Each Predator drone that’s coming out is actually slightly larger than a legit Predator. The profile’s roughly the same, but these are more angular, the wings are swept back, and I think I’m hearing jet engines.

Oreo’s on the flight deck in full dragon form. He and Sam are getting ready to take off.

I get that it’s probably a demon ship, but what’s bothering me is that demons don’t fucking have aircraft carriers, which should be obvious, but also that the drones are fanning out instead of flying in formation to intercept us.

Hm? What’s this tingly sensation?

{Wait, Sam! There’s something weird going on, don’t go yet!}

Sam’s mouth is moving but I can’t hear her. Fuckin’ Oreo is screaming in dragon form.

Ah, she punched his head into the deck. I haven’t seen that in a while.

“Sir Grey! What is your assessment? Make it quickly, as we will most likely live or die by it!”

Wew. No pressure.

—Turn … guns … west … enemy.

The fuck, am I hearing voices? Am I finally losing it? Oh boy, losing it right before I die, huh. That’s a first. At least it’s an angelic voice…

— … compliment … but … enemy first.

I definitely heard that. There’s nothing showing up on the on-board comms, though, so it’s not radio. That only leaves…

{… Hey, so, Sam, I think aircraft carriers have some sort of telepathic aircraft carrier network.}

“Sir Grey, I am at a loss as to what any of those words mean by themselves, and less so all together.”

{Uhhh might be easier to say that that ship’s a… whatsitcalled—spirit ship!}

Sam strikes a pose and steps back, aghast.

“Another one?!”

— … will become … spirit yourself … if … don’t … enemy!

Ahhh, right, right, sorry about that.

— … finally …

{Uhh, she says there’s an enemy to the west.}

“I don’t understand. The enemies are the entire arc from north to south. Also, ‘she’?”

{I-it’s the voice I hear. Sounds like she’s talking about a single enemy in particular.}

“How do we know we can trust her?”

{… aircraft carrier’s instinct?}

“Sir Grey, I would like to know what that is, but, alas, I will go ahead and defer my life and the future of the Kingdom of Merika to you.”

I get it, princess. No pressure at all.

{Thank you for trusting me, when I find it hard to trust myself.}

“Sir Grey, please don’t tempt me to change my mind.”

{Al~right, let’s gooo, changing course—}

Just then the ocean beside me crashes, boiles, flash-vaporizes—turning to mist with an ear-shattering shockwave with a volume so loud that I don’t think anyone could’ve heard it anymore. Sam and Oreo are nearly blown off the deck, while I feel myself tilting to one side, being sucked in by the torrent caused by the water rushing to fill the hemispherical void in the sea.

In short—someone missed their one fucking shot to nuke me, and I’m about to put up a fight, ye fucker.

I’m still spinning my rudders at full, fighting against the vacuum-induced current. We’re just barely lucky that the nuke landed just a bit farther away, or else I would’ve gotten swallowed up by the current.

Come to think of it, it was a regular tac nuke, wasn’t it? Our magic ones flash blue, but this one’s colored hell-on-earth.

I’m a little bit concerned about the cancer ray burst hitting my crew still outside, but there’s magic n’ shit, so maybe there’s anti-radiation magic or something? Does healing magic cover radiation sickness? We’ll find out, I guess.

Of course, I’m not just thinking about life and waiting to escape the current. Thinking about how the guy fucking missed by literal miles (the fucking noob), I’ve got a good guess on the range and direction of the guy.

He’s not showing up on my radar, so it’s good to assume he’s got some stealth coating like the girl over there, who’s somehow still launching Predator drones. Looks like she’s staving off the bulk of the demon wave.

But air superiority Predator drones, huh? Maybe it’s better to call them Eagles? Hawks? Falcons?

Anyway, I fire off one of my railgun nukes. I’ve only got 10 left—well, nine, now—but I need to force the guy to rethink his life. Even if I miss, it’ll at least let him know that I know where he is.

“Sir Grey! By that shot, I take it you know where the enemy is?”

Sam and Oreo are reeling on the flight deck, but they’re alive.

{I’ve got a good guess, but I’ve only got it narrowed down to a couple of grid squares. I don’t have enough nukes to just hope that I get him in one shot, either.}

“Then, we’ll be off.”

Sam gets on Oreo, who roars. I mean, if I were a dragon, I’d probably do that, too.

… Hol’ up.

{Hey, wait! You’re gonna go through all of that?}

The demon wave’s still alive and kicking, even if we basically annihilated about half of it by now. It kinda helped that as they got closer, they started bunching up, so the nukes started becoming more effective. Our new friend’s air superiority drones also kept the demons occupied, but that only means that there’s fuckin’ lasers just shooting off in the distance. For real, it’s a disco out there. Thank God for atmospheric dissipation.

Sam’s thinking on it. Hopefully.

“If Sir Grey’s artillery cannot destroy what I can only assume to be the enemy commander, then we will die here. I must take it upon mineself to properly defeat the enemy commander.”

{But you can’t even make it through that, can you? I don’t think the wyvern riders are up to support you, either. Even if you make it through, we don’t even know what the OPFOR looks like!}

Sam cups her chin, and she does just that for a while. She’s still sitting on Oreo’s back, and he looks real bored.

Sam snaps her fingers.

“Aureos, we will be doing that.”

“Princess, forgive me, but we have practiced many secret maneuvers.”

“I am obviously referring to That #32.”

Have you ever seen a dragon that’s buffering? I’m looking at one right now. His neck looks really long right now, and he’s just sitting on the flight deck like a cat while the horizon’s still filled with stray laser shots. Of course, I fire off another nuke just to remind the noob-over-the-horizon that I haven’t forgotten about him. The current’s also long gone, so I’m out and moving about.

Finally, Oreo snaps up and faces Sam with a worried look.

“P-princess! You can’t possibly survive That #32!”

“Fear not, for I have compelled Marge to produce the necessary equipment.”

Have you ever seen a hot warrior princess in full knight armor, but with an oxygen tank? I’m not sure if it’s Sam or Marge that’s amazing for coming up with this—but in the first place, why?

“Then, Sir Grey, please remember that blue is too far, and green is too close, and red is on the mark.”

Before I get the chance to ask what her plan was, she and Oreo fly away, leaving me with that riddle.

Ah wait, they’re actually flying straight up?

… Hey, that’s really far, will they be okay? Sam has magic and an oxygen tank, but will Oreo be okay? Don’t dragons need to breathe, too?

After a while, I see a blue fireball fall from the sky like a comet, landing somewhere in the horizon. It’s a little bit to the right of where I last fired, I notice.

… Ah, she’s being the spotter. I wonder what she’s seeing, though.

She said blue is “too far,” but it’s not like we have a shared reference right now. Maybe she just wants to say that it’s ridiculously far right now? I might as well assume that it’s at the same range as I thought it was a while ago.

I fire off another rail nuke. Good thing the railgun’s shots travel really fast, unlike the Margic Cannon, so I only had to wait for a minute before I see another of Oreo’s fireballs streak down. It’s moved left this time, and it’s blue.

So I fired too far, huh?

If I had to guess—let’s pretend it’s moving at 30 knots southeast. If my rail nuke takes a minute to get there, then it would’ve moved half a nautical mile by the time my shot lands.

Alright, I just have to nudge it a little bit to get a smack-dab-center hit. Even if I don’t, it’s still in the blast radius, so there’s no problem.

I fire off another shot. At the same time, a hemisphere of ocean behind me disappears. It’s a bit far this time, so I got a good look at its blast radius. It’d definitely eat up 10 of me if one go.

I’m far enough away that the resulting vacuum doesn’t draw me in. Goodlordinchrist, it’s still scary, though.

Oreo’s fireball clues me in again. There’s a red streak. I shot too low, but the direction’s correct. I think I overestimated the speed.

I’m also guessing that he’s moving in a zig-zag pattern, so let’s go with 20 knots east-northeast.

Nuke away!

At the same time, the ocean in front of me vaporizes this time. It’s too fucking close. The steam’s killed visibility, so I’m not sure if I can see Oreo’s signal this time. The mist also made the distant disco look like a nightclub. What a fucked-up party, huh?

Hm? Red? Do I see red?

A’ight, firing for effect, I guess.

I’ve got 5 tac nukes left, and I fire them in quick succession. I make sure to blanket the grid square so the fucker has nowhere to run.

After about five minutes, the demon wave loses cohesion. They used to move in a rough formation, but now they’re defaulted to some sort of aimless travel and attacking things on-sight. Sam and Oreo’s silhouette grow larger, and they land on the deck.

Oreo turns to human form, promptly collapsing in Sam’s arms. She hoists him over her shoulder and makes for a light jog into the command tower.

{Sam! Is Oreo okay?}

“Fear not. He will recover after the day. More importantly, the enemy is defeated. I will address everyone in the Operations Room after depositing Aureos in the triage bay.”

***

The fight died down after a while. I tried to pull up beside the new kid in the block while Sam and the commanders were having their meeting, but…

— … sorry … see you soon …

That’s all I got from my newfound aircraft carrier telepathy network, then she disappeared.

I’m just a little bit disappointed, really. I just wanna be friends with a fellow aircraft carrier—why’s it so hard?