The day had come.
After weeks of preparations and waiting, the order came.
The fleet departed Brooklyn Navy Yard, the sound of its engines loud, its wake churning the water into white froth.
They had left the port at night. The lights of New York were still extinguished, but the docks were alight with the glow of floodlights, from the compatriots staying behind to protect the city, and refugees, including Reese's group, gathering there with candles and flashlights, waving their arms, and shouting.
The Commander held Amy tight, again whispering to her, and Enterprise watched, a soft smile on her face.
When he put her down, the girl waved, and the Commander returned the gesture.
And then, away they go.
Admiral Roberts was calling the shots from aboard New Jersey, but Enterprise found herself assigned to Theodore Roosevelt alongside Hornet and Essex.
They were not carrying as many planes as a standard carrier could hold, not only because of what happened at Oceana but also because of the need to conserve their limited numbers.
Not operating at full strength meant that morale wasn't as high as it could have been, but there was a grim determination amongst the aviators.
The KANSENs, too, were determined to succeed.
Commander Halsey was on the same ship, but she hadn't seen him until that night.
When tomorrow came, he would be leading his squadron on the first mission, and the thought weighed on her.
The group huddled around the chaplain was certainly feeling the same. Heads were bowed, faces somber.
The Commander was watching but not joining in, but nobody seemed to mind him watching. When she walked up next to him, he didn't say anything, only nodding in acknowledgment.
She didn't know if he was religious or not, but something was certainly drawing him here to the impromptu night service in the galley.
The chaplain finished his prayers, but nobody was moving, only muttering amen.
Commander Halsey didn't, but he stayed.
A drum began to roll, and then a lone fife played.
"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord..."
The chaplain led the hymn, his voice firm.
She was familiar with the song and its subject, and she understood the meaning of its words.
Belief in something higher, something greater, and the willingness to fight and lay down your life for it.
Even now, when they were facing an enemy more powerful than any they had faced before, their belief remained steadfast.
The Commander soon joined, his voice softer but no less sincere.
Enterprise closed her eyes and listened to the words, to the voices, to the beating of her own heart.
"...His truth is marching on ..."
There was no doubt on her part that these people were ready to fight and die.
"He has sounded forth the trumpets that shall never call retreat."
They would give their all for the sake of their home.
No purer cause than this existed.
"He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat.
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet!"
Her hand slipped into the Commander's, and he responded by closing his grip.
The voices soon became quieter, slower—and the hymn will soon end.
But anyone who fought and believed and knew the meaning of the song would understand that this was the most important part.
"As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free.
While God is marching on."
The last chorus was the strongest, the loudest.
And the voices faded again.
"Amen," the chaplain whispered.
"Amen," everyone else repeated and dispersed.
The Commander didn't move, and neither did she.
She could feel his hands trembling, then calming down.
The chaplain's eyes found the Commander's, and he gave a knowing smile before walking off.
"This is it, Enterprise. We're done running."
Indeed, they were.
Now they will face the enemy, and maybe they could cripple them enough to turn the tide.
But at the back of her mind, she wondered if it would be that simple.
She wouldn't dwell on the thought now, not with him here.
"Yes, sir. Please...take care."
If not for her, for Amy, at least.
"I will. But don't worry. You'll see me again."
She smiled and squeezed his hand.
He was right.
"Yes, sir. I know."
And, just for a moment, she didn't let go.
***
The closer they got to the enemy, the worse the storm became. Sheets of rain hammered the deck, and the winds howled, rattling bulkheads and forcing crew members to brace themselves. Yet the ocean itself remained eerily still as if holding its breath.
Just like what she'd seen in Norfolk.
Enterprise adjusted her stance as another gust threatened to throw her off balance. Her rigging held firm, no longer straining under duress.
Hornet and Essex were already standing by on the flight deck, their eyes scanning the churning sky. VF-103 had scrambled, their F-14s streaking through the storm, their contrails cutting through the darkened clouds like the parting of the Red Sea. A Hawkeye had also taken off to serve as an airborne command center.
The Commander had yet to sortie, but soon enough, the signal would be given.
After all, it was only a matter of time before the enemy showed themselves.
And it didn't take long.
"General quarters, general quarters! All hands to battle stations!"
A chill ran down Enterprise's spine.
She didn't have to wait long to see them.
She and Hornet were ordered to support the VF-211, VF-31, and VF-102 as they took off to relieve the CAP. Once cleared, they leaped off the flight deck as fighters flew overhead.
The Commander was leading the Diamondbacks. The F-14s quickly formed into a staggered combat spread, with the Tomcatters and Flying Checkmates providing cover.
The Jolly Rogers had been struggling against the drones, and once the reinforcements were on the scene, another swarm burst into view like hungry locusts.
Cannon fire roared. Tracers lanced through the darkness. The air smelled of burning fuel and hot metal as the first drones were shredded in a hailstorm of 20mm rounds. Explosions flickered like fireflies in the storm, debris and smoke mixing with the rain.
Hornet launched her first wave of Hellcats, their engines roaring as they climbed into the fray.
"Damn, there's a lot of them," Hornet growled. "They are clumsy, but there's no end to them."
"I know, but we'll break through," Enterprise assured her just as a missile set off a chain of explosions in the swarm, and she had to dodge a beam.
The drones and whatever logic circuits dictated their actions were certainly no match for the ingenuity of hardened human pilots and their tactical maneuvers, but the advantage in numbers and the turbulent weather meant that the squadrons would eventually lose fighters quickly.
For each one shot, seemingly three more would emerge.
And that was no exaggeration.
There was something very wrong about this.
"Shit, incoming hostiles!"
Hornet was the first to detect their presence—black ships that emerged from the gloom like ghosts, their hulls slick and void-like, as if devouring the very light around them. The red slits along their sides glowed malevolently, casting eerie reflections across the water. They were small—frigate-sized, maybe destroyers—but their presence felt wrong, a distortion in the ocean itself.
Enterprise could sense their hostility, a malevolence so thick it was suffocating—and then, the first one fired.
A beam of crimson energy ripped through the sky, carving straight through a formation of F-14s. Four planes disintegrated instantly, their pilots' final screams lost to static before the radio cut off, and debris and shrapnel fell like rain. There was frantic chatter that seemed like orders, but they were too distorted and chaotic for Enterprise to understand. She clenched her teeth, her grip on her bow tightening, and she fought back.
The Jolly Rogers didn't hesitate—they opened fire with everything they had, but their rounds sparked harmlessly off the enemy hulls. Only the heavier missiles seemed to do any damage.
A thunderous roar split the air as Harpoons from New Jersey streaked toward their targets. Explosions ripped through the enemy ranks, sending plumes of fire and seawater skyward. One black ship cracked in half into a twisted mess of burning metal. The hull didn't sink like a normal ship would. Instead, it seemed to simply dissolve into the ocean, the water frothing around the remains. Some missed the targets, buffeted off course by the wind shear.
But the remaining ships were unrelenting, their beams carving the sky. But the fighters were readier this time, and the element of surprise was gone; the black ships couldn't score any easy kills.
Hornet launched her trump card, the B-25s, their bombs raining down on the vessels, dealing some significant damage, and Enterprise sent another airstrike with the Skyraiders Yorktown had lent her.
It only served to cover the retreat of the Diamondbacks and the Tomcatters, though, and the Jolly Rogers weren't far behind.
The Checkmates had stayed to cover their retreat, but a salvo from the black vessels sent a few of them plummeting below in balls of fire.
The Hawkeye had been shot down, too, its flaming carcass spinning out of control before smashing into the waves.
Some managed to eject, and curiously, the enemy ships didn't pursue them.
Enterprise frowned, watching as the survivors struggled against the winds and rain.
But she didn't have the time to wonder about it.
She took one last shot, her arrow piercing the already-crippled remains of a black ship. The gash revealed something that resembled a pulsating brain before the vessel went below the surface, letting out an unnatural groan as it dissolved into the depths.
Then she turned and sailed away.
***
It was immensely relieving to find the Commander safe, and she had to restrain herself from throwing her arms around him.
He was clearly affected, however.
His helmet was still on, and his knuckles were white. His hands were curled tightly around his armrests, and his RIO was silent.
The luckier ones, who managed to bail out in time, were picked up by the SAR helicopters, and some suffered burns bad enough to put them out of action for a while.
"Sir...I'm sorry. I...I should've..."
"Don't blame yourself, Enterprise. These men...they knew the risks. They're heroes. That's why...we will win this war. For them."
His voice was a low growl, but there was a quiet strength to it. A quiet fury.
"Yes, sir."
That didn't stop the guilt.
The fleet was now positioned in the middle of the Atlantic, and the bulk of the enemy's own had yet to advance past Greenland.
So far, none of the surface fleet had been damaged, but knowing the capabilities of the enemy strike force, a change of tactics was necessary.
The USAF had informed them that it could provide airstrikes when needed, especially if Thule and Keflavik still stood, but no contact could be made with them so far. If such strikes were to be made, it'd likely be from Griffiss or Plattsburgh.
Admiral Roberts had called for a meeting of all captains and commanding officers, and the rest were left waiting.
Waiting and wondering.
"Hey, are you ok?" Essex asked.
"I'm...not sure."
"We're all in this together. Don't forget that," Hornet reminded.
"Yes, but...if I hadn't—"
"Stop blaming yourself. We're not gonna win a war like that," Essex chided. "Uh, sorry...It's just..."
"No, you're right," Enterprise sighed.
"Don't worry, we'll get the bastards. They'll pay for what they did to our people."
"....Yeah. Um, excuse me...I need to think."
"We'll catch you later, then," Hornet waved.
Enterprise nodded and walked away.
She could still hear the cheers and shouts of the people as they departed the port, the smiles on their faces.
She could still remember the warmth of his hand and its strength.
She could still hear the hymn he had joined in.
The faces of people who had been kind to them when they were at their weakest.
She paused to lean on the wall, her gaze fixed on the floor.
This was no ordinary war, one waged by no ordinary enemies.
They had called her an anomaly. An aberration.
They could have finished her if they wanted to, but they didn't.
But why?
Why was she alive and breathing while those pilots and the brave souls at Norfolk lay cold on the ground?
The answers eluded her.
Why hadn't the drones turned America into a wasteland?
And that woman on the Schuylkill—why didn't she act when they locked eyes?
Something was very wrong here.
Enterprise closed her eyes and breathed.
Whatever the answers were,
they were probably on that massive leviathan.