The morning sea was calm, as the kingdom's envoy fleet sailed ahead, five large ships, their white sails catching the wind, and their banners rippling from the masts.
The UEN Frigate Horizon moved on their starboard side, it's engines throttled low to match their pace. It felt strange to crawl across the water at that speed, but it was necessary.
Captain (CAPT) Reku didn't want to throw off the formation or make the locals nervous.
He stood on the bridge wing, with binoculars in hand, watching the wooden ships roll through the waves.
Each one looked hand-built, patched and proud, a piece of history still alive. Their crews moved with precision, adjusting sails and ropes with practiced ease.
"Never thought I'd see a fleet like that outside a museum," one of the sailors said behind him, half in awe.
"Look at their guards," another added. "Their armor looks straight out of the Roman Empire."
CAPT Reku didn't turn. "Don't underestimate them," he said.
"Those men kept their seas safe long before we showed up."
The bridge went quiet after that. The calm air carried the smell of salt and tar. Everyone was relaxed, but no one truly comfortable.
They all knew the waters here were uncharted, and unknown seas always had a way of turning bad without warning.
By midday, the sonar operator leaned forward, frowning at the faint lines dancing across the display.
"Sir, minor disturbances at fifty meters depth," he said.
"Could be thermal shift or debris. it's not metallic."
"Copy," CAPT Reku said. "Keep logging it."
The sensors weren't performing well here, the salt content in the water threw the readings off. The wooden hulls ahead didn't help either, the sound reflections of it were a mess.
Then came a signal from the envoy's flagship, flags raised and snapped in the wind.
The Horizon's interpreter read it out loud.
"Unidentified sails ahead!, bearing northwest!."
Reku brought up his binoculars. The sunlight caught dark shapes on the horizon, several ships, smaller and faster than the envoy's eight in total.
"They're closing the distance," his XO reported.
Reku adjusted the focus. The approaching ships fanned out, forming a rough half-circle formation.
Their hulls were dark, their sails stained, and their decks carried odd metal frames.
"Pirates," Reku muttered.
The XO crossed his arms. "From the looks of it their experienced."
"Yeah," Rekus said quietly. "Not amateurs."
The envoy fleet began to shift. The lead ship raised a red-and-gold warning banner. It's Guards on board formed up near the railings with shields in hand.
Reku didn't sound the general alarm. Instead, he raised the internal alert, silent and calm.
The Horizon's crew slipped into position, trained and ready.
The pirates came fast, cutting across the sea. Their ships were rough patched planks, blackened sails, and uneven decks. Some carried strange tubes mounted on the bow, thick metal frames braced by ropes and wooden supports.
"What the hell are those?" the weapons officer asked.
"Looks like mortars sir," someone else said.
Reku narrowed his eyes. "Keep eyes on them."
The distance closed fast.
Without warning, one of the pirate ships lurched sideways as its crew pulled a heavy lever.
A deep thud rolled across the sea, followed by a slow, rising hum.
A bright object arced into the air, spinning. And for a second, everyone just watched. Then it came down hard, slamming into the sea beside one of the envoy escorts.
The explosion threw water higher than the ship masts. The shockwave rolled across the fleet, shaking Horizon's deck.
"Jesus Christ!," someone yelled.
"Perform evasive maneuvers," Reku ordered, voice firm but even.
"All hands to battle stations!. Weapons free, target any confirmed hostile!."
The second shot came seconds later, it hit closer this time. Causing splinters of wood to rained over the kingdom's lead ship.
"Mark their range and reload time," Reku said. "I want Pattern analysis."
The gunnery team moved quick. They didn't need orders repeated. Horizon's stabilizers shifted automatically, holding her steady between the envoy and the attackers.
Through the bridge glass, Reku saw the kingdom's guards bracing with large rectangular shields, standing firm as the next blast sent debris and water spray across their decks.
"Those men are built different," a sailor muttered.
"They're using shields against artillery."
"Courage doesn't care about the century," Reku said.
The pirates were reloading. Slow, clumsy. Crews struggling with ropes and winches to tilt their launchers again.
Reku saw his opening. "Target their center ship. Fire when ready."
The gunner didn't hesitate. The Horizon's main gun open fire with five shots in quick sequence.
Each round hit clean. The first tore through the pirate ship's bow. The second struck the launcher, breaking it in half. For a moment, there was just silence — then the deck went up in a violent chain of explosions.
The fireball lit the sea, it's hull snapping apart like a matchstick.
The other pirate ships froze. A few tried to reload. Most began turning away.
"They're scattering," the XO said.
"Let them," Reku replied.
"We're not chasing. Hold position, guns at the ready."
The crew watched as the burning ship sank, leaving only floating debris and smoke.
The kingdom fleet held formation. Their flagship dipped its banners low in salute, a gesture of gratitude.
"Message from the kingdoms flagship," the comms officer said. "They're retrieving survivors."
Reku nodded. "Maintain overwatch. Deploy drones to mark the wrecks and track stragglers."
Minutes later, a small team brought in debris that had floated near the Horizon. Among it was a twisted piece of metal casing.
"Look at this," one of the technicians said, brushing soot off the surface. "Too smooth for handmade work."
CAPT Reku took it, turning it over in his hand. The metal was scorched, but the edges were precise — machined, not hammered.
"Industrial finish," he said quietly.
"Someone's been supplying them."
The XO frowned.
"You think locals built it?"
"No," Reku replied.
"Not with that precision. This came from someone who knows modern engineering."
By late afternoon, the sea calmed again. The smoke from the burning ships faded into the horizon. But the smell of burnt wood and salt still lingered in the air.
On deck, The Horizon's crew helped tow the damaged kingdom ship closer for medical aid. A few injured sailors were carried aboard, wrapped in soaked cloaks.
The ship's doctor and medics moved quickly, patching wounds and giving water.
Reku stood near the railing, watching the horizon where the pirates had disappeared. Only faint shapes remained.
"They knew what they were doing," he said quietly.
"Then it wasn't random," the XO said.
Reku shook his head. "No. This was a test. Someone wanted to see how we'd react."
Night came slowly. The last of the smoke disappeared as the sun dropped behind the waves.
The convoy reformed, tighter than before. The kingdom ships lit small lanterns at their sterns, the soft gold lights flickering against the dark water.
Horizon matched their speed, staying close but not intrusive. Her running lights glowed faint blue along the hull, a quiet presence in the dark sea.
Inside the ready room, Reku sat at the table, the piece of metal lying in front of him. He ran his thumb along the edge again, then noticed something.. a small mark engraved near the corner.
Not letters, just a symbol.
"Can you make sense of this?" he asked the technician.
The man leaned over. "Doesn't match any known manufacturer code. Could be a crest or emblem."
Reku stared at it for a long moment before slipping it into his pocket.
"Get me a full scan. I want this logged."
He stood, walked back to the bridge, and looked out toward the envoy fleet ahead.
The wooden ships sailed steady again, banners rising and falling with the wind.
Despite the damage, their formation held perfect. Discipline, pride — the kind of order that came from centuries of sailing tradition.
"Hard to tell who's older out here," the XO said quietly beside him.
"Them or the sea."
CAPT Reku gave a faint nod. "They've earned their place on it."
He turned his eyes back toward the horizon. The waves glowed faintly under the moonlight, calm again but never silent.
Somewhere beyond that stillness, he knew, waited whoever had built those weapons.
By midnight, the convoy settled into routine. Watch rotations changed.
The wounded were stable. And reports were logged.
Reku stepped out onto the deck one last time. The air was cool and still. in front of him, the kingdom's ships moved like shadows against the stars.
He leaned on the railing, watching the faint orange glow of wreckage still burning far behind them.
"Sir," the XO said quietly from behind him, "command will want a full report."
"I know," Reku said.
"Send it when the line's clear. Tell them we found evidence of advanced weapon use. With unknown origin."
He paused. "And tell them this ocean isn't as empty as it looks."
The XO nodded and left him there.
Reku looked out at the horizon again, the envoy fleet ahead, the calm sea, and the faint hum of the Horizon's engines below.
This world wasn't as simple as it seemed.
Someone here had knowledge of steel, powder, and precision beyond their age. And now they knew the UEN existed.
He straightened up, glancing one last time toward the royal fleet's banners waving under the moon.
"Let's just hope," he murmured to himself, "that we haven't opened the wrong door."
The Horizon kept its steady course through the dark, the envoy fleet beside them, their sails glowing faint white against the stars. Behind them, the sea carried the wrecks of the day's battle — silent proof that peace, even at sea, never came easy.