Work Text:
ABOVE INSTALLATION 00, “THE ARK” | APRIL 2, 2559
“It’s done, Captain! The message is sent!”
“Good, now get back to the Spirit of Fire!”
“Something tells me that’s… oh… oh, that’s bad.”
“What is it, Anders? What’s going on?”
“The Ark is trying to open a slipgate, but these readings, they’re- they’re all wrong! They’re way too high!”
“What does that mean for us, Anders!?”
“It means- oh shit, the slipgate’s gravity is spiking!”
“Damn it, we still have birds out there! Isabel, get me in contact with Jerome!”
“I’m trying, but the slipgate’s energy is messing with our comms!”
Pelicans and Condors loaded with personnel drift into view, being dragged helplessly into the massive slipspace anomaly that was just torn open.
“Captain, what do we do!?”
“Without our slipspace drive, there’s not much we can do.”
A deep, resigned sigh from the otherwise energetic captain.
“Isabel, take us into the slipwell.”
“Take us in-!?”
“We can’t leave our men behind. It’s the only “good” option.”
“...you’re right. Taking us in. I’ll do everything I can to minimize collateral damage. All hands, brace!”
“You heard her! Everyone, hold onto something!”
The captain takes one last look at the chaos unfolding before him.
“God willing, we’ll all meet again on the other side of this.”
MIDWAY ATOLL | JUNE 7, 1942
Burning oil coats the waves and fills the air with smoke, making it hard to see anything other than silhouettes. Gunfire, the roar of engines, and the bursting of bombs make it hard to hear anyone who isn’t right beside you. The smoldering wrecks of planes and ships makes it hard to tell what’s alive, let alone friendly. Amid all this, the proud Sakura carrier Hiryuu stands alone, if only barely. Her sisters and friends have all been sunk or forced to flee, and now it’s her turn to make that fateful decision.
“No, this can’t be how it ends…!” Hiryuu pulls herself up from a kneel, mustering her remaining aircraft. “I can’t let the honor of the Sakura Empire be tarnished here! I won’t let MY honor be tarnished here! Come what may, I refuse to run home with my tail between my legs! If I am to be sunk here, let it be a warrior’s death!”
A moment of quiet washes over the opposite end of the battlefield, only to be broken by the thunder of all of Hiryuu’s remaining aircraft speeding toward Yorktown. Her sisters, Hornet and Enterprise, turn and try to rush to her side. On any other day, under any other circumstances, this would mark the end of the proud Eagle Union carrier. But this day is no ordinary day.
As Yorktown looks to the sky, accepting her fate, she sees a barrage of homing missiles pass screaming overhead from behind her, stopping Hiryuu’s final and most powerful attack dead in its tracks. Leaving her absolutely no other choice but to be dragged away by her sister, Soryuu. A few seconds behind the homing missiles, a procession of verdant green and utterly alien aircraft, propelled not by the front-mounted engines Yorktown knows but by side- and back-mounted vent-like engines exhaling orderly trails of brilliant blue flame, searching the battlefield for any other threats.
She gets so lost in the majesty of the sight that she almost doesn’t notice when her sisters throw their bodies over her to act as sacrificial shields, startling her eagle off of her shoulder and into an orbit around the three carriers.
“Yorktown, are you alright!?” cries Enterprise, examining her eldest sister for any grievous injuries. “Please be okay! We can’t lose you!” pleads Hornet, dispatching fighters to join Yorktown’s eagle in circling the trio. “I’m… I’m okay, I think. I can still make it home, at least,” comes Yorktown’s reassurance. “But I can’t help but feel as though those UFOs saved me from a terrible fate.” After being met with looks of confusion from this statement, Yorktown points at one of the green aircraft that she can see through the smoke. “Look there. It’s like a leaf on the wind, but it strikes with the ferocity of even young Laffey.”
The two younger sisters look, and Enterprise makes a keen observation: “Doesn’t look like it’s picking any more fights to me. More like confirming whether the area’s clear… Do you think we should try to hail it?” This merits a sagely nod from Yorktown, who adds: “Since they’re not trying to attack us, perhaps they’d be willing to join our cause. Hornet, if you would, please?”
Needing no further instruction, Hornet sets her radio to broadcast across all available frequencies, and clears her throat.
“This is the Eagle Union aircraft carrier Hornet, hull CV-8, hailing the group of unidentified aircraft in the airspace over Midway Atoll. Please identify and state your intentions, over.”
What feels like a silent eternity (but in reality, is only around 30 seconds) passes before a response comes over an open channel.
“Spartan Jerome-092, responding to aircraft carrier Hornet’s hail on behalf of Pelican Transport Group Delta-Three. Our intention is to find a long-range communications array and re-establish contact with our station, the interstellar command carrier Spirit of Fire, hull CFV-88, over.”
“Interstellar command carrier? CFV hull designation? And I’m just supposed to believe, what, you’re from space? I have no patience for jokes like these, over.”
“This isn’t a joke, ma’am. Look up, as far as you can. There’s no clouds, so you’ll be able to see clearly what I mean...”
Baffled, Hornet looks as far out into the sky as she can… and sees what could almost be mistaken for the Earth’s reflection against the firmament of the heavens. That, and the shape of a hull once thought to be only possible in sci-fi novels.
“And if you don’t mind, we brought a big ol’ ring with us for the Earth to wear, over.”