Operation first strike

The ocean exploded in fire and fury as jet engines roared overhead. F-35Cs and F/A-18 Super Hornets launched from the USS Valkyrie's deck, their afterburners blazing against the night sky. Pilots adjusted their helmets, HUDs lighting up with incoming enemy signatures—unidentified aircraft of unknown design, maneuvering with unnatural agility.

"Viper One, Fox Three!" a pilot called out as an AIM-120 AMRAAM streaked toward an alien craft. The missile flew true, but as it neared the target, its warhead failed to detonate. Instead, the missile glanced off the alien craft's hull, as if absorbed by an unseen force. The enemy fighter barely flinched, its shields distorting the missile's impact. "Damn it! The AMRAAM didn't even scratch it! They're manipulating our warheads or nullifying the fuses!"

"Switch to Sidewinders and manual tracking!" the squadron leader ordered. "If that fails, go guns hot!"

Another pilot locked on with an AIM-9 Sidewinder, its infrared seeker tracking the enemy's heat signature. "Viper Two, Fox Two!" The missile launched, spiraling toward the target. The alien craft attempted to evade, but the Sidewinder adjusted, closing in fast. Just as it was about to strike, the alien fighter executed an impossible maneuver, pivoting almost instantaneously, causing the missile to narrowly miss before it detonated harmlessly in the distance.

"These bastards are moving like nothing I've ever seen! How the hell do you dogfight something that bends physics?" a pilot shouted over the comms.

"If missiles won't do it, get in close! Guns, now!" the squadron leader ordered.

Vulcan cannons erupted, sending streams of 20mm rounds into the air. Some pilots switched to their aircraft's internal cannons, manually aiming as they got within visual range. The tracers slammed into enemy fighters, their shields shimmering violently under the kinetic onslaught. One enemy fighter took a concentrated burst, its shield flickering before rounds finally punched through. It spiraled out of control before exploding in a bright flash.

"Splash one! Their shields can only take so much kinetic impact!" Viper One called out.

Below, the naval fleet braced for engagement. Crews rushed to their stations, finalizing weapons checks and securing bulkheads. The distinct roar of missile launches filled the air as destroyers and cruisers unleashed volleys of defensive fire. Phalanx CIWS turrets spun to life, their autocannons spewing tungsten rounds into the sky, tracing paths of destruction against the incoming threats. Radar operators barked rapid updates, their screens a chaotic mess of hostile signatures. The sky and sea became a chaotic battleground of fire and steel, with every ship fighting to hold the line.

Aboard the USS Valkyrie, Admiral Graves braced himself as the first wave of enemy projectiles rained down upon the fleet. Without warning, a brilliant blue beam cut through the night sky, appearing as if from nowhere. The energy lance struck the USS Sentinel amidships, slicing through its superstructure with surgical precision before a chain of explosions erupted from within. Another blast seared across the USS Thunderbolt's hull, melting armor plating and sending gouts of steam into the air. The fleet scrambled to react, alarms blaring as damage control teams raced to contain the devastation.

Then, from beyond the horizon, a massive silhouette emerged—a colossal alien warship, easily 300 meters long, gliding forward like a phantom of steel and energy. Its sleek, angular hull shimmered under the moonlight, and an eerie hum resonated across the ocean. Suddenly, a brilliant blue laser lanced out of nowhere, carving through the darkness with terrifying precision. The weapon struck with devastating force, cutting through its target in a single, searing instant. As the residual energy dissipated, the alien warship's hum dulled slightly—it was on cooldown, recovering from the immense power discharge, buying the fleet a brief window to react.

Nearby vessels took evasive action, their crews scrambling to keep formation as damage control teams rushed to contain the infernos spreading across multiple decks. On the bridge of the USS Valkyrie, Admiral Graves gripped the edge of the command table, his eyes locked onto the tactical display.

"Admiral, new contact! Massive enemy vessel sighted, bearing 090 degrees! It's closing fast!" a radar officer reported urgently, his voice edged with tension.

"Size? Configuration?" Graves demanded.

The officer's fingers flew across his console. "Approximately 300 meters long, unknown composition, but it's massive. Moving at a steady 30 knots. Sir, it's unlike anything we've encountered before."

"Goddamn it," Graves muttered, rubbing his temple before switching to the fleet-wide channel. "All ships, shift fire priority! Target that behemoth before it gets within optimal range!"

"Aye, sir!" came the collective response as the fleet adjusted its formation. The USS Defiant's main battery rotated to face the new threat, while destroyers lined up their missile tubes for a full salvo. Meanwhile, carrier flight decks bustled with activity as ground crews rushed to rearm returning aircraft. The next strike had to count.

Across the fleet, orders were relayed with rapid precision. Vice Admiral Graves activated the fleet-wide channel, his voice steady despite the chaos. "All ships, status update! Damage reports and combat effectiveness, now!"

One by one, ship captains and officers responded.

"USS Defiant, all systems operational. Engaging the target now."

"USS Thunderbolt, sustained heavy damage, but weapons are still hot. Torpedo tubes firing."

"USS Sentinel is lost, sir! The crew is abandoning ship!"

Graves gritted his teeth. "Understood. Continue the engagement. Keep the pressure on that warship!"

Onboard each vessel, crews worked tirelessly. Destroyers and cruisers adjusted their firing solutions, locking onto the massive alien ship. The deafening roar of 127mm naval guns erupted as salvos of solid shells cut through the night. Railgun platforms charged, sending hypervelocity rounds screaming across the sky, slamming into the alien hull with devastating force. Even the damaged USS Thunderbolt refused to stand down, launching a full spread of torpedoes at the submerged threats below. The USS Ripper, positioned on the fleet's flank, opened fire with its main guns, sending a fresh volley of armor-piercing shells into the enemy warship's hull. Damage control teams raced against time, sealing off breached compartments and extinguishing fires as officers shouted commands over blaring alarms.

In the skies above, fighter jets continued their relentless assault. Pilots called out maneuvers and missile launches, their voices filled with urgency. The fleet was battered but not broken, and as long as their weapons could fire, they would not retreat.

"Viper One, tally bandit! Engaging!" a pilot called out, banking hard to avoid incoming plasma fire.

"Fox Two!" another pilot announced as a Sidewinder missile spiraled toward an alien fighter. The enemy craft rolled unnaturally, dodging the missile with inhuman precision.

"Damn it, they're too fast!"

"Stay on them! We need to keep them off the fleet!"

Above the battle, AWACS aircraft relayed target data to the fighters, coordinating intercepts. ECM aircraft deployed countermeasures, attempting to disrupt enemy targeting systems.

On the deck of the USS Valkyrie, flight crews scrambled to rearm and refuel returning aircraft, sweat dripping as they worked against the clock.

"Valkyrie, we need more birds in the sky now!" the squadron leader barked over comms.

"We're doing everything we can! Get those jets back on deck fast!"

The battle raged on, the air war as brutal as the engagement below. High above the battlefield, the AWACS aircraft monitored the situation, its powerful radar sweeping the sky. Then, an anomaly appeared—something on the alien vessel began to glow, its intensity building rapidly. "Valkyrie, this is Eagle Eye! We've got a strange energy signature forming on the enemy ship. It's charging something!" the AWACS operator warned over comms. Pilots adjusted their flight paths, bracing for whatever was about to come next.

The response was immediate. The Pacific Naval Command's fleet unleashed a blistering counterattack. Harpoon and LRASM missiles streaked toward the enemy vessels, their warheads seeking to punch through the mysterious alien hulls. Meanwhile, in the skies above, F-35Cs and F/A-18s coordinated their attack runs. "Viper Squadron, focus fire on that glowing section!" a pilot called out. Missiles streaked toward the target, but as they neared, the alien ship's shields flared, dispersing the energy upon impact. "Negative effect! Their defenses are holding!"

AWACS operators continued feeding new targeting data. "Eagle Eye to all units, the enemy vessel's energy signature is fluctuating. We may have a brief opening between cycles!"

"Copy that! Weapons free! Hit it with everything you've got!" the squadron leader ordered. Sidewinders and gunfire tore through the air, seeking any vulnerability. At the same time, standard missiles flared as they climbed to intercept incoming threats, while CIWS turrets blazed, sending a hail of tungsten rounds into the sky, holding the defensive The fleet's perspective shifted as the battle intensified. From the bridge of the USS Valkyrie, Admiral Graves watched the chaos unfold, his grip tightening on the console. The tactical display flickered with new enemy signatures, the alien vessels maneuvering in unpredictable patterns. "All ships, maintain formation! Prioritize fire on that capital ship before it fully recovers!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the din of alarms and status reports. The fleet's guns roared once more, determined to bring the alien warship down before it could unleash another devastating strike.

The alien vessel's weapon systems cycled rapidly, and before the fleet could react, another brilliant blue laser lanced out. This time, the beam struck the USS Defiant, slicing clean through its hull like a hot knife through butter. The searing energy punched through multiple decks before continuing on its trajectory—directly into the USS Independence. The second ship was caught off guard, its superstructure erupting in a fiery explosion as the residual energy tore through critical compartments. Damage control teams scrambled to contain the chaos, but the brutal efficiency of the alien weapon left both vessels in dire straits.

Vice Admiral Graves braced himself against the command table as the shockwave from the explosion sent tremors through the USS Valkyrie. Overhead, bridge lights flickered while the comms erupted with frantic reports.

"USS Defiant has been hit! Severe structural damage! They're losing power!" an officer called out, his voice strained with urgency.

"Independence just took a direct hit! Fires spreading on multiple decks! Damage control is trying to contain it, but she's listing!" another report came through.

Graves clenched his fists. "Get me a direct line to Defiant and Independence, now! We need status reports!"

The communications officer worked swiftly, but only static filled the channel. "Sir, I'm not getting a response from Defiant. Their systems might be down. Independence is still transmitting, but it's weak."

Graves exhaled sharply. "Damn it! Helm, bring us to flank speed. We need to cover their retreat!" He turned to his weapons officer. "All forward batteries, focus fire on that alien bastard! Hit it with everything we've got!"

The fleet roared back in defiance. Massive plumes of fire and steel erupted as railguns and cruise missiles were unleashed at the alien warship, desperate to buy time for their crippled comrades. The battle was far from over, and the vice admiral knew one thing: they would fight until the last shell was spent.

The fleet roared back in defiance. Massive plumes of fire and steel erupted as railguns and cruise missiles were unleashed at the alien warship, desperate to buy time for their crippled comrades. The battle was far from over, and the vice admiral knew one thing: they would fight until the last shell was spent.

Suddenly, the alien warship shifted its aim. Instead of finishing off the wounded USS Defiant, its main weapon adjusted course, tracking something else. A split second later, one of its pursuing fighter craft exploded mid-air, struck by an unseen force. Confusion rippled through the American fleet as sensors struggled to identify the source of the attack. 

"What the hell just happened?" a CIC officer called out.

Before anyone could answer, a new series of radar contacts emerged from the east. Dozens of them. Moments later, streaks of missile fire lanced through the sky, slamming into the alien warship's shields. The sheer volume of incoming projectiles forced the vessel into evasive maneuvers, its glowing weapon systems flickering as it tried to respond. 

"New contacts confirmed!" an officer reported. "Multiple warships inbound—identifying now!" 

Vice Admiral Graves watched the tactical display as the new fleet signatures resolved: Chinese warships, their formation tight and disciplined, advancing into the fray. Their lead vessels unleashed another salvo of long-range anti-ship missiles, forcing the alien warship to divert even more energy to its defenses.

"I'll be damned," Graves muttered. "They're here."

The alien ship hesitated. For the first time, it seemed aware that it was outnumbered. Its shields flared under the relentless barrage, and its engines brightened as it shifted course, turning away from the engagement. 

"Admiral, they're retreating!" the sensor officer confirmed. "The alien ship is pulling back!"

The tension in the CIC didn't ease, but there was a momentary sense of relief. They had survived—barely. 

A new transmission crackled over the radio, breaking through the residual static of battle. The voice on the other end was calm, precise. 

"This is Admiral Zheng of the Eastern Pacific Fleet. Vice Admiral Graves, I believe you could use some assistance."

Graves exhaled, straightening. "Admiral Zheng, you have impeccable timing. Welcome to the fight."

The battle was over, but the

 war had only just begun.