Star Spangled Ocean-I-Connecticut Gets a Submarine

==ACT I – Connecticut Gets a Submarine!=

Captain Elijah sat comfortably in his chair as the WN Madison gently floated toward the risen sun. Nothing but the rippling ocean stood before the battleship.
Over the recent days, one of Minnesota's cargo freighters disappeared under mysterious circumstances while following a routine trade route with the island of Massachusetts. The presumption is that the ship capsized due to enhanced weather. A small hurricane had recently formed between New York, Massachusetts, and Connecticut; but not strong enough to harm the island. Regardless, the storm was likely strong enough to blow a simple cargo ship down. Of course, we haven't ruled out the possibility that the Sawyer Alliance intercepted the ship—considering Minnesota is an indirect ally of Wisconsin through trade. Amidst these concerns, battleship Madison has been called out to solve this mystery...
Elijah nodded to himself and stood up, then moved to the window of the bridge. It was there that he gazed out upon the open waters. They were drifting through the thin stretch of uncontrolled waters that made up the Connecticut-Massachusetts border. No island controlled this stretch of territory.
Mikhel was mindlessly spinning around in his chair while staring at the captain, who appeared very focused on the water. Whilst spinning, Mikhel raised a brow.
“Somethin' out there?”
The captain very slowly moved his hand up to his temple and squinted, “Apparently, Connecticut recently discovered an underwater source of iron. But not a regular source of iron, this source is said to be of immense proportion.”
“What kind of proportion?”
The elderly man looked Elijah in the eyes sternly, “About 6,000 feet of pure iron ore.”
“What the-”
“Of course, this is in all likeliness an exaggeration. That'd be a mountain made of pure iron—too unrealistic of a concept.”
“I'd sure say.”
Elijah looked forward again, then smirked, “You have to feel bad for them. Connecticut is a micro-island lacking rich natural resources. This iron would be just what they need to get the rebound on their economy.”
Finally, out of excitement, Mikhel got up and stood at the window alongside his captain. “What, are you telling me that the iron source is out of their territory?”
“Sadly, yes. And the border laws forbid anyone from extracting resources from uncontrolled territory. The only exception is if they mine the iron, but give it all to the Atlantic Market.”
Mikhel's jaw dropped, “They'd have to give it all to the Atlantic Market?”
“Aye, every piece of ore. But this wouldn't benefit them at all. The Atlantic Market exists for any nation to purchase at—even the Sawyer Alliance. Connecticut would want the iron to sell, but they'd have to purchase their own iron off the Market.”
“Gosh...”
“It's a sad situation for both Connecticut and Massachusetts, but for now, it's the law. Maybe there'll be an exception made if the two islands can share it, but for now, the law stands.”
Mikhel soon found himself squinting as well, “So---o, where is this? Can we see it?”
“A few miles ahead, we should be able to see the ore if we pass right over it.”
“Cool.”
The two continued to stand next to one another, both looking out at the sea. But Mikhel had caught sight of something. A familiar sight. Simply scrolling his eyes down slightly, he spotted the flowing brown hair of Pearl. Her hair whipped back and forth just like the flag of Wisconsin that stood before her. A common sight, as Pearl seemed to stand over the bow of the ship on a routine basis.
The lovestruck communication officer rested his palm over his cheek and blinked at her. Elijah slowly looked down at him. Mikhel tapped two of his fingers down constantly while staring at Pearl.
“Have you noticed that Pearl is always standing by the bow?”
Immediately, Elijah smirked and gave him a nod, “I do, but I couldn't explain this. It's a common sight that all captains see.” Mikhel looked up at him curiously. “Perhaps she is sad, maybe she's exhausted, or perhaps she is simply thinking. Either way, I commend her for using these hours for relaxation.”
“Really?”
Elijah leaned over and crossed his arms together, resting both arms down against the window. He nodded and gave Pearl a strong look of admiration, “If you think about it, Pearl has one of the biggest jobs on the ship. In combat, I sit over there; you sit over there, Rodrick sits down in the control room, and the rest of the crew mans their stations. But Pearl, she's expected to run wherever there is conflict. If there is a leak, she must rush.”
“That is a lot of work...”
“Oh, and believe me, she has much work left to do before the Sawyer Alliance lays down their sword.” He smiled proudly, “The biggest priority of the engineer during war is to make sure that the ship doesn't sink. The harder we work, the less she must work.” The captain's eyes turned onto Mikhel's, “And I know, that, in its own, is an ambition you strive to fulfill when in combat.”
Mikhel silently gasped, then nodded with a slight blush, “O- of course. She shouldn't have to run all over the ship because of our failure to defend ourselves.”
“Precisely, my boy.”


Little did the crew of the WN Madison know, just a quarter mile from the rear was a submerged vessel. From underwater, the ship moved just slightly faster than the Wisconsin battleship. The only part of the ship out of water was the risen periscope.
From within the submerged ship stood several sailors and a captain. The captain was looking through the attack periscope with a quirked mouth, waiting for the center of the scope to divide the battleship symmetrically.
“Bearing 025, moving at regular naval standards.”
The captain's navigator moved a protractor down onto the map and sketched a straight line with a pencil, then snapped his fingers. “Tube aligned, sir.”
At that moment, the captain stepped away from the attack periscope and nodded, “Fire.”
A young female weapons officer opened the attack panel and pressed down on the attack mechanism. “Tube firing!”
A single silo under the front center of the ship opened, and within seconds, a long metallic torpedo had rushed out for the battleship. Unlike the ship, the torpedo floated upward on a collision course for destruction.


Elijah pushed his fingers together and hummed while gazing at the sparkling water, “If you want my honest opinion, I think that the iron will eventually be harvested. I'm guessing that some more studies will be performed on the metal before an agreement is made, but ultimately, it'll be shared between the two islands.”
“But who needs it more? Massachusetts or Connecticut?”
“Who knows, both are equally small islands.”
Moments after saying this, both men were alerted by a blipping sound coming from Mikhel's station. Mikhel was quick to return to his station, Elijah, of course, was hoping that this sound was indicating that they had found the missing ship.
“Report.”
Mikhel lowered his eyebrows and shook negatively at the radar, “Unidentified object to the rear. Small object, moving very fast.”
Elijah grunted and turned his body, “What? Are we being chased by a whale?”
The captain wasn't given a response to this question, the communications expert simply gawked at the monitor with widened eyes.
“I- it's not changing direction in the slightest...” he quickly turned to the captain with a frantic look, “I recommend changing direction, quickly!”
Elijah appeared startled by the sudden drama, but had not a single word of objection. He turned to the navigation officers and swung his finger forth strongly.
“Evasive action! Quick moving object coming from the rear, get us out of its path!”
The primary officer nodded and looked out the window, “Bear to the left, full throttle!”
The battleship had entered an emergency maneuver—a very simple one. They were moving to the left at an increased speed, but not nearly as fast as the approaching torpedo. It took seconds to turn the massive ship, but this left the crew in the same situation. The torpedo would likely reach them before they could get away.
The sirens were issued, and of all the crew members, Pearl was the one to make a run for her quarters. She was right to suspect that a bad situation was about to unfold.
Elijah grit his teeth and turned, “Object placement?”
“500 meters and closing fast.”
The captain grunted and turned away from Mikhel. He pressed a button down near his earphone to call Rodrick down in the weapons room.
“Do you have the object in sight?”
Down below within the dark weapons room, Rodrick rubbed his forehead. “Looks like a missile.”
“A- a missile!?”
“Our best chance would be to hit it with a tomahawk missile, but the close range blast might capsize us. I recommend bucking down and taking the hit.”
Elijah grinded his teeth nervously, but ultimately found his hands tied. He quickly got back into his seat and held on firmly. He mashed his finger down on the intercom system frantically.
“Captain speaking, all hands, prepare for impact!”
Pearl, almost clumsily, fell over while sprinting into her quarters. Regardless of the order, she remained on her feet. The first thing she did was grab onto her toolbox, then grabbed several large metal plates.
The torpedo came closer and closer to the ship, it was a near miss, but it was obvious that the torpedo was to successfully make contact with the stern. After much time of waiting, the torpedo ran straight into the left side of the stern. The entire ship was violently shaken as a fairly sized explosion had soon engulfed the back in fire. Fortunately, the ship was made out of pure metal, and thus took no damage from fire.
Pearl had been practically catapulted across the hallway upon impact, but fortunately, so did her tools. Even with the ship rocking back and forth violently, she got onto her feet and ran out the door.


The captain of the submerged vessel looked through the attack periscope once more and nodded, “Torpedo impact.”


Elijah stood back up after impact and grunted loudly, “Damage rep- no, firstly, are there any more incoming missiles?”
Mikhel immediately spun around, “No, we're clear of hostile objects.”
“Damage report!”
Pearl ran across the stern frantically, but found that no damage had been done to the surface. She quickly made her way to the railing and looked down at the propellers—which were also fine. But there was indeed damage. The left flank of the stern was now punched in with a tear going down the center.
“Oh, shoot...” she muttered.
Mikhel turned his head to the captain once more, “Sir, Pearl just signaled for medium damage down by the stern.”
“Medium damage, huh?”
“She hasn't called up the bridge yet.”
Elijah scratched his chin nervously, “That complicates my decision whether we run or stay put...”
It was about two minutes later that Pearl had arrived down in the engine room. The super-strength propellers took no damage, but the room was indeed experiencing minor flooding as a result of damaged walling.
The fact that the wall was punched inward made fixing the damage slightly more complicated, but only because Pearl was unsure of whether she had time to flatten it out again. Either way, there was a medium level of water flow coming from the hole. Opening her toolbox, Pearl brought a radio up to her cheek while simultaneously getting a special hammer-like tool out. She proceeded to hit the metal back into place while pressing her cheek up to the speaker button.
“This is Pearl. The propeller room has experienced medium damage, one medium sized hole with flooding.” She flattened part of the metal back into position, then worked on another side, “I'm gonna try and flatten the damage back in before sealing it.”
Elijah nodded while holding his earphone, “Roger, just get her fixed quickly.”



The captain of the submerged ship, once again, found his attack periscope centered on the battleship. This time it was centered ahead of the ship's bow.
“Target locked, prepare to fire.”
A male tube loader shook his fist up, “Tube loaded.”
The female weapons officer nodded carefully, “Tube ready.”
“Fire.”



Another torpedo surfaced and rushed for the battleship. This time at a much larger distance. The smoking battleship was moving quickly, but wouldn't be able to outrun the torpedo in time unless they into final maneuver mode—which would press the gas and give the ship a boost.
Mikhel gasped and slammed his fist down, “Another water missile!”
“Shoot!”
Rodrick turned towards his officers with all seriousness, “Ready a tomahawk!”
But quickly, under a rare circumstance, Mikhel intervened over his microphone, “Rodrick, check your target; I think it's closing in too fast.”
Rodrick squinted at the screen as his men prepared the guided missile, then suddenly flashed his eyes open in shock. The torpedo was simply coming too quickly. Elijah took Mikhel's side in the argument and nodded.
“Abort launch!” the captain ordered.
Mikhel nodded, then widened his eyes again, “P- Pearl!”
Elijah was right on this as well, “Pearl, I need you to retreat from the propeller room.”
The engineer slammed her tool against the hole again, then widened her eyes, “What? We can't do that!”
“You could get killed if that torpedo hits the propeller room, I order you to retreat until further notice.”
“B- but the flood-” She shook her thoughts aside and picked up her toolbox, “Yes, sir!”
Finally, the captain pondered about the obvious, “Is there any other way we can stop this attack?”
Rodrick shook negatively to himself and responded, “No, our weapons cannot aim down that low.”
“Well, then, prepare for second impact...”
Pearl had thrown herself into the secondary crew quarters, which in all honesty, was a very bad idea. If the next hit were to blow a massive hole in the middle of the hull, she risked having the entire bottom of the ship filling up. She simply aspired to be close to the impact so that she could resume immediate work.
The WN Madison had now completely turned around. They were once on route to the destination, but it had become clear to just about everyone at this point what had happened to the Minnesota freighter. It was sunk under mysterious circumstances.
The torpedo raced toward the center of the ship, but fortunately, their speed permitted them to take another propeller hit. A severely bad place to take a hit, but an area where the impact would cause less flooding.
The tube had once again run straight into the stern, but this time managed to bend part of the propeller in the process. Fortunately, no hole had been created, but another wall had been punched in.
Pearl was quick on her feet, she had started to run before the sound of the explosion ceased. This time, Rodrick had fallen down due to the shaking.
Elijah finally cracked his knuckles and growled, “What in the world is hitting us!?”
Mikhel grit his teeth, “Clearly, something underwater is shooting us.”
“Underwater?”
“Has to be, there's not a ship around us.”
Elijah's jaw dropped slightly in surprise, he then nodded and grabbed onto his earphone, “Pearl, what kind of hit did we take?”
Despite the new hit being more fresh, she had returned to hitting the first hole. Finally, she was close to flattening it out, with her feet now completely hidden under the water. She had resorted to putting her toolbox up on the engine.
“Propeller damage and another punched in wall. Minor flooding in the stern and quarters.”
Mikhel turned to his captain again and shrugged, “Sir, there's nothing out there...”
Elijah blinked nervously, but with his hands tied, closed his eyes and sighed. “Alright, emergency pullout. Get us back to Wisconsin before we hit the seafloor.” His eyes opened very angrily, “Rodrick, have a tomahawk ready to fire. If a third water missile comes, I want it destroyed immediately. And Mikhel, stay focused. I want to know the exact place the missile comes from.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Aye, sir.”
The WN Madison had officially initiated emergency procedures for the first time in years, something that would be very costly in terms of fuel and oil. But it was a surefire way to escape. Within a minute, the ship had swung into Massachusetts' territory and proceeded onward back home.


The captain of the submerged vessel stepped away from the periscope and lowered his eyebrows, “The battleship's gone. But it'll be back...”


Later that evening, the crew of WN Madison had retired to the mess hall for dinner. Most of the crew ate together in the back rows; Pearl, Mikhel, and Rodrick were of the upper class and were permitted access to the front rows. There was no immediate benefit to this aside from the fact that they could eat in privacy. Pearl, however, took privacy a step forward and always ate by herself.
Mikhel and Rodrick, as usual, sat together at a table. Whether they liked it or not, they had suffered defeat on this day; and even more shamefully, there was no indication of who had defeated them. Rodrick couldn't help but feel shame for not coming up with a strategy to stop the torpedoes. In his defense, no one had ever seen such weaponry before—or at least not for a few decades.
The two continued to eat their sandwiches, but Mikhel couldn't stop glancing over at the lone engineer curiously. Rodrick smirked at his obvious interest and lowered his sandwich.
“Just go and sit by her. It's not like she holds a grudge or anything, she's just shy or something.”
Mikhel rested his hand over his chin and sighed, “I dunno, that sounds awkward. I mean, she probably likes talking about engineer stuff, and I don't know too much about that.”
“Then, invite her over here and we can all talk.”
“No offense, Rod, but I don't think she'd be very interested in talking to the kind of guy who puts her in situations like today.”
“Huh?”
Mikhel raised an eyebrow, then smirked, “Oh, sorry, I mean... Weapon officers seek to destroy and make it hard for engineers, engineers seek to fix what weapon officers destroy.”
“Oh, yeah, that could be some-”
Both men stopped talking upon spotting Elijah near Pearl. The two had entered a very brief conversation, and soon, both Elijah and Pearl moved toward their table. Mikhel gulped for two reasons. Firstly, because his crush was approaching him. Secondly, because his captain was doing so as well. Both Pearl and Elijah sat adjacently to the two officers, Elijah quickly broke the silence by placing a printed paper out in the middle of the table.
“Submarine,” he announced.
“Submarine?” Mikhel repeated.
“It has to be. Those obviously weren't regular missiles, they were torpedoes.”
Rodrick raised his eyebrows, “Isn't the submarine concept just fictitious?”
Elijah smirked and shook negatively, “Oh, not at all. See, I was but a cabin boy at the time. But decades ago, during the Ontario-New York war, the island of Ontario had put together some kind of underwater vessel nicknamed 'The Sub.' The design was convoluted and very costly, but very effective.”
Mikhel raised an eyebrow, “So you mean to tell me, that we just got beat around by the Canadians today?”
Pearl immediately turned her head, “Isn't Ontario a peacekeeping island nowadays?”
“Precisely. So I'm led to believe that this is the doing of the Sawyer Alliance, or perhaps a lone wolf.”
“A lone wolf?”
“Aye, it's clear to me that today's event is linked to the missing Minnesotan freighter, which was last reported within that border. So-”
“It's gotta have a dock nearby,” Mikhel answered.
“I'm inclined to believe that the Sawyer Alliance has enlisted the help of either Massachusetts or Connecticut. But I'm left wondering, how would either of those islands have constructed such a doomsday weapon?”
Pearl rubbed her chin, “It's weaponry wasn't very strong. It hit our hull spot on two times, yet, only one hole was made. The damage itself only took me an hour or so to fix. The damaged propeller was already reconstructed at the naval base.”
Mikhel snapped his fingers, “It must have been a single-firing submarine. The time between torpedo launch was very distanced.”
“Good observation. Ontario was using a submarine that fired multiple torpedoes. This must be less modern vessel...”
“Does our ship have sonar?” asked Rodrick.
“Nope, I don't think anyone ever expected there to be underwater threats ever again. The costs of maintaining a sonar system. Wisconsin's one of the bigger islands, and even we would struggle in maintaining a submarine.”
“So what do we do?” asked Pearl.
Elijah gave the three a serious look and nodded, “Here's the plan. We're going back tomorrow, we'll need to have our weapons ready to hit wherever the torpedoes launch from. I also want to test my theory of whether this is truly a submarine or not. If we can bring ourselves into shallow water, the sub will have no choice but to either stop or raise itself up. If it raises itself, we'll have a clear shot at it.”
With this being said, Elijah stood up and saluted the three. “Carry on, sailors.”
The captain left, and moments after, Pearl stood up as well. Everyone's mind was on the submarine issue, but for a moment, Mikhel resumed personal thoughts.
“Wa- wait, Pearl!”
She turned around and nodded with puckered lips, “Yes, Mikhel?”
“U---uh... good work today with the repairs... and saving us...”
The woman smiled heavily and nodded, “Oh, thank you, I really needed that.”
Taking the compliment with a smile, she returned to her table. Mikhel found himself smiling like a fool, then face palmed. Rodrick chuckled while looking over the printed submarine document.
“Because that's how you get a girl to eat at our table...” he joked sarcastically.
“Hey, at least she took the compliment..!” Mikhel hissed back.


As explained, the battleship—now fully repaired—returned to the scene of the battle. Though, no one was willing to call the conflict of the previous day a 'fight.' What they experienced was more of an attack, and nothing more. It was today that they expected a fair fight.
Elijah stood valiantly outside the bridge. Again, he found himself gazing upon the open water, now wondering what beast of a ship was hidden beneath God's shiny blue blanket. He cupped his hand over his chin and hummed slowly.
Meanwhile, Mikhel had his eyes glued to the screen, waiting for the moment where a torpedo may appear. The unfortunate part of this was that no one knew if the ship was in the area, and if it was, if it intended on attacking the battleship. It was obvious to everyone that the torpedoes were fairly ineffective towards the battleship's hull. Clearly, its weaponry was intended for less armored ships. This further supported the theory that the Minnesotan freighter had been sunk intentionally.
Likewise with Mikhel, Rodrick was well prepared to attack and had his eyes focused on his screen. Much of the weapon crew wasn't as focused.
Very swiftly, Elijah pulled up a watch and lowered his eyebrows. He then returned to the bridge. “It should be about time...”
Once more, the WN Madison was closing onto the the massive iron source. They had come very close to it the previous day, but were stopped just before reaching it. Even when under such a predicament, the crew was still curious to see if the iron was visible to the naked eye.
Elijah quickly stepped into the bridge and took position in his chair, “Alright, keep your eyes pealed...”
Part of the plan was to lure the submarine into the source of iron, as this was considered very shallow water. If the plan went correctly, the submarine would need to raise itself or come to a full stop. Either circumstance would prove to them that a submarine was the cause of their dilemma.


And once more, from a fair distance behind, the submerged vessel trailed the WN Madison. The captain was once more focused on the attack periscope. No hesitation was being put into their decision to attack, regardless of the fair distance between the ships. The previous day demonstrated that the battleship wouldn't defend itself, and the captain was expecting much of the same today.
“Target set.”
The tube loader nodded to the weapon officer, who then snapped her fingers, “Tube ready.”
“Fire!”



Seconds went by. What the crew of the WN Madison didn't consider, was that the torpedo would need time to surface, thus, it wouldn't be spotted immediately. This was an issue that was destined to escalate their situation.
Mikhel's eyes remained perfectly planted on the radar, and at a single moment, the slightest red dot appeared from the rear. Hardly bright enough for anyone to see, but Mikhel caught it.
“Torpedo launched from sector 42.0547° N, 72.7708°!”
Elijah swung his fist forward, “Evasive action! Fire tomahawk at spoken coordinates!”
Rodrick immediately swat his fist down on the missile launch button. Rather than trying to hit the torpedo, the plan was to try and hit the location of the torpedo launch in hopes of hitting the submarine. Dodging the torpedo was the second objective.
A silo opened up, followed by the bright orange flare of the rocket igniting. A thin missile was ejected out of the silo and into the air, on its way to the coordinates.


The captain of the submerged vessel grunted loudly, “Shoot! We've been compromised!”
“Dive down, sir?”
“No point, we're already too low.”
The tomahawk flew far back, then quickly took a dive. Much of the Wisconsin crew was examining where the tomahawk would land, as this would give them a good estimation of how close the submarine is. But this was where the radar delay hurt the Wisconsinite crew. They didn't, despite their beliefs, have the absolute correct coordinates. The coordinates entered were simply where the torpedo had first surfaced—not where it was launched.
The tomahawk landed in the water, just nearly hitting the submarine in the process. Regardless, it exploded and left the entire vessel shaking.
The captain briefly panicked with his crew, then stood back up after the shaking ceased.
“Damage report!?”
“It was a miss, sir.”


Despite their attempt to evade the torpedo, it seemed as though the day was quickly beginning to repeat itself. Yet again, the torpedo had managed to strike the stern, but fortunately put a less devastating hit than last time.
Elijah grunted and raised his head up, “Pearl, wha-”
The woman was already down in the propeller room with her things, “Punched in again, no propeller damage, no leaks, no hole.”
The captain exhaled in relief, “Okay, next question: Did we hit them?”
Rodrick shrugged to himself, “Perhaps its time to pass through the iron-”
“Second torpedo!” Mikhel relayed.
Elijah slammed his fists down and grunted, “This is tricky!”
The navigator turned with a concerned look, “Should we turn for Wisconsin again?”
Several glances were exchanged in the room. It was obvious that they had no way of stopping the vessel while submerged, so their hands were tied. It was either retreat or test the enemy captain's knowledge on naval warfare by moving into shallow water—where the submarine would need to make a decision.
“No, onward into the iron deposit.”
Pearl was bashing the damaged wall back into place with all her might, and it was only then that she recognized a minuscule sized hole that had been ruptured. While this hole would never be effective enough to flood the room, she realized that this indicated a weakness in the wall. Another hit, and she'd have another situation on her hand.
“Sir, what-”
“Pearl, get back if there's no damage. There's another torpedo en route to your location.”
The engineer's eyes widened and looked back and forth between the hallway and the small hole. She gulped, but nodded.
“Aye, sir...”
Elijah stood up and cracked his knuckles, “Alright, everyone. We're gonna bleed through one more hit. If we're hit a third time, we may need to retreat to Massachusetts for emergency repairs.”
Mikhel widened his eyes, “But Massachusetts may be the enemy!”
“Massachusetts and Connecticut have no communication devices on their islands. It's improbable that they've been in contact with the Sawyer Alliance.”
Mikhel nodded, then cringed, “Brace for impact!”
Rather than retreating to the quarters, Pearl remained knelt down in the hallway, expecting that this hit would go for the stern once again. She was plugging her ears nervously, then all at once, both fell down and had a ringing deafen her. The ship rocked intensely for a moment, and as expected by her, water had quickly begun to fill the bottom section of the ship. She looked up and grit her teeth, again, no propeller damage. But the hole that was once minuscule had now become medium size again. Ironically, in the exact same area as the previous day.
“Medium damage, medium flooding.”
Elijah spun his chair around and faced the navigators, “How long until we're in shallow water?”
“Thirty seconds!”
Mikhel constantly looked left to right on his screen in search of a third torpedo, but there was the usual hesitation between launches. This time, Pearl ignored the punched in wall and simply welded the hole up. All this meant was that she'd need to fix it completely later. And of course, this left the wall especially vulnerable to a third attack.
“We're in shallow water, sir.”
Though it was impossible to see from the bridge, indeed, only meters from the bottom of the battleship was the tall landmass that was supposedly made of iron ore. From this position, the submarine would be unable to pursue them without raising the ship up to the surface, as doing otherwise would result in a crash.
Elijah held his hand up with an order to halt the ship, and so the ship came to an immediate stop. Pearl had already stopped the flooding, but now had the issue of a thick watery floor. Mikhel was still alert for incoming torpedoes, and Rodrick was on standby with tomahawk missiles. But there was an upside to their position. Since the submarine couldn't stalk them, they now had the availability of intercepting torpedoes with the main weapon batteries.
The massive cannons turned left as the ship repositioned itself over the iron deposit, ready for any form of attack to occur.
With a smirk, Elijah commented, “Come on, show us your cards...”



The captain of the submerged vessel gulped with a nervous expression, his officers appeared just as puzzled.
“Do we fire, sir?”
“No! I mean-” he scratched his head questionably, “I don't-”
“We've landed all our shots so far. We could rise and fire a third one.”
The captain shook negatively while focusing on the main cannons of the battleship, “No, that won't work. They've got their guns set on us. And besides, we can't risk destroying the iron...”
Glances were exchanged throughout the vessel, but in unison, it seemed as though everyone mutually agreed on a solution.



Almost thirty minutes passed with nothing but waiting from the WN Madison, but after so much waiting, the culprit had finally revealed itself. Mikhel widened his eyes and jolted himself up.
“Vessel! Several miles west!”
Elijah widened his eyes and grunted, and without a word, sprinted out of the bridge and onto the deck. Many of the officers were surprised to see their captain move with such pace, clearly indicating how important the mission was to him.
The captain ran up to rail of the ship and swiftly held up a pair of binoculars. The ship was silhouetted due to the far distance, but he had immediately picked up two things.
Firstly, he spotted a conning tower, which proved once and for all that they were dealing with a submarine. Secondly, the ship was heading south-east, so he knew that this wasn't necessarily a northern island it belonged to. He now had a good hunch as to where the submarine was stationed.



“Captain Benedict of Connecticut,” the captain explained the following evening.
Again, Pearl, Mikhel, and Rodrick were at the table with their captain. According to Elijah, this was likely the work of Connecticut's captain—a man who once served as the head of the navy for Connecticut, later betrayed them to command Ontario's submarine, then much later given back his rank as Connecticut's captain. Given that the submarine was sailing toward Connecticut and that Benedict had once familiarized himself with submarines, this was the most likely scenario.
“Did you know him?” asked Pearl.
“No, I wasn't a high ranking officer at the time. All I know is that he's very experienced in naval warfare, but a type of warfare we're not accustomed to. He is likely the only living man to have experience in underwater warfare.”
Mikhel shrugged, “So----o, we just go and attack Connecticut before dawn. They won't-”
“Easy, boy! I could be completely wrong about this, no need to go and lay fire down upon an island that's already struggling so much. For all we know, this could be a misunderstanding.”
Rodrick raised an eyebrow, “A misunderstanding?”
“Sure, they did tail it and run once we put ourselves over the iron. Perhaps their government believes that raiders are coming to take from it.”
“And why can't we ask them about this?”
“Connecticut can't afford telecommunication devices, nor can Massachusetts. The only ways to communicate with their government is either at the Pearl Harbor conference, or a direct meeting with their government.”
Pearl nodded with a dull face, “And we can't get to Connecticut because this guy won't stop blowing us up...”
Elijah stared into Pearl's eyes for several moments, then smirked, “Oh, don't worry. I have a plan, a good plan...”


For the third time, the WN Madison had arrived in the border of Massachusetts and Connecticut. This time, however, the team had a plan of action. They now knew that they were facing a submarine, it was hostile, and used sensitive torpedoes. With all of this information, a very possible victory schematic was now in place. One that would prove to be unorthodox in the beginning.
Elijah, again, found himself standing outside of the bridge. But this time he had a radio up to his ear as he did so.
“Pearl, make sure everyone is on standby, the action's likely about to begin.”
Pearl stood at the railing of the stern along with two crewmen. All three were holding large heavy boxes. “Ready, sir.”
Mikhel scratched his jaw while staring at the radar. They had a plan set, now they had to only hope that the submarine would show up for a third time. Both sides had one victory and defeat now, Elijah was confident that this would be the tie breaking win.
“Hey, Rod, are the radars working optimally down there?”
Rodrick nodded to himself, “Yeah, I think we're ready for the sub.”
Elijah cupped his hand over his chin once more and smirked anxiously, “Alright, that's it. I see the dark water up ahead; we're nearing the iron.”
Mikhel closed his eyes for a moment, “Hope this works...”



And for the third time, the battleship was being trailed by a persistent submarine. The old captain gazed into the attack scope with great concentration and hummed aloud. “These guys just won't quit...”
“Tube ready.”
The captain smirked, then lowered his eyebrows and grunted. Just barely, he could make off the sight of three officers standing over the stern. The captain was considering what this could mean, but ultimately recognized that the battleship would soon be going into shallow water once more if they didn't hurry.
With a nod, he pumped his fist up, “Fire.”
The torpedo launched out of the submerged vessel and raced forward.


Mikhel's eyes continued to scroll around the radar, but mostly toward the rear. This is where the attacks had come from every time. Elijah had become very stiff at that moment, as if he somehow sensed that the torpedo was already coming. He turned toward the bridge with widened eyes, and like destiny, Mikhel had then launched up.
“Torpedo sighted!”
Elijah snapped his fingers, “Alright, you know the drill!”
Pearl turned to her fellow officers and snapped her fingers, “Alright, drop the load!”
The torpedo was on its way, but what the captain had never anticipated, was that the WN Madison may resort to more simple methods of defense. In this case, they were simply taking out the garbage.
Each officer had suddenly begun to toss heavy boxes full of trash filled bags into the water. They had several boxes to throw, and while this wasn't environmentally appropriate, they would certainly clean up their mess in the event of a victory. Essentially, they were creating a minefield of waste.


The captain of the submarine widened his eyes and gasped, then stomped his foot down. “Shoot...”


Both the submarine and torpedo were coming at the many boxes of garbage. The problem was simple. Of the ship and torpedo, one would explode upon hitting a box. Shooting another torpedo right away would be pointless, since the second one would get caught as well.
“Trash deployed, sir!”
And so the torpedo went past several boxes, but soon hit a group of three. As hoped, the torpedo exploded, leaving nothing behind but the smell of fire and garbage. Mikhel beamed and looked up at the captain.
“Torpedo one has been disarmed, sir!”
“Good, now, bring us close to the iron, but not into it. Bring us into slightly shallow water...”
Through the flames smoke of the explosion, the submarine followed the battleship. But alas, they were blinded by the dark smoke and unable to predict where the ship was going. It was already becoming quite possible that the captain would retreat under the circumstances that the WN Madison enters shallow water again, but this wasn't necessarily the case. After coming through the smoke, it was revealed that the battleship was cutting around the iron.
Elijah leaned over Mikhel's shoulder and lowered his eyebrows, “If this works as planned, hopefully, they'll pursue us through this semi-shallow water. Radar should hopefully pick them up if they raise themselves a little bit...”
The submarine was trying desperately to get a lock on the battleship, but it's constant maneuvering of the shallow water zone made this nearly impossible. Eventually, there was no choice. It was either pursue or run away, and the captain of the submarine feared what punishment would arise if he were to let the battleship go scotch free.
They weren't in shallow water, but the ground was still visible. The Wisconsinites had now initiated their plan to lure the hidden ship up.


“Raise the depth,” the captain ordered.
“All the way?”
“No, just so that we can fire off another torpedo.”
The navigation officer of the submarine nodded, then pulled down on the depth lever. All officers exchanged nervous glances, but assumed that they were still far enough underwater not to be seen.


Elijah rubbed his cheeks, “Pearl, what do you see out there?”
The engineer was alone again, as the other crewmen accompanying her had no returned to their stations. There she stood with binoculars, gazing off the stern.
“There's some unusual wave patterns coming from behind, but I can't identify how close the submarine is...” But just as she said this, her eyes had widened. A large dark object could be seen following them from under the water, but she couldn't tell if this was the ship or torpedo. “Wait, I see something!”
Elijah turned to Mikhel, “Torpedo?”
“No, sir.”


The captain of the submarine was trying to properly align the attack periscope with the ship, but alas, could only envision the torpedo scraping through the bottom of the ship. This wasn't good enough.
“I need another foot or two.”
“Sir-”
“They have no idea where we are right now. Another inch won't hurt, just do it...”


Mikhel planted his hands down near his monitor intensely, and within moments, good fortune had come. He gasped and nearly fell out of his chair as a much larger red object had begun to flicker on the screen. The image was very hard to make out, but indeed, he knew this to be that of a ship.
“Rodrick! Vessel spotted 400 meters behind us!”
Rodrick very quickly positioned his target on the map while licking his lips, “Target locked.”



“Target locked.”
The tube loader pushed in another torpedo, closed the lid, then gave the weapons officer a nod, “Tube loaded.”


“Tomahawk, ready!” Rodrick reported.
Elijah fired his finger forward, “Fire!”
The silo above the battleship opened, and a tomahawk missile had officially left the ship with an intended target.


“Tube ready, sir!”
The captain held his hand up, but then gasped loudly at the sight of the incoming missile. Even he knew that this one was dead on for a successful collision. The torpedo was ready, but immediately, a question had been raised. If the missile were to hit the submarine, they would need someone to rescue them. If the torpedo were to hit the battleship and successfully disable it, no one would walk off living. With his final seconds, the officer gulped; but ultimately refrained from issuing the attack order.
The tomahawk flew high up into the air and dove downward. This time the tomahawk was on target. It came crashing down into the water, then ultimately collided with the submarine.
The entire submarine was shaken and now had massive flooding. Everyone panicked as the submarine easily found itself being filled up like a water bottle. There was no question in the captain's next decision.
“Blow ballast! Blow ballast!”
The female officer widened her eyes, “B- but we'll be completely exposed!”
“I'd rather blow up than die by drowning!”



The WN Madison continued moving for several more moments, but then came to a stop after the submarine began to surface. A heavily damaged deep sea diving vessel soon revealed itself, and just as Elijah had expected, the flag of Connecticut was dripping from the front. But this wasn't the flag he was interested in, he was mostly interested by the white flag that was being waved by a desperate crew from the conning tower.


About five minutes later, the small portioned crew of the submarine had been brought aboard via life boats. It was here that armed Wisconsinites escorted the crew of Connecticut to Elijah and his three ranking officers. Elijah and the opposing captain approached one another, and both offered salutes.
“Captain Benedict, you were giving me one Hell of a headache.”
Benedict smirked and closed his eyes, “If only we could have walked off as winners that first day and never meet again...”
Elijah chuckled, “Yeah, you had us that first day. But the thing about tricks is that you figure them out after so long...”
The Connecticut captain removed his hat and took a bow, “I have respect for both you and your incredible navy.” He opened his eyes in shock and tilted his head, “How did you find something thick enough to block our torpedo?”
“Ah, we're very lazy when it comes to taking out the trash. But I have a better question...” Elijah softly glared, “What's going on? What is the meaning of these attacks?”
The captain cleared his throat and stood tall, “We were following orders.”
“Who's orders? Are you working alongside Williamson?”
“No, no, no. We have attacked the Sawyer Alliance as well.”
“Oh?”
With a grim look, the captain shook negatively, “We have been ordered by our government to protect the iron until an agreement is made between the islands of Massachusetts and Connecticut. I assure you, we would not have allowed any of your men to die by our hands.”
Rodrick narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “Then how do you explain the disappearance of the Minnesotan freighter?”
“What freighter?”
Elijah and his three officers all widened their eyes in great surprise. As this was the reason for coming in the first place. Of course, Elijah had to be the one to ask the obvious question.
“There was a freighter going on their routine trade route not long ago, they never returned.”
“There was a hurricane, if I recall. Perhaps-”
Elijah nodded, “So that is the truth. Those poor souls were lost due to weather...”
Pearl scratched her chin curiously, “But why would your government ask you to sink anyone that goes by? How else can ships get through without passage into Massachusetts or Connecticut.”
“That is classified information. I myself do not know.”
Elijah closed his eyes and nodded, “This will definitely be a topic for discussion at the next Pearl Harbor conference...”
The Connecticut officers all appeared nervous, just as the captain removed his gloves and sighed. “I suppose you'll be imprisoning us now for war crimes...”
The Wisconsin captain closed his eyes and sighed, “Well, under the laws of the ocean, I'm obligated to bring you back to Connecticut. We're only allowed to take prisoners of war. But since we are not at war, I must extradite you back to your island.”
The opposing officers all exchanged relieved looks. But of course, there would be the issue of punishment for losing the expensive submarine. In all likeliness, this left Connecticut without a navy. Elijah crossed his arms and smirked.
“I hold no grudge against you nor your crew. I'll let the conference dictate whether I'm angry at Connecticut or not.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The two captains saluted one another yet again before the prisoners were escorted down the hull of the ship.



Finally, the conflict had ended. Mikhel much later found himself strolling down the hallway of the high class quarters. The moon shined brightly over Wisconsin, the battleship was fully repaired and rearmed, and the border of Massachusetts and Connecticut were now secure again. All in all, they had a very risky three days, but they pulled through in the end.
Of course, Mikhel couldn't help but feel bad for one thing. The first day of the conflict, the words Elijah had told him. The more they worked, the less Pearl would work. And she had the most physically challenging job of the entire crew.
For a rare time, Mikhel bravely faced Pearl's already open door and knocked gently.
“Requesting permission to enter.”
“Granted!”
Mikhel walked into the private quarters of Pearl and raised his eyebrows, the woman was lying on her bed with both arms behind her head. The radar officer tugged the collar of his shirt and gave her a strong stare, then nodded strongly.
“I just wanted to stop by and apologize.”
Pearl immediately widened her eyes in surprise and sat up, “Apologize? Apologize for what, Mikhel?”
“We let this problem persist for three days. And two out of three of those days, we put you to constant work. Not only were you working a bad sweat, but you were also forced to work under dangerous conditions.”
The woman smiled and shrugged, “Oh, I knew what I was signing up for.”
“Yeah, but I have a feeling you signed up for this prior to the war...”
Pearl blinked twice at him with the same smile, then glanced down at her legs. Very slightly, she nodded. “This, is true... I kind of thought I'd be fixing minor leaks and replacing pipes. Not saving the lives of everyone on board...” She looked up at him again and smiled, “But, no, really, there's no need to apologize. This was a tough problem, and it's not like you could have done anything to prevent these occurrences, right?”
“No, it wasn't my fault that we couldn't beat them for three days, but Rodrick wasn't at fault, either.” He scratched his arm and stood in a loyal fashion, “We're a team, and as a team, it is our responsibility to ensure that everything is top of the line. I should have stressed the importance of installing sonar the first day, and Rodrick should have requisitioned depth charges. We are all at fault for your hard work.”
Pearl continued to stare at him for a few moments, but she soon shrugged and smirked, “Whatever, you're being way too hard on yourself there. You need to also consider what the navy permits is to spend on. Sonar? Depth charges? Would we ever need that stuff again after today?”
“I suppose you have a point...”
The engineer fell back onto her back and shrugged, “Just get ready for some Sunday night football, and let this day go. There's a reason I receive such a sized paycheck, after all.”
“Alright, sounds like a plan...”
Mikhel turned away and made his way back to the door, Pearl tilted her head with a smile at him. “Oh, however, if you cheese heads beats Minnesota tomorrow, don't you dare brag. Then you might need to think of an apology.”
Mikhel smirked, “Ah, right, you're not even from Wisconsin...”
“I should be thankful to live here. For all we know, I might have been on that freighter, in the event that I pursued a naval career in Minnesota instead.”
She was given a nod before he walked out the door. But these last chilling words caused him to go stiff for a moment and shiver. Pearl was actually a Minnesotan who moved to Wisconsin for opportunities, and clearly, she found herself a new life. Of course, Mikhel was very thankful that this had happened.
Only time would tell whether either alliance would try and take advantage of Connecticut's now non-existent navy. But regardless of what might happen, Elijah fully intended on speaking to the Wisconsin president about their discovery. This, undoubtedly would create conflict at the next Pearl Harbor conference.



NEXT: An Ohio Problem!