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Topics - Richard Scepton

Pages: [1]
FanFics / Halo x KanColle what-if
« on: January 31, 2022, 08:19:54 AM »
So, let's put a thunderstorm smack in the middle of some random naval battle and send everyone forwards in time to the Halo setting. In this new world, the year is 2552. It's the Battle for Earth. Everyone is stranded here, but they have no idea, untill some moments later Yukari stumbles across a crashed Pelican.

Conviniently, this one Pelican has coordinates to an abadoned UNSC base, so they head there. There, they get a lot of intel, plenty of fuel, food, and a bunch of other jack.

Sooo, how does things happen?

Victory conditions (any of the below): >Safe return via a second thunderstorm similar to the first

>destruction of the Covenant, and find a new home in this new world

>activation of some random Forerunner portal to return home

>discovery of solid link between KanColle setting and Halo setting

Welcome Center / I'm back bois!!!!
« on: January 30, 2022, 07:09:19 AM »
It's been a while since I last posted, so I'll recap:

I'm not dead (obviously) and I kinda zoned out of this site for a while. I've been doing these odds and ends for a while, mainly a Halo x KanColle crossover fanfic and an RTS mod for Sins of a Solar Empire: Rebellion. All those factors, plus my PC bugging out only a few days ago--has led me back to this site.

I've been lately an amateur anime artist who will accept comissions, as well as an experienced mesh artist who can build a fairly detailed render of a ship if given the proper images. I'll be open once I get the bugger back at full cap.

I've been using a Layered-Up approach to make said posters.

Well, that's all for today.

Think the CorelDraw is back online.

Video / PC Games / Sins of the Abyssals
« on: October 02, 2021, 11:52:05 PM »
Hi folks! After some internal debate I've officially decided to choose Stellaris as the platform for this modification. Originally I intended to have Sins of a Solar Empire, but the whole concept of shipgirls required a change to Stellaris (literal dating sim on the diplomacy???). For many years I have dreamt of a Real Time Strategy game set in the KanColle universe and none have come. Then my friend on Reddit posted his intention for a RTS mod with shipgirls in, and I signed up. LOL.

Ever heard of Longswords dogfighting with Zeroes, or ships fending off Stuka attacks? Well, the bad guys here are all villanized WWII ships/aircraft. LOL. That means actual propellers in space too.
For those who don't understand, I'll simplify. Starships, with fusion torches, fighting ships with propellers, space fighters fighting piston propeller aircraft, in space.

How many memes are gonna come out of this?


For the short term, continue creating the necessary meshes that will be used for the Mod. The primary focus is on the UNSC meshes and the CMA ones (though we've mainly gotten past that stage save for the CMA destroyers/cruisers, plus some Abyssal ones). So you will end up seeing ships such as the Galactica, Atago, Kongo, Suzuya, Fubuki for the CMA, and the battleships/cruisers/destroyers in WWII for the Abyssal ships, plus fighters that run on propellers for the Abyssals. All with their own custom weapons (helical railguns for CMA, coilguns for UNSC, gunpowder bullet guns for Abyssals), strengths, and weaknesses; however it is unknown at this time if it will be possible to add Particle Accelerator Cannons (or as my friend calls it: Particle Lances or PAC) as it is a POWERFUL weapon that is designed to destroy fleets if supercharged and I have yet to see an gun like it in Stellaris thus far, but we will certainly be trying! As the mod progresses we will add more ships to this line-up. Hopefully.


While this mod is very much new, there is actively only TWO people working on this mod and that is myself, and an old friend who is also a lurker on Reddit, plus a tough-as-balls conservative. I am myself a good mesher, and my friend is a good mesh texturer. He also directs a pretty nice chunk of the media releases. Still, we're actively seeking those familiar with Modding within Stellaris for scripting and implementing changes on a large scale as well as other talented mesh artists. Please do reach out and contact me if you'd be interested in helping out!

My thanks to all of you in advance.

Some updates:

Here's the Atago-class heavy cruiser. There's a lot others on the line-up, too.

Welcome Center / Just starting out, seeing if anyone's out there
« on: September 21, 2021, 11:56:39 PM »
I'm a fanfiction writer, since last year. Now, I'm also a video game modder. I also dabble a good tad into manga and anime (which happens to be the main focus of my works). I have a reasonable skill for modelling stuff, however, I absolutely suck at texturing them. I also suck at drawing, however, I can make a decent picture from a 3d render.

I'm working on a few stories. Mainly, these:

Final Frontier (Halo/Kancolle crossover): Active, update rate may slow down

The Panzer Diaries: XXX (coauthoring with Deathvoltz): Upcoming release

Erika: War, Intelligence, Death (Independent, GuP): Temporarily suspended following hectic stuff happening

Mutsuki: a KanColle story (oneshot, coauthoring with Any-Condition-2313): Suspended untill further notice

The Panzer Diaries: United Nations Space Command (independent of Deathvoltz's series, direct sequel to Final Frontier, Sins of the Abyssals novelization): Upcoming release (name may change)

May have more upcoming:)


As of now, I am an active dev on the Sins of the Abyssals team, dedicated to creating a Halo/KanColle/BSG crossover mod for the RTS game Stellaris, with a possible boot to Sins of a Solar Empire in the future. The release is sceduled for the KanColle fall event, though recent stumbling blocks may result in a delay.


Mika Shimada, M808S Scorpion Heavy Main Battle Tank. 501st Armored Division, UNSC Army. Image taken May 25th 2589, recon patron on Caprica.


FanFics / Fanfic: Final Frontier, Halo/KanColle crossover WIP
« on: September 18, 2021, 12:52:50 AM »
Darkness...sleep. Peace.

UNSC Providence. Artermis-class battlecruiser. Flagship. Battlegroup Liberation.

Stirring...something calling for her.

The screams. The shouts. The triple bangs distinctive to MACs. The hiss of plasma torpedoes. The screech of energy bangs of naval coilguns. The roar of Archer missiles. The thunder of Stoski cruise missiles. The thumps of Harpoon short-range missiles.

Return...we need your aid.

Civilian transports destroyed. Ships destroyed. The proud Eagle, Globe, Banner of the UNSC. In shambles. Civillians, brutally murdered. Planets, destroyed, their surfaces hot, marred glass. Entire continents, afire.

Please...return to aid us...

The Eagle never fell. It never gave up. Through decades of war, it persisted. It never withdrew. It struck back a thousand times harder than anyone thought possible. Through it all, It advanced, without falter.

Return! We need your aid!

I have sworn an oath. To preserve, defend, and uphold humanity to the very end. No one can stop me. I shall keep on, shall soldier on, until my dying breath to the void that saw my demise. My loyalties are to my creators, To Humanity I stand.

Please, come back to us, proud warrior of the ocean!

I shall. UNSC Providence, Artermis-class battlecruiser, reporting for action. Where humanity is, I am.

And I shall advance without falter.

Combat Stations.

"Oh man, what the hell?"

The first thing she felt was pain. And sure it hurt. Her head hurt like a damn f**ker. And she didn't know exactly why.

F***, that hurt.

Groaning, she got up from her prone position on the water before trying to stand upright. A jolt of pain caused her to wince slightly, and press her hand to the left side of her head. Feeling the blood dripping down from a nasty gash on her left arm, she let out an audible sigh.

Running a complete systems self-check, she also checked herself manually from top to bottom. Contrany to her earlier expectations, she herself was mostly a-okay, with the only serious injuries being on her upper left thigh, the gash on her arm, and a still-bleeding wound on her left temple that throbbed as if it was caused by a sledgehammer. It was mostly concealed by her officer's hat, but it still throbbed nonetheless.

The same can't be said about her rig.

Most of the armor plating was bent or scorched, with gaping holes torn in some areas and others turned to complete slag. The whole sensor array was bent and twisted out of shape, with some places destroyed completely.

As reports flooded into her bridge(s) and CIC, she coudn't help but sigh. Her long-range FTL sensors were completely gone, and so was her FTL comms array. The maser was offline, and her primary sensors were mostly blown to bits. Most of her situational awareness was liited to auxulliary radar and rangfinder crews on her bridges. She would have to send out a CAP flight soon in short order, one way or the other. Communication was also an issue, with the FTL array gone, she was limited now to old-school radio. Although, she could've easily crafted one herself out of random bits and scraps her fairies could dig up. That, or they could make one themselves.

A ping to her engineering section returned more bad news, the slipspace drive was ruptured and coudn't be started without risking enveloping the whole place in slipspace portal fury. Most of her point-defenses were blown to bits, and her ECM systems had only eleven out of twenty-two emitters functional. The fire control systems for her MAC was offline, though the ranging equipment and auxulliary targeting computers still worked, but her Archer pods and Stoski VLS tubes were both functional and running. So was twelve out of her twenty-two M910 Rampart point-defense guns. A twin-gun close-in weapon system armed with two rotary cannons, it could send a hailstorm of 50mm rounds at anything that got too close with flak rounds at 3,000rpm from each barrel.

Pulling her double MACs out from their mounts on her back, she eyed them curiously. They took a peluciar look compared to the firearms she'd often see. The design itself was a double-barreled rifle similar in design to the ARC-920 light anti-tank coilgun she had in her armories, however it lacked a slot to fit the 25mm rounds and instead lit up at the prongs with a distinct glow, along with a glowing '66' greeting her at the ammo counter.

"Haizz,' sh sighed. "Hal, where are we?"

"Dunno," answered her companion AI. "Best guess is 'in the middle of the ocean'. Not much else. Although, this planet seems to have a breatheable atmosphere and trace signs of industrialization. In terms of mass this planet is quite similar to Earth, with a gravitational force og 0.9975g. Atmospheric composition is–"

"Cut the s**t, Hal. Exactly where are we?"

"Dunno. I could triangulate our position from nearby stars if I'm lucky, but there's no star outta there that is charted. We could be in another galaxy for all I know."


"Though, fretting gets us nowhere. Let's just asses the situation. Once that is done, we can make plans and proceed."

"And find out who mashed my damn head with a sledgehammer," she responded dryly. "It hurts like a motherf****r you know."

Activating the HUD on her eyeglasses, she game mentally the 'go' code for a squandron of F-86B Sabres to launch. The glowing vectored-thrust nozzles screamed as the STOVL craft swung themselves out of the enclosed flight deck, visibly armed with AAM-150 anti-air missiles. The fighters then split up into four trios and went off in the four ways of the compass.

Now free of things to do, she resigned herself to the wait. Lighting a cigaratte with a Zippo lighter, she took a drag, before exhaling. Letting the smoke escape her lungs ans she stared at the direction where one of the fighter wings went, she raised her hand to silehoutte it against the setting sun.

"Damn," she mumured to herself. "That's beautiful."

A ping and a blip on her HUD brought her attention back to reality. The wing sent eastward reported six contacts moving in formation, roughly six miles out from her position. While their course at first glance might seem random, closer examination of their peculiar zigzagging course showed a direct beeline towards her position. Whoever they were, they had clearly saw her and were moving in to investigate.

Strange, she thought.

Based on the blurry onboard camera footage, the leading two contacts were distinctly humanoid, with weapon emplacements scattered here and their like a fleetgirl's rigging, but had a distinctly 'alien' design flair to them. As to top it all off, four of the contacts running a vanguard line bore a distinct resemblance to a shark.

The f**k?

"You f**king serious bro," she mumured, narrowing her eyes at the camera feed. She zoomed in on places, out on others, checked, and double-checked the feed several times, even going as far as to completely reboot her monitor in order to make sure that she wasn't looking at some computer software malfunction. But regardless of whatever she did, the images stayed the same.

"Seriously?" she said to herself. Having given up by now and accepted things as they were, she pressed a button on the side of her eyeglasses.



"Reboot the comms."

"What for?"

"I see for 'sharks' in the distance. And worse, they have torpedo tubes. They're beelining for us as I speak."

"Get your eyes checked."

"I have you donut."

"Get your eyes checked again."

"No clinic."

"Then what about your monitor?"

"Done. Same result. Still there."

"Shichirigahama beach isin't seven shaku long though."


"So what? It's written that way. Whatdaya do?"

"Kujuukurihama ain't ninety-nine shaku long though, as well."

"You seem to know a lot of boring stuff, don't you?"

"You started it, not me."

"Setting that aside," said Halifax, "What shall we do with these 'sharks'? Make some shark fin soup"

"I'll give you a million if you can make shark fin soup out of a torpedo."

"Mmmm. Shark fin soup. Explosives flavor. Dosen't sound that all bad."

"If you mention that one food again I'll throw your AI chip overboard. Start being serious and quit talking on random things for God's sake."

"You started it."

"No, you started it." she said. "I'm throttling up. Hold on to something."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Didn't ask."

A distinct whirring sound enamenated from below as her operational thrusters ignited, blue flames kicking large plumes of steam in the distance as she lunged forward at a steady thirty-three knots. The contacts, having apparently detected her movement, had clearly known that she'd detected them. They had abandoned the zigzagging course they'd been following earlier and instead beelined straight dead at her location.

Let's see how this goes, she thought.

As it turned out, the plan to strike up a relationship with the locals went out the window as soon as she got the chance to try it. She had approached with open arms–or rather, the space equivalent to it. But it did not matter much anyways, for the leading one, upon sighting her, had opened fire with neither warning nor provocation. She cursed internally as she dodged a salvo of fire from the now-confirmed hostiles, a plume of water thrown up from the impact drenching her in saltwater that left her uniform soaked and her wounds screaming in salted agony.

Verdammt,  she thought. How are we supposed to negotiate with this kind of escalation?

Nodding at no one in particular, she drew her energy sword, and promptly sliced apart three artillery shells in quick sucession. A burst of fire from her operational point-defense guns eliminated a salvo of torpedoes headed her way. Adopting a defensive stance, she raised her hand.

"Fire Control, get me a firing solution. Nail them with an Archer barrage, and bring the coilguns around." she ordered. "Fire away, don't hold back."

A clicking sound made itself audible, soon followed by a distinct whirring sound as the four Mark 11 Spree naval coilguns located on her sides rapidly rotated and began tracking the hostiles, the triple 283cm guns angled directly at the enemy. Despite being a strictly secondary weapon for Artemis-class battlecruisers like her, the M26 Spree was by no means weak. Firing garguantuan 110-inch shield-and-armor-piercing high-explosive shells at nearly half the speed of light, the coilgun could easily pierce both the shields and the armor of a CPV-class destroyer and shred it outright. The M58 Archer dual-purpose missile was more of a triple-a-d type of missile, but it was still an incredibly potent missile. Apart from shooting down plasma torpedoes and Seraphs, they still remained capable in an anti-ship role. A swarm of Archers could easily cripple an unshielded CCS-class cruiser outright, or even tear apart an SDV-class corvette, shield and all.

As the fire from the hostiles drew nearer, the blast doors on the missile pods opened up to reveal the armed missiles within, ready to send trails of firey doom at their assigned targets.

A series of red blips appeared on her HUD as the missiles locked onto their targets and the coilguns transversed into position. It was all she needed, as a grin split her face in half, her scary expression directed towards the hostiles. If only her eyes glowed, the scene would be complete.

One swipe of her energy sword accompained her order.


An earsplitting series of relavistic cracks resounded throughout the area as her four triple Mark 11 Spree naval coilguns cracked off their salvo of 283cm shield-and-armor-piercing high-explosive shells, twelve bright golden tracers lighting up the twilight sky as they thundered at their target at four-tenths the speed of light. A heartbeat later, the M58 Archer missiles fired from their pods as well, six hundred trails of rocket exhaust and fire arced over the sea, intent on destroying anything that was dumb enough to challenge their master.

The coilgun salvo hit home.

If the muzzle flash from the hostile's initial salvo was blinding, the electro-magnetoplasma blast from the coilguns made them look like a mere toy. The leading alien was vaporized outright, it's armor providing virtually nonexistent effectivenes against a shield-and-armor-piercing high-explosive shell still trailing the plasma from the electro-plasma coils used to fire it at relavistic speeds. It's companion fared no better than it, a glancing blow pulverising it to the core.

The 'sharks' (as Halifax called them) were obliterated outright, the disruptor-explosive warheads covering them in gravitic shockwaves from spatial disortions as each and every warhead went off, generating large portals similar to black-holes before collapsing, sending shockwaves in every direction. They stood little chance against such overwhelming firepower, especially from warheads meant to defeat Covenant armor and shielding.

It was over as soon as it began.

Lighting a new cigaratte with her Zippo lighter, she moved over towards the last known location of the hostiles. Picking up a fragment of one of the pulverised hostiles, she eyed it curiously.

"Did I go too far?" she mumured.

Most, if not all UNSC ships relied on Titanium-A battleplate, and later, Titanium-A3 battleplate as their primary armor material. Even though it proved to be of limited effectiveness against Covenant plasma weapons, it was still by no means obsolete. A Paris-class heavy frigate could take several plasma torpedo hits and expect to survive, and a Marathon-class heavy cruiser sould withstand dozens. These ships might've as well used wet toilet paper for armor, given their virtually nonexistent armor effectiveness.

A ping on her HUD brought her eyes to it, she clicked the button to bring up the camera feed.

A naval battle unfolded in front of her eyes.

"Goddammit Hal, what am I looking at?" she demanded.

"Dunno. Some kind of surface engagement maybe?"

"Probable. But question is, should we intervene?"

"Your call. But..."

"But what?"

"Active sensors have finished relaying home the general shape and profile of one of the two opposing sides. They match with the ones who tried to attack us earlier." Halifax said, displaying images and sensor data on Providence's HUD. "The other side, I have no idea–though they seem to be of a rather old make. I've complied all the data on their weapon emplacements, they seem to match with the Type 96 light anti-aircraft gun, dual and triple mounts."

This was huge news. On one end, she had figured out that the planet was inhabitated, but she didn't know by whom. The first engagement and the new devenlopments that indicated that there were two opposing sides fighting each other also raised another set of eyebrows–she would have to pick sides carefully if she had to intervene. That the scans indicated that the smaller guns were the Type 96 25mm light anti-aircraft commonly used by Japan for anti-aircraft during World War II, of all times, wasn't helping.

"Halifax, assign targeting data to contacts on sensors, mark them alphabetically and numerically, standard code. Get an Archer lock on each and every of them, try to cover all our bases here. If push comes to shove and we have to engage them all, wire up the missiles to all fire simutaneously." she ordered. Not that she was trying to communicate (she really wanted to), but if the scans were correct and that they were out of date roughly six centuries, she won't even bother, since WWII communications technology was limited to direct line-of-sight only, and even then, nine times out of ten you would have to be in literally pistol range to talk.

"Roger." Halifax responded. "Assigning targeting data, classifying by apparent affilation. Earlier hostiles are marked A-1 through 16, others are marked B-1 through 11. Also, you should see this."

As Halifax spoke, she relayed a series of images to Providence's HUD, which indicated that multiple smaller contacts had emerged from one of the larger. She then proceeded to overlay one of the contacts with any databank entry in her computers, and much to her surprise, came up with a match: Mitsubitshi A6M Zeroes.

The f**k?

As if that was already enough for one day, one of the sixteen hostile craft launched three smaller craft, all making a dead beeline for her. Further imagery examination indicated that they either carried bombs or anti-ship missiles, either of which was bad. Halifax had assigned targeting data to them too, which meant that she could now destroy them at will.

She had initially decided to stay neutral, only fire unless fired upon, but as they entered rage of her point-defense, she switched channels to her bridges and CIC.

"Fire Control, launch the Archers. Target contacts A-1 through 16, AA-1 through 3."

Placing her energy sword back in it's holster, she gave the order.


It's called Final Frontier. There are currently 7 chapters published.

Here is Chapter 1 for everyone:

NOTE: the fic is rated T on the FFFN database i.e. swearing a lot is common, and the like. Proceed at your own risk. I shall not be liable if you find the following content offensive.

Darkness...sleep. Peace.

UNSC Providence. Artermis-class battlecruiser. Flagship. Battlegroup Liberation.

Stirring...something calling for her.

The screams. The shouts. The triple bangs distinctive to MACs. The hiss of plasma torpedoes. The screech of energy bangs of naval coilguns. The roar of Archer missiles. The thunder of Stoski cruise missiles. The thumps of Harpoon short-range missiles.

Return...we need your aid.

Civilian transports destroyed. Ships destroyed. The proud Eagle, Globe, Banner of the UNSC. In shambles. Civillians, brutally murdered. Planets, destroyed, their surfaces hot, marred glass. Entire continents, afire.

Please...return to aid us...

The Eagle never fell. It never gave up. Through decades of war, it persisted. It never withdrew. It struck back a thousand times harder than anyone thought possible. Through it all, It advanced, without falter.

Return! We need your aid!

I have sworn an oath. To preserve, defend, and uphold humanity to the very end. No one can stop me. I shall keep on, shall soldier on, until my dying breath to the void that saw my demise. My loyalties are to my creators, To Humanity I stand.

Please, come back to us, proud warrior of the ocean!

I shall. UNSC Providence, Artermis-class battlecruiser, reporting for action. Where humanity is, I am.

And I shall advance without falter.

Combat Stations.


The first thing she felt upon waking up was pain. And sure it hurt. Her head hurt like a damn *censored*er. And she didn't know exactly why.

Standing up, she patted herself top to bottom. She had no broken bones (obviously). And then reality hit home.

Where's my comrades?

Sending a full self-check through her systems, nothing was good. A ping from to her slipspace drive resulted in an error, her superluminal comms units were offline, her FTL sensors were offline, meaning that she was limited to nothing but short-range active sensors and maser for radar and comms, respectively.

Her comms unit (what's left of it) noted a lack of deep space communication and was only able to pick up high frequency radio waves and low-end band transmissions from the local area, and found no slipspace transmissions, beacon signals, or anything else pointing to UNSC origin. Further raising her suspicions, the signals were encoded in the ancient binary format that had been ditched centuries ago when quantum fluctuation computers were invented.

The fire control systems for her MAC was offline, and so was her torpedo tubes, but her Archer pods and Stoski VLS tubes were both functional and running. So was her Spree coilgun batteries, which were identical to the triple 283mm turrets on the famed German pocket battleship Admiral Graf Spree, but they fired a magnetically accelerated 200 ton projectiles to forty percent the speed of light, being able to completely drain the shields of a CCS-class battlecruiser and deal crippling damage to it in one salvo. She carried thirty such turrets.

Sighing, she checked her sensor systems. She was able to detect multiple contacts a few dozen klicks away, and immediately warmed up the fire control systems for her coilgun batteries and missiles, decades of experience fighting Covvie foes telling her to take no chances. As soon as the targets closed in to a few kilometers, her coilguns turned around and began the process of acquiring targets, her making it clear that if they opened fire, she would delete them from existence immediately.

A flash of smoke and flame coupled with a loud bang prompted her to maneuver sideways, and was followed by the water erupting in a geyser right where she was standing a few seconds before. Her coilguns were designed to hit targets moving at insane speeds, and immediately tracked the enemies. Nodding, she had her coilguns open fire.

If the muzzle flash of the enemy ships was blinding, the flash of the Spree naval coilguns made them seem like toy flashlights in comparison. 200 ton projectiles exited the muzzle at speeds of up to one-hundred and twenty-thousand kilometers per second, the giant sonic boom that resounded was enough to send waves in all directions from the air being suddenly shoved aside violently as the slugs continued on their plank-time trajectory, and even then, they had already turned to plasma from the sheer kinetic energy and friction of the atmosphere, and would appear as a laser beam to the naked eye. The lead alien was vaporized outright, its armor offering literally nonexistent effectiveness against a 200 ton ASPTC shell slung at 40% lightspeed that had already turned to plasma, and was designed to pierce Covenant shields and armor in a single go. The other aliens that were unlucky enough to be in the sights suffered the same fate, simply ceasing to exist altogether as the armor/shield-piercing tungsten-carbide shells turned it to plasma and the sonic and air shockwaves wreaked further havoc as the alien(s) unlucky enough to be in the blast got sent tumbling several hundred feet away to be easy prey for a few hundred Archers launched from one of her many five-pod clusters.

As soon as it began, it was over.

Providence reviewed the results of the fight. Removing her "crossbow", she took out a bolt and loaded it into the weapon. Taking quick aim, she let loose the bolt, which after clearing her, transformed into a wing of Longswords.

They screamed of in the direction of the setting sun, engines screaming as they left.

Checking her sensors, she noticed a second group of contacts not far of.

Let's see how this goes, she thought.

Having her missiles lock on the contacts still over the horizon (the coilguns were flat-line entirely as per their muzzle velocity being several times escape velocity), she ordered the wing of Longswords move off towards the contacts.


"Nothing to report, but sea, sea, sea..." Fubuki said over the COM.

"Amatsukaze here, water also,"

"Kaga, maybe you should launch a recon flight," said Fubuki.

"There's nuthin' here save sea, sea, sea..."

"Roger, launching—"


"What the hell just happened?" Amatsukaze demanded.


"What?" Fubuki yelled in surprise, complete caught off guard by the sudden noises.

Kaga picked herself up from the water.

"It's coming from the distance," she muttered.

"Then launch the flight."

"Roger, launching."


"Now what the *censored*?" Hibiki demanded. Overhead, the noise grew louder and louder and finally turned to a full-blown jet scream as a group of two craft of ungodly size flew overhead. Their dark grey features glimmered in the setting sun, as their manta-ray shape cast a shadow over the water. Dipping a "wing" over the group, they maintained a defensive formation as they made a pass overhead before turning around and making another. Their engines glowed spookily as their intimidating features made Fubuki look twice at them.

Almost on cue, they made a swift one-eighty turn and flew back in the direction that they came from.


I happened to run into a writer's block on my other GuP stories, so I decided to clean this doc up. I wrote this quite a long time ago. I'll be heading back to GuP for a while, but I'll update whenever I have the chance.

Au revior, and 'till next time!

As of this publishing:

Hope you enjoy. And, considering the folk here, yeah. Feel free to comment, review, or whatever. A manga adaption may be quite nice though, but some art of our battlecruiser here is also awesome!

This happens to be my pet project. I am also working on adapting this as a mod for Stellaris (to be more exact, it's sequel).

Here is the link for those who want to read more:


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