[hider=The Battle of Triton Island]
The bridge made no noise as the fleet approached the island. Officers at the front fixated on their screens and needed focus. Passive boredom gripped most, though none dared challenge the admiral's orders. The captain himself stood at attention on deck, uneasily rigid since passing Cam Ranh Bay.

Privates Dayang Tengku and Mali Wattana situated themselves well into the corner behind him. Their military attire didn't match their demeanor. Dayang's knees locked up after standing too long and no longer supported her weight. She leaned against the wall, trying her best to maintain professionalism. Mali held out but would clearly follow her compatriot. She distracted herself by surveying the myriad of flags surrounding them: naval but also multinational. The bicolors of Indonesia occupied the forefront, as the archipelago nation sponsored the fleet's main contingent. The right flank bore Dayang's Malay flag; the left, that of Mali's Royal Thai Navy. The admiral, the two ladies, and the primary communications apparatus were all collected in this single room. She closed her eyes and spoke a few words. Nobody could understand her; nobody spoke Thai on board.

A shrill announcement broke the silence: "Contact, bearing zero-one-" The respective screen went blank. "Zero-one-five. Connection cut with our Lapan."

"Recognized." Admiral Jusuf Wibowo manned the comms personally. "Battle stations. We've caught the Chinese eye; they may engage us momentarily. Let's refute their claim to these waters with the hulls of their sunken ships. Obey your captains' commands, and we'll survive. God is on our side, gentlemen. Admiral out."

Mali whispered to Dayang in English. "What did he say?"

Dayang smiled. "Have your Noble Arm ready; we'll be fine."

The bridge returned to silence, palpable tension filling the room, as the admiral dialed in the Đồng Hới airbase. "You have the signal?"

"Heading to position," responded the receiver.

"Air-to-surface combat authorized," stated the admiral. "Best of fortunes."

"Copy," voiced the radio.

The admiral pulled out his binoculars and peered outward. Several dozen fighters hovered above then suddenly dipped below the horizon. "Evasive countermeasures, all ships," the admiral called out, pointing to Mali. "Forcefield."

Dayang volunteered herself. "Is there anything I can do to-"

"Shut up," the admiral interrupted, turning elsewhere. "Do we have readings on the PLA fleet?"

"We do," responded his subordinate.

"Initial salvo to those coordinates."

The roar of missiles momentarily drowned out all other sounds, and the vessel turned to starboard. The Chinese missiles followed the curvature of the earth and soon peeked over the horizon. The vessels' flak spewed to counter the missiles, which erupted in a cloud of harmless smoke. A few stragglers passed through the vapors and made contact with the vanguard. Two managed to reach the capital ship, and would have pierced the hull had they not exploded slightly out of distance. Private Wattana breathed a sigh of relief, the butt of a ghostly M1 Garand tucked neatly against her shoulder.

Jusuf Wibowo gave a brief nod to the loss of fine sailors and craft; he afforded no more. The joint ASEAN fleet now faced opposite its original trajectory. "Did ours hit?" he asked the microphone.

"Too blurry to tell; I think the exchange was about even," came the reply.

"Multiple hostile submarines approaching on our sonar." The sergeant had been quiet until her duty demanded.

"How many?"

The sergeant's frantic eyes perused the relay. "I count ten."

"Depth charges," the admiral commanded.

The muffled sound of a hundred bursts underwater was an odd cacophony, and the crew rocked gently from side to side. "What's left?" asked the admiral.

"Three, sir."

Jusuf pointed to Private Tengku. "Get over to that sonar and use your Arm." He signaled the fleet over the inter-comm. "Prepare another missile salvo."

The newly-arrived Indonesian air force from Vietnam shrieked overhead. They had flown at high altitude, but their recent descent bought them speed, and they now sallied forth to aid their naval comrades. Dayang squeezed past the computers to the sonar station. The sergeant pointed out the targets in question, and Dayang nodded in affirmation. 

Private Tengku summoned a pump of Greek Fire, closing her eyes and operating it with her mind. She placed a palm on her chest, then gripped the covering fabric tightly. She dropped to her knees and cradled her skull. After a few seconds' whimper, she let out a ghastly scream.

The admiral's sharp staccato pierced its way through the blunt sound of agony and demanded attention. "The coordinates are updated; launch now!"

"Admiral; enemy missiles arriving! Fifteen seconds away!" shouted an officer.

"Fire decoys!"

Projectiles met each other in the sky. In the distance, bubbles and steam rose from the ocean. The fury of war raged intensely for a solid minute, punctuated by a large underwater explosion. The fleet lifted under the newfound wave. Dayang moved to a new target.

The admiral collected his composure. "What are our casualties?"

"Significantly higher than last time. Still calculating."

The admiral shook his head. "We can't absorb another round of missiles. Round up any survivors; we're getting out of here."

The air force liaison sounded on the speakers. "Enemy bogeys are pulling back. Permission to pursue?"
The admiral was shocked but resolute. "Negative. You don't have the fuel. You are authorized to bomb the Triton Island targets we discussed, then to return to base."

"Copy."

Private Tengku lay on the deck, her voice too exhausted to scream. Soon a submarine surfaced above the waters. Its front hull glowed red. Its hatch popped open, and sailors threw themselves into the seas below.

Mali put a hand on Dayang's shoulder, and the Dayak girl snapped out of her trance. The submarine stopped glowing. "Is it over?" Dayang asked.

Mali smiled and gazed off in the distance. The landmass there erupted into flame, dust and rubble kicking up in every which direction. "Perhaps?"

The captain approached the admiral. "So, we knew our objectives. Were we successful?"

The admiral shrugged. "I don't live in third person; the history books will decide on our behalf." He gazed at the ceiling. "Nonetheless, we gave our allies an ample window to complete their missions. It's their prerogative to seize it."

[quote]The Battle of Triton Island replaced Operation Praying Mantis as the largest naval engagement since WWII. It was technically a Chinese victory, as Triton Island remained in their hands and sunk slightly more tonnage. However, the subsequent bombing of Triton Island would cause the People's Republic to abandon the base they maintained there due to cost-benefit analysis. Further, the PLA lost modern equipment, while the ASEAN coalition lost mostly its outdated vessels already due for replacement. The battle also forced the Chinese navy to pull back and recuperate a larger portion of its forces, meaning that fewer could be allocated to the invasion of Mischief Reef. In addition, separate raids by joint Malay-Indonesian submarine wolf packs at the same time were able to coordinate significant strikes in the region while the submarine hunters were otherwise preoccupied. Ultimately, the PLA received at best a pyrrhic victory, and at worst a strategic loss.

The Royal Thai Navy withdrew from the conflict with 0/4 destroyers, 5/7 frigates, and 3/6 corvettes.
The Indonesian Navy withdrew with 3/7 frigates and 18/24 corvettes.
The Malaysian Navy withdrew with 5/7 frigates and 3/6 corvettes.
The PLA Navy returned with 1/10 submarines, 13/16 destroyers, 8/14 frigates, and 18/24 corvettes.[/quote][/hider]