Captain andre grimaced as he looked over the smoke filled horizon, horror and depression settling into the back of his mind as his eyes traced the flaming and sinking wrecks of an enemy destroyer group. The flames a strange bluish green, a result of the recently authorised "End of Days" weapons being issued to strike cruisers like his in compliance with the recently authorised total war protocols.
Rain started to lazily fall from the sky as the sun slowly began its descent, the sea turning into a haze of fiery umber and dusky greys amidst the vapour of water. He glanced left to see an allied escort frigate marred by a gash along its belt, caused by a glancing hit from an Anti-Ship missile. The heat jet slagging cut several meteres long running the length of six meters. His eyes flicked to the right, observing an incoming flight of Astoreian F/a-18's returning from chasing down a fleeing enemy vessel, their pylons empty of munitions.
"Captain, we're no longer reading any enemy Naval assets in the A/O, order ship to alert 2 and begin escorting the Pergamonn back to Port Cerberus, a squadron of Harriers will provide air cover and intercept until you reach phase line carmine and leave the theatre," his earpiece crackled to him as Tribune Wilks gave his orders, a sad but triumphant note echoing in his voice.
As the rain picked up and storm clouds closed in, he had one thought before he began issuing orders himself,
'Truely, god weeps this day, only not for us'
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