Chapter 1: CHAPTER – 1 [Knife Brought To A Tank Fight]

'Do you know the saying "Never bring a knife to a gunfight?" I feel like I am in that situation, only I am the only one holding a knife...

....and all my enemies brought tanks.'

"ENEMY TORPEDOS INCOMING ON OUR PORTSIDE!"

Hearing that I couldn't help but wonder where my life went so wrong. Sure, I knew what could happen when I joined the Kenvas Navy but, to be honest, I don't think anyone is truly ready for combat until it happens so suddenly. It doesn't help that I wasn't told I was going into combat until the Admiral in charge of me casually dropped the bomb on me about why my ship was brought out of the port. 

Even though I just got the news I still kept my cool. At least, I am pretty sure I did. I may not have experienced actual combat despite serving in the Navy for over four years but I was someone who rose through the ranks quickly. After all, I became a Captain after my two year training program was over. That was how well I impressed the higher-ups. Despite my achievements, I was given command over the cruiser CK-78, and older model cruiser. It was, in fact, so old that it dated back to GW2. I'm not lying. For some reason the fossil isn't at a museum but is instead still in use. 

Despite to so-called "upgrades" they made to it, she was literally an old cruiser that could just about navigate almost as well as any other modern warship. The firepower? Defenses? Nada. Hell, when I learned the full details of my promotion, I honestly thought I was in a prank. I still did for the entirety of the first year I was Captain of the CK-78. When I was finally given a mission I realized that I wasn't in some kind of prank. To be honest, I wished I was in a prank. The fact that my actual ship is a fossil made me felt like all my hard work was a joke. I honestly began to wonder if the only reason I was promoted to the rank of Captain was because the Navy needed more and I was the best choice to fit in the extra slot without having to worry about actually using me.

I get it. Who would, in their right mind, promote a newly graduated soldier to the rank of Captain and use them in their battles? I know I wouldn't. But, since I am that soldier, I feel like I have the right to be insulted. 

On the bright side, because I am the Captain of a fossil, I was never sent into combat. While I may have joined hoping to see combat, some part of me was glad I didn't. Plus, my first mission was recon. Sure the disturbance I was checking out was never explained to me and I never saw anything odd but that doesn't matter. With my first mission meant I got a slight raise. That's how the Navy works in my Nation. The more missions you go on or the longer you fought in an active battlefield the higher your salary gets. I'm not too sure on the last part though. That may have been only during GW2 and GW1. Yes, they haven't updated certain logs in the academy. Sure speaks wonders on our nation's surprisingly massive and powerful navy.

One of the reasons I joined the Navy, really the primary reason, was to earn money. I'm greedy, what can I say? Yet I tried my hardest to make sure I made it out on top. To be the one on top, to be honest, feels so good. Yes, I am the type of person who gets the best grades to remind others that I am superior to them. It just feels so good...or felt good till it got me here. In my defense, I never showed it openly and I worked my ass off to get to that point. I am not one of those naturally-born gifted people and I would never want to be one. I take pride in my achievements.

Then, one day, I learned just how much someone in the military could earn if they do well. Needless to say I started looking into it and soon joined the Navy, knowing that, despite them saying everyone is equal, people in the Navy get more respect. Don't ask me why that is, I don't know. If I had to guess it might be because of the whole warships are more expensive to make than the supplies given to infantry.

Now, back to my current situation, my personality may not be the best but I am more than capable of handling a tough situation. Yet, there is only so much stuff I am capable of handling. Or, so much shit I am capable of handling. I can feel my mind snapping under the pressure.

As I steered the helm, something I was glad they taught me how to use since modern ships don't have one and, as such, the academy didn't go over how to use them, (which I also don't even know how it fully works) I directed the engines to make the ship turn. Still, since the destroyer kinda fired them a short distance from my cruiser, there was no way I could dodge them in time. I mean, a cruiser is a cruiser no matter how old it may be. So, in other words, a torpedo instantly slammed into the hull of my ship. The impact of the torpedo caused me to fall down on the ground. Luckily I managed to catch myself on the panel in time to avoid falling directly on my face.

"A TORPEDO INB-"

The warning was cut off when another radio blared to life.

"Captain Aqua!? What's your situation?" A thick calm voice asked, causing me to let out a sigh and glare my despair and problems at the speaker the voice came from.

"Admiral Yalim. My ship is under heavy fire, and a torpedo has hit us directly in the center and-"

I got cut off when another large impact shook the entire ship, causing my frown to deepen. A cold shiver went down my spine when I saw the fire outside the window grow in size.

"...and the second torpedo hit us, causing most of the citadel to get set on fire."

"Why don't you fix that up with water?"

I know that what he said was reasonable but I couldn't help but look at the two blinking indicators in front of me and respond in the most flattest, I-give-up voice I could, without even meaning to.

"The ship is also flooding."

"....Then use the water to put out the fire, Captain."

And, with that the speaker shut off. I was glad it did since I couldn't hold in the snort of disbelief I had upon hearing his words...or orders. You know, using the water to put out the fire sounds like a wonderful idea on paper, but that's just on paper. The repair team isn't big enough to split and work on the two problems at the same time. If they do then neither will get fixed in time to avoid major damage. Knowing this I flipped on the intercom and told the repair team to continue fixing the flooding.

At this point I must look like someone who is out of coffee and have been working for twelve hours straight, my eyes wide open yet narrowed in 'acceptation', fully tuckered out and done with the world.

"Our rounds bounced off!"

Hearing that for the thirtieth time within eight minutes caused my right eye to twitch and I had to strongly resist the urge to yell at my crew to stop reporting if the rounds bounced off. It wasn't helping, especially since we are under attack by one destroyer. Sure we are under heavy fire and that is what I reported to my Admiral but the other ships weren't even aiming at us, leaving us to one lone destroyer. That is how much they don't consider us a threat. The only way I could think of doing any harm and becoming a threat is to ram my ship into theirs but, since either they'll sink us before we get a chance and that both ships will sink, and also the fact that I'm not suicidal nor willing to die like that for my country, I'm not considering that plan any time soon.

"Captain! Boxes of ammo landed on Corporal Meerie's legs!"

Upon hearing that something stirred in my fuzzy mind. I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. I have no idea what side Corporal Meerie is on nor where the box of ammo landed on her legs is but I do know that I should try.

So, with a quick shrug and a fuck it, I swung the ship to the right. I didn't get any report so I could have done nothing, slammed the ammo box into whoever reported the injury in the first place, or managed to save her. Either way, she wasn't the worst of my problems at the moment. I had accidentally turned towards the destroyer. Luckily the destroyer sped up and avoided the front of my cruiser but, on the down side, we weren't facing the destroyer broadside...not like our guns were doing anything anyway.

It was at this point that I decided to abandon this fight and beach the ship at the island directly in front of me to make emergency repairs, and also hope that the enemies don't fire at my fossil of a ship.

That is if the destroyer doesn't sink us first.

"PENETRATION!"

I was about two seconds away from yelling at the gunners to stop reporting shells that bounce when I realized what he said.

"Penetrated where!?" I demanded, looking out the window of the bridge at the destroyer. Even before the gunner reported I could tell what was hit. I could see the smoke rising from within.

"Their missiles were hit. The destroyer's guns are temporarily disabled because of the internal damage."     *

I felt a small smile form on my lips. 

"Actually, gunner one, I think the destroyer is retreating. Look at it go!"

I know they won't be able to see the destroyer fully from where they are at but I betcha they are ecstatic to hear the news.

"This is Captain Aqua speaking," I say, putting on the intercom, "We are going to land at the island in front of us for emergency repairs. Get ready for a rough...landing I guess."

I knew that the ship isn't going to make it on the shore of the island. Our engines are too damaged for that, though the primary reason would be the amount of water the ship has taken in.

"And yes, I will deal with whatever the Admiral has to say about it," I added, hoping that my boss in his big-elephant aircraft carrier would give me a break. Even his aircraft carrier had armor to deflect most torpedoes while I am lucky this cruiser of mine managed to tank two and only twelve shells from a destroyer, the small ship of naval warfare.

At least we aren't getting our ass kicked by a frigate. Though, to be honest, I had a feeling it was only a amount of time until that happens.

 

 

. . .... . .

 

 

"So, why did you want me here?" I asked, confused as to why the medical officer on board called me down.

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In front of me were three women, one of them can't be any older than eighteen, though she didn't look like it with her small stature, chubby cheeks and short brown hair, not calling her fat by the way. Still, seeing the corporal marker on her outfit I knew she clearly wasn't eighteen years old. After all, Kenvas enlistment age is seventeen and it takes two years to finish training so unless something happened this person is around nineteen to twenty years old. She was also the one who got her legs crushed by an ammo box.

"Have you seen the ammo box that fell out of storage?" The medical officer asked, pointing to around five old looking ammo boxes that were stuck in between an old unused storage door, with one of them being outside the door, presuming it being the one that fell on the Corporal. 

I raised an eyebrow but went to examine the ammo box. It was most definitely old but, going off its weight and the sound of it, there were shells still inside. After a quick look at the serial number on the boxes I realized I didn't recognize them. It wasn't until I took out my knife and popped off the lid did I realize why.

"...These are back from GW2!" I exclaimed.

"I guess they really didn't bother cleaning the ship thoroughly, huh?" 

Turning my head towards the voice, I surprised myself by recognizing the two newcomers. The tall one with dark blue hair is Ryan Octar, a foreigner if I'm not mistaken. He's handsome and popular among the girls back in the academy, but for some reason, not with the girls on my ship. I guess they either had different tastes or he just lost his appeal to them. 

The one who spoke I recognized as Rachel Serwiss, one of my friends back in the academy that I was lucky to have come under my command. She looked similar to the injured corporal, having similar short brown hair and a bit of a chubby attire to her. However, unlike the corporal, she didn't look tough, rather looking shy and timid instead. Even what she just said, which I can't discern if it was supposed to be a joke, statement, or a nervous observation, trembled a little. The fact that we nearly just died to a destroyer probably didn't help her nerves either.

And, as always, she somehow managed to strike a nerve in me, albeit a minor one.

"...Yes, thank you for pointing that out, Rach," I say with a slight hiss. Even if I did have a slight hiss to my sentence, I still consider it a win! It wasn't a full one, after all.

"And now she's smug." 

Choosing to ignore the comment from Ryan and the medical officer behind me, as well as the weird look that passed between them, opting instead to look anywhere that isn't Rachel's hurt expression, which ended up being the shells inside the box. 

"Can I get the ammo guy, uhh, Eeger down here?" I asked, frowning upon the fact that I don't recognize the shells in front of me and that I needed him, "I think he can help with this...problem."

I hated myself for having to give out the order. I prided myself on my knowledge, and it hurt me that someone like Eeger was almost as knowledgeable as me. Eeger is a greasy old scumbag of a human being. A pile of bones that smokes almost every time I see him, which is a lot more than I would have liked. If one were to ask me why I hated him, I would hand them a list I have made for the scenario. 

Still, he isn't known as the Ammo Freak for a reason, or the ammo guy as I sometimes call him. Yet, if there was anyone I can currently talk to who would recognize the shells, including the admiral, it would be him. 

The woman who was with the medical officer and the corporal, a private, left to go fetch the man while I continued to study the shells more, trying to understand what the yellow markings on them meant. Well, it was more of a sunset-like yellow, so maybe more of an orange color than a yellow one. However, I already called it yellow, and am now seeing it as yellow, I will call it a yellow color.

Surprisingly, it didn't take too long for Eeger to appear. In fact, it took less time than I thought. It seems that not only is he in a compliant mood, but he wasn't as his normal post, instead probably being somewhere around the upper deck. As much as it brings me shame and annoys me, I'm going to be asking around later just what he was doing up there. Normally, someone like him shouldn't leave his post during combat, and I received no signals nor calls that would draw him away from his station.

As usual, he wore a rough grey sweater over his rough dark grey sailor uniform, as well as his baggy pants. His yellow eyes and his musty yellowish beard, as well as his wrinkles, make him look way older than fifty-three. Add that to his skinny body and his weird toothy grins and anyone would think him some kind of diseased-ridden fisherman way out in the farmland mucks, priding himself on his hard work to escape reality and the simple phone call that would give him the help he needs. Of course, Eeger didn't need any help. He was a bit more like some kind of lone cowboy rather than some fisherman out in the farmlands.

Also as usual, he has a cigar in the corner of his mouth, the left side this time. I swear he alternates every day or every couple of hours or something. There was something different about him, though. He didn't have some kind of grin on him, nor even a neutral expression. However, the moment he got a good look at my face, his damn grin came back.

"Well, it seems that Captain Aqua needs me for something," he pointed out the obvious in his rather deep voice. I swear he sounds like some kind of smooth talking religious priest, "What can I do you for?"

I let out a soundless sigh and gave a wordless explanation, pointing at the box of shells since I was too exhausted to talk to him.

"Hmmm. These are some old shells you got here," he got to one knee, getting a closer look, "They are also still useable and don't look like they will be faulty."

"I...well, I guess that makes sense. The guns were barely improved, after all," I remember that the engineers managed to get the guns in working condition, as well as make them tougher. Other than that, and no matter how hard I looked, which I did look pretty damn hard, I could not spot any other upgrades.

"Well, that and the splice and filter inside the shells that make sure they last for a long, long time," He pointed out what I was about to say next, as usual.

"But...what are they?"

"What do you mean? Their high explosive shells, Captain," Eeger has a frown on his face and I know for sure he is confused. He only ever calls me Captain without disrespect if he was confused or off.

"Yeah but I have never seen the yellow markings on it before. Those yellow-to-orange markings must mean something different, right?"

At my words, he grabbed one of the shells and started studying it further, turning it around like I did to look for words. Yet, only after two seconds of turning the shell around, his face lit up and I knew he had remembered the answer. It irked me that he remembered and didn't happen to see something I missed on the shells but that was honestly just tick for tack. At least now I will have an answer.

"These are shells, or rounds used for exploding, yes, but what sets them apart from normal HE shells is that they are made specifically for setting things on fire."

I felt a shiver run down my spine at his words. 

"Can you...repeat that?" I had to ask him, even though his words rang clear through my mind.

"I said these shells were made specifically for setting things, primarily ships, forts, and bunkers, on fire," He clearly added more to his claim, and wipe that half frown and half knowing smirk off your face!

"Captain, you aren't still afraid of fire now, are you?"

I promptly replied by giving him the middle finger. 

"There's a fire right outside these walls, you know."

"Of course I know. Anyway, help Ryan here put away the shells. We have no use for them anyway," I gave my order, crossing my arms and taking some silent satisfaction at the annoyed and surprised look on Ryan's handsome face, "Besides, it's not worth the risk of them being ineffective or faulty even if they have a filter."

With that I turned around and made my way back towards the citadel. Now that we were docked...somewhat, and I gave out the orders to get my ship back in running order as well as checked out the call from the medical officer, it is time to decide what to do next. That means I have to check the intel I have and, if it comes down to it, call the Admiral for orders. However, knowing him, I already know exactly what his orders are going to be.

Once inside the command panel, I pressed a button, telling the intel department to send out the drones and gather up and read what our allies are sending out. I would like to know if we are winning this battle. I mean, we should considering we outnumber the enemy fleet around two to one. Maybe one fifth to one would be a better description. The enemy also don't have any submarines nor an aircraft carrier, which means our lack of destroyers won't affect us, nor do any of us have to worry about airplanes in the sky aside from our own friendly ones. And, considering how intact each squadron or wing looks flying back to the Admiral, I say they are doing pretty damn well. Admiral Yalim may be something, but damn if he isn't good at using an aircraft carrier to its full potential. 

"Shells made for setting things on fire...what kind of maniac would make such a thing?" I knew that it was perfectly reasonable why someone would make such a weapon. If fire worked well against ground infantry and, well, towns and cities, especially farms, there was nothing saying it wouldn't work on a ship. The irony there is thick as well. Burning alive surrounded by water. Wh-what a way to go, huh.

...No. No, no, No! Now's not the time to think about the past and the, uhh, fire. I need to get a plan of action in order and get this ship moving. It won't be long before the enemy finds us, and it will be extremely easy for a battleship to just lob a couple of shells or missiles our way. Once that happens, it is bye-bye carrier and crew for us. It won't even be an inconvenience for the enemy to end us either. Hell, knowing them they will do it in the middle of a fight. Spiteful bunch they are. 

I couldn't help it but to let out a big sigh and sink deeper into my red swivel chair. It is probably the most comfortable seat I have ever sat in in my life. I could just fall asleep in it, something I have done before, even in our current situation. I'm not going to, of course. Now is nowhere near the right time for a quick nap.

Plus, another reason why I can't go for a quick nap, is that the destroyer from before is bound to still be hanging around. Us taking out their weapons is a set back for them, but not much of an actual blow. Soon enough they will track us down. It will be hard thanks to my ship's old design but, once they learn to stop using the modern way of tracking a ship and use the older way, my ship will be found faster than a seagull can snatch some bread and fly away on a peer. 

I let out another sigh. No combat experience, using an old cruiser that can barely penetrate a simple and basic destroyer's hull, and no relief party is coming. At least, I assume so. We are in the middle of a battle, with said battle happening in an actual battlefield that has been active for over two years. An active hotspot. I would bet two hundred thousand dings that there is another battle taking place, and that battle is close to sixty miles away from the current one I am in. 

Ugh. How am I supposed to get my ship and my crew out of this mess safely? Well, instead of focusing on that question, I can just focus on getting our ship out of he-

"Enemy Destroyer Rapidly Approaching Our Location!"

Alrighty. Well, guess I'm going to meet a watery end!