Following the fall of the last defensive line, Gangut led the squadron to the Siren Citadel. The three battleships of the "Sevastopol" class, having come to a stop in open water and forming a line, gazed upon the structure at the center of the Mirror Sea. It was a monstrous construction of gray metal—a spire resting on a pyramidal base, rising two hundred meters into the air. Light lavender streaks ran along the walls of the citadel.
The moment had come. The Baltic Fleet squadron, having smashed through all lines of defense like a sledgehammer through a log, stood one step from its goal. In the distance, the sounds of battle continued to rumble—their flagship was still fighting. Paying it no mind and believing in their flagship's victory, the three sisters stood in a line and began training their guns on the key target. The servomotors on their rigging hummed, turning the massive main battery turrets with noticeable effort. First, they found the correct azimuth; then, the gun barrels began to slowly elevate with a quiet buzz of electric motors.
After a few seconds, the guns stopped, and the voices of Poltava and Petropavlovsk rang out:
"Target on the firing line!" they reported, awaiting Gangut's order.
For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. Then, cutting through the cold, heavy air that enveloped them like thick jelly, squeezing their lungs, Gangut spoke. A short exhalation sent a small cloud of steam slowly rising into the sky. A moment later, her voice cut through the surrounding air.
"My sisters!" she began, addressing the entire squadron. "We have reached this place! We have crushed these creatures who dared to come to our home! So let this place become their grave! BATTLESHIPS, FIRE ON THE CITADEL!" A formidable smile appeared on her face, and in the same instant the last letter left her lips, her guns opened fire. Immediately, her sisters did the same.
The guns spoke, and their reports were like thunderous music. Firing sequentially, discharging turrets one by one, sending shell after shell into the Siren fortress, they tore the air with thunderous roars each time.
The silhouettes of the "Sevastopols" were enveloped in clouds of gunpowder gas from the continuous firing, and the gun barrels began to glow with a faint reddish light from the number of shells they were sending into the Siren citadel. It, like the Siren defensive positions, was surrounded by a protective halo, though this one was much more powerful. It managed to partially regenerate even under the impact of twelve-inch shells. Seeing this, the trio of battleships concentrated their fire on individual segments of the halo, hastening its depletion. Gradually, the flashes on the halo from the shell impacts grew dimmer—it was clearly fading.
Seeing this, with an eager smile on her face, Poltava shouted:
"Forward! They're already crumbling! Let's push harder!" she cried with noticeable zeal in her voice.
"If only we don't run out of shells like this," Petropavlovsk muttered skeptically under her breath.
"Full squadron—fire on the citadel!" Gangut commanded immediately.
The cruiser and destroyer guns joined the cannonade, raining a hail of fire and steel upon the citadel. The continuous hail of shells they sent toward the Siren fortress was terrifying. Even the destroyers, whose undoubtedly powerful 130mm guns were at their maximum range, maintained constant fire, continually shaking the shields of the Mirror Sea citadel.
After a couple of minutes, the halo flared with a bright blue flash that pierced through the clouds of fire and smoke, momentarily hiding the silhouette of the fortress, then, as suddenly as it appeared, it dissipated into the air as if it had never existed. Now the avalanche of steel and fire fell upon the citadel's armor.
Another volley of shells struck the citadel's hull and pierced it through. Following the hits, smoke began to stream from under the structure's walls, followed by fire.
In seconds, tongues of flame engulfed the futuristic structure as the battleships' shells, piercing the turret armor—which turned out not to be thick enough—hit their ammunition magazines. A chain reaction began almost instantly, and the small turrets with three guns each, whose power was equivalent to five or six-inch guns, began to blow apart. Some remained in place, but their roofs were burned through by tongues of bright flame.
"Burns well," Petropavlovsk snarled, enjoying the spectacle of destruction unfolding before her, fire in her eyes. "Serves them right!"
Yet even under such blows, the Siren stronghold in the Gulf of Finland continued to stand. Suddenly, bright flashes distorted space at its base, and "gates" surrounded by a rich violet-pink glow tore open in the fabric of the world itself. Through them passed, one after another, black-violet ships that began to slowly but confidently disperse, spreading out from the portals, and with each second, more and more ships appeared.
"The Sirens have decided to crawl out of their hole!" Tallinn hissed with a venomous smile a moment before her guns again spewed fire and steel. "Apparently, they decided to throw all their forces at us!"
"Screw them!" Gangut growled through gritted teeth before adding loudly, "Continue fire on the citadel!"
At that same moment, the general cannonade of shots was momentarily torn by an deafening roar of a broadside that came from somewhere behind them. For a few seconds, the echoes of thunder continued to reverberate from all sides, and all the Kansen of the Baltic Fleet turned their heads back, searching for the source of the sound.
Sovetsky Soyuz stood a few dozen meters behind them, and thin streams of smoke rose from her guns into the sky. At this sight, Gangut smiled with satisfaction.
"Our flagship is with us! Then let us not disgrace the Fleet's honor!" she cried, and her guns fired again, followed by the others. And again, a hail of shells fell upon the citadel, but this time it did not last long.
Under the shells of the Soviet squadron, the outer walls, which had held steadfastly under the continuous onslaught of shells, finally collapsed. The general cannonade was again torn by the deafening report of Soyuz's guns, which roared once more, sending shells into the dying fortification. They found the breach in the fortress's defense and disappeared into its depths. For a second, it was quiet, and then the world shook.
A pillar of white fire, the likes of which none of the present Kansen had ever seen before, rose hundreds of meters into the sky. Its light was so bright that for a few seconds, the sun dimmed against its backdrop. After a few moments, it began to fade, turning into a cloud of fiery red smoke. Then the sound reached the Baltic Fleet squadron—a rumble like that of an erupting volcano, only much louder, and with it came a powerful shockwave that shook all the Kansen and nearly knocked the crippled Chkalov off her feet, had Zheleznyakov not steadied her.
But the fire spread not only upward—the ships that had emerged from the "gates" were consumed by the fiery storm that arose in the collapsing center of the Mirror Sea. In an instant, several dozen Siren ships vanished in the flames.
The next moment, another powerful blow shook the Mirror Sea. It seemed the very sky began to tremble—it "cracked" like a giant glass dome. Lightning of the strangest colors began to strike in all directions from the center of the Mirror Sea, piercing clouds of dark crimson, impossible in the normal world. The discharges shot through them, and the clouds began to disappear, revealing the ordinary earthly sky.
Everyone immediately felt the air temperature change, and the pleasant saltiness of the sea appeared in the air, strikingly different from what had been in the Mirror Sea.
"It's over…" Soyuz exhaled, looking around at everyone and smiling with relief. "We did it. Let's go home, to Leningrad."
******
The ships entered the city well past midnight. The waxing moon shone brightly from the dark night sky, adorned with a pattern of stars like precious gems on a dark cave vault. The cold March wind, blowing from the sea, picked up snow from the streets of the northern capital, which still occasionally fell these days. But despite the late hour, the wind, and the cold, the embankments of Kronstadt and Leningrad were almost completely filled with people.
When the Mirror Sea fell, a radiogram from the fleet was immediately transmitted to the main naval headquarters based in Leningrad. From there, the message was sent to Moscow, where an announcement was being prepared, but they were already too late.
The news had somehow leaked to the people, spreading through Leningrad like a wildfire. Hundreds of people took to the streets, flocking to the embankments. They were presented with a truly unforgettable sight.
The ships proceeded at low speed, no more than ten knots, allowing them to be seen clearly. This was further aided by the fact that, as they approached Kronstadt, all the pennants were illuminated with lights.
Port tugs immediately moved toward them, as the same radiogram had reported heavily damaged ships. Two flashes of light illuminated the dark sky, and two hulls appeared in the water just ahead of the flagship, Sovetsky Soyuz. They belonged to Chkalov and Minsk.
This was necessary so the ships could take their places in the dry docks, preparing for a long repair.
And if Chkalov's damage, while severe, was limited to a foremast shredded to pieces and destroyed gun mounts in the bow, Minsk had fared much worse.
Her bow was crushed and somewhat resembled an accordion. From the bow, along the starboard side of the hull, ran a long crack, as if left by a giant blade that had ripped open the hull like a tin can. Several guns were missing. The top of the superstructure was sheared off, and the mast lay on its side. Part of the first funnel was simply gone.
Of course, others had serious damage as well—some were missing guns or even entire turrets, others had damaged superstructures. Kronstadt's hull, in particular, was riddled with numerous dents, as if the heavy cruiser had been shot at with giant-caliber grapeshot. But the port workers couldn't even imagine what could have mutilated the hulls of a light cruiser and a destroyer so badly.
******
The mooring line was cast off, and immediately after, Soyuz's feet touched the granite pier. Almost instantly, an overwhelming, celebratory roar from the crowd hit her. The soldiers standing guard did not restrain the people who had come to greet the Kansen, having received orders from Admiral Lev Galler to merely maintain order. However, the people themselves didn't push forward too much, limiting themselves to enthusiastic shouts.
Sovetsky Soyuz strode forward, her cane tapping on the stone pavement of the pier. The fleet flagship responded to the joyful crowd with a restrained smile and waved her hand, trying to acknowledge everyone who was greeting her. Dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of people looked at her with reverence and joy. At that moment, she experienced a feeling both strange and pleasant—the feeling that what she was doing was right.
Her smile dimmed slightly, and her gaze dropped. The brief feeling she had experienced at that moment was the final drop she needed. She nodded to herself in confirmation of her thoughts, then raised her eyes to the people. Her voice—the voice of the flagship who had led the squadron to victory—echoed loudly, immediately drowning out the murmur of the crowd:
"Comrades… friends… brothers and sisters!" she began, pausing for a moment, her gaze sweeping over everyone. "Today, the Mirror Sea has fallen—another wall that shielded Leningrad from the rest of the world. We, all of us, contributed to this!" Her cane rose into the air, its shape somewhat resembling a medieval processional cross carried by priests in ancient times. "Therefore, I declare that this is only the beginning! We have shattered the first citadel, and others will follow! We will not stop until our seas are clean of this plague! Hurrah!"
Following her, a thunderous, collective—"Hurrah!"—spread through the crowd. At that moment, she saw a lone Pobeda-brand car stop nearby. Two figures got out, whom Soyuz immediately recognized. The first was Admiral Galler—a man with an elongated face, deep-set, tired eyes from waiting, and a thin mustache. Judging by his face, the last few hours he had clearly been holding on only by willpower, and perhaps sedatives.
The second was a rather short girl who looked like she belonged in high school or the first years of university rather than in a building closed to prying eyes.
She had straight, cream-white hair that reached almost to her waist, and her eyes, which were a grayish-blue color, were mostly hidden by long bangs, with only one eye visible beneath. Her clothing was quite simple—a grayish-blue pinafore dress that reached just above her knees and had long sleeves. A similarly simple vest of the same dark blue color, closed by many knots acting as buttons or a zipper, a light gray scarf around her neck from under which a small hairclip-handkerchief peeked out. On her feet were black tights and low boots.
"Vyborg?" Soyuz said in surprise, recognizing the girl before her. "What are you doing here?"
Leningrad at the start of the war with the Sirens was an unusual place. The city was slowly recovering from the blockade and had even begun to live a full life, but unfortunately, the war ruined everything.
However, there was another point the uninitiated didn't know—at the moment the invasion began, there were three flagships in the city. Among these flagships, besides Soyuz, were Borodino—the last flagship of the Weimar Republic's navy, the Kansen of the German battleship Schleswig-Holstein, whose hull had been handed over to the USSR as reparations, like some other ships. However, unlike most, the girl herself had also moved to the Soviet Union, along with her cousin Hessen. They had become deeply disillusioned with their country and perceived the deportation, as many called the reparations transfer, positively.
The third was Vyborg, the former flagship of the Finnish Navy.
Generally, there were only five more or less maritime nations in the Baltic—Sweden, Finland, Denmark, Germany, and the USSR. However, in terms of armament, the Finnish fleet was last among them, just after the Danish, while the Swedish consistently held the third, bronze place, while the USSR and Germany fought for first place, though the latter often won… Yet, despite this, it was Vyborg—the flagship of the weakest fleet in the Baltic—whom Soyuz respected almost more than anyone else.
While the Danish flagship—Niels Juel—had meekly accepted surrender to Germany (though later trying to break out), and Sverige, despite her quite combative and even eager character, preferred to sit out the war with her sisters, Vyborg was the one who had fought diligently throughout the war against vastly superior forces. And sometimes Soyuz felt awkward looking into the eyes of the little girl whom the entire Baltic Fleet had chased just a couple of years ago.
"Huh?" Vyborg sighed quietly, looking up from the papers on the table before Soyuz and turning to the latter. "Well, while my hull is being refitted, I'm on shore leave, and I decided to dig around here a bit," she pulled out a small piece of paper from somewhere, showing it to Soyuz with childlike innocence on her face. "Tässä, oh, I mean, here, I got myself a pass, and now I'm here."
At that moment, Soyuz's gaze fell on the stack of documents in Vyborg's hands, which she hadn't noticed until now. From the angle Soyuz was looking, she couldn't see the full title, but the words "Actions" and the number 41 spoke volumes.
"You're trying to find something about your sister…" Soyuz said in an empty voice, looking away.
"Yes…" Vyborg nodded with a strained smile. "Ilmarinen, my sister... she died then, in forty-one, on a mine near Hanko Island. It was wartime, so I didn't think much about it then, but when it all ended, I wanted to figure it out. Back home, everyone said it was your mine, well, war and all that," Vyborg sighed, taking out the documents and spreading them on the table next to Soyuz, "but then one day I heard it was a lie. Well, not a lie exactly, they said later that the mine wasn't yours," Vyborg lowered her eyes again, lost in thought. "So now, since I'm in your fleet—I decided to investigate. While on shore leave, I got myself a pass to the archives, and well… I'm looking for anything about it."
"And?" Soyuz asked slowly, in a sad tone, continuing to look at the dejected face of the small coastal defense ship. "Found anything yet?"
"Not really… Nothing much so far," Vyborg sighed sadly, shuffling sheet after sheet. "So far, I've only looked through the actions of your… our, I suppose now, submarines—nothing yet. What about you?" she asked in a completely childish, innocent voice, with the same look in her eyes, looking up from the documents at Soyuz.
"Well, you see," Soyuz gestured to the pile of documents in front of her, "I'm reviewing all the projects the naval commission previously rejected. But," she fell silent, again shuffling through various papers with her hands.
"But?"
"But for some reason, in all this time, I haven't seen a single blueprint—not a project, or even an old copy from Imperial times. I retrieved a couple of documents, copies of which we already have, but others… No Izmails, no Mariyas, not even…" Unexpectedly, the word stuck in her throat as someone's words, stories, and tales she had only heard in passing surfaced in her mind. "Not even any of the battleships. None at all! It's as if someone deliberately stole them."
"Maybe they're somewhere else?" Vyborg asked in an indignant tone, placing her palm on the papers, slightly shifting them. "It's just strange that they're not here at all."
"I thought so too, until I found the documentation for the Sevastopol class and Aurora. If I stay here a bit longer, I'll probably find data on Merkury and Krym," Soyuz hit the table with her fist again. "But no! They're simply not here!"
"Is it really that bad without them?" Vyborg asked after a slight hesitation, sorting through the documents. "Don't we have other… um… projects?"
"Yes, we do," Soyuz drawled, clicking her tongue. "Plenty of them, over there," she pointed to a stack under her right hand. "Nearly a hundred, but what existed in the Imperial era, even if outdated by now, could still strengthen us."
"I see," Vyborg said thoughtfully, putting a finger to her chin. "Well, maybe I can help you if you're still looking for something?"
"That would be nice," Soyuz replied with a smile, straightening to her full height and surveying the hundreds of shelves and cabinets covered in book dust. "Well then, let's get started."
And so, now together, they began sifting through literally tons of papers and documents. After some time, watching the little girl diligently digging through the papers, Soyuz asked:
"Listen, have you ever thought about going back?" she fell silent, then added. "If you were told you could do that right now, would you?"
"What's the point?" Vyborg shrugged, pulling out another stack of documents. "Almost no one I knew back then is left there, and besides," she suddenly grew sad, staring at a point in front of her, "they want to revive Ilmarinen, and then," unexpectedly, a tear glistened in the corner of the Finn's eye, like a precious gem, "using the American-Greek technology, they want to put me under their flag too. Well, so to speak. With the Mississippi sisters it's possible and good, after all they served under the Greek flag for a long time, but I…" she raised her hands, trying to wipe the tears from her face.
"Vyborg," Soyuz whispered, reaching out a hand to comfort the crying girl, "do you really want to go back?"
The girl, wiping away her tears, turned to Soyuz before saying:
"No! No, I don't," she replied in a tone that brooked no argument, then continued quietly, "From now on, I am Vyborg. I decided to walk this path, leaving my past life there, and if my old homeland needed my help so badly that they resorted to such methods—so be it. I don't mind," she looked up at the ceiling, whispering dreamily, "perhaps when the war is over, I will meet my sisters again. So? Shall we get to work?" she added, having calmed down and returning to sorting the documents.
******
"Comrade Admirals, I thank you for coming," Soyuz began as the last person in full uniform, with medals, entered the spacious meeting room.
Fifteen days had passed since the Mirror Sea in the Gulf of Finland fell. All this time, Soyuz had been searching for materials necessary to strengthen the fleet. Now, having prepared a more or less complete dossier, she arrived at the admirals' council, where, besides Admirals Lavchenko and Golovko, were present Admiral Galler, responsible for constructing new vessels for the fleet, Admiral Kuznetsov, current head of the Pacific Fleet, Admiral Platonov, commander of the Northern Fleet, and Admiral Oktyabrsky, commander of the Black Sea Fleet.
"Yes," Filipp Oktyabrsky nodded to her, shuffling the sheets of paper lying before him. "We couldn't ignore your report. Tell me, is it really as you wrote?" he asked with some uncertainty in his voice, then looked up at Soyuz.
The other attendees followed suit, though half of them already knew the answer to this question. Soyuz nodded silently before speaking:
"Correct, it is exactly so. The enemy has forces capable of fighting on equal terms with our strongest Kansen," she fell silent, letting the words hang in the air before announcing to the hall in her voice. "In connection with this, I initiated this meeting. The agenda is the strengthening of our fleet."
"And what are your proposals, Comrade Soyuz?" Nikolai Kuznetsov said coldly. "I read your report. According to it, the most modern heavy ships of our fleet are capable of destroying the strongest Sirens. I advocate for the further production of battleships like you to strengthen all our fleets. As well as the development of new types, for example, as I know, NII-45 has begun working on a project for a small battleship. Lev Mikhailovich, am I mistaken?"
"No, you are correct," Galler nodded, frowning slightly before adding, "but those projects are in the early stages, so we won't see them for at least three years."
"Then we continue to replenish the fleet with ships of projects 23 and 69. Judging by Soyuz's reports, Kronstadt also performed quite worthily."
"Don't rush, Comrade Kuznetsov," declared Admiral Platonov. "The Kansen—including the sisters of Soyuz present here—from my fleet cannot go far from the shores, as they lose air support. And Soyuz's report states that it was the enemy aircraft carrier that complicated the destruction of the strongest Siren in this Mirror Sea."
"Correct," Soyuz agreed. "We are extremely limited by the lack of aerial reconnaissance in the Mirror Seas. If during that same battle in the Gulf of Finland we had at least one Kansen of the aircraft carrier class, the damage to Minsk and Kronstadt could have been avoided. Comrade Galler, the floor is yours."
"Currently, only a few shipyards are capable of building large ships, and at the moment they are almost all occupied," he read from a paper, then looked up and continued, "Molotovsk is currently free. The Leningrad and Kronstadt shipyards are currently working on repairs and likely won't be able to start new projects for another two months. The Riga and Tallinn shipyards can't handle it. Nikolaev is engaged in restoring the battleships Novorossiysk and Feodosiya, but so far they are of little use. The Vladivostok and Komsomolsk-on-Amur shipyards are still busy. The Japanese squadron, which miraculously survived, is there undergoing repairs."
"Unfortunate that everything is so busy," Oktyabrsky said, pursing his lips.
"True," Galler agreed with a nod before continuing, "Measures are being taken to build new shipyards, docks, and slipways, but that takes time," he stopped, reaching for his throat, then took a glass of water standing nearby. "Sorry, my throat is dry."
"It's fine."
"So, Soyuz and I propose gradually building up the strength of our fleet without any particular bias or fanaticism. Over the past few days, Soyuz has discovered quite a few projects that we can, with some minor refinement, put into service within a year or two."
"And what kind of projects are these?" Platonov asked with an interested chuckle in his voice. Kuznetsov and Oktyabrsky said nothing, but their looks showed they shared the Northern Fleet admiral's sentiment.
"Of small ships—these are destroyers of various pre-war and war projects, such as 35, 40, 47, as well as the commissioning of planned destroyers of the 30th and 48th series. Cruisers—completing projects 68, project 28, and projects 69 and 69I; the others require significant refinement."
"In addition, there are plans to build skerry monitors of several types, frigates, large submarine chasers, guard ships, and submarines," Soyuz added. "As for large ships, of capital ships—only four. Three—battlecruisers based on the Sevastopol battleships, a project in three variants, named 'Frunze'. In terms of characteristics, these ships are equal to Kronstadt—slightly inferior in speed but superior in armament. The fourth—project 27, on the same base. Slightly weaker armament compared to Sevastopol, but better armor and ASW."
"Are we going to build knowingly weaker ships?" Kuznetsov stated discontentedly. "Why are we prioritizing these ships over more modern ones?"
"Because," Soyuz suddenly spoke, "it can be done simply faster. This group—four battleships—I propose to be based in the Far East, where we have no representative ships at all except for a couple of cruisers," she turned away from Kuznetsov and turned to Platonov. "Regarding aircraft carriers. I found quite a few projects, but some are simply unrealizable now for a number of reasons—mostly poorly developed. We have only four projects of aircraft-carrying ships that we can implement in the near future. And one of these projects is the conversion of the transport ship Komsomolets."
"And the other three?" Kuznetsov inquired cautiously.
"Ships of projects 69AV, as a heavy carrier, and 71A based on project 68 cruisers as a light carrier, as well as an old aircraft carrier project based on Sevastopol," Galler read out.
Then Soyuz took the floor:
"Besides this, using American-Greek technology, we can commission trophy carriers—the former Zeppelin and Weser. If we do that, we will have six aircraft carriers."
"Comrade Soyuz, are you suggesting we go begging to the Greeks or Americans?" Kuznetsov and Platonov raised their eyebrows questioningly. "You understand, the former are allies of the British, and the latter are potential enemies."
"I am aware of this," Soyuz nodded in agreement, "however, you won't argue that we need this technology to strengthen our fleet. This is not just about aircraft carriers; if we do this—then the Black Sea Fleet will gain two more battleships—and that's the minimum I can recall," she added, looking around at all those present, then closed her eyes and shrugged. "We can simply send a request to the Foreign Ministry to start negotiations on this matter. They will certainly figure out better than us what can be done for this."
"Fair," Galler agreed, and the others present followed suit.
"Ah," Soyuz said suddenly, "and also, let them start negotiations with Germany regarding blueprints. I found data that they were supposed to transfer documentation for the BB 'Bismarck' to us, but didn't. Let them repay the debt," she finished with a slight smile.
******
The discussion lasted several more hours, concluding with the admirals unanimously signing the draft program for the further development of naval forces in general and the commissioning of new Kansen in particular.
Stepping outside and looking at the sky, Soyuz said quietly with a satisfied smile on her face:
"The ice has broken."