Fire at will.

It was a simple plan, but machinery with few moving parts rarely broke.

Especially given the inexperience of both squad and commander, there was no need to get fancy. Sunder and Fortuna swung out wide to one side, while Ace of Spades and Jaeger took the other.

Trying to box in the enemy ****, and using torpedo racks to further bracket the Alliance destroyers.

Don’t bother trying to hit such fast-movers. Just keep them on a straight-line course...

An extra effort and expenditure of ammo was hardly needed. The enemy’s smokestacks belched flames as they picked up speed and continued to harass the limping, burning bulk of what looked like another Imperial heavy cruiser.

Sovereign’s steel, wood, and superstructure were all outlined in rampaging flames. It probably made the topside damage look worse than it actually was, for the steel armor belt beneath was barely dented by small-caliber cannonfire. Her own deck guns were giving it right back, and struck something important on the lead Alliance ship, setting a small blaze in return on her blue-steel hull.

The enemy was fixated on Sovereign and inflicting punishment there.

Excellent.

Intervention kept silent, slowly drawing a bead on the distant destroyers, waiting for them to enter her considerable range.

Her two forward-mounted triple-barrel turrets reached for the sky, extending to their maximum upwards elevation. They gleamed in the dim sunlight peeking in rays through stormy clouds. Polished, unused, and hungry.

These weapons were part of the reason her design was condemned; battleship-class guns on a cruiser. They said that Intervention would shake herself apart under the power of her heavy artillery, and now was the time to prove them all dead wrong.

At this range, battle wasn’t some hot-blooded affair. Intervention knew it well; it was just solving math problems, with spectacular results for quick and sure calculation. The stakes were higher than in any classroom, but so was the quiet, confident thrill of placing high-explosive ordinance on target.

Plus, this spectacle was entertaining enough.

Shots crisscrossing through the air, tracer rounds and small-bore shells bursting overhead, or plunging harmlessly into the water. It was a dramatic display of effort, but to little effect from either party. Likely why this pursuit may have lasted quite a while before stumbling on the Forty-Sevens.

It was like Sovereign was trying to miss.

Granted, the little Alliance destroyers weaved and bobbed in and out. In predictable fashion, from Intervention's distant perch.

Walking right into her web.

“Shot.”

An unnecessary remark. The booming roar of heavy artillery was its own herald. The noise thundered across the ocean waves certainly, much as it echoed inside of Intervention’s own shivering bridge. The deck leapt, ocean waves splashed outwards from the **** of the blast and the subsequent suction of air and water around the hull.

She bobbed in the water, and something metal deep within her groaned.

Yet, she held. Which was more than could be said for the Admiral.

Kotone felt the shockwave travel straight through to her bones and chattering teeth. She grabbed the most steady thing around, which turned out to be Intervention herself. Who, despite her spectacular and alluring softness, was steady as a stone in the storm.

Six shells, each the size of the Admiral’s car, rocketed skywards, parabolic trajectories rising high into that stormy sky.

It wasn’t like land war, where one heard the whistling shells.

They had so far to travel, and took such an arc, that by the end, the six messengers were free-falling directly down, plunging like tiny dive-bombers. Not hitting relatively thick side armor, but instead the mostly-wooden deck.

Fore and aft, a plume of boiling water and superheated steam leapt skywards.

Between them, the first Alliance destroyer bloomed like a metal flower.

Four explosions walked down her length, setting off fuel and ammo storage. On such a small vessel, there was **** but to store it lightly-armored, and **** to just such plunging fire. If there was a crew, they’d have sustained catastrophic losses instantly.

As it was, it wasn’t possible to tell when the fleet girl met her end.

Kotone clasped her hands together, and prayed it was instantly at the hands of those explosions. Rather than the oil-fed fires that came, as the ship broke in half, and both parts were quickly claimed by the sea.

Intervention smirked. “One down, re-targeting.”

This time, the forward turrets locked on to different enemies, using that first shot and radar returns to find ranges. It was clear the full bulk of her firepower was overkill, and even one single well-placed shell could cripple or destroy such fodder.

However, in the considerable span of seconds it took for the second salvo to travel, all three enemy ships had recovered from their shock and bloody tunnel-vision, and turned hard to either side.

The only thing Intervention’s next round of shots hit was rolling waves.

“Not bad, they’re running. Over.” Ace of Spades was just as impressed by the red-orange fireworks as the enemy, and even her normally-emotionless voice was filled with gentle satisfaction. Until she saw that the enemy wasn’t scattering, but converging again.

At her.

“Uh oh. Over.”

Kotone slapped her forehead. “First-week tactics question. What do you do when under artillery fire, Intervention?”

“Dig a great big hole,” the lethal maid replied without missing a beat. “Failing that, charge their positions at full speed, and **** their gunners to choose between shelling both, or neither.”

It was an impressive reaction, and spoke to the berserker fury of this rabble.

Killing one of their friends might have had something to do with it, too.

The destroyers had been pecking at each other with their small-bore deck guns, but little could be accomplished with those at range. As they drew closer, they would grow more lethal, until a savage knife-fight could ensue. One far too dangerous to fire into from so far back.

Sovereign herself was steaming out of engagement at maximum speed, glad to finally make up some distance from her pursuers and heedless of the brewing crisis. Possibly, damaged more severely than it appeared.

Neither of the cruisers were going to be much help against this offensive.

“Blue, get ready to fend them off. Red, move to assist.” Kotone didn’t have to glance at the map to know that might be too late. The whole point of the plan was to split into two groups and surround the battle zone. Fortuna and Sunder would be a long way out, and Intervention’s intercepting shots, despite her best efforts to predict, fell long or short each time.

She wasn’t made to shoot at small things anyhow, goddammit.

“Hold your fire,” Kotone said, but Intervention had already secured her guns and returned their position to one level with the unsteady lines of the ocean.

And, the admiral didn’t fail to notice, hit the throttle to full power.

Intervention huffed.

“Nothing to do but hope those two paid attention to my lessons.”