Editing Tytania:Volume 3 Chapter 3 (section)

=== IV ===
Duke Ariabert Tytania stood upon the bridge of the flagship, the ''Golden Sheep'', his tall frame enveloped in a grey military uniform. A pleasant tension rested upon his handsome features. His eyes cast sharp glares toward the main screen ahead, where images, numerical data, and diagrams were cycling rapidly.

“Duke, it appears we have found the princess we were seeking.”

Ignoring Rear-admiral Paulsen’s cheerful voice, Ariabert walked towards the captain’s seat. Captain Chen Ruofan did not bother with a salute. He was a man who had earned a fixed reputation among Tytania’s officers for both his competence and his brusqueness. He was thirty-nine years old, with twenty-five years of military service and dozens of medals to his name. It was he who provided the report in a somewhat clinical voice.

“There is certainly a thermal signature, but distinguishing friend from foe is impossible at the moment.”

“Very well, no need to rush. Proceed at a slow speed and continue the pursuit. Do not break formation.”

Ariabert rested a hand against his well-defined jaw and thought for a brief moment before reaching a decision. He ordered that the entire fleet be notified via standard communications that an enemy had been detected and was being pursued.

To put it bluntly, Tytania did not care even if their communications were intercepted. The content of the transmissions themselves could be used as a psychological weapon against the enemy. Furthermore, by analysing the enemy’s reaction, it should have become easier to formulate countermeasures at the tactical level in the future.

Communication waves darted through the high pressure of the deep sea. They travelled above the surface as well, and the detachment waiting at low altitude began to move, looking down upon the surging waves.

An enemy reaction appeared. It was so direct that even Ariabert was caught off guard. One of the reconnaissance officers raised his voice while pressing his headphones against his ears with both hands.

“Solid objects, rapid approach! Bearing one-zero-three-zero, number of targets: six!”

“Ascend, evade.”

Captain Chen issued his orders with an air of displeasure. In this instance, evasion was merely a means to buy the time necessary to prepare for interception; he had no intention of fleeing indefinitely. The fleet began a gradual ascent. It became clear that the rapidly approaching solid objects were self-propelled metallic bodies. The relative speed between the two parties shifted moment by moment in accordance with their manoeuvres. And their absolute positions changed as well. They appeared to be residual-energy-tracking missiles.

In a somewhat farcical turn of events, the fact that the Tytania forces were moving in a high-density formation caused the missiles’ guidance systems to falter. The systems hesitated, unable to decide which of the multiple released energy signatures to prioritise for tracking. While there is no luxury for hesitation in the vacuum of space, the three-magnitude difference in velocity within the ocean led to the ridiculous situation of machines experiencing indecision.

“Use ultra-low frequency missiles!”

Captain Chen’s instructions were pithy and laconic. There was a sense that this capable Tytania officer considered uttering superfluous dialogue to be a waste of energy.

His colleagues often remarked that “his dictionary contains nothing but subjects and objects.” The reason he had ordered an aggressive interception was the fear that, should the enemy missiles self-destruct after their moment of indecision, the resulting fragmentation pattern would cause damage to the fleet due to their dense formation.

By the standards of space combat, during the absurdly slow forty seconds that followed, the Tytania fleet increased the distance between its ships and launched an equal number of missiles against the six incoming enemy projectiles. Twenty seconds later, the two sides met, and explosions erupted.

Millions of tons of sediment erupted from the seabed. Struggling against the deep-sea pressure, it ascended towards the surface with a strange, sluggish momentum. As it rose, displacing the surrounding seawater, the trillions of tons of dark liquid swayed with a heavy, reluctant motion. Each ship drifted through the water, buffeted by this ponderous oscillation. The surrounding temperature rose, and the seawater pressed layers of mud and sand against the hulls of the vessels.

“It’s like an undersea volcanic eruption,” lamented a non-commissioned officer.

Another NCO raised his voice:

“Reminds me of my wife. When she’s angry, she stops speaking to me, but her breath alone can blow things away.”

Captain Chen ignored the conversation, which was clearly intended to bolster their own spirits. Some among the crew knew that his wife was also a Tytania officer, a commodore who had graduated from both the military academy and the graduate military college.

Ariabert clicked his tongue inwardly. It was a gloomy battle, at least up until this point. From the very start, this Bargash expedition had seemed to lack any elements of excitement. It felt less like the duty of a warrior and more like that of a hunter; less like combat and more like a peacekeeping operation. Nevertheless, Ariabert had located the enemy and was beginning to corner them.

“The moment they breach the surface, fire a volley with the charged particle beam cannons.”

Ariabert readjusted himself in his command seat and took a coffee cup from the tray presented by a female NCO.

“That might just be the end of it. I shouldn’t be too optimistic, but…”

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