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Growling in fury, Len'Dok strode over to the holo tactical plot, watching the rest of the system for a moment, nearly ignoring the efforts of his fleet to reform. In total, the assault hadn't done enough damage to cause him to rethink his plans, but if the humans could attack like that again… "Leave sensor probes behind where those ships disappeared. Then I want the destroyers broken up and spread out around the rest of the fleet in division-sized viddirwolf packs. Half the cruisers will back them up. Together they are to push out to the edge of our secondary sensors."
Those were the scanners the Skrull ships used to actually fight with, rather than survey a system. This tactic would remove the destroyers from any hope of being aided by the artilleries of their larger brethren, but Len'Dok was willing to sacrifice those ships for the majority. That was, after all, what they were for.
"The remaining cruisers will form a spherical formation around the battleships and Equalizers, which will assume Formation Zed." This Skrull space war formation was much like the previous one, except it had no depth to it. The ships involved basically assumed the shape of a giant X shape, three ships thick in most places bar the center of the X, with no trailing tail.
For a moment the tactical officers frowned, but then understood. With the larger ships just as susceptible to the strange silver beams as their smaller brethren, they had to be defended from any kind of contact with them. And let us hope that the repaired Kree ships the humans pilfered don't have the capital grade equivalent of that hell weapon. "The fleet will advance thus. And I want every eye on our scanners as we do. We cannot afford to be caught in a battle against the human's super-powered troops if they have more of those attack craft."
OOOOOOO
Due to extensive use of the time dilation chambers and the sheer amount of Doom-designed repair droids that the Avalon Empire had slowly amassed, the Empire had indeed built up a surplus of Ravens. They'd had to shift a lot of their priorities around, and even doing that would have ultimately failed to meet their goal without Harry's newest trading partners, the so-called Inhumans, getting involved. However, thanks to said involvement, the Empire had around three thousand Ravens. As of that moment, eight hundred of these, those who had been a part of the ready CAP (Combat Air Patrol), had already been practically wiped out.
Yet while that might've been true, the human cost had thankfully been far lower, something that brought a wry, wary grin to Whitaker's face as he reported, "We only lost forty-two crewmen by the end. Forty-two casualties scattered across eight hundred Ravens. The emergency teleport function still worked wonderfully even in a battle like this. We've still got a lot more injured, but even there, we're doing far better than I'd anticipated. The survivability of our ships was also an unexpectedly positive major factor."
"However, I highly doubt we can hope our next strikes will be as effective. Assuming an opponent is stupid is a great way to get dead." Whitaker then highlighted the new enemy formation on the main strategic hologram in front of them, watching as it cut a course to intercept the fake earth. "We… could be a little sneaky here. By all reports, the teleportation rings seem to be invisible to them, so there's a chance we might be able to jump to their fleet central command, but to do that we'd need to wait until they reach the mid-system range. Personally, I think leaving them to their own devices for that long isn't the best idea. Powers?"
"I'm reluctant to take my fleet in against them alone sirs. However, I might be willing to try if we could somehow convince them to hyper after us," Admiral Powers replied. He was the fleet admiral currently operating as the field officer, while Whitaker had switched over to the role of overall commander. Murphy, not to be left out, had taken charge of Fortress Mars and it's defenses.
"We could maybe shut down the hyperspace trap, make them think we can only hold it in readiness for a short amount of time before we run out of energy?" Murphy mused.
"Again, I don't know if they'd fall for that bait even if we set it out for them. That in mind I think splitting up our Ravens will be the plan then. Load up half of them, get the crews back into fighting shape, and prepare them to strike just in case when our fleet goes in. That won't happen though until we get some Custodes type help out up here," Whitaker decided.
"The Human Torch is already here on Fortress Mars, along with Polaris. I've been assured that others should be on their way soon," Murphy assured. "Powers, prepare your fleet to jump in once the rest of our supers arrive. We'll let you do that and get fully engaged with their destroyer screens before my people shut down the hyperspace trap and you retreat, the timing of which I will leave up to you."
OOOOOOO
While Pinoptes' warning had grabbed the attention of those gathered around Loki's cell, it couldn't hold it for long. Events much closer to hand took precedence.
For a brief second, nearly missed by Harry and the others as Pinoptes spoke, Dani stared unblinking at the world around her, her body frozen. Then, she felt a vast… pulling sensation, if she'd had to describe it. Pulling, tugging, sucking, regardless of the term used—and none of those were quite accurate—some kind of pressure was suddenly building up inside of her. As it did, a power, or perhaps a weight across her entire being, thrust itself out from within her blood, crossing that vague connection between her life's essence and the internal dimension where Sigyn's soul resided—or had been made of Sigyn's soul. It was magic on a level Dani had never even heard described before, let alone felt and could do nothing as the feeling washed over her, gasping. She nearly slumped to her knees, only held upright by Fenrir's bulk pressing into her from the side.
The gasp, light as it was, drew everyone's eyes back to her, and Harry wasted no time in tearing the door to the jail open rushing to her side as Skadi and Hela crowded in. The younger goddess wormed her way around Harry to wrap a supportive arm around her lover's waist. "Dani beloved, what is going on, is the Trickster's blood somehow attacking you or…?"
"GU—UgHhh…" Dani could only slur, her eyes rolling back into her sockets as the strange sensation continued.
Harry stared between Dani and Loki, the bound god looking equally as poleaxed, if not more so than the young Cheyenne girl. The God of Mischief was swaying on his feet, his legs very obviously losing their strength as his entire mind was pulled elsewhere. Harry quickly cast a spell to hold the Asgardian in place, fearing what would happen if he fell and broke the connection that had undoubtedly formed between him and Dani for the moment. "Bloody damn it, this is some bad timing! I think it's happening. Sigyn's soul is pushing itself into Loki through their blood… Soul magic at this level is…"
Hela stared as well, using her divine equivalent of mage-sight for a moment before cancelling the spell and looking away, blinking rapidly behind her mask. "GAH! That, that is the soul of a goddess!? It reminds me very strongly of the souls of the children within Eylandəvbarnœska, but many times greater, more varied and experienced, with none of their innocence but all of their goodness."
"And in terms of what it actually looked like? For those of us with no magical ability?" Skadi questioned, mind only half pulled away from her still addled lover, watching Hela raise hand to rub at her eyes.
"It was like someone had taken the sun and shone all of its radiance through a prism," Hela groused, unamused. "Blinding does not do it justice."
Despite Hela's warnings, Harry attempted to look as well, but not before ordering Skadi to keep the pair's hands connected as he did so. He held out for a bare second longer than Hela, mostly because his mage sight worked differently than the goddess's, before looking away. "Wow. Yeah, okay, keep them connected. Whatever is going on is still building up, and it's taking a toll on both of them. But I think it should be over soon."
Roughly five minutes later, a blazingly bright rainbow of colors burst out of the immaterial into the material. All those present, four-legged and two legged alike, gasped and shouted, scrambling to cover their eyes through howls of pain bar the two participants, neither of whom were seeing anything at that point. Yet even as the rest writhed in eye-searing pain, at the same time a feeling of love, of motherly delight washed over them, causing them to smile.
As they were all looking away, none saw the center of the blazing light shift in midair, though they did notice when its radiance disappeared into Loki's body, a bright glow left behind in the god's chest that slowly receding within. For a moment after the light vanished the pressure the magic users had felt still rested upon them. Then with a snap, it too disappeared, and Loki slumped as much as Harry's spell would allow, his mind most decidedly offline for the moment. A second later, Dani followed, and Skadi and Fenrir gently guided their lover and friend away, nearly carrying her between them.
"Well… that was… something," Hela murmured, causing Harry to give her a deadpan stare.
Abruptly, Jean's voice arrived in their heads, her telepathic voice a furious snarl. "HELLO!? Apocalyptic World Invasion going on here, you two! Get your sexy asses moving!"
Shaking his head at the jarring whiplash back to the here and now, Harry wordlessly raced away, Hela and Garm at his heels. Hela flushing faintly for a second at Jean's flirtatious term. Moments later as they fully remembered what had been going on, her expression hardened to Harry's own as they burst through the runic doorways to Camelot, Harry immediately shouting out, "Sitrep, Pinoptes! Dennis!"
By the time Whitaker, Powers, and Murphy were preparing their second assault on the slowly advancing alien fleet, Harry and Hela were once more in the loop. Gathering his various officers took some time, but eventually the Custodes, the X-men, and their other allies had gathered in Camelot, ready to respond to the worldwide threat.
Meanwhile, Dennis and Pinoptes had continued to compile information on what was happening around the planet, contacting local commanding forces in various places, not only within the Empire, but in allied countries as well. This ended up including a few that they weren't formally allied with but still had good relations toward, or a mutual defense treaty at least, such as with Taiwan, just to make certain that they were all on the same page moving forward.
"First things worst," Dennis began, standing at the front of the packed hall. "There is no easy way to say this. Somehow, someway, the alien invaders have convinced or otherwise coerced the Chinese military to go crazy."
At his words the holo-globe, hovering in the air to one side, rotated and zoomed in on China. Once it had the country center stage, Pinoptes began updating the display with real-time information. The crowd watched stone-faced as Chinese military units began to move every which way. Most worryingly, this included naval units gathering at what were obviously assault forces.
"Their air force and naval units are both on the move, attacking all and sundry barring, for whatever reason, North Korea of all places. Thankfully, North Korea doesn't seem to have been infested with the same madness, and they are hunkering down, shouting out about how it is some kind of direct threat to them, but doing nothing," Dennis reported. "That's all that we can ask for right now, and the local American forces were already responding as well when Pinoptes and I began to put together this report."
"And let me guess, the Mandarin is saying that this is an internal matter and that they'll handle it?" Harry growled, mentally snarling at his past self once more for trying to work with that man.
"Yes, he is, but he's also openly calling the naval forces that have bombarded Taiwan and fired missiles at units of the Japanese and American Pacific Fleets operating in those waters 'rogue elements that are no longer associated with the Party'," Dennis answered. Seeing the raised brow in response, he continued. "In CCP terms, that means that the defenders can deal with their attackers as they wish without repercussions. Why he did so we don't know, although I will say that our sensors haven't detected any communication between the rogue fleet and China proper. There will no doubt be issues later, but right now, again, that might be the best we can get since the Americans have already started firing back."
Sage took the stage then, gesturing at the holo-globe hovering in the center of the hall, which again changed, zooming in still further. "Meanwhile in China itself, we have Chinese units fighting one another, Chinese units fighting the invaders, and Chinese units sitting on their hands. Mandarin has personally taken command of the military bases surrounding Nanjing and seems to be directing some kind of response against the invaders from there."
Dennis stepped forward again, being both an ex-military man and knowledgeable of the Chinese nomenclature, understanding what they were being told better than Sage despite her vastly better technical and analytical skills. "From what we can discern he's doing an alright job, but he's also moving all over the place, or at least, his commands are coming out that way. He seems to believe, and I would agree, that the aliens somehow headhunted officers from around the portal they opened there and took any and all intelligence they could. From this they gained access to various codes and phrases to give out seemingly legitimate orders and used those to cause the chaos we're seeing."
"Mandarin's even gone so far as to have ordered all of the nuclear-capable sites to be shut down. For now, only an in-person command from him will be allowed to reopen them. According to open radio signals we've intercepted, there is a verified order on repeat that states that any officer suggesting otherwise is to be shot on sight. That being said, I don't know how effective that will be," Mystique interjected. A consummate spy with decades of experience, Dennis had utilized her skills to help parse the captured radio signals from China. "This is the kind of operation I would only be able to pull off if I had both my own powers and that of a telepath. Quite a deadly combination."
"China is just one ton of the multiple tons of mountain scree currently falling on us. What of the rest of the globe?" Hela demanded.
"The largest attack so far, or at least the one that has the most units already enter our world, has been the one on Washington. Enemy forces are spreading out quickly, but they're also coming under heavy fire from the Air Force, Army, Navy, and National Guard. Of course, they've struck back just as hard. Nearly every base within a hundred miles of the US Capital is either no longer responding or has sent out an SOS stating they are under heavy pressure," Sir Dennis answered, looking over to Enterprise. "On top of that, they pushed out a massive force toward Hampton Roads. But there they were stonewalled, badly."
The cybernetic worthy stood up, smiling slightly. "My little side project, Black Dragon, has been going forward at an appreciable pace. Her accompanying AI hadn't been brought online last I checked, but I have no doubt that she is active now. I'm sure that the various anti-air defenses we sold to the U.S. Navy no doubt came as a supreme surprise to the invaders."
"Our rockets and missiles give us more range than their strictly energy-type weapons, but even their small skimmers seem to have shielding. On average it takes two missiles to knock them out of the sky. And according to this, while we've downed several hundred of those, we've only shot down eighteen of the larger eel-like creatures so far," Steve reported. "And they are still bringing in more and more troops. Thousands of skimmers, infantry the large eels and these strange manta ray things are pouring in all the time. Thankfully, The president is safe under Mount Cheyenne at the NORAD headquarters. Local military commanders are handling this about as well as can be expected. We've war-gamed things like this before, someone attacking Washington in force. It, after all, has happened in the past," he finished drolly, looking at his very British girlfriend and his nominally British friend. Harry couldn't help but snort at the look, despite the serious atmosphere.
Sage, however, burst the brief moment of levity with all the subtly and tact of an orbital bombardment. "The Pentagon, Congress, and the Supreme Court were not as lucky as the president. The Pentagon was a bloodbath by what few reports we got. They fought hard but went down within minutes. Whichever congressmen and senators were at Capitol Hill when everything started, they're gone now. That includes the Vice President, the Speaker of the House, and President pro tempore of the Senate. The Secretary of State is also missing. The President is the only one who wasn't there. The enemy tried to decapitate the US government, and only failed because of the warnings the Custodes have been giving everyone."
"Nearly the same occurred in France, although the French were not as willing to thank us as the Americans were for those warnings. Of course, now they're screaming for help to reclaim Paris. The city is entirely under the command of the invaders by this point," Ororo murmured, sighing slightly. She'd been handling that line of communication, and it had been frustrating from day one. "The aliens also began destroying the city almost immediately upon arrival, whereas in Washington that was a side effect of the attack on Capital Hill for a bit."
Harry nodded, staring at the images on the holo-map for a moment as Steve cut in again, saying that Nick Fury was reportedly on the ground in Washington leading a group of police, special forces, CIA, and other operatives through a guerilla campaign try and cause as much damage to the invaders as they could within Washington. Currently, however, that wasn't much beyond ambushing any the Chitauri infantry they could who'd strayed from air cover. Air superiority over the city was definitely in the hands of the aliens.
That said, considering that the invaders, the Chitauri as they'd been confirmed to be, didn't seem to be after anything more than killing as many people as they could find, any little bit helped. Harry shuddered to think of the number of dead already, a feeling of deep guilt pooling in his gut.
"All right. It's clear we need to address each front, and that means we need to split up our forces, unfortunately. I wish we could concentrate on each incursion point in detail, but if we do that, we're going to lose thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands more civilians in every other theater. And we've lost too many already," Harry said aloud, clenching his fists as he stood up. "We should've anticipated this kind of shotgun approach to an invasion the moment we learned about the Chitauri."
"And what could we have accomplished then, my Seidr Man?" Hela interjected firmly but not unkindly, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We had no way of accurately tracking Loki, no way of knowing where he had been unless we arrived on his heels quickly enough to discover his magical signature. Until they activated them, the beacons were also invisible to our magic and science. Nor did we have any idea the Chitauri would be so wildly violent in their approach, deliberately targeting civilian targets. After all, Freya was our only source on the Chitauri themselves, and attacking Asgard is nothing like attacking Earth. Even if we had information of their campaign against my folk, we would not have known the Chitauri would assault civilians like this. So I will hear no self-recriminations on your part."
Harry smiled wanly in return, taking Hela's hand and squeezing it briefly, trying not to look over at Emma who he could tell was also glaring at him for the guilt she probably could feel rolling off of him. Collecting himself, he turned back to the matter at hand. "Jean, we're not going to send too large a force to China without being invited; the last thing we need is to add even more fuel to that powder keg. Do you think you could head in and deal with them? On your own I mean?"
Of all of Harry's people, only Jean had both the ability to counter something that could apparently take people over and the raw telekinetic power to work on a countrywide scale. Indeed, before the issue in China had been fully explained, Harry had been tempted to send her after the rogue fleet attacking the country's neighbors. Released from moral restrictions like taking prisoners or avoiding nearby civilians, Jean would've been able to wipe out the whole fleet in short order.
Harry could've as well, obviously, but he was going to be busy elsewhere. The Chitauri obviously aren't our only enemy here, and if the communications of their leaders Pinoptes told me about while we waited for everyone to arrive are any indication… well, it seems like it's time to bite the bullet and fight Titan with Titan.
"If Emma and Charles are willing to back me up if I need it, then yes," Jean answered firmly. This was exactly the kind of mission she had rushed to get back into shape after giving birth to the twins for, this was why she was part of the World Guard in the first place. Even while thinking of that, Jean had to force down the small twinge of fear for her two little ones. Mentally, she knew they were safe, hidden away in Camelot, up in the headmaster's tower in fact. And they were also under so many magical defenses it would take an orbital bombardment fit to crack the planet several times over to get through to them. And even then, no one looking to do so would be able to find Camelot in the first place.
Harry gazed into Jean's eyes for a few seconds, then slowly nodded. Worry was clear in his emerald gaze, but he couldn't address it now. He had orders to give. Looking around, he breathed in once, then nodded, making certain to meet every individual's eyes as he continued, his words firm. This is one of those times where I need to make a decision as a hero rather than a king.
"That's China, then. As for the rest of the world… I am somewhat reminded of a quote from Sun Tzu. 'He who defends everything defends nothing'. But… there are civilians dying all over the place, and as much as it would make good military sense to concentrate our forces and overwhelm each portal's forces en masse, our allies and their people would pay for such a tactic in blood; the blood of their soldiers, and the blood of their innocent. I cannot allow that."
He waited for the objections, the sensible thing to be reiterated by those with harder hearts, but even Hela and Emma remained silent. Whether that was because they agreed that it was the right thing to do or thought it made good long-term strategic sense—after all, if they didn't start pushing back against all of the Chitauri beach heads simultaneously, the invading forces wherever they didn't strike would continue to grow and thus make it hard to stop them in the long run. Ultimately it would put their own people in a lot of danger, but that was a price they would have to pay.
"Hear, hear!" came a dry agreement from the doors that led into the main hall.
The others all turned in shock at the speaker, Skadi leaping to her feet. "Danielle! But—"
"I'm fine. The uh… transfer, I suppose was a bit… yeah…" Dani shook herself, not wanting to think about the sensations, the weirdness that had involved, The grateful 'thank you' that had railroaded through her mind like a runaway train in a canyon also bore ignoring for the moment. Instead , she focused on concentrating on the here and now, hugging her girlfriend before looking over at Harry. "Ghigau reporting to duty, my Jarl."
"I see that someone has studied the book of too gung-ho for their own good as well," Harry said in response, snorting but nodding his acceptance. "Good. Skadi, I will be writing up a formal request for aid from Asgard. No doubt Odin will want it in writing. Emma, you'll transfer to Babylon and coordinate the Asgardian's response as they come in."
Skadi and Emma both nodded and Harry turned to the others while Dani and Skadi took a moment to cuddle a bit at the back of the room. How the embarrassed but happy look on Skadi's face as she wrapped around Dani transformed her normally fierce visage into one somewhat cute was amazing, Harry reflected before turning to more important matters.
"Scott, I'm sending you and all of the X-men to Washington. Steve, go with them. You're in overall command of that battle. We'll send in one of the battalions of ODMs as well. Beyond that, I will leave that battle entirely up to you and the surviving locals." Harry smiled a small, wintry smile. "Just don't let me hear about tanks entering urban environments without accompanying infantry please, or anything else equally stupid? That would hurt my heart."
Steve snorted, but Sage interjected before the soldier out of time could respond. "Tony Stark has announced he would also appreciate the opportunity to help sir," she said, bringing up a static image of the inventor on a holo-screen. "He and the president are already in talks about getting his house arrest officially lifted, rather than merely working around it by using his runic doorway."
Harry nodded, then turned to Colossus. "Severomorsk is yours. You'll lead the majority of the World Guard there, bar Ororo, Cannonball, Dani, and Amara. Another battalion of ODMs will go in with you as well, commanded by Sean McIntyre or Jeff Blaze. The two of them are our most senior ODM field officers. I imagine that you will want to be with Steve in America, Sam?"
But the Falcon shook his head, gesturing to the map. "Russia. They'll need my help there more than Washington will with how far the Chitauri have already spread. Whoever, or whatever, is in charge there is pushing hard. The attack in France isn't nearly as well organized or as large. Speaking of, who all were you thinking of sending to Paris?"
"Thunderbird, Cortez, Mystique, Thing, and Thundra. Along with another company of ODMs that will drop directly into the City of Lights."
"We might need to light a fire under the British Admiralty too by the looks of it. The Home Fleet still hasn't moved a knot despite skimmers having already been spotted out over the English Channel," Dennis added.
Sage shook her head at that. "King Duncan's already on that actually. He just called his War Room to order. We will still need to watch the French Front closely though. It's… the phrase, 'wildly all over the place' fits best, at least in comparison to the others. It's almost as if whoever was in charge has just stopped controlling their troops."
The Fantastic Four looked at one another, a silent conversation taking moments, before they nodded as one, indicating without words that they understood why Harry was willing to break the team up as he had. While Reed was a decent fighter, he was an academic before he was a hero, and not at all a soldier. Killing an enemy might not come as easily to him on a true wartime battlefield. Johnny, in contrast, would have a much easier time dehumanizing his opponents in space, and had already proven he could be ruthless when using his powers in that setting. Thundra and Ben, wouldn't care one way or another what they faced. And lastly. while Sue had somewhat recovered from her pregnancy, there was a far cry between being able to suit up, and being combat ready.
"I'm good with that. Hell, maybe when all this is over, Thundra and I can stop over in Paris and have a bit of a date, eh? It's supposed to be super romantic, right?" Thing questioned, causing Thundra herself to scoff. Fighting a raging horde of aliens wasn't romantic enough?
"Hopefully it will be again after this war. They haven't knocked over the Eiffel Tower… yet… but the Arc de Triumph did get smashed by one of the giant fish things," Dennis answered, shaking his head sadly at what he saw as something near to sacrilege.
With a short growl, Harry brought everyone back on target to the then and now, pointing over to Laynia, the late Nikolai's sister, next. She had agreed to help once more, to help end the unasked for war as quickly as possible. "Dark Star, I want you up in space alongside the Human Torch and Polaris. Stephen, Clea, please help them up there too. Once she's dealt with whatever the invaders have that can control other people's minds, Jean will help you if you need backup. Don't overstay your welcome in China, Jean."
He then smiled mischievously. "That being said, if you happen to discover that the Chitauri or the telepathic whatever are attempting to take over any of the country's nuclear sites well then, feel free to… neutralize the threat in any way you deem necessary."
Jean smirked right back at him, nodding in agreement.
"Ororo, Hela, Danielle. You three, Fenrir, and Garm will have to hold the main enemy force in Afghanistan," Harry went on, turning to look at the two goddesses that were his mocha-skinned wife and his hopefully soon-to-be pale as Death wife. "But first—"
"—I will head to the US, then France, Hungary if need be, and then Russia. The teleportation spells I learned from my Lady Gaia will be invaluable in removing civilians from the combat zone," Ororo interrupted, smiling faintly as she too stood up.
"Thank you love," Harry responded, watching as she left the room ahead of the rest. Turning back to the others, he thought for a moment, pondering over the various forces involved. He would have preferred to send Fenrir or Garm in with Jean, but knew that they couldn't really be of any use anyplace with a civilian population. Both monstrously sized wolves exuded auras of fear to those who did not know them, and with everything already so chaotic in China, more fear was one thing that they didn't really need. It's quite ironic. Garm actually plays well with others, especially kids, and Fenris is surprisingly gentle as long as you don't get him angry. At least they can go wild in the mountains of Afghanistan as much as they like.
Catching his eye and breaking him from his thoughts, Hela smiled grimly, rubbing between Garm's ears. "We will do aught we can, my love. But if the Mad Titan does appear, even ones so doughty as we may be overmatched."
"You're only to hold the Chitauri until help arrives. Either me, Ororo, Jean, or one of the other Asgardians like Thor," Harry reminded her fiercely. "If Thanos himself shows up before we do, retreat as best you can. Immediately."
Skadi had already left at that point, silently as the Huntress she was. Harry would bet she'd already made it through the Rainbow Bridge to Asgard to request her people's aid as well. This kind of otherworldly assault was precisely the type that the alliance between himself and Lord Odin had been created to meet after all.
"Wait, if you're sending all of them to the main invasion point—and I'm not arguing with that—and the rest of us to Paris, Severomorsk, and Washington, doesn't that mean there's no one left for the city in the Balkans?" Scott asked, confusion at the seeming hole in Harry's stratagem.
Harry and Jean exchanged glances before looking over to Reed, who winced, knowing exactly what they were about to say. "Doctor Doom has created mutual defense treaties with many of his neighbors, including Hungary. He's already on the move. He must've been in the middle of something important when the reports of the invasion first came in, because he bluntly ordered us not to stick our noses in."
"Ah damn. I almost feel sorry for 'em. I mean, Doom's been acting all nice lately, so stands to reason that the guy has a lot of nasty saved up…" Ben murmured, then shook his head. "Wait. No, no. I don't feel sorry for the bastards at all."
Harry snorted at that, and the meeting continued, now turning to the nuts and bolts. Through it all, no one dared ask where Harry would be. Everyone knew that if Thanos was behind the invasion, the entire thing his Round Two as it were, Harry would finally be taking the Titan plunge himself, and facing his hardest battle yet.
OOOOOOO
As Dennis had reported, not all of the personnel from the various militaries that had allied with the Avalon Empire—or Harry Potter, the difference was slight but there—had been on board with actually working with the wizard or had taken the warnings the Empire had passed on seriously. As it happened, some of the French base commanders fell into this category; worse, one such was the base commander of Châteaudun Air Base, one of the many bases near Paris. Had he taken the warnings seriously, he would've had his people ready to react at a moment's notice to an occurrence such as the invasion. Instead, General Huntziger II hadn't even bothered sharing the warnings that had been passed to him from on high to his officers. As far as the soldiers of the base knew, whatever had been going on with the Wrecking Crew and their ally had no connection to any larger issue, and they had no need to worry once the nuisance had left their country.
Thankfully, the commanders at the Évreux-Fauville Air Base did not fall into the non-believer category. So while Châteaudun nearly drowned under the attack that came as a surprise to them, squadrons of French jet fighters and helicopters from Évreux-Fauville had risen to defend their nation in record time. The Rippers and Skimmers around Paris were met with unexpected force, leading Nebula's orders for the Skimmers to keep pressing outward from the city foolish in the extreme. Instead, the Super-Skrull had ordered them to destroy bridges and any military force they came upon in order to slow any land based military response.
Admiral Terrance Brighton, who had rotated into the command of the British Home Fleet, the largest British naval fleet and certainly the single largest naval force in the European theatre was also one such officer who looked down his nose at not just foreigners in general, but also amateurs like Harry Potter. He had gone along with the idea of working together with Potter and other nations up to that point because the King had agreed to do so, but now, when actual orders came down that would force him to sortie in support of the French fleet to guard the coastline across the Channel, he felt the need to misquote the words of a rather ridiculous and idiotic English World War I British officer.
"Bah, the French are not the sort I want to fight alongside, regardless of the circumstances, which all seem rather spurious to me anyway. This report about some terrorist attack in Paris is, no doubt, simply hogwash. I have yet to see any actual news of any attack coming out of the city. And regardless, I'm certain the French Armed Forces can at least defend their own borders," the man said with a sneer on his face, his overly-educated British drawal grating to the ears.
"Sir, there are no signals coming out of Paris. Nothing on the Internet, no phone calls, no nothing for the last fifteen minutes. While there are no reports per se, the lack of anything coming out of Paris and the fact that the French military have gone on red alert all across the board is telling enough that something is going on," Admiral Brighton's aide, a Captain Dwain Sawyer, shot back, tone stiff but respectful. Admiral Brighton had been Sawyer's mentor for years and was well worth his salt… even if he did have his head up his arse regarding anything even relating to working with any foreign powers.
"That's precisely the kind of thing local terrorists could've done," Brighton waved off Sawyer's words, the importance of them unable to penetrate the man's deep-seated biases. "No, I will not allow what could potentially be a non-issue to drive us into some kind of civil war over in France. There is no doubt some kind of rational explanation for the blackout. And besides, the problem's in Paris, Dwain! What in the world would the Royal Navy do if we did get involved beyond sit around with our thumbs up our arses?"
"But sir, we do have verified reports of alien aircraft sightings along the French coast. Reports, I might add, that stretch from Caen to the Port of Calais. From there it's only a short few minutes flight across to Dover," the very-much put-upon Sawyer protested. "That very much makes it an issue of self-defense too, correct?"
"And just where did these so-called aliens come from, hmm? If aliens could invade the capital of France so easily, why haven't they invaded London then? Or the rest of the world? And where would they have even come from? The Avalon Empire's been gobbling up large amounts of the industrial goods on the market and has heavily recruited among our personnel and the general population for a reason. If those arseholes still can't bloody well give us a heads up before the nasties have their boots on the ground, then what's the goddamn point of Potter and his so-called empire?"
Brighton snorted, very much wanting to continue on his well worn diatribe about how the Avalon Empire was a flash in the pan, and that Potter should've done the right thing and subsumed his holdings to that of the United Kingdom. He was one of those individuals who truly believed that the British Empire would rise again, and secretly loathed Potter almost as much as he detested the surrender-monkeys and Bosch. Brighton had just been better at hiding such beliefs than many others.
Fortunately, he hadn't done so perfectly, and his current direct superior, the First Lord of the Admiralty, had realized something was going on when the capital ships still in port hadn't set out within half an hour of the first reports coming in. As the general plan to defend the Isles and their allies had called upon. A plan that Brighton had signed off on and agreed to follow.
Thus, before the admiral could wax lyrical about his pet peeves once more to a truly captive audience, someone else decided to make their presence known. The door to the rest of the Admiralty House opened without fanfare and in walked the First Lord, Chester Blunderbuss, himself. He was a rail thin, elderly gentleman of Brighton's age who walked with a cane, his leg having taken some shrapnel when he was a mere yeoman on a frigate during WW2. It did nothing to lessen the weight of his bearing.
As he walked in, the First Lord was speaking over his shoulder to someone behind him, not even looking at Brighton as he entered the office without even announcing himself. "So as you can see, Admiral Brighton has become something of an obstruction. Still, I wanted you to hear his words for yourself."
Brighton scowled at his long-time rival among the Admiralty, and rose to his feet, ready to launch into angry tirade at the cocky man. However, whatever words he'd have said died on his lips as King Duncan walked in behind the older man. "We made promises Chester. We assured the French that our Home Fleet would be able to support them with long-range fire, that our troops stood ready to be delivered wherever they were needed. Is that not the case?"
While Sawyer tried to act the part of an unassuming piece of furniture, Brighton paled as Duncan stalked towards him. While he was new to the throne and hadn't quite pulled of a glare yet that could be called kingly, Duncan had been in the SAS for several years, and had the attitude, and medals, to show for it. The eyes of such a soldier were now locked onto Brighton as if the admiral was an enemy, and Duncan was deciding exactly which way to tear him apart. "You were informed of Emperor Potter's warning, Admiral. You were told to have the Home Fleet ready, in its entirety, and to start working on stratagems based on a need to defend other European countries as well as ourselves. Did you, in fact, write up such plans?"
"I—ye—yes my lord, but I…" Brighton stammered, paling as the seconds ticked by.
"Good. They will no doubt help now that we are faced with such a scenario. And has the Home Fleet been made ready to act?"
"M—my Lord, the expense of that…"
Glaring at his normally bombastic opponent, the First Lord spoke up, his words and tone a scalpel. "That would be a no, my Lord. We have two destroyer squadrons active in the Channel right now on maneuvers; each of four destroyers and ten frigates. The rest of the Home Fleet, however, is still docked in Scapa Flow. And none of our heavier capital ships have been made ready to set to sea at all. They can be made ready quickly, but not instantly."
"So, the readiness report that reached me over the past week or so have been falsified." Gone was any veneer of civility in Duncan's tone, his face having gone from stone to steel. Now, his voice was almost venomous as his glare pinned Brighton in place. "That, Admiral, would be treason in a time of war."
"I wouldn't go that far my Lord," the First Lord cautioned, smiling internally as Brighton, his rival for political power within the Admiralty, was most decidedly set up to lost his position. Whatever anyone said, militaries did have a certain political structure within them. People had to be willing to grease palms, scratch backs, and generally get along to go along—or whatever other euphemism anyone would care use—to truly gain rank. The two of them had been dueling it out for leadership in the Admiralty for some time, but now Brighton would be gone, and his Britain First policies completely demolished. "But I would say it is grounds for… dismissal."
"True enough, I suppose now isn't exactly the best time to truly make an example of this kind of foolishness "The important thing is that I want the Home Fleet, in full, sitting within the Channel as close to the French coast as we can get it. I don't care how we do it, I want us to either begin interdicting the invader's lines of reinforcement or, barring that, start drawing any of their forces we can out to sea. We cannot just let them dig in further or spread deeper inland."
Duncan pointed the finger of death—at least of careers—at Brighton, his face twisting into a snarl. "I expect your resignation on my desk within the hour, and you and all of your personal belongings out of this office within two." As Brighton stared at the finger like it was a rattlesnake that had just bitten him, Duncan addressed the other elderly man in the room. "Chester, you take command here. There's already reports of small flying vehicles moving across the Channel, and I will be damned if idiots like Brighton allow us to both be attacked on our own turf and turn our back on our allies at the same time. For now, the Air Force will need to provide our offensive punch."
The First Lord of the Admiralty made a huffing noise under his breath at that. "Your Majesty, you know that their proposal was to keep at least two-thirds of the fighter squadrons rotating above our own airspace for home defense, just in case we came under attack in a second wa—"
Duncan waved him to silence with an abrupt, almost violent slash of his hand through the air. "I told Harry Potter that the British military would be ready to both defend ourselves and support our allies in France. I told him we would be able to do so, come what may. If you and the Air Force make liars out of me I will have all of your heads! And we'll have to see if I mean that literally or figuratively later."
The First Lord grimaced, before nodding, gesturing for the heretofore silent Captain Sawyer over to him as Duncan, his demand made, turned for the door. "We'll get it done then, sire."
OOOOOOO
Thankfully, not everyone in the British military had their heads up their rear ends. Commodore Drew Nacey, of Destroyer Division Two of the Home Fleet stood to one side of the radar plot on his flagship, the Sheffield class Coventry, shaking his head. "They are how small?"
"Barely fifteen feet across sir, about a fourth of the size of our jets. But they're moving fast, pushing out from the French shoreline quickly… estimate Mach two maybe? It's really hard to tell."
"Numbers? And is there any chance that you're reading missiles or something similar?" the ship's captain, Ian Morgan, asked from the other side of the commodore.
"They're moving so fast and so wildly… and sir, there are more pushing out from the coast every minute. I… there's three hundred, maybe more within radar range right now? More outside of it…" In fact, to the radar specialist, his screen almost appeared like it was developing slow moving rash there were so many red icons marching across its. "Um… way more outside of it."
"And we can't hail anyone in Le Havre?" Commodore Nacey asked, looking over at the communications officer.
"No sir. The aliens seem to be carrying some kind of scrambler device with them. The more their flyers spread out, the worse it gets. I haven't had any luck punching through their net."
"Radar's going too!" the radar specialist shouted, getting a slight glare from the captain for speaking out of turn. Luckily for him, the older man's heart wasn't in it.
"Call the division to battle stations. Prepare to repel an aerial assault," Commodore Nacey ordered. Instantly, Captain Morgan had other things to worry about.
Across the Coventry, men rushed to their battle stations. The guns around the destroyerbegan to rotate in their mounts until they were pointing into the sky above the Channel.
Striding to the foremost windows of the bridge, Captain Morgan observed the horizon through his binoculars, waiting for the aliens to come into sight, thanking God that the aliens seemingly were just pushing out randomly in every direction from Paris rather than moving to Calais or Dunkirk to across at the Straits of Dover. Instead, they had followed the Seine into the Paris Basin of all things. It was bad news for the various cities located there, in particular Le Havre, but good news for the rest of France and the United Kingdom.
If they had first concentrated on France, and then moved across from Dunkirk or Calais after their sphere of control had swallowed them whole, at the speeds they'd displayed so far, the destroyers would have never been able to do much to stop them from reaching the Isles in numbers enough to swamp the defenders. AA would have done what they could, but I—
Morgan's thoughts broke off as the radio operator cursed. "Sir, we're losing long range! The field is just—just hashing out."
"Can our systems still lock onto individual targets?"
"Yes sir… but I'd recommend firing now sir, I can't say how badly that jamming of theirs is going to mess with targeting the closer it gets."
Nodding at the young officer's suggestion and reasoning, Morgan raised his voice and ordered, "Lock and load people, I want us through at least half of our Sea Darts before they get close."
The commodore, agreeing with this course of action, sent out an order to the other three destroyers in their formation to likewise begin firing their missiles. "Fire at will, but ceasefire when you can't auto-lock anymore. Once we each have five salvos between us, I want the whole formation to come about. We'll pull them further out to the Atlantic if we can. Keep the formation in AA mode."
This meant to keep the ships in closer to one another than normal, so each one could cover at least two of their fellows with their Oerlikon AA guns. This was not a normal battle formation for them, but the Commodore had been a captain during the Falklands War and knew that having multiple ships locked into the same anti-air umbrella was still as important in modern times as it had been back in WW2. Actually, this might be more like the battles in the Pacific than anything else if those things have to keep closing with us to reach their engagement range.
The Commodore's orders into the pickup were punctuated by the roar of missiles firing off towards the veritable swarm of enemy units barreling towards them. He watched from the Coventry'sbridge's as the first salvo soared into the sky and almost out of sight before hitting something that he couldn't see from his position.
"Hit! Splash one!" the tactical officer shouted.
"Split fire, let's see if we can knock these things down with single missiles," Morgan ordered, only to regret it moments later as the next salvo of single Sea Darts failed to take out a single one of their enemies. With a scowl he ordered the ship to go back to double tapping them, but by then it was too late. The enemy had gotten close enough to be seen with the naked eye.
While the commodore turned his focus to making certain that all of the ships in the formation stayed in position relative to the flagship—despite no longer having radar—Morgan raised his binoculars once more. Through them, he stared in consternation as the gathering dots in the distance grew in size.
The alien vehicles looked nothing so much like small, strange plates, with built-up areas at their bows, the center of their port and starboards, and possibly their sterns as well. It almost reminds me of a ready meal plate, or no… a children's plate. At the front of the built up segment at the bow of the 'plate' was the pilot, while in both flat zones along either wing was a gunner standing behind a futuristic gun on a pintle mount.
And they were fast! By the time Morgan had lowered his binoculars the distant plates he'd been watching were already within range of the ship's 4.5' Mark 8 naval guns. The destroyer's main guns opened up, blasting their might into the air. Manually aimed fire would've probably be next to useless at that point, given how fast the plates could move, but thanks to the dispersal rounds, which filled the sky with small ball bearings and flechettes, they still took something of a toll, knocking a few of the aliens out of the sky to crash with bone shattering force into the water below.
As the invaders closed, the defensive fire of the destroyers began to come into play, joining the offensive. Rotary cannons, the Oerlikons of the United Kingdom, whirred to life and began filling the air with bullets. These hailstorms of lead smashed into shields without mercy, eventually bringing them down through sheer overload.
"Can we use the Sea Darts at all at this range?" Morgan asked his tactical officer.
"Risky, sir. We can fire them sure, but this close, it's going to be a technicality away from blind firing," his weapons officer answered instead. "We might be able to program them to explode when they reach a certain height instead of impact, but again that would be a big 'might'."
Morgan grunted, then turned to his sensor specialist. "Exactly how many contacts were out there?"
"Um… before the radar went out entirely, I counted around eight hundred individual targets sir… more still to come," the younger officer answered weakly.
Without a word, the tactical officer stood up and left the room, rushing out to flag down the nearest seamen assigned to one of the missile launchers.
More of the strange alien craft, which almost looked to be skimming through the air the closer they got, went down, but then the first of the wave entered their own weapons' range, the distance of which both Nacey and Morgan noted. It was evident that they had a range advantage, although with how insanely mobile the skimmers were, it wasn't much of one. Worse, the alien weaponry as definitely energy based, something that caused both ranked officers to grimace.
Greenish bolts of energy flashed out from the skimmers toward the front of the formation. By the rate of fire, the alien weaponry seemed to operate on the same speed as a machine gun would, hammering out in a ceaseless deluge of automatic fire. There was no time to evade the rain of energy bolts. For all of their naval maneuverability, the destroyers and their frigate companions couldn't move laterally.
"All ships take evasive action—but keep in formation. Morgan, open up the speed, I want the whole command moving faster," Nacey ordered.
Just then, a gunny manning a machine gun on the Coventry's forward deck screamed as he was riddled with energy bolts. Then one of the Oerlikons exploded on the prow. Another explosion, this one at the rear deck, rocked the Justiniannearby, nearly hurling people on the bridge off their feet. Fire and debris choked the air. "Damage control get those flames under control!" Morgan shouted.
"Turn us about, we need to open the range more. All ships, make best efforts to open range however you may while remaining in formation," Commodore Nacey growled. More of the skimmers were falling now, the rate of fire if not its deadliness on the human's side.
But then the Hampshire, the Justinian's sister ship, lost forward momentum and began to list to the side; its bridge had been riddled by energy blasts. Like a group of vultures descending on a fresh kill, skimmers broke off from attacking other destroyers and frigates in the formation and focused on finishing off the Hampshire, silencing its guns one after another.
More than a dozen of their own were lost doing so, but soon, the Hampshire was completely dead in the water. And still worse, the aliens kept at it, immediately shifting targets to the horror of every officer who witnessed it. "Damn it, they're gunning down the crew trying to abandon ship!"
"All ships keep the fire hot! If they're going to kill defenseless men, make them pay for it!" Nacey ordered, his voice trenchant with fury and grief. "Fire by eye, blast it!"
More skimmers went down and for a few moments, the Hampshire was the center of the battle. Then, one of the skimmers dove down to just above water level, riddling the hull of the ship with energy blasts before swooping back up. Despite being far thicker than the armor protecting the weapon systems on the deck, the bolts still punched through the hull along the waterline, letting in water, and the ship quickly began to sink, joining its already butchered crew in the depths.
Grimacing, Commodore Nacey ordered the rest of the formation to begin a tactical retreat while still firing into the mass of skimmers above them. As more began to peel away from the sinking vessel, the fleet did its best to pull the destroyers away from the ever worsening disaster.
The destroyers had taken their toll at range, but once the skimmers had closed, the battle had turned against them. It's like fighting wasps with shields! No matter how hard we smack at them, we can only knock down so many at a time! And while we do, the others just swarm over us! I was wrong. This isn't like WW2 at all! Even when the IJN was at its strongest they couldn't throw around several thousand planes just to sink one destroyer division! Nacey had been counting as best he could amongst the chaos and knew that the enemy had completely refilled their numbers several times over. Worse, there were more coming in even now.
Thankfully, help was on its way. Even before William had begun to browbeat his officers into doing what they should've been the entire time, several squadrons of F-4K Phantoms had been ordered into the air. Now, as the destroyers continued to try and pull away from the endless waves of skimmers, the first Phantoms flashed towards them at Mach speed, locking on to the enemy.
"Now then, remember what our French counterparts found out the hard way. Two missiles per skimmer, and if we see any of the big uglies, we'll have to nail them with at least five if they have their shields up. Do not try to dogfight with those things, ladies. Gain altitude, pick a target area, and come down in strafing runs; but only when you can spot a target out of position for the others to render it aid. Now, weapons free, and let's send these arseholes to whatever hell will take 'em."
As the calm, commanding voice of the senior-most squadron commander finished speaking, almost on his heels came a far more boisterous shout from one of the younger pilots as he rocketed out of formation, pushing his plane well beyond the cruising speed the Phantoms had been flying at. "Tally Ho chaps! I have a lock! Firing!"
If the younger man hadn't already fired as fast as he had, the commander might well have chewed his ass out so hard it became legendary. Since he had, the older commander would let his young pilot get away with it. Boisterousness before the fight is better than grimness, I suppose. As if to follow the intrepid pilot's brazenness, several dozen missiles flashed out, heading out into the distance towards still more skimmers over the horizon.
When their ordinance began to strike, the Phantoms instantly began to turn the battle against the invaders once more. Seventeen of the advancing skimmers were knocked out instantly while others flailed, smashed backwards by the kinetic force erupting against their shields even if those shields had allowed them to survive.. Of course, then they still had to deal with fire coming up from the destroyers below.
The main 4.5 inchers in particular, firing at ridiculously point-blank range, were deadly. While the shields of the skimmers could probably have withstood thousands of Oerlikon rounds throughout a battle, a single shot from a destroyer's main gun was enough to knock them out of the sky in one blast.
And yet more missiles came streaking forward, knocking down still more skimmers. Amongst another round of explosions and dropping shrapnel and debris, the jet fighters reached within visual range of the destroyers. As they did, several of the men crewing the destroyers, who were on deck wielding machine guns, whooped and hollered as they saw their compatriots arrive.
Unfortunately, so too did more skimmers, as a shouted report informed Commodore Nacey. "Sir! Captain Jeffries of the Speedy reports more skimmers incoming, along with something much larger!"
Nacey scowled at the news, shaking his head as he scanned the damage reports coming in from his surviving ships. One of the frigates, the Daring, had stopped signaling a moment before, and even as he read its last communications, skimmers that had so far avoided being downed were descending on it to finish off its crew. Despite his rage at their losses, Nacey knew they couldn't stay in contact like this—they had to break away.
Just then, three of the jet fighters above them went down, coming too close to the writhing mass of skimmers, which had filled the air with green energy bolts. The power behind those bolts seared through fuselage, wing, and cockpit canopy with equal ease, all three pilots losing their lives, their planes exploding in midair.
"Commodore we are getting a hail. It's Commodore Blanche of the French First-rate frigate division five, on the Sorbonne."
Commodore Nacey took a moment to recall, and then recognized both the name of the other commodore and the name of the destroyer division as those that had been on patrol earlier that day near the entrance to the Channel. They only had four ships, rather than a full flotilla like he had, but those four were all destroyers,. Reaching forward, he grabbed the transceiver, speaking into it quickly. He relayed all the information his people had garnered throughout their battle. As he did, a series of explosions rippled across the destroyer Intrepid, and it instantly began to lose speed.
Even as more fire from portside came in over the horizon and hammered into the skimmers all around the destroyers, the Commodore knew that the battle was ultimately turning against them. He prepared to give the order for the rest of the formation to away, to abandon the Intrepid, when yet more help appeared.
Superpowered help.
From out of the sky zoomed in a man wearing an unidentifiable uniform. Never dropping his insane speeds, he crisscrossed through the battle sphere, smashing into—and then through—shields and skimmers alike. For as long as he kept moving, it seemed the man, a mutant perhaps, was nigh on invulnerable, and that invulnerability was allowing him to punch through the enemy like they weren't even there.
Reaching up to his helmet with one hand, the sudden interloper activated a comm of some sort, coming in over the radio. "This is Cannonball of the Custodes. I can help keep these things off of you for a bit, but they've got some bigger bruisers coming over from the shoreline. I recommend ya'll keep your distance."
"Roger that, Custodes Cannonball. Do you have any more information for us?"
"Ya'll fighting out here done pulled 'em in like a dog on ticks," Cannonball replied immediately. As was standard issue amongst the Custodes, Cannonball was constantly connected to their own communications network, one that was fed to-the-second information updates from Pinoptes as well as being more than capable of punching through the Chitauri jamming technology.
"The Chitauri—that's the name o' these nasties—have begun tah ignore targetin' civilie population centers around 'ere and'r concentratin' instead on military bases now thanks to ya'll and the Frenchies who're more inlan' when this shindig started. The Frenchies are not havin' a good time of it, for sure, but you and yours damn near pulled almost all the skimmers around, and even most of those big bruisers, away 'fore they could really start attackin' the cities 'long the coast."
"Good. Good… at least our men haven't been dying for nothing," Nacey muttered, suddenly feeling the weight of his dead landing on his shoulders.
"Don't never think that Commodore," Cannonball answered, trying hard to get his accent under control but failing as he continued to move through the battlefield, smashing into a skimmer every few seconds like a runaway… well… Cannonball. "Your actions out here have saved hundreds, maybe thousands of lives. Probably more."