Regele of the seas

The waves danced up and down the shore in the distance, clouds ever so sparsely aligned in the sky cast the Sun’s rays in different beams. These beams descended from the heavens and bounced off the water like a rough mirror which then shimmered on the melting mountains in the background. Had it been any other day, in any other decade, the sight would have made captain Donetscu smile in awe, today nearing the idea of May however, there was no happiness, only the cold stares and calculations that proved Him and his crew’s diligence to maintaining the route. The year was 1944, Romano-German forces had been trapped, first in Crimea, and then squeezed into the port of Sevastopol, where the outgunned, outplanned, but not out maneuvered RRN was working around the clock to get as many German, Italian, and Romanian forces out the Crimea as possible.

Donetscu was particularly proud of his ship and her position, flagship of the navy, most powerful axis surface combatant in the Black Sea, The Regele Ferdinand. For 3 years the Soviets had hunted her, for 3 years she escaped, often right under The Soviet fleet’s nose. She had undergone extensive refits since 1941 in order to fufill her destroyer leader role seriously. All but her Midship turret was double gunned, her torpedoes were modernized, new engines installed, and most importantly, A dual battery of Flak 36’s to replace her aging 76mm AA. She was a ship to be reckoned with. Off to his port side, Donetscu spotted the Destroyer escort/Minelayer , Amiral Mirgescu and cracked a smile, he knew his best friend Ian Petelo was on the bridge of that ship right now. Leading her alongside the Regele, ready to repel any Soviet submarine attacks. Donetscu eased back into his seat and prepared to confirm coordinates with The Mirgescu when his chief radar officer yelled over the pipelines in a desperate cry that caught the whole bridge crew’s attention, “Soviet planes! Hundreds of them!”.

Donetscu’s heart skipped a beat, he collected himself and barked back “Well what are you standing there for? Get the crew on full alert!” He turned to his Midshipman, “I need you to get a message to the Sevastopol defences, let them know we are under attack.” Turning once again to his front he ordered the man to get a message through to the Mirgescu and have them ready their guns.

A single bead of sweat dripped down His face. So this was it, no more running, no more hiding, the Soviets had caught her at last. But like a caged beast, Donetscu would make sure they would remember the claw marks his ship, no, his nation’s ship had given them.

Reaching for the voice tubes in front of him he shouted to anyone who could hear on board. “TRAIESC, LUNG REGATUL ROMANESC!”

A cry of “Da!” Was heard clanging around the ship until all became eerily still. Donetscu peered at the Mirgescu, a mear 300m away and could make out the sounds of shouting and the rotating of guns as the Amiral Mirgescu brought her modest AA to bear.

The once charming sky and beams of golden sun gave way to the silence of a forest meadow, for an hour they waited there, never once backing down, never once leaving the viligance of their posts, not a man among them had a single fear. That was,until it happened.

The clouds among the sky exploded in a fury only akin to a wildfire as a hornet’s nest was unleashed upon the tranquil seas that afternoon, the afternoon where hell broke loose. The day where, for all he knew, Donetscu would give his life.

The first wave descended upon the duo at ludicrous speeds, with the way their silhouettes darkened the sky he could only guess these were the Naval bombers, nasty beasts with a single 500kilo each.

Donetscu bit his lip as they descended he could see them now, locking eyes with a pilot he could see the adrenaline is his eyes, right before his plane was turned into a flaming pile of metal and wood. Several more followed him as a separate Hell unleashed it’s fury of 20mm, 30mm 76mm, MG, and 88mm wrath upon the descending bombers.

It was as if two versions of Hell, both as loud and death filled as the other had met each other in mortal combat. Dealing and destroying as they traded blow for blow.

As the last of the Soviet bombers pulled off Donetscu cracked a grin, Not a single bomb had come even close, the Soviets were retreating with their tails between their legs and thirteen of their own would not be joining them. He almost laughed and celebrated until one of his offcicers froze in shock, out the window of the bridge, Donetscu could see 60 Soviet ground attackers armed to the teeth with rockets approaching the ship at a rapidly increasing pace.

He panicked further when an unexplained light engulfed the Mirgescu and expanded. Mistaking it for the explosion of the ship and it’s crew he almost cried right then and there, almost, because the same light engulfed him too and soon there was nothing left of the two tin cans.

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Gorbysysky was closing in, the bombers had failed to do the job as expected but now they were behind them. He laughed, those damned fascists would pay for invading his land, for burning his village.

Sweet, Sweet revenge he thought as he neared the smaller of the two ships, it wasn’t their target but it was Rumanian fascist filth anyway and it needed removing too. His finger sliding into place on the fire button he almost didn’t notice the blinding white light that emanated from the water in front of the ship, that was, until the ship he was aiming at ceased to exist.

His jaw firmly unhinged, Gorbysysky immediately pulled up and off of the attack and climbed back into formation before any fascist fighters could be scrambled.
There was silence the whole flight back. Boy are we gonna have a story to tell tonight he absentmindedly thought.

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Ian Petelo groaned as he slowly rose to his feet, checking his surroundings he noted the unconsciousness of his crew, the fact he was still on the ship (which was a huge relief) and also how NOT filled with Soviet aircraft the sky was. Leaning over to his starboard window he confirmed the presence of a seeemingly unharmed [Regele Ferdinand /i] and let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. Looking back out to port however, put the breath right back into his throat.

Out the window, less than a few kilometers away was a sprawling American esque City, and that’s not all, oh no, there was a flying horse knocking on the glass in front of him.

Ian Petelo, seasoned captain he was, promptly fainted on the spot.