, watched over by a grim-faced captain who sneered at them--
  Suddenly, one of the guards aboard the bridge spasmed violently before standing as stiff as a board; Tropic turned her gaze back on Anderson, watching as her hands bunched into fists, her expression contorting into a frown.
  The guard, moving slowly like a robot, began walking to the centre of the bridge; Tropic could see the emotion on the guard's face, it was terror.  The guard was aware of his actions to some extent but he could only widen his eyes in horror as, once he reached the centre of the bridge, he snatched a grenade from a pouch at his waist and, after a brief struggle, pulled the pin and let go of the spoon--
  Anderson shrieked in pain, collapsing in the same instant as the flash of the distant grenade explosion; Tropic caught her before she hit the floor, holding her as Anderson gasped for breath and looked around with wild eyes.
  "Miss Anderson?  Alice?  Are you okay?" Tropic asked.  After a minute or so, Anderson finally calmed down and seemed to come back to herself.
  "Don't ... expect me ... to ... do that again ... anytime soon!" Anderson gasped, shaking and shivering; Tropic nodded and helped her stand, but had to offer her shoulder for Anderson to lean on to keep her steady.
  "Prepare to fire!" Anderson ordered, her voice still shaky.
  "Which guns, ma'am?" one of the radio operators asked.  Anderson looked at him.
  "All of them."
  The radio operator relayed her orders; half a minute later, the fire-control centre reported back.  Basic response: the guns were locked, loaded and ready to ruin someone's day.
  "Target the dreadnought amidships with Ruth; I don't care about the corvettes, just make sure they sink," Anderson said.  Tropic looked at her.
  "Who, or what, is Ruth?" she asked.  Anderson pointed out the window at the massive railgun turret that took up the front of the deck.
  "That's what the crew have taken to calling her; she packs one hell of a punch," Anderson replied.
  "Ma'am?" the radio operator asked.  Anderson stepped forward.
  "There's a certain amount of satisfaction you get from saying this..." she muttered.  She grabbed the operator's headset and lifted the microphone to her lips.
  "Gun crews: fire all!" she ordered.
  A second later, HMS Sanctuary roared for the whole world to hear.
  Building-sized plumes of flame erupted from her portside and starboard guns, shrouding the ship in a titanic inferno to signal the coming doom of the two corvettes; the ships, unprotected by anything save for their armour, listed alarmingly as they were riddled with holes.  The Sanctuary's fire-control teams, knowing the designs of the Chinese corvettes, had targeted all the right spots; the bridge, fire-control centre, engine bay and reactor.
  Five seconds after they were hit with the barrage of high-explosive shells, the two corvettes exploded.  A blue bubble appeared around the Sanctuary, vaporising all the pieces of debris before they could hit the ship-- "shields to ninety-nine percent!" a technician bellowed over the ungodly din -- as the two corvettes broke in half and began their slow descent to the depths.
  Anderson glared at the dreadnought ahead; it was already sunk, it just didn't know it yet.  Anderson keyed her radio; it transmitted all across the ship.
  "All hands brace," she ordered.  Then she turned to Tropic.
  "You too!"  Tropic nodded, backing into the doorway and bracing herself hard with all six of her limbs.
  Then she lifted the radio up again.
  "Fire Ruth," she said.
  It didn't matter if you had the best armour, state-of-the-art energy shields like the Sanctuary or even if you had all those and were hiding on the far side of a mountain; when Ruth went off, her sixty-ton depleted uranium slug was going to tear you a new one.
  Which is precisely what she did to the Korean dreadnought.
  The slug smashed straight through the dreadnought's armoured hull about twenty metres below the bridge; it ripped open the ship like a tin can, and the force of the impact pushed the dreadnought almost fifty metres sideways.  This sideways motion put too much strain on the weakened flank, and the dreadnought snapped in half under the stress; the two halves drifted apart as they sank, leaving a clear path for the Sanctuary to continue.
  "We've got a few minutes, at best, until another ship comes at us or we get boarded.  Fire-control, reload all guns ASAP and power-down as many non-essential systems as possible; use the extra energy to recharge Ruth.  Tropic, get onto the deck and tell Helena to get in the air!" Anderson ordered.  Tropic turned and made to leave, but Anderson held up her hand at the last minute.
  "Ma'am?" an operator ventured.  Anderson already knew what the operator was going to say before they even spoke.
  "Never mind Tropic; she's already taken off..." she murmured, shaking her head...

HELENA
  As we took off, I glanced at the feed from the cargo-bay displayed on a monitor above my head; everyone except Nyx was strapped in, the tall Deltian was checking everyone's harnesses first.  I flipped a switch on my headset, transmitting to the speakers in the bay.
  "Ladies and gentleman, this is your exceptionally-beautiful captain speaking; please secure all loose items and take your seats, as we are likely to encounter moderate-to-heavy turbulence during our trip, along with a fifty-eight percent chance of dying in a violent explosion.  So, please relax and enjoy your flight," I said into the intercom; on the monitor, Nyx cocked her head to listen before making her way across the hold and taking her seat.
  The plane hovered about fifty metres above the deck of the Sanctuary, just above the minimum safe-distance...
  I flipped two switches, before grabbing the throttle and shoving it all the way forward.
  There was a sickening lurch as the VTOL systems cut out, the jet dropping about ten metres before--
  VWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSHHHH!!!!!
  The jet's main boosters engaged, and I banked hard to one side; the tip of the right wing skimmed the water, and I caught sight of the Sanctuary above me before the plane levelled out and we began to climb.
  It was smooth flying for a few minutes, and we made good progress.  However, just as we pass over the coast, three red triangles appeared on my radar to the tune of a shrill beep; I punched up the diagnostics, which scanned the bogeys.
  Attack drones; designed and built by the Japanese, lightweight and nimble little things that bristled with air-to-air missiles and machine-guns.  Nasty because, fast as the SA-005 VTOL was, it wasn't fast enough to outrun those.  I punched up the intercom again.
  "Ladies and gentleman, I regret to inform you that we've got three UAV drones on our six; I'd advise you all to buckle up and hold onto your lunches, because here's where things get rough!" I said into the microphone.
  "This is why I hate flying," I heard Ghost grumble as she tightened the straps holding her to her seat; Cat, Nyx and Zara did the same but without complaint.
  I was suddenly bathed in red light, and I glanced at the radar; one of the drones was in firing range, and had loosed two missiles at us.  The missiles, represented by two tiny, red circles, were closing in fast.
  I kept one hand on the control stick as the other rushed across the instrument panel, cutting power to one engine; I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stay in place as the jet did a midair-180.  Once we were turned around I switched off the other engine and repowered the VTOL system; now we were hovering.  The computer controlling the two nose cannons immediately locked onto the two missiles, and a split second later they were blown out of the air along with the UAV that had fired them.
  I saw the other two as a pair of tiny dots on a nearby cloud; they both disappeared briefly behind large plumes of fire as they fired six missiles each.
  A quick burst of fire from the jet's nose guns blew up two missiles, and the large explosion consumed another; that still left nine more...
  My hand shot for the throttle and I yanked it right back, simultaneously pulling the control stick to one side; the VTOL boosters died a split second after the plane began to bank, flipping us upside-down.
  I lifted my hand off the throttle, flexing my fingers as the missiles grew closer and closer to us...
  Faster than a bullet, I punched the throttle all the way forward; the VTOL jets, now facing towards both the sky and the missiles arcing down towards us, burst into life.  The massive burst of energy drove the missiles crazy; unable to push through the hurricane of power, they smashed into each other and exploded.  I killed the VTOL jets again a split second later, letting the shockwave from the massive volley of explosions turn the jet the right-way up again, at the expense of about a third of our shields; once we were no longer upside-down, I turned the regular boosters back on and hit the gas.  The two UAVs were out of missiles; they couldn't do any more harm to us.
  "Everyone okay back there?" I asked, looking at the monitor for the first time since the start of the dogfight.
  Ghost was leaning forward as much as her restraints would allow, her pale face poised a few inches above a sick bag she gripped like her life depended on it.
  "Fuck you Helena ... just FUCK YOU!" Ghost half-moaned, half-coughed in reply.
  I just turned off the intercom and laughed.
  Then the radar beeped and turned red again.  It wasn't UAVs this time, no; this time it was two fighter jets.
  I looked at my radar, more specifically at the blue dot representing the drop zone; I then looked at the position of the enemy fighters and worked out how soon they'd intercept us.
  This would be close...

MADDY
  Jackie had heard it first, loudly silencing all of us as she strained to hear something too quiet for anyone else to hear yet.  But then, as the seconds went on, a sound began to grow steadily louder and louder; Titan placed it quickly enough, grabbing his minigun.
  "Jet!" he snarled, priming the weapon.  I leapt to my feet.
  "Titan, get upstairs; Alex, you and Ellen stay here with the wounded and non-fighters.  Jackie, across the road; I'll be next door," I ordered quickly.  Everyone sprang into action as the dim roar quickly built to a howl, then a scream.
  I was caught out in the open when the jet passed overhead; it was flying so low I could see the faint, water-like ripple of its energy shields...
  ...ump-SMMMMAAAAASSSSHH!!!  Something hit the ground in front of me, knocking me to the ground and kicking up a massive cloud of dust.  Winded, I lay on the ground coughing as the plane banked sharply, climbing into the air to evade two Japanese jets that were on its tail.  One jet fired a missile, but the fleeing plane shot off a decoy that the missile went for instead.
  It was then that I managed to push myself up onto one elbow, sighting the object that had nearly crushed me; I was resigned, expecting to see a bomb...
  No, it was a chair!  That plane must've been a troop transport, but I hadn't had a good-enough look at the jet to know whose it was or why the Sunnies were trying to shoot it down.
  Through the cloud, I saw the chair's occupant unbuckle himself; he stood up, waving away the dust as he looked around and took a step towards me...
  I tensed, bunching my hands into fists.
  It was Cat!!

CAT
  I looked to my left and right, seeing the large plumes of dust where Zara, Ghost and Nyx had hit ground; I couldn't see her, but I heard Ghost fall out of her drop-chair and onto the ground.
  "Next time I see Helena, I'm gonna shove her in one of the cannons and skip her across the goddamn Atlantic..!" she growled, slowly recovering her strength.  I let out a quiet chuckle at the thought, but my smile soon disappeared when I turned to the house that the rebels were supposedly hiding in.
  Actually, more like when I saw the minigun-toting giant on the wrecked second floor.  My shields wouldn't stand up to the type of punishment that a gun like that would deliver, so I immediately put up my hands.
  "Don't fire!" I shouted.  The giant didn't respond, except to throw back his head and let out a single, contemptuous "Ha!"
  Then, without another word, he opened fire.
Part thirty-one of a superhero-themed story, with characters and setting made in collaboration with :iconclashmecha:.

SERAPH makes its presence known in Australia.

Wanted to have the title as "Floats like a Butterfly..." but it wouldn't fit :'(
© 2012 - 2024 Clown0fWar
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Carter1215's avatar
I always imagined titan's weapon as a "KILL 'EM ALL!!!" type of weapon.