Admiral Cerle Vante stared out at the Pacific Ocean from the edge of the Arc Royale a 30 000 ton air craft carrier. There were few things as beautiful as a sun set off the Pacific Ocean. It was impossible not to feel humilityunder the brilliant colours of the sky reflecting off the ocean floors. The winds of the Pacific pushed the Arc Royale gently as it trudged onwards. Cerle stood immobile even through the strong winds. The winds only added to the joy of being there in that moment. Who needed war when faced with such beauty? Cerle felt his already rough skin was layered with salt. He could taste it when he breathed, he could even taste it when he bit his lip. Salt got everywhere that was a fact of working on any ocean. It accumulated and built up until it was visible to everyone making everything look either old or dirty. Cerle checked his watch. It was an silver old styled pocket watch that Cerle loved using. It had an engraving of an over sized swords and a 17 hundreds pistol on the front.
The cleaning crews would be there soon. Since salt was so effective at clogging everything the ship neddeda last thorough cleaning before the ship reached the coast. New jets would replace most of the current ones Cerle had on board. They could have just flown them off but command had been specific on the Arc coming in. The whole task of replacing everything and doing maintenance would take a month at the very least. Cerle flipped his watch shut and put it back in his white Admirals uniform.
The ship rocked gently under a large wave. He didn't move an inch as the ship moved instead he held onto his walking stick. It was a thick hollow finished oak with a thick sword underneath. The oak shell was white matching his uniform. Cerle had many other coloured shells that matched his uniforms and other suits but only one large rapier.
He didn't need more than one, Soul was the only sword he needed. Also he was sure his daughter would have like to own it some day.Even if not to use but to hang up and display as something to remember her father by.
A grin etched it's self on his face. She was 30 years old and he still couldn't think of her than anything else than her baby. Though, she didn't think much of himnot much at all.
Ten years and he still received no word from her, but he'd never stop trying to reach her. He had to tell her about the illness he had. He most likely wouldn't survive it and he needed to give her soul. Cerle shuddered and gave a soft sigh showing his age. Listening hard, he tried to take his mind of his only child.
The nuclear reactor on the ship wasn't loud but one could hear it if the ocean was still enough. That sound added with the sound of the wind and the ocean tended to make shouting and whispering the exact same thing. It was particularly hard to hear foot steps but Cerle could somehow 'sense' when people stepped up from behind him.
His senses awoke and he instinctively reached under his uniform jacket. Cerle had a lot of battle experience, which was surprisingly rare for most people in his rank. Cerle had started out as a marine and worked his way up to where he was. The fear of someone coming from behind him and stealing his life away never left him.
The bottom of his suit flapped up to reveal a heavy desert eagle 5.0. It was a stainless steel custom make with a special engraving written Nirvana. The senses inside of Cerle grew and formed a shape of a human being which stopped behind Cerle. Cerle kept silent, quietly waiting for the presence behind him to grow a voice. Anyone behind him would present themselves soon or end up with a giant hole threw their spines. His men knew this.
"Sir Vante Sir!" Came the voice behind him. It was a female and one he heard more often then any other. Cerle let go of Nirvana and rested both of his palms on Soul once again.
"What is it Ms Crow?" He said with a dangerously cool air.
"Our thermal radar has spotted something. Something large."
"Where?" Cerle asked still keeping his eye on the ocean as if willing what ever the object was out into the open.
The lieutenant stepped in front of Cerle. She was dressed in her best uniform just like he was but, unlike him, her hair wasn't dressed up neatly and flowed loosely in the air.. Much to Cerle's disappointment. There was no point in reprimanding her. She was a good soldier and an extremely hard worker and tended to always be in good spirits or severely depressed. In that aspect she was a little like a pendulum, moving from one side to the other of each pole but she stayed within the law so no one could complain.
Though whenever she smiled, Cerle noticed she always looked as if she had something to hide. She'd failed the psyche test for active duty and Cerle had needed to use every ounce of push he had to take her into his wing. Right now though the intent expression her face held told him she wanted nothing more than to talk.
She was holding a colour print out. Cerle took it and examined it carefully. There were the usual thermal indicators of ocean life all tiny compared to the scan's main attraction. There was a red to orange to light which formed a circle in centre of the large print out. The circle was at least twenty times the size of the Arc.
"Nothing Sir only the thermal radar is picking it up." The look on Tina's face told him that the thermal radar was in perfect working condition.
"Is it…" Cerle paused. The grip on he had on Soul tightened and his knuckles turned white under the pressure. He could sense it out there. It wasn't right. "… it is moving?" He sounded illiterate but the scan was so ridiculous it seemed to effect him. Tina's face confirmed it "How fast is it moving and can we confirm it as anything dangerous like a vessel or a weapon?"
"It cant be confirmed as anything other than a patch of warm water in the centre of the pacific. That's" Now it was Tina's turn to hesitate. "Moving faster than the ship. It moving at twenty to twenty-five knots."
"It can't be… Forget it. Quickly wake up everyone. Tell them it's a final battle test for everyman. That includes the LOX crews, safety observers, GSE's and all medical personal. I'll personally take care of anyone who slacks off. Damn it, we're so close to home. I want all these Jets moving before I reach the platform. Why aren't you running? Run!"