19. The Rouge Sea Fowl [Modern Warship in a Cultivation World]

“Take off complete, Skyline Clear,” Lieutenant Sam reported, his voice crisp and professional despite the rebellious nature of their mission.

The Sea Fowl, a dedicated reconnaissance and anti-submarine aircraft clawed its way into the ink-black night. Now level, the aircraft became a stark, angular silhouette against the celestial tapestry of three swollen red moons. Their bloody light bled across the cloud tops, painting a wavering, crimson road on the ocean's surface far below.

The Sea Fowl itself was a vessel of sharp angles and predatory grace, its advanced design meant to cheat the wind and evade radar detection. The triple moonlight glinted not off a broad surface, but along the knife-edge of its swept-back wings and the jagged line of its canopy. From above, its dark, radar-absorbent skin drank the light, making it appear as a mere shadow, a void against the stars. From the side, one could appreciate its unique profile: a tandem cockpit, like the segmented head of a dragonfly, sat ahead of a powerful, humming lift-fan assembly. Two vertical stabilizers, canted inward like a raptor's talons, framed the glowing orange pulse of its rear-directed thrust nozzle. It was a machine built for silence and stealth, yet under the gaze of the three moons, it looked less like a marvel of engineering and more like an ancient predator, newly awakened and hunting in a primordial sky.

“You return right now! This is defiance of a direct order, Lieutenant Sam!” Imogen’s voice, vibrating with fury, rang in the radio.

Lieutenant Sam and Ensign Carter, however, simply ignored her escalating demands, maintaining their operational facade by only reporting back on the “observation mission” they had unilaterally assigned themselves.

“Will it really be alright, Lieutenant Sam?” Ensign Carter asked, his voice echoing Lieutenant Sam’s headset.

“Ah, it’ll be fine,” Sam replied, his tone relaxed and seasoned, trying to project a confidence he didn’t entirely feel. “I’ve done this dozens of times on missions back when Captain Imogen was just a Weapons Officer aboard the USS StormRinger. She’s all rules and regulations; she’ll yell, but she won’t shoot us down.”

“It’s not the yelling I’m worried about,” Ensign Carter muttered. “It’s the fuel, and the thought of getting tagged by one of those Spirit Beasts while we’re up here alone.”

“Focus on the instruments, Ensign Carter. We need data for the nav team,” Lieutenant Sam instructed, shutting down the conversation. He glanced out his canopy. “Look, land,” he said mid-conversation, as a distant, massive shape came into view under the night sky.

Ensign Carter, snapping back to his duty, instantly relayed the critical information into his mic. “Sea Fowl to CIC, Target in sight.”

The constant bustle of orders to return instantly silenced the Command Information Center. The realization that the rogue pilots had actually located something vital brought the entire bridge to a standstill.

“Ten minutes to arrival, cloud density two, visibility clear,” Lieutenant Sam continued the relay, ensuring that the live camera footage from their nose-mounted lens was playing on the main screen aboard the Event Horizon. He was leveraging his unauthorized discovery to solidify his position, presenting the Captain with a result she couldn’t immediately disregard.

_______

In the Command Information Center, the tense silence was broken by Lu Mingfe identifying the strange landmass.

“That looks like Jade Gate Port,” Lu Mingfe said, his eyes fixed on the live broadcast from the Sea Fowl. “It’s heavily guarded, as it’s one of the most important ports for The Sovereignties.” As Jessica quickly translated, a wave of recognition rippled through the officers.

Imogen, though furious, clicked the mic again, her voice tight with professional anxiety. “Lieutenant Sam, the visible data is sufficient. We have intel that it’s heavily guarded. Return to the Event Horizon right now.”

______

The video footage was playing for everyone in the Airwing’s communal area, and the general navy personnel had gathered to see what the local landscape of this new world looked like. The port was beautifully archaic: docks filled with wooden ships, soaring towers with jade-colored roofs, and what appeared to be massive, ornate walls guarding the city.

“It’s like ancient Southeast Asia or something,” Ensign O’Malley chimed in, many of the gathered crew nodding in agreement.

“They should return now, though. It’s quite dangerous out there,” Ensign Jenkins said, his concern overriding his fascination as he watched the footage with everyone else.

_______

Imogen turned to Lu Mingfe, her gaze sharp. “How dangerous is it? Specifically, how much of a risk is a rogue flight like this?”

Pax quickly took several photos of the monitor, capturing the port’s details.

Lu Mingfe’s expression darkened, the easygoing facade vanishing. The gravity in his voice, when Jessica translated, instantly silenced the entire Command Information Center.

“The battle that you had witnessed earlier, the one that forced you to flee and cost me my remaining comrades?” Lu Mingfe stated slowly, making the connection explicit. “That confrontation with the Azure Mist Sect’s forces… it was specifically to secure control of that very port.”

The CIC went utterly still. The Sovereignties’ port wasn’t just "guarded;" it was a freshly contested, high-value target that the Absolution Alliance, and the Azure Mist Sect, their recent attackers, were fighting over. The Sea Fowl had not flown to a safe neutral zone; it had flown directly into a recent, violent warzone.

Imogen’s face instantly twisted with a grim anxiety that could no longer be contained. She slammed her hand down on the console, instantly beginning to issue orders to bring the pilot back at any cost.

_______

“I see a port-like city,” Lieutenant Sam radioed calmly, though his voice was being overridden by the Captain’s shouts. “Current altitude 850 meters. We will descend to 150 meters from now on to gain clearer visual intelligence.”

“150 meters is too dangerous, Lieutenant Sam!” Ensign Carter yelled from behind, his voice tight with alarm as he monitored his gunner position. The Sea Fowl began its slow, deliberate descent.

“You know I can handle this, Ensign Carter,” Lieutenant Sam replied, his tone smooth and unwavering.

“I do believe in you,” Ensign Carter conceded into the headset, looking at the distant port slowly increasing in size as they descended. “I wouldn't have opted to be your gunner if I didn’t. However…” He looked at the red moonlight painting the sweeping wings of the aircraft.

Lieutenant Sam finished the sentence for him, cutting off the condition. “However? You can let the pigs eat your conditional trust! We’re too close to turn back now. Let’s go.” The Sea Fowl started descending a bit faster, accelerating toward the target.

As the aircraft dropped lower, Lieutenant Sam began describing the scene with detailed precision for the recording systems, providing the Command Information Center with a clear, visual feed of the port under the eerie triple moonlight.

“The port is immense, constructed primarily of dark stone and wood. Significant naval presence, I count twenty-three unique wooden vessels, larger than any sailboat we’ve seen. They appear to be under steam power; sails are furled. The city itself is protected by a massive, tiered stone wall, easily fifty feet high. I can see torches moving along the ramparts, indicating patrols, but no immediate signs of a recent battle. Wait... there's a heavy concentration of personnel moving into the central harbor area, too organized for civilian traffic. They appear to be wearing the light blue and silver colors”

Just as he finished his operational report, Ensign Carter’s voice screamed through the radio, shattering the professional calm.

“Direction seven o’clock! Four hundred meters!” Ensign Carter shouted with all his might. “Two Vessels approaching! At the speed of three hundred!”