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The term that Hannie had heard was "naval bombardment."
It was a scary phrase even then - she knew what the words meant individually, and when she tried to picture them together she found herself feeling a little sick. She was expecting something simpler, like... "urban warfare?" Like taking down little squads of sneering masked bad guys with a team of cool superheroes.
She can't see any bad guys.
She can see ships and planes, too far away to reach.
She can see warm-colored flashes of light on the ships.
She believes she can see high-explosive shells twice her size emerging at narrowly subsonic speeds from enormous cold alloy-wrought cannons pointed and fired at her by people too far away and too deep in cover to beat up.
And that's... supposed to be the "fire support?" Doesn't that mean it's just... the anvil? The hammer is somewhere else?

Hannie is finding it difficult to breathe. The other Arms Masters seem so confident and ready. One of them has already taken off. They must be confused. They must not be seeing what she's seeing. Or are they faking it?
[i]Maybe she should just try to relax.[/i]
Kirvella hisses into being almost unbidden, and gives Hannie permission to stop breathing. The air begins to chill. Today the blade is dark and the grip feels like leather.
The ocean air provides plenty of material to create ice, if she can just get cold enough, and there might be a chance that that ice can be made solid enough to block those shells. If she can just get cold enough.
[i]If she can relax.[/i]
Or it'll shatter like it's not there at all, letting the bombardment plunge right through on top of her. That can happen too.
[i]She'll be fine.[/i]