The New World

[Augustus Longeye]

Barum had met up with a much larger ship and a few engineers had immediately spotted his problem and swung over to fix it. There was panicked scrabbling and more than a little swearing, but eventually it was done. As he was about to pull away, ten crewmen also swung over and took up positions by the cannons.
"What are you lot doing?" Barum shouted.
"We've been given orders to follow you Captain, as a representative of one of the guys with powers you're to be obeyed until he gets back!" one of the men said, snapping of a tidy salute.
"Right, fair enough... first things first no bloody saluting here, get to work! We're going back in right away and I want those guns picking ships out of the air like flies! Two of you grab some rifles and watch the skies for those damned gliders, they're going to cause us no end of problems.
He looked around and noticed something was absent. The battle was raging, though both sides were slowing somewhat... but there was something mi-
The mountain had vanished! It had collapsed under itself and Barum couldn't see anything earth related going on. Julius must be down, there was no way he wouldn't be doing something at a time like this. A quick search of the battle showed no sign of him, and reluctantly Barum returned to the fight. He'd do something about Julius later, right now he couldn't do anything except help to win the fight.

[YetAnotherMatt]

A slight cough came over the communications channel. "All elements, all elements, this is USAS Hammer." Captain Skarssen was calm, but tired. Lyrren knew that the captain hadn't slept in nearly 36 hours. "All ships are to begin a fighting withdrawal to phase line 3, remaining in good order. Fighting discipline is to be maintained, and the first ships on station are to form a defensive perimeter."

Lyrren paused. Phase line 3 was around the sky-dock, the most important feature of the city for its defence. That close in, shellfire from the battle could damage the docks, or perhaps the city itself. He strode out of the command centre and onto the bridge, where Skarssen stood watching the battle. Even as he went Lyrren felt the Hammer begin to turn off it's course and head towards the sky-dock. He knew there wasn't another alternative, but as executive officer, he knew he had to make sure the captain hadn't overlooked anything. "Sir, you do remember that the sky-dock is our last line of defence?"

"Save it, Lyrren. I know the consequences as well as you do. There is no chance of evacuating the city, and you have read the reports on Seattle." He sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the situation. "We are being outflanked by their reinforcements, and badly. We just lost the Wolverine and Minnesota."

Lyrren took a step back. The Wolverine was one of the new model cruisers, and Minnesota was the lead ship of her class, the heaviest in the fleet until the introduction of the dreadnoughts.

"Sir, what are we going to do about those who can't retreat at fighting speed?"

"We give them every chance possible, but we don't have the ships to run an extraction."

Their earpieces cracked to life simultaneously.

"Is... is this thing still working!?" The voiced was panicked, and shouting filtered through from the background.

"Who is this?" The captain was the first to respond.

"Ensign Grant Shepherd sir, USAS Liberty."

The Liberty was a proto-dreadnought, with the armour less extensive, and command less centralised than a ship like the Hammer. Nevertheless, it was still one of the largest ships in the combined fleet.

"What is the situation, ensign? Where is Captain Roberts?"

"Dead, sir. We've been boarded, and he took an implosion round to the chest. I salvaged this earpiece off what was left of his head. I'm ranking officer now, I think. I haven't heard from anyone more senior. We have control of the bridge, just, and have barricaded it from the inside. The rest of the ship is still a battle, but the NCO's think we are regaining the advantage."

"Do you still have control of the ship? Can you manoeuvres?"

"Yes, but we don't know for how long. The crew chief has sealed himself in the engine room, so they can't override from there, and we control the targeting, but they control the weapons themselves, so neither of us can fire her guns right now."

"Go about to 180, and move away from the battle, so they can't get any more troops aboard. Any mercenary group with ground troops that are feeling a bit useless right now, you are cleared to attempt to secure the Liberty.

The fleet was moving towards the sky-dock now, giving little chance for their opponents to pick off stragglers.

[Augustus Longeye]

Barum heard the order to retreat and noticed how much of a pounding they were taking. It wasn't' that they were worse, they were a hell of a lot more organised and stronger, but there were just so MANY of the other force. He realised if he kept hanging around he would be cut off from the main force, and picked off in moments by the enemy, so he weaved his way through a pair of unsuspecting ships and his crew broadsided both of them.
When he was clear, he zigzagged back to the main brunt of the force, turning so he could take out anyone who was too close. He had just reached the force when there was a bang, and a horrible splintering noise. The ship had been hit, and though he couldn't see where it was coming from, great gouts of smoke were billowing from the deck. He tried to manoeuvre the ship as best as he could, but it was descending fast into the near middle of the battlefield.

[thefrozenwulf]

the battle was dragging out, and Yuri was getting tired. however, if he made a mistake here, he knew he would die.
i need to keep going. i can't afford to die now.

[The Corsair]

He heard the general order to retreat. It would be a problem later no doubt but he had bigger things to worry about at the time.

He followed through on his idea. He formed a bubble of pressured air around Berkley's arm and made a fake strike at him. This time, Berkley's smoke arm was trapped and he sent a point-blank bolt at the trapped arm-shaped smoke. The smoke was plasmarized and Berkley's arm ceased to exist, both naturally and vaporily.

The Commodore screamed like he'd never heard a man scream before and vomited on the iron decking they stood on. All across his face was a look of horror that seemed to broadcast a message saying Berkley knew he wasn't getting out of this one. He vomited again as he fell to his knees. He wouldn't bleed to death but he was in such heavy pain and shock it was clear he wouldn't be fighting back. Falko took his opportunity.
"Answer a few easy questions now and I'll end the excrutiation. Say nothing useful and I'll leave yu in your own puke to scream for a few more hours. Make the surviving men follow my orders. Who is your commander?"
"Admiral Forsyth. I don't know who he answers to. I don't know how the higher end operates. I know we're fighting to take America but I can't tell you anything more." he managed between screams and retches. He also tapped something beneath his ear with his remaining arm and quivered for about a minute while he tried to supress his displays of agony."
"The ship is yours." he told Falko. "They won't question anything."
"Where's Forsythe?"
"North somewhere. Close to the border."
"Where is he based!?" he bellowed at the mess Berkley now was
"Tenessee. Nashville I think."
Falko turned away, took a deep breath and spun back around, sending a bolt to the Commodore's heart. The screams ended there and Falko set about finding a new bridge crew, supressing a shudder as he exited the command deck.

[Augustus Longeye]

Barum's ship gently drifted lower, but it seemed neither side was taking notice. The main force couldn't stop to help one ship, and the enemy weren't bothering about his downed ship now that he was out of the way. He called for everyone to brace for impact, and the ship gently but solidly impacted the ground, buckling the hull and throwing everyone around. Barum was flung into a railing, and only just managed to stop himself flying over the edge, but in doing so caught sight of a body lying on the ground.
"Pass me a spyglass someone!" he shouted, and grabbed the proffered one, training it on the body.
"By God, it's Julius! Get the ladder out!"

[The Corsair]

-Arch-

Damn the retreat order, this battle was his! He was on a roll today. With 37 downed enemies and hardly a scratch Arch was feeling more confident in the sky than ever.
He caught a glimpse of another ship that was far enough away to assume that Arch wouldn't be a threat to it.
He thrust his arm forward on the control panel, moving both the throttle and light switches. He was now invisible and very very fast. Suddenly, he was behind the enemy ship with all guns ready to fire.
Aboard the enemy vessel, they would hear a muffled 'Fire!' and would see the sky about 50 metres behind them light up in an instant with shots and shells of every manner.
The salvo would knock Arch's ship back a good 20 metres but he had done the hard work on his vessel and put heavy beams where they were needed so the ships could remain intact when these mega-salvos were fired off.
He added another to the tally. 38.

[Augustus Longeye]

Barum jogged across the rocky waste and reached Julius. It took him seconds to see he should be dead. He had hit the ground hard, there was a pool of blood around him, most congealed, but more was gently spreading from him, and there were some suspicious white protrusions from his clothes that Barum thought, with horror, must be bone.
He wasn't moving, and his breathing was shallow and irregular.

[Callidwyn]

A woman in old-fashioned dress eases her way out of a hole between some rocks and timidly approaches the two men. "Do you need some help? I saw the fight. I don't know if I can be of much use, but I can try."

[Augustus Longeye]

Barum stopped and stared.
"What... wh- What on earth are you doing here?! This is a battle field! You could get killed here!"

[The Corsair]

Berkley was right in that the ship's crew didn't question his orders. How this was possible he didn't know but he was in no mind for caring. He got the ship moving with his newly assembled bridge crew. They glided through the battle. The Americans didn't have the strength to attack such a massive ship and the enemy fleet thought it was a friendly ship.

He had the sense to inform his allies that he had captured the ship. He used the earpiece to tell Gebbert to make a general announcement that the carrier was friendly. The carrier smoothly stopped just above the sky dock. Without pause he leaped off the side and flew his own way down to the docks where he rounded up every pilot without a flyable ship.

Within 30 minutes he had enough vessels fabricated in the carrier's bizarre assembly bays for the pilots to get back out and flying. They were starting to tip the numerical balance of the battle.

[Mark Peiterson]

-Sean-
Everything was going well for Sean, The medics had got onboard and the injured men had been taken away, he and his squad where on guard duty on a new ship while the old one was getting repaired. He was passing time with long conversations about battle tactics with the captain in his quarters, Captain James Seybrock to be precise, when disaster struck. All of a sudden the ship keeled over and shuddered.
"Captain, 3 frigates on our tail!"
James and Sean scambled for the door Just as Sean went through a huge explosion rocked the vessel, flame sprayed through the cabin.
"CAPTAIN!"screamed Sean, ranning for the man, but he was to late, he was burned to badly to be saved.
"Sean, you take command, i cant make i.."
With that Sean ran for the Bridge, more explosions rattled the ship. But when he was their, everything went from bad to worce.

To say that enemy ammo rained down on the ship would not be an understatement, thought Sean. He ran his fingers through perspiration-laced hair with worry and turned away from the view screen in order to think. Unfortunately the noise of his ship falling apart around him neatly prevented that anyway.

"Hull breach on deck nine!"

"Communication Transmitter destroyed."

"Port side gun in danger of failure."

"Buther, Klyde man the guns, NOW, Give us cover. We can't outfight them." Carter ordered. He left the obvious rejoinder out, that they had to outthink them, after all, he was in command and that was his job. "George. Scan the surrounding area, is there any cover near by?"

The Soldier at the sensors station stared intently at his screen, forcibly ignoring the weapons blasting into their hull. "The only thing close is a Mountain sir, but the weather would kill the Helium cells. We wouldn't be able to stay there for more then thirty minutes before our hull gave way, not in this condition."

"Well," Sean rejoined, "that's longer then we'd last out here. Take us in maximum power."

While the USAS Celphis , a small frigate, was dwarfed by it's opponent, the positive side of this was that the Celphis had a tad more maneuverability. With a burst of engine power the Celphis pulled around the squared off forward bow of the attacking ship pulling in a tight circle with it's guns parallel to the side of the enemy. Three enemy frigates, guns blazing, swiveled in place and turned to follow the Celphis. In a blaze of Smoke exhaust the Celphis shot ahead and dove behind the mountain, Steam ejecting out behind it. Two enemy frigates pulled up but the third, which had been in the lead, had too much momentum and fell into the Mountain. Carter was disturbed to see that the enemy vessel, which had a far thinner skin then his ship, was instantly Destroyed. He watched as the hull peeled with the pressure ,with a huge explosion, there was nothing left. If the mountain could do that to the frigate, he hated to think what it was doing to the Celphis's hull.

"All right, we're safe for now." Carter looked over his command crew, "I want suggestions for a solution on my desk in five minutes." He turned to his head engineer, "Begin repairs, start with the hull." Carter's officers nodded and he retreated to the sanctity of his office.

[Mark Peiterson]

White

Cold

Snow

Light

All thoughts buzzing around marks head, he stumbled onto therocky ledge, why he had decided, in his condition to climb a mountain because he felt drawn to it was beyond him. It wasn't realy a mountain anymore, it colapsed somehow, "must have been one of the oddboys," chuckled Mark. But then he saw something, floating, no flying towards him, smoke bellowed from it. Behind it flew 2 black darts, following closely, then all of a sudden, bam, it was gone, the black shapes stopped, then after what seemed like an eternity they moved away. Drifting away like dandelion seeds.

Then behind him hovered the sleek machine. His mind raced.

Floating

Metal

Air Ship!

In great bold letters on the side where printed
USAS Celphis

[Mark Peiterson]

As he hauled himself up the ladder he felt joyus, he was finally safe, soon he would rondevue with his squad and Sean. As he opened the hatch to the hull he saw multiple people trying to repair damage to the frame.

Then he accended up the stairs to the bridge, as he spun around he saw many faces, he didnt know, rushing roundthe place. He walked over to one of the men.
"excuse me? Im sergeant Mark Pieterson, can you tell me when you guys will be heading back to base?"
" Actually in just a minute, we need to restock, where going to make a break back to base."
"Make a break, from who?"
"2  frigates, they pounded the he'll out of us, how could you not know?"
The engines fired up and the Celphis shot away, with 2 frigates in hot pursuit!"

[Augustus Longeye]

Julius was standing on the mountain that had just fallen, but in his mind it was still standing tall. He looked around and saw the entire battlefield was frozen in place, the ships perfectly still and even cannonballs suspended in mid-air. He turned full circle, and noticed that whilst his vision was fine directly ahead, things faded to grey at the edges of his vision.
"Where am I?" he asked out loud.
"You're... between." a voice drifted from nowhere.
"Between what?"
"Everything. Worlds, states, dimensions, times... Most importantly you're between your living body and death."
Julius stopped trying to find the voice and thought. If he was truly dead he wouldn't be here, likewise if he were alive. He could be unconscious or in a coma of some sort, but no matter what it wasn't good for someone on a battlefield.
"Why am I here? And where can I go from here?"
"You are here because you have a choice. You are technically dead. Do you know how much energy it takes to do what you did? More than you have." The voice answered it's own question when Julius couldn't. "You can chose to follow the natural order of those how do more than they can and simply die, or you can endure more pain than you can imagine but return to life. The choice is yours."
"And what is... What happens if I die?" he asked.
"Even I do not know. Death is a realm beyond my reach."
Julius nodded, though he didn't know what at, and sat on the mountain.
"How long do I have to think?" he asked the voice.
"Time passes slower here, a year here for a second there. You have three hundred years. Give or take."

[The Corsair]

-Tommy-

Arch was pushing his luck. It took only a few too many seconds of fighting for Tommy to realise they would be flaming husks hurtling toward the ground if they didn't somehow get reinforcements, which was of course impossible when everything you had was already thrown arse-forwards toward the enemy.
He flew low for a few minutes. Among the 5 of them it was a signal that they needed to stop and talk. Kevin was of course down in moments. Cliff and Scratch came as soon as reasonably possible. Arch took his sweet time...
After a good 10 minutes of waiting Arch's balloon drifted down with a myriad of scratches and scorch marks, plus one ruined gas cell.
Hm, finally his airbags are less inflated than his ego...
"Gentlemen, we either need to pack it in or receive some more ships. We can't get any more ships because they don't quite grow on trees so we're going to have to fly in, which may mean digging in on New York's streets. Let's go back now."
Kevin, who normally payed decently close attention to Tommy's words so as to back him up when needed, looked entirely distracted. He was watching the incomprehensibly enormous carrier that sat above the sky docks. The hatches along its sides, about 60 all up he guessed, were opening and from them flew as many new ships, each the size of a frigate.
The boys, minus Tommy, shared a heavy laugh and flew off the rendezvous with the new ships. Tommy took it on the chin. It was a bit funny actually...

[Callidwyn]

She stopped "I was fossil hunting when the battle started. I thought it better to get underground than to try and get back across here to safety."

[Augustus Longeye]

"You've been caught at a very bad time... If you stay here there's a chance they'll shoot at us... but if we can get Julius here up-" Barum pointed at the man "then he can get us out of here..."
Barum checked Julius pulse again and was horrified that it seemed to be slowing down, gradually ceasing... he didn't even know where to start helping him, his injuries were so severe.
"Do you know anything about healing?" he frantically asked.

[Mark Peiterson]

The Celphis came hurtling into the skydock, stopping in the nick of time. They had outrun the Frigates, but at a huge cost to the ship. They needed repairs, and fast if they where going to hold the line.
Mark immediately made his way to hq, he needed to see where Sean and his squad where, he entered and began talking to a young teen at the desk.
"Right, what was that squad called?"
"1st close combat division, part of the secound fusilers."
" Right , at the moment there on the USAS Celphis."

Mark was speachless, he raced back to the ship and caught a glimps of that same blonde hair he had forever had.

[Augustus Longeye]

Julius sat there for a long time thinking over what had happened. It was a lot to process and he hadn't really had time to just sit and think. He didn't notice the pass of time, he didn't grow hungry or cold, or stiff from sitting for so long. He simply persisted.
After a time he decided to progress, and he turned his thoughts to the fighting.
"Voice? Do you have a name?"
"No." it replied.
"Well then... Voice. Am I needed back in life?"
"That's a silly question. Everyone is needed by someone, the reason and extent of the need may vary but everyone is needed."
"Well then-" Julius paused to frame his question better, "can they win without me?"
"Again, you ask a silly question. There are a billion threads of events, some of which they win with you and some they win without you. Further there are threads where they lose, with or without you, and in some both of you destroy each other. I don't know which thread this is. Your fate is in your hands, be content with that."
Julius sighed and continued to ponder.
"Why is returning to life going to be so hard?" he asked the voice.
"You are going to die. To return to life your soul, this part of you, will be turned into energy and pushed back into the world. Once there you will have to find your body and inhabit it, but it will not be as your own body but rather a glove holding you. The transformation to energy and subsequent crossing of barriers will hurt more than anything you can imagine, and being stuck inside your body will be ask if you were trapped in a casket of white hot iron. There will be no release until you are killed again, and you will spend every waking moment in agony."
"Then why on earth would I return?!"
"I never said you would. A vast number of people are given this offer, as of yet very very few have taken it."
"I can see why..." Julius muttered to himself, then said "How long have I been here already?"
"Three hundred and forty eight years ninety three days eighteen hours five minutes and twelve seconds."
This shocked Julius. "I'm going to think some more, can you tell me when I have been ere for a total of four hundred years?"
"Certainly."

[Callidwyn]

"I do know a little, though I doubt I can help him enirely. I will try my best." She approached Julius and knelt down, examining his injuries, before pulling some pieces of cloth from her bag and trying to clean up and stop some of the bleeding. "This is going to be difficult, but if we can a least get rid of some of this blood we can see where to really begin..."

[Mark Peiterson]

Mark walked into the Control Room of the skydock. The room was buzzing with activity, headsets blazing,  airship models being pushed around a map of new York. He walked around hearing snippets of conversation around him.
" Eagle, you are cleared for docking."
"Roger Skydock, on way in."

"Minisota, turn 140 degrees and head for battle group ahead of you."
"This is Minisota, roger, heading into engage."

"This is the USAS Cobra, we have two enemy frigates on my tail, need some help."
" Copy cobra, sending a mercinary group, eta 1 minute."
"Not good enough, we can't shake Em."
"Cobra hang on..."
"To La..."

Finally Mark reached the desk, and the familiar man faced him.
"Major Stratford, it's an honor."
"Sergent, its no time for greetings, you have got a job to do."
Mark leaned over the desk as Stratford pulled out a map with various markings and plans drawn on.
"Reports tell us that the bastards are massing for a big push, just this time intelligence tells us they're going to drop troops to take out key locations."
" firstly," The majors hand pointed to a complex west of downtown manhattan," the skynavy hq, secondly, the Military Base east of here and lastly, the area under the skydock."
" We wont be able to hold them back on two fronts, so we are currently reviving plans for a mass evacuation or a small group sent for help, either way we need you and your squad. We have managed to pull together 10 stealth Zeppelins to fly in low and man positions her, here and here. In truth the city had been working on defences for the last 10 years. These are what it's come to, but somehow they, been jammed. We need an escort to guard or matinence crews to power them up. They should draw enough attention to allow for ships to slip past."

"son, this could save new York !"

[The Corsair]

It felt like years since he'd been on board the Falcon...

He entered his ship by launching himself at Rosie and sharing a long embrace.
"Berkley is gone. Properly this time..." He said as they parted. Rosie looked as though she was about to make a response when a massive sheet of warped shrapnel spun through the ship's plating and lodged itself firmly in the centre of the gondola.
He felt himself flung backwards by something disturbingly unearthly and he hit the front windows with enough force to crack them. His vision was bloody and blurry as he gained a sense of falling. He was sitting haphazardly on the control panel as he heard Rosie call out a troubled "Sorry!"
Yes, right, that's Rosie's power... he thought to himself. It really did seem like years since he'd been here...

He made the thought a reservation for a thinking spot later in the day. His ship was falling sharply. It was a mess of electrical sparks and escaping air. piece of shrapnel had cut at an angle that had obviously severed multiple gas cells.
He stood up and instantly felt intensely dizzy. He forced the sensation away as best as he could and summoned what energy he could. He knew he was borrowing from a being that reserved the right to cut him off and essentially leave him as a pile of drained flesh but he had to use whatever he had available. He jammed his eyes shut and forced the world away while he levelled out his ship, which basically meant flying a giant chunk of metal. He was aware of sweat across his entire self and of blood from his head mixing with that sweat and running down his back and using his near-useless legs as an express way to the decking where it began to pool around his feet in a disturbingly large quantity.

He wasn't sure how exactly the rest of that voyage went but he didn't wait in his bed to have someone tell him of some incredible feat. He was in a medical centre somewhere and he had to find out where. He rushed out past the doctor that was about to tell him about how what he was doing was a bad idea and soon found Rosie keeping a steady run at his side.
"How are you running like this? You've been there for 15 minutes. You're still bleeding!"
"I've had a sleep. I'm fine."
He was still bleeding though. He had bandages on at least, but he guessed he'd need new ones within the hour.
"Where are we?" He asked as he sprinted down a corridor that he guessed led to the bridge of whatever ship he had figured he was on.
"USAS Celphis."
He burst through a door and was met by a slightly startled but soon saluting captain. Not that Falko cared much about him at this point.
"Where's the Falcon?" He shot urgently at Rosie while he returned the captain's salute.
Rosie kept her gaze fixed on the decking...

[Mark Peiterson]

Mark paced urgently to the hanger bay, where the crew of two Gunships and 2 squads of troops where waiting. He had a lot to explain, but it was a war, they would take it well. As he walked he bumped into a mans shoulder.As he turned around he saw an old cloaked man. With white hair. He was sure he was someone of importance, or possibly that was just him. He had a mission to deal with and that was his responsibility. All of a sudden as he was walking past the USAS Celphis he heard an almighty racket. Curious, he went inside to see what was going on.

[Augustus Longeye]

"You've just hit four hundred..." The voice gently reminded him. Julius didn't react immediately, but kept staring into space for a few moments. The voice continued, "You can feel it, can't you? The gentle pull... you're feeling less and less sure of what you should do, and your attention is gently going... somewhere."
"Yes." Julius replied, and that was all. There was nothing else to say. He could feel death gently welcoming him, and he could feel himself wanting to go. No matter how much he could help the others, all things had their time. Was it really right for him to chose otherwise?

Barum paused in horror. "He's stopped breathing!" He shouted, and jabbed a finger at Julius neck, feeling for a pulse. There was nothing. He stopped. "There's nothing we can do, is there? He's bleeding a lot, we've got no way of stopping it... if we continue he'll survive for a few moments more..." he looked away. "Everything has its time." he muttered, and stood up.