"That's a negative, Third Fleet," Conrad replied.
He looked toward the Anchorage side of the tactical picture.
"Anchorage is under hostile occupation by infected. We call them zombies over here."
He almost said zombies from the beginning and left it at that. Then again, he had no idea what the Albians called them.
The other side went silent.
Conrad waited for their response.
A fleet carrying damaged ships and civilians could not keep circling outside Ashington forever. Whatever supplies they had brought with them were still finite, and several of their ships already looked like they needed a proper port more than another week at sea.
The reply eventually returned.
"We know the infected."
Admiral Smith's voice was clearer this time.
"But they are not what forced Third Fleet out of Alban waters."
Conrad's expression changed slightly. That only raised another question.
Smith didn't explain further and instead, continued.
"We intended Anchorage as a fallback position. Third Fleet is carrying civilian evacuees, wounded personnel and several vessels requiring extensive repair. Our stores are also no longer at a level I am willing to ignore."
Conrad looked at the civilian ships buried near the center of the formation.
"However, we do not recall any Golden Eagle military designation inside Ashington."
The Albian formation remained tightly packed on the surface picture.
"Your vessels are unknown to us. Your aircraft are unknown to us. And your designation raises another concern."
Conrad already knew where this was going. "We are not Valerian, that I assure you."
A short silence followed. He could hear several arguments going on over the other side.
The calm eventually returned and the admiral replied.
"That is difficult for us to verify."
"Understandable."
He wasn't going to argue with that.
If Conrad had spent months cut off from the rest of the world before finding an unidentified fleet operating inside an allied country's waters, he wouldn't trust a voice over the radio either.
Especially not when that fleet introduced itself with a name that sounded suspiciously Valerian. However, he knew these people were running out of choices.
The way to Anchorage was fraught with danger, and the way back was even more dangerous.
Their remaining choices were Saicine or continuing eastward.
If the latter was still an option, however, they would have turned east long ago instead of spending several days circling the same waters.
As Conrad waited, the voices on the other side became louder for several seconds.
He couldn't understand everything through the interference, but there were enough overlapping arguments to tell him that the Albians weren't discussing whether they trusted Golden Eagle.
They were discussing whether they had any other choice.
The channel eventually went quiet.
Admiral Smith returned.
"We cannot verify who you are. But this fleet cannot remain at sea indefinitely either."
Another short pause followed.
"We have civilians aboard. We have wounded. Several of my ships require facilities we no longer possess."
His voice hardened slightly.
"Therefore, Third Fleet is prepared to accept Golden Eagle escort to Saicine."
Conrad leaned forward.
"We will keep our fire-control systems inactive and submit to inspection before entering the harbor. Our ships will follow whatever approach corridor you designate."
That was more than Conrad expected.
Smith continued before he could answer.
"In return, our civilians and wounded will be allowed ashore, and your forces will not attempt to seize our vessels or disarm our personnel without cause."
The terms were clear enough. Conrad could work with that.
"We accept your terms."
Conrad brought the waters between Third Fleet and Saicine back onto the main display.
"We'll transmit an approach route. Keep your fire-control systems inactive and follow the escort assigned to you."
"The Third Fleet will comply. You have our deepest thanks, sir."
Conrad muted the external channel and immediately opened the wider Task Force network.
The problem was no longer whether the Albians would cooperate.
Now he had to get them to Saicine without losing half of them along the way.
Third Fleet couldn't simply sail straight south.
The waters around Anchorage were still filled with hostile marine contacts, while several areas farther east had only been surveyed rather than properly cleared.
Conrad's groups already opened safer routes through parts of the coast, but those routes were meant for Golden Eagle Army warships.
It wasn't the same case for damaged foreign vessels packed with countless civilians.
He enlarged the latest sonar and patrol records.
"Route them through our cleared waters. Keep them away from Anchorage."
The order moved through the Task Force.
One of the northern groups began shifting toward the Albian formation while another repositioned farther south to cover the route back toward Saicine.
The Wraiths moved ahead.
Conrad wasn't particularly worried about Third Fleet attacking anymore.
What concerned him more was something large deciding that a slow civilian ship looked easier to eat than a Sentinel.
Saicine received the warning soon afterward.
Medical personnel were placed on standby. Engineers were told to prepare for damaged vessels, while harbor control began reviewing which berths could actually accept the larger ships.
There was another problem.
Third Fleet was too large to dump into the harbor all at once.
Some of the ships would have to remain outside under escort while the most damaged vessels and those carrying the wounded entered first.
Conrad left the exact arrangement to Saicine's harbor personnel. They knew the port better than he did.
Several minutes passed before the Albian formation finally changed.
The escorts moved slowly. The civilian ships near the center adjusted their headings soon afterward.
One by one, the gray markers turned south.
Angel One-One and One-Two remained high above them while Golden Eagle ships began taking positions along the route.
Most of the Albian markers were green now, but that didn't mean Third Fleet trusted the Golden Eagle Army yet.
Their warships stayed wrapped around the civilian vessels, and none of their weapons visibly relaxed beyond what Admiral Smith had promised.
"Still cautious about us?" Conrad leaned back slightly. "Very well, let's give them a warm welcome."
The opportunity came sooner than he expected. Third Fleet could only move as fast as its slowest ships.
Several of the damaged warships still maintained a decent speed, but the civilian vessels near the center were another matter. One passenger ship already struggled to keep formation, forcing the Albian escorts around it to constantly adjust their positions.
Golden Eagle stayed farther out.
The Sentinels remained visible on the surface while the Tritons spread along the convoy's outer routes.
The Wraiths disappeared underneath.
A new contact appeared on the shared sonar picture less than twenty minutes after Third Fleet started south.
"Command, we got one bogey east."
Wraith One reported.
The submarine was part of Conrad's original Saicine sweep. After weeks of fighting through the surrounding waters, it was already at its second star promotion.
Its passive sonar processing was noticeably better than when they first sailed beyond Saicine.
The Third Fleet produced a lot of noise.
Damaged propulsion systems, civilian engines, escorts constantly changing speed, and dozens of screws moving through the same area filled the water with overlapping signatures.
Wraith One separated the new contact from all of it anyway.
The marker was deep and moving quickly.
"It's closing toward convoy center. Engaging," Wraith One reported.
The submarine changed depth and cut across the creature's approach instead of chasing it from behind.
A firing solution appeared across the shared network seconds later.
Then the first heavy torpedo left its tube.
The Albians reacted shortly afterward.
One of their escorts changed course away from the center while another moved closer to the civilian ship being approached.
Their response wasn't slow, but Conrad's ships were faster.
The torpedo crossed much of the distance before Third Fleet finished adjusting its screen.
The biological contact's marker turned sharply downward, then changed direction again as the torpedo followed.
The creature attempted another turn, but the torpedo corrected again and cut across its path instead of following directly behind it.
Seconds later, the two markers met. The explosion distorted the sonar picture.
As the interference died out, the red marker vanished from the map.
"Contact down."
Before the sonar picture fully settled, two more red markers appeared farther south.
The external communication radio buzzed, and Admiral Smith's voice instantly echoed.
"Golden Eagle Army, we have several hostiles approaching. Can you hold them back?"
"Don't worry, Third Fleet." Conrad spoke. "We've got your asses covered."
Wraith Two had already shifted toward the first. Triton Two changed course slightly as the second contact entered its wider search picture.
The same thing happened several more times on the way south. The older ships handled most contacts before Third Fleet had much reason to react.
Some creatures fled as soon as a Wraith moved toward them.
Others kept coming and usually disappeared under torpedoes or ASW missiles long before they reached the Albian formation.
The Third Fleet escorts still reacted whenever another contact appeared, but less and less each time. By the third interception, several of them no longer broke position around the civilian ships.
The Northern Maritime Task Force's vessels were already dealing with it.
By the time Saicine's secured waters appeared ahead, no further contacts reached the convoy.