Requiem of the Deep IC Thread

Story Post: The Beginning of the End

Lady Darkhound

Haha, tanks!
Location
My very own personal hell
Pronouns
She/Her
Seven days ago, the combined navies of humanity began their assault on the island chain off east Africa. In what would collectively become known as "The Battle of Madagascar," a total of over 500 warships clashed in a four day long battle that ended with the total destruction of the Abyssal fleets and the defeat and execution of the Reunion Island Empress, the last of the Empress-type Abyssals.

Three days ago, mere hours after the fighting off Madagascar ended, a being claiming to be the leader of the Abyssal fleet stepped up and formally surrendered to humanity. All Abyssals who peacefully surrendered would be demilitarized, and the press hoped that they would be fully integrated into humanity in a few years time, though racism would surely last longer. Any who did not willingly surrender were blockaded in their island fortresses. They would either surrender as well, or die in vain attempts at escape. Your island was one of these which were blockaded.

Two days ago, as repairs finished on Abyssals who had fought in the battles off Madagascar, your Princess devised a plan to break the blockade. Every ship's hold was loaded with what supplies it could carry. The plan was simple, in that the fleet would attempt to break the blockade as the sun set, and escape pursuit under cover of darkness. Where to go next would be decided by the Princess after you had either escaped or died trying.

Yesterday, you had enacted the Princess' plan. As the sun approached the horizon, you set out from your island fortress and dove for a weakness in the blockade. Things almost immediately went wrong, as the supposed weak point in the formation had been reinforced by a trio of battlecruisers earlier that day. Seeing that the plan had failed, the Princess gave Impero temporary command of the fleet. Command and the order to run. And then your Princess, alongside the slower battleships in your fleet, and a handful of escorts, turned towards the enemy and acted as a distraction.

Her sacrifice saved your lives, if barely. The three carriers amongst the blockading fleet, while each individually inferior to Iwo Jima, together nearly slaughtered the Abyssal carrier's air wing, though their air wings were depleted as well. The battlecruisers pursued your retreating fleet as night fell, not coming close enough to engage your superior force, but harrying those whom they could. Many of your destroyer and cruiser escorts sank below the 14 and 15 inch guns on the battlecruisers, or were harried by those of the battlecruisers escorts.

Luck, however, seemed to be on your side. A storm brewed up over you as the night went on, shielding you from the hunting battlecruisers. Under Impero's orders, you rode the storm though the night, and it dissipated as the morning sun crested the horizon. As far as you could see, there was nothing but blue ocean and blue skies.

As of this moment, you are alone. Each of you carries enough supplies for a short while, and maybe a minor engagement or two, but not enough to last forever. You need a base of operations. Somewhere to store excess supplies and conduct repairs.

The human steel hulled ships have great difficulty tracking and targeting Abyssal ships. This does not mean that they are not a threat, but are simply less effective than they would be against peer opponents. Missiles still can and have killed foolish Abyssals thinking themselves invincible. The Kanmusu lack this same inability to target Abyssals, and can feed targeting data to a steel hulled ship, making them all the more dangerous.

The last of the Empress-type Abyssals, the Reunion Island Empress, was slain at Madagascar. WIth her loss, there can be no more Abyssals created. You will lack the near infinite numbers that allowed you to prosper in the early days of the war, and with the mass surrenderings, reinforcements will be few. What you have is what you can rely upon having, no more.

Amongst the remnant of your fleet are six I-class destroyers, and a pair of light cruisers; one He-class, and one To-class scout cruiser who identifies herself as "Marblehead."

Game mechanics wise, supplies will be kept track of for the entire group, with a vaguely defined value. At the moment, your Supply Rating is "Low." If this drops to "Empty," you will be unable to do anything unless a poor supply convoy stumbles upon you as you drift.

Damage and repair will be kept similarly vague. There are six levels of damage a ship can have.

Wear and Tear is general attrition damage from operating as a ship. This will stack up if you enter combat, or if you simply go too long without minor repairs and refit being conducted upon your ship.
  • Light damage signifies that your ship had taken some hits in combat. Nothing critical or impairing your ship's ability to fight, but damage nonetheless.
  • Medium damage signifies that the damage from combat is starting to add up. Maybe you've lost a fire director, or suffered a weapons jam. Your combat capability is slightly impaired, though you can still fight on.
  • Heavy damage is major damage. If you do not retreat soon, you may risk being sunk. At this stage, perhaps you've had one or more gun turrets knocked out, or your bridge has been destroyed by fire. You can still fight on if necessary, but it is a risk to your life.
  • Catastrophic damage means you are incapable of fighting any longer. Most everything outside of your citadel has been blasted away, and while you still float, you can no longer maneuver or fight.
  • Sinking/Sunk means that you are dead. There is no coming back from this.

Repairs cost one amount of supplies per level of repair needed. Repairing Wear and Tear damage will cost 1 amount, while repairing Catastrophic will cost 5. Additionally, repairs require specialized personnel or facilities. A repair ship can repair Wear and Tear through Medium damage at sea. This same level of damage can be repairs on dry land with the assistance of any other player's ship for the same amount of supplies. Heavy and Catastrophic damage require the usage of a drydock to enact repairs, and require the assistance of either a pair of other player's characters or the assistance of a repair ship. Repair times will vary depending on how the ship is damaged.
What planes you could get airborne report nothing but ocean within their operating range. The coast is clear, but there is nowhere to conduct proper repairs.

  • Somewhere to the west is Madagascar, the small island fortress you called home, and multiple Kanmusu fleets.
  • To the north is the Arabian Sea, with the Indian and Middle Eastern coastlines. Though shipping lanes are less used with the loss of the Suez Canal, human freighters still pass through this region, and it is decently patrolled by the various Commonwealth navies.
  • To the east is Australia and the South East Asian island chains. While the islands would provide adequate basing, they are very near Australia and Japan, both of which have a strong enough navy to evict you.
  • Nothing but barren wasteland lies south of you. You could go there and survive, but that would be all you did.

@CV12Hornet @Terran Imperium @Ash19256 @Spectre @Zelinko @lelenoi @Blackout @Ethernet_Cable @Sketchy Lurker
 
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Iwo Jima
East of Madagascar


Iwo Jima, Jima to her friends, looked around at the 8 other Abyssal warships that had managed to break away from the Kanmusu blockade. She seethed at their losses, furious that so many of her comrades in arms had died because the rest of the Abyss had betrayed them.

Jima activated her signalling lamps, signalling the rest of the convoy. <"All surviving vessels, sound off and check status.">

Jima grimaced as she checked over her own air wing, mentally tallying up the casualties taken.
 
Bismark


Bismark crossed her arm over her chest, that fucking Kraut bitch was pursuing them but through the superiority of her German blood, they managed to escape and the sacrifice of their Princess, personally Bismark thought it was a stupid decision, they could afford losing ships like her or her fellows but not a Princess. She had a higher strategical value and Bismark would have been glad to give her life for the Princess but orders are orders. There were eight other Abyssal ships with them. Fortunately, she didn't lose her four Arado Ar 196s, they were used for scouting. She recognized Jima who was asking for their status. She answered through her night lamps.

<"Affirmative. Reporting Status. Operational. North. Best Option For Resupplying.">
 
Impero

On the surface, Impero was her usual icy cold self. Inside, however, she was seething, much more so than usual. The asskicking they'd just escaped had that sort of effect. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to turn around and attack the bastards that had just evicted them and killed so many of their comrades. It was an impulse that she had trouble fighting normally.

Ironically, that same asskicking that stoked her rage to heights even she'd been surprised at also acted as a bucket of ice water on her thought processes. Oh, the rage was still there, but there was a lid on it right now, allowing Impero to think rationally. And rationally, the best thing they could do was get away, effect what repairs they could, and live to fight another day. Well. Rationally, what they should do was surrender, but nobody was going to bring up that option.

<"Impero, light damage.">

Where was she? Right, options. Going west is right out, as is going south. The former is suicide, the latter slow suicide with no chance of doing anything. That leaves four island chains to the north and east that might offer them some sanctuary. Christmas Island and the Maldives are too close to India and Australia, respectively; the risk of being quickly discovered is too high. That leaves either the Cocos Islands, or the Chagos Archipelago.

That, in turn, dredges up memories of an Abyssal base on Diego Garcia - a base that had been, ah, forcefully removed at some point. While there's every possibility that the thrice-damned humans have reoccupied the old base, it's one of the best options for secrecy and has the possibility of finding some supplies left behind. The approach much be cautious, but if they're careful enough they can bail and try the Cocos Islands. Hopefully.

Hope. Caution. None of these are things Impero is used to. Aggression, yes. But if it required caution to best wield what is now her personal instrument of vengeance, so be it.
 
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Iwo Jima
East of Madagascar


<"Affirmative. Reporting Status. Operational. North. Best Option For Resupplying.">
Jima replied, forwarding the communication to Impero, as well as replying to Bismarck and signalling the rest of the fleet.

<-.-. ..-. -- / -.-. --.- / ... - .- - ..- ... / --. .-. . . -. / .- .. .-. .-- .. -. --. / ... - .- - ..- ... / ..--- ----- / ..-. ....- ..- / --... / ... -... ..--- -.-. / ..... / - -... ..-. / .- --. .-. . . / -. --- .-. - .... / -.-. --- -. ..-. .. .-. -- / .-- .. - .... / .. -- .--. . .-. --- / -.- / .- .-.>
CFM CQ Status Green Airwing Status 20 F4U 7 SB2C 5 TBF
Agree North
Confirm with Impero K AR

Jima looks around to see how the rest of the fleet is doing.
 
Damn it. Helena scolded herself as she risked a glance back at the shrinking smoke plumbs that marked the graves of her former comrades. More friends she had let down, more that she had abandoned like the coward she was. A part of her wished she had stayed with the princess, or rushed those battlecruisers in one last berserker frenzy rather than stay with Izumo and watch as others took her place.

At least Juneau was still alive though, if there was one godsend from the events of the past week. Looking over at the light cruiser and her half sister, a thin smile formed on her face. As long as they were alive she still had a reason to survive.

"Helena reporting in. Light damaged sustained but I am operational."
 
Juneau was tired. Tension fought with exhaustion as her radar pulsed the skies and her sonar listened for submarines. She glanced back at where she had come fron, half-expecting the enemy to still be chasing them.

Shame and guilt gnawed at her. They had abandoned their Princess and their battleships. She had abandoned them. The well of rage she could draw on was useless now -- nobody around her but her allies -- and that left the shame and guilt to threaten to overwhelm her.

She stilled those feelings. Now was not the time for that. She still had her duty to perform.

<"Juneau. Light damage. Still operational. Awaiting further orders.">
 
Drexler

Drexler was silent, the events of the past few days running through her mind in a flurry of half-coherent memories. Everything seemed wrong. She was an abyssal, one of the most powerful beings to ever sail the seven seas and what was that all good for? She was powerless to stop her friends and allies from sinking right in front if her. Should she have disobeyed her Princess' orders and fought till the very end? Should she have turned and helped her allies as they fled their pursuers? Maybe. Maybe, if she had stayed behind, one of the more powerful ships could have survived. Could her own selfishness — her own weakness — have doomed the fleet?

Her thoughts were interrupted with a signal from Iwo Jima. Drexler let out a sigh, everything was so stupid. But right now, the rest of the fleet needed her. Whatever the hell that meant...

<"Drexler reporting in. Light to moderate damage but still operational. Maintaining current heading until further notice.">
 
Oakland
Tsu Class
Status: Combat Functional

The retreat was disgraceful. Oakland herself was able to do her job of protection. But she still failed. The Princess was dead, she had sacrificed herself to ensure the task group's retreat.

Oakland was an escort, if anyone was to die it should have been her. But Oakland was ordered to protect the battleships and the carrier and that she had done. Her guns blazed frantically filling the skies with shells and rounds swatting down as many aircraft as she could. Of course, she didn't come out unharmed, her left arm's lower gun array was damaged and slow to respond, the right side's gun array jammed from her pushing herself too hard. She was more upset about her reduced ability to protect than any other damage done to her body at this point

"Iwo Jima, this is Oakland. Minor damage. I can continue to fight as needed. Ammunition stores are at acceptable levels," the Tsu reported half lying about her damage. She still was able to fight. If anything she could just move he right arm to aim if needed, she still had pitch control for the barrels at least.

She looked through her helmet still trying to keep her breathing steady. The skies were clear and she wanted to activate her radars but the fear was always there of telling the enemy where she was. She had heard stories of those struck down by leaving their radars on too long and attracting either the Enemy or leading to them being able to track them.

"What is our radar conditions. Do you want me emitting?" She said with a long exhale.

The odd helmet that helped define the Tsu-Class shifted slightly as the toothy vents twitched, as Oakland needed to stop pushing herself towards high alert. Ever since the decision to abandon the base came through she was keeping herself on higher alert levels. The Destroyers and Cruisers had to have known that due to the fact they had a carrier and battleships in their group the Enemy would hunt them down endlessly.
 
Surrender.

When she'd first heard talk of surrendering, L'Audacieux had thought it to be some sort of joke on her expense. You know, the kind that everybody's heard by now.

"Hey Frenchie did you pack enough white flags?"

"Did you grease all of your reverse gears today?"


The idea that the Abyssals would surrender came to her as a concept so absurd it simply didn't register. Lay down their arms and meekly submit themselves under the bots of humanity again? After everything that had happened?

The astonishment had soon given way for an old friend of hers, hatred. One might say it had been L'Audacieux's default state of being, since... 1940.

Now that she thought about it, the parallels were staggering. At least this time she would be allowed to go down fighting, rather than being forced to surrender and then shot by her own allies.

Since the Princesses plan had failed and she'd managed to get herself killed chances were they would all die like dogs, starving, backed into a corner and run down. But hey, better to die standing than live kneeling. Maybe there would be peace after her second death.

...Probably not.

Somebody was messaging her, so L'Audacieux focused her attention their way. The Wo-class, Iwo Jima, was asking for status reports.

<"L'Audacieux. Functional.">

What did it matter? They were going to die anyway.

The Destroyer's position was at the forefront of the fleet, scouting the horizon for approaching threats. The snail-like speed of the other Abyssals grated upon her, but she ignored the urge to break formation and make for the open ocean at all speed.

She wouldn't last any longer: even if she could outrun the humans and their pet kanmusu, she would eventually run out of fuel, or come under air attack, or be sunk by a submarine she never saw coming. Because her designers had had shit for brains.

But most importantly, she wasn't a traitor. She'd sworn to follow the Princess' orders, and so she would, even after the latter had gotten herself killed.
 
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"Iwo Jima, this is Oakland. Minor damage. I can continue to fight as needed. Ammunition stores are at acceptable levels,"
<"L'Audacieux. Functional.">
Jima looks over at Oakland and L'Audacieux. L'Audacieux looks operational, if lightly damaged, while Oakland.... appears to be having difficulties with turret rotation on some of her turrets. Jima frowns, and brings her signalling lamps around.
<-.-. .--. / --- .- -.- .-.. .- -. -.. / .- ..- -.. .- -.-. .. . ..- -..- / ...- . / -... -
.. -. - / --- .- -.- .-.. .- -. -.. / - ..- .-. .-. . - ... / ..-. ..- -. -.-. - .. --- -. .- .-.. / .- .-.>
CP Oakland Audacieux VE BT
INT Oakland Turrets Functional AR
"What is our radar conditions. Do you want me emitting?"
Jima looks thoughtful. Radar could be useful to spot things, but considering that her scouts can't see anything, it had the potential to be a double edged sword. She looks over to Impero, their defacto flagship, even as her signalling lamps swing around.
<-.- .- / .. -. - / .. -- .--. . .-. --- / .-. .- -.. .- .-. / -.-. / --- .-. / -. / -.- / .- .-.>
KA INT Impero Radar C or N K AR
(@CV12Hornet )
 
<"Affirmative. Reporting Status. Operational. North. Best Option For Resupplying.">

Bismark


Bismark nodded toward Jima's direction even though she probably couldn't see her.

<"Impero. Awaiting Instructions. Recommended Course. North.">

@CV12Hornet
One of Impero's eyebrows twitches. The battleship does not like Bismarck. Like, really does not like Bismarck. Every time Bismarck opens her mouth, Impero imagines killing her in some gruesome, imaginative way.

Shut up, you stupid sausage! she thinks, but does not say, instead imagining herself punching Bismarck in the chest so hard that one of her shattered ribs pierces her heart.

Jima looks over at Oakland and L'Audacieux. L'Audacieux looks operational, if lightly damaged, while Oakland.... appears to be having difficulties with turret rotation on some of her turrets. Jima frowns, and brings her signalling lamps around.
<-.-. .--. / --- .- -.- .-.. .- -. -.. / .- ..- -.. .- -.-. .. . ..- -..- / ...- . / -... -
.. -. - / --- .- -.- .-.. .- -. -.. / - ..- .-. .-. . - ... / ..-. ..- -. -.-. - .. --- -. .- .-.. / .- .-.>
CP Oakland Audacieux VE BT
INT
Oakland Turrets Functional AR

Jima looks thoughtful. Radar could be useful to spot things, but considering that her scouts can't see anything, it had the potential to be a double edged sword. She looks over to Impero, their defacto flagship, even as her signalling lamps swing around.
<-.- .- / .. -. - / .. -- .--. . .-. --- / .-. .- -.. .- .-. / -.-. / --- .-. / -. / -.- / .- .-.>
KA INT Impero Radar C or N K AR
(@CV12Hornet )
Iwo Jima is a welcome distraction.

<"Full EMCON."> she transmits back. And, to forestall another one of Bismarck's enquiries, she sucks in a deep breath and roars "HUDDLE UP!"
 
Iwo Jima is a welcome distraction.

<"Full EMCON."> she transmits back. And, to forestall another one of Bismarck's enquiries, she sucks in a deep breath and roars "HUDDLE UP!"
<-.- .- / -.-. ..-. -- / .... ..- -.. -.. .-.. .. -. --. / ..- .--. / -.- / .- .-.>
KA CFM Huddling Up K AR
Jima's signal lamps flashed out her reply as she adjusted her speed and heading to pull up alongside Impero as she went.
 
@Ash19256
@CV12Hornet

Oakland
Tsu Class
Status: Combat Functional

She heard the responses and against her better judgment kept her radars powered down. At least then, they could check more for any signs of damage from the surges. Her eyes still scanned the horizon frantically, the blank face of her helmet hiding her anxiety. The enemy may still be around. The Death of Raider Cruiser Princess wouldn't be enough for the enemy. They would continue to chase them. They always seemed to have forces ready to hunt them down now.

Now she's sailing almost blind, at least her hydrophones were still able to hear if any subs were hiding nearby. The last thing she wanted to deal with was submarines. As she began to cluster closer to her flagship, not pulling sudden movements that would make her noisier than expected.

Those queries were slowly responded to, "Turrets are functional, but some are degraded in capability. I can continue to fight," She said as she scanned the horizon. For Oakland, the idea of not being allowed to do her duty in such a situation was unthinkable, "All weapons are functional. Implementing EMCON procedures"

Oakland knew that as long as she had her rigging and the link connected she could keep going. It helped silence some of those interrupting emotions. She could not cry at this time, crying degraded performance significantly. There would be time for that. It'd be the same time when she could get fully repaired or enough time to stop and her to be able to disconnect.

Right now, she needed to serve, as the Princess would have wanted, Follow Orders and Escort.
 
Bismarck


Bismark just shrugged and obeyed. The Princess's orders were to follow Impero's instructions and so she would do so. Her signal lamps blinked out a reply.

<"Affirmative. Implementing EMCON Procedures.">

She didn't understand, however. They were already in radio silence. Its the reason why they were talking through signal lamps for a while now. Is Impero okay? Shrugging Bismarck thought of how to cheer up her comrades when they are not in danger anymore. Some Oktoberfest perhaps? Nothing more than a beer can lighten the mood after what happened!
 
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@Ash19256
@CV12Hornet

<"Acknowledged. Implementing EMCON procedures.">

Juneau twisted her head this way and that, looking for the telltale shapes of airplanes in the sky. Her arms and guns tensed, waiting for the appearance of enemy aircraft. No radar would be a problem, but orders were orders.

A slight course change and she was moving closer to Impero and others.

@Zelinko

Seeing the form of her sister getting closer, Juneau waved an arm at Oakland. Juneau smiled. It was good to see someone familiar. And nice. And with the same job as Juneau.
 
ORP Grom


Princess is dead, forces are decimated... great! Just what we needed! No reinforcements coming in, slowly dying off, one by o-Put it in the box, Grom. Lock the box and throw away the key. Let's just get out of here.

My fellows appear to be communicating via signal lamps alone, keeping as quiet as possible. Impero, Bismarck, Iwo Jima, Helena, Oakland, Juneau, L'Audacieux, and Drexler. So few compared to our numbers before. At this point, there's little to do but follow my flagship.

I signal to the other ships in the fleet with mysignal lamps.
<"Grom reporting in. I've suffered light damage. What are your orders, Impero?">

@CV12Hornet
 
NPC Fleet Members
Somewhere East of Madagascar
Morning
~~~~~~~~~~
As all of the other, named Abyssals reported their status, so to did the old scout cruiser Marblehead.

<"Marblehead reports minimal damage, and is fully combat capable. He- and I-class escorts report minimal damage.>

Marblehead had been one of the old hands in the Raider Cruiser Princess' fleet, and was well respected for that fact. However, she lacked critical facilities to act as the fleet's flagship. Instead, she dutifully continued to act as a scout, steaming ahead of the fleet and providing helpful Reconnaissance reports. The other ships, the He-class light cruiser and the six I-class destroyers, were some of the fleet's newest additions, being added days before the fighting at Madagascar began. The He-class still lacked her name, while the I-class were barely more than feral creatures to act as guards and escorts, but not much else.

@CV12Hornet
 
As her force presses in close around her, Impero finally, really takes in what force she has. One carrier, depleted of her airgroup. Two battleships, one of which is her and the other she hates with the fury of a thousand exploding suns. A mixed bag of light cruisers, none of which are particularly heavy. And some destroyers. Not the best force to be waging seaborne guerilla warfare. But they're here, and they're all looking to her for guidance. And the first step is...

"Alright, everyone, listen up," she announces in her plain voice. "I'm sure you're all wondering what the hell we're doing next. Some of you have asked for orders. At least one of you..." And here she attempts to vaporize Bismarck with her gaze. "Has suggested going north. We're going to do just that. We're going to Diego Garcia; if we're lucky, there are no humans there and some supplies for us to scavenge. If we're unlucky, there are humans they're and we're all going to die horribly. Further orders will come once we're in scouting range."

"Any questions?"

Plan laid out, Impero leans back and waits for the praise to come in.
 
Iwo Jima
East of Madagascar


Jima considered the options. Diego Garcia made sense as a base, which unfortunately meant...

"With all due respect Impero, I would expect that Diego Garcia would be inhabited - it was a mission critical base for the US Navy prior to occupation by Abyssal forces. It would only be logical that humanity would elect to rebuild the base there, and potentially use it as a staging ground for kanmusu forces. Even if we were able to take the base again, we'd have maybe a few hours to take everything that wasn't nailed down too hard and run away before humanity came down on that island like the wrath of God."

Jima consults her charts of the area in her head. "A possibly less likely to be inhabited area would be Peros Banhos Atoll, which we might be able to use as a temporary base of operations without effectively screaming to the world 'Here we are, come kill us please'."
 
Bismark


"Alright, everyone, listen up," she announces in her plain voice. "I'm sure you're all wondering what the hell we're doing next. Some of you have asked for orders. At least one of you..." And here she attempts to vaporize Bismarck with her gaze.
Bismark waved to Impero in response to her passioned gaze, a grin on her face. She was cute if she were, to be honest, but Bismark herself wasn't interested in any romantic pursuit, she already loved war more than anything. She will have to turn Impero down. Although she wouldn't mind having fun from time to time.

Bismark merely shrugged. She put her hands in her pockets, surprisingly her suit was not wet nor destroyed in yesterday's ordeal.

"I'll follow you to hell and back Impero, even if I have to die. The Princess's orders were clear. No matter where you decide to go." explained Bismark with a matter of fact tone, a bored look on her face.
 
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Drexler


Drexler had been ruminating for the entire meeting up till this point, but not a single thought or concern of hers had anything to do with their mission. Thoughts about the "kanmasu" (Why were they called can-masu? Was it because their armor was paper thin?) and the abyssal war had rooted themselves deeply in her mind. Then out of nowhere, Impero sprung a fast one on her:


"WHAT! She's asking if I have any questions? Come on Drexler, think! If you don't say anything here everyone else will think you're an idiot!" she thought as her mind worked itself into overdrive to come up with anything meaningful to contribute to the conversation...

"Uhhh, what are we going to do after we go to... Diego Garcia, or was it Pa- Po- Pu— that Paris place," Drexler let out a sigh, she probably should have been paying more attention to the discussion.

"You get my point though... Right?"

"Great job Drexler, you made a fool of yourself again... Hopefully Impero doesn't think your question is stupid," Drexler thought as she anxiously awaited for Impero's response.
 
Bismarck



Bismarck sighed in delight at Drexler's cuteness. She didn't know why destroyers were so small and cute but she just liked to pat their heads. They made so great murder-machines too! Ah, she could only wish to get a whole fleet of them as an escort and slaughter Humanity. Not all of it, of course, she must leave a few to breed and restart again. It will be a shame if they run out! She wouldn't have anything to slaughter otherwise! Drexler didn't realize it but she gave the opportunity for Bismark to showcase her love for war yet again.

"Drexler!" She cried out the Destroyer's name. There was a fanatic mad glint in Bismarck's eyes.

"After resupplying and setting up a home base, we will continue our mission. The reason for us being Abyssal! War! We have eternal life! We can wage war for eternity! What a perfect existence! Wars across prairies, in streets, in trenches, in grasslands, in frozen tundras, through deserts, on the sea, in the air, I love every act of war that can occur upon this earth! I love blasting the enemy to smithereens with my 38 cm guns! We are monsters! It's the only place we can live in! We will make Hell tremble in envy!" She spread her arms, a maddened grin, stretching unbelievably wide on her face, her scar appearing as a contrast to her perfect pale white skin. Bismarck took a deep breath to calm the rush of excitement. Her grin went from a wide grin to small motherly smile. She gently approached Drexler and patted her head.

"Du wirst sehen, Drexler. Der Krieg ist schön."
 
"Iwo Jima's right." Helena said. "The humans and Kanmusu have no doubt reoccupied the base, maybe even used it as a staging point for the blockade on our island. No doubt the island is crawling with people who would love for the last group of Abyssal to nicely deliver themselves at their door. Unless you plan on throwing in the towel and surrendering, you're only leading us to our deaths."
 
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