She is a very, very lucky bitch. We're still working on how to punch through the dimensional membrane separating the spiritual pocket containing our ship's hull from Realspace.
And the Navy should be really really glad that Grace did not. If there are going to be more Natural-born Abyssals, how long till you get someone who does not have the self control to not shoot whatever they are anger at?
This and similar descriptions of her anatomy and the anatomy of her constituents are really cool, and the way she's so casual about her symbionts being cyborgs with modular cyberlimbs is interesting (I imagine this is related to the terminology shift, if I'm remembering the name right, that was referred to in another perspective earlier on?).
Thank you very much for writing this, and I look eagerly forward to seeing how this continues!
"Nah, someone might think I'm a Gundam reference and I stopped liking that after I hatched and realized they never let the women do anything important except simp after the men." I sighed.
I think you meant to have Grace sigh here as it's in the segment from Jo's viewpoint.
Other than that, thanks for the great chapter. Not much 'story' might have happened, but we had a firm progression of the story and Grace starting to reconnect to those she has actual ties to. Something that is good for many reasons and nice to see.
"Nah, someone might think I'm a Gundam reference and I stopped liking that after I hatched and realized they never let the women do anything important except simp after the men." I sighed.
As just noted, this should be Grace given that it's in Jo's section. Also, however, I took a look back and even in Jo's sections she doesn't get FPPOV. Is that intentional?
Also, no Witc--*reads A/N* never mind
If she wanted to flaunt, opsec be damned, she could totally take pictures now and just say she's doing a costest or something >.>
And the Navy should be really really glad that Grace did not. If there are going to be more Natural-born Abyssals, how long till you get someone who does not have the self control to not shoot whatever they are anger at?
I think you meant to have Grace sigh here as it's in the segment from Jo's viewpoint.
Other than that, thanks for the great chapter. Not much 'story' might have happened, but we had a firm progression of the story and Grace starting to reconnect to those she has actual ties to. Something that is good for many reasons and nice to see.
Cosplay with what resources? Everyone was glad she had access to a shower. They think she's crashed somewhere relatively safe for the short term.
Also, Grace looks like she's in her early 20s. Not the early teens that the server knows her in.
The first term is AMAB, Assigned Male At Birth. Grace is a trans girl, and always has been, even before her miracle transition. A trans man is someone who wants to and/or has transitioned to a more masculine self.
Cosplay with what resources? Everyone was glad she had access to a shower. They think she's crashed somewhere relatively safe for the short term.
Also, Grace looks like she's in her early 20s. Not the early teens that the server knows her in.
'now' being a little nebulous. Perhaps after enough time for a notional first paycheck assuming she could say she found employment or something. :laughs:
'now' being a little nebulous. Perhaps after enough time for a notional first paycheck assuming she could say she found employment or something. :laughs:
Personally, even when you have a damn good paycheck and you just got away from parents, it takes a WHILE to ramp up yourself into spending anything beyond basics.
Even if you have the money, it's difficult to actually cultivate good habits (food, ow) and also justify getting fun neat things over other boring stuff.
Personally, even when you have a damn good paycheck and you just got away from parents, it takes a WHILE to ramp up yourself into spending anything beyond basics.
Even if you have the money, it's difficult to actually cultivate good habits (food, ow) and also justify getting fun neat things over other boring stuff.
Not universally, FWIW. I've definitely heard from people who splurged on themselves the first chance they could after however many months or years of not being able to. A little bit of catharsis.
Not universally, FWIW. I've definitely heard from people who splurged on themselves the first chance they could after however many months or years of not being able to. A little bit of catharsis.
Again, age difference and she looks like an Abyssal.
What kind of person would cosplay as an Abyssal? Do you want to present yourself as that kind of person?
Again, age difference and she looks like an Abyssal.
What kind of person would cosplay as an Abyssal? Do you want to present yourself as that kind of person?
What we're more curious about is if she's going to show off to her online friends once she's properly Navy and been revealed to the public. That'd be much more sensible.
What we're more curious about is if she's going to show off to her online friends once she's properly Navy and been revealed to the public. That'd be much more sensible.
Again, age difference and she looks like an Abyssal.
What kind of person would cosplay as an Abyssal? Do you want to present yourself as that kind of person?
I get what you're saying but I have a hard time believing that Abyssals would monopolize "pale, gothy girl" as a look, no matter what is going on. ;X
Either way, it's moot, it seems unlikely at best that it'd be an angle she's going for, nor does she seem desperate enough for that kind of validation.
Hell yes. Trans protagonist, shipgirl protagonist. Abyssal protagonist even. And Itmauve on top of that. We& are here for this. Loving the fic so far. Have only had Grace for three chapters, but if anything happened to her I would kill everyone in this universe and then myself.
Neat, so we have a Demon Carrier protag, this might be funky. She tall now, pretty cool. I wonder, if she is gonna have problems with her strenght now. She did just gain over 100k horsepower, I expect a lot of broken doors and such.
Neat, so we have a Demon Carrier protag, this might be funky. She tall now, pretty cool. I wonder, if she is gonna have problems with her strenght now. She did just gain over 100k horsepower, I expect a lot of broken doors and such.
I mean, given she didn't crush her phone or any of the things in the office… I don't think that's gonna be a problem except maybe when she's excited, so she might have some difficulties sleeping with people, but that was already going o have some issues from all the cybernetic bits poking things so…
Having her just yeet some idiots car/tank/vehicle Over the horizon for being an ass would be funny to watch though.
CW: Attempted abuse in a medical context, severe injuries, discussion of genitalia
Friday, 13 October 2028
-/Grace/-
The soft bed instantly let me know it wasn't a dream. Well, that, and my entire new set of senses. The telemetry I got from my crew was not something close to the human sensory experience. While my radars weren't getting clear images with the small size of the room and the things in it, I could still sorta hear things with them. (I'd decided "hearing" was the best term in between levels in Photon Lancer yesterday.) Touching things felt different now (both on skin and metal) and my sight and hearing were sharper than two days ago, as well.
Actually figuring out a wakeup routine was another thing. I sat up, about to rub my eyes when I remembered that I had metal claws. Blunt claws, but still. In fact, my outer armor went up past my elbows, so it wasn't like I could rub my eyes using my forearm or something. My outer armor wouldn't be changing shape until well after I'd done damage to my softer parts. I did pack a few clothes that no longer fit me, stuffed into my backpack while I was wearing it outside my payload bay. A quick bit of ripping got me a messy handkerchief, which I could use to clean my eyes.
A few heavy symbionts helped me get my hair back into a ponytail, and then I turned around. Hayden was apparently still asleep, which is why I hadn't noticed anything moving in the room.
It was 0230. I work up early, just like yesterday. My need for sleep pretty much tanked with my awakening, it seemed, so I was now a morning person. Joy.
So when Hayden woke up four hours later, I was sitting in the chair in the room, looking at my phone.
"G'mrnming?" She muttered, climbing out of bed.
"Shirt please?" I asked after several long moments, as I finally directed my eyes back to my phone. Because up until then, puberty had been an abstract sort of thing for me. While I'd known for a while I was a lesbian, I hadn't really known about that. Either the haze of having the wrong body had been suppressing that, or yesterday being pretty stressful, meant I had no real experience of the keysmash.
Hayden made a little 'eep.' "Sorry about that. That... happens sometimes. Especially with the clasps on my nightshirts getting a little worn out." Was she... turning around? Radar returns are crap right now.
She stumbled over to the coffeemaker - or at least I assumed it was stumbling; that wasn't the right radar or audio sound for normal walking.
I continued staring at my phone. "Yeah, stuff happens." I finally said once I was calm enough.
There were a couple minutes with the hotel room slowly filling with the smell of coffee.
Hayden poured herself a cup and took a big whiff. "Whatcha doing?"
"Research." I said, and glanced up at Hayden, who was now decent, clothes-wise.
"On what?" Hayden took a sip of coffee.
"The Abyssal war." I shrugged. "It's been pretty much background noise for my entire life, to the point where I really didn't care about it." Like, if I had remotely cared a tiny bit, I would have known about natural borns. Though that may have resulted in me asking the OSINT community about my issue, which would have probably not endeared me to the Navy.
"Where you looking for information?" Hayden said. "There's a lot of misinformation out there."
"Can't they crack down on that?" I asked.
"Yeah, they can." She nodded. "But only when large amounts of money are involved. A single crazy paying for their own website? Completely allowed. Look up a guy called Perun - he does some good stuff"
"Ah, neat." I said, tapping with my stylus. I'd actually already run across his stuff, which meant I wasn't going down the conspiracy rabbit hole.
Hayden gave me a few more names to look at, and I pretended I hadn't already run across them all.
"Let's go out for breakfast. Hotel breakfast is probably not a good idea" Hayden said. "The sunglasses will probably get a few more odd looks inside before dawn."
"Okay." I said.
Hayden slipped into the bathroom to change. I pulled on a pair of red-lensed wraparound sunglasses (one of the things Matt had gotten yesterday,) then got my hoodie on again. We exited the building through a side door and I had my hood up the moment we were through. We were safely in Hayden's car without spotting a single other person.
We stopped at a drive-in on the way there, "picking up breakfast for the office." A dozen breakfast sandwiches and four omelets did take a bit to prepare. There were also four cups of coffee in the order.
"Two of the omelets are mine, plus a coffee." Hayden said. I nodded, reaching into the bag the moment we were around the corner.
After taking on the solid fuel, I tried the coffee.
How did people drink this? I yanked the napkins from the bag and spit the poison into them, pulled a dry one off the bottom, and wiped my tongue off.
"Bleh." I said, putting the cup down in the cupholder. "How do you handle this?"
"Too hot?" Hayden asked.
"No, this is way too bitter." I said, stuffing the napkins into the trash bag Alex kept in front of her passenger seat.
"Really?" Hayden said. "Most shipgirls require a few cups to get going in the morning."
"B-mint." I sighed.
"Ah." Hayden said, almost guilty. "Right."
-----
We arrived at the office almost before anyone else. Gallene was there, and told us to get in her office.
"First things, that package on the desk is for you." She said. "It's shipgirl-grade stress balls. High-ductility alloy of some kind."
I picked up the box, then started working at the tape.
"Do try to keep them on hand." Gallene stated, and I nodded.
"Second, the plan to keep you here until we found a guardian for you has been changed." She stated, sliding behind her desk. "You're flying to Norfolk, where you'll be undergoing a full medical examination and sea trials."
-------------------
-/Jo Gallene/-
Grace was still opening the box, not appearing to notice the weight. Jo had left it on the desk for a reason.
"... I see." Grace said after several moments, frowning a little. But her eyes weren't glowing, which seeming to be the biggest tell for her stress.
"I don't know the procedure for a shipgirl medical exam." Jo shook her head a little. "We've honestly never had a natural-born go through here. Three shipgirl doctors were listed on the order, though."
"Shipgirl doctors?" Grace asked.
"Hospital ships and repair ships." Jo said. "USS Fowler, HA-572, USS Merida, HA-873, and USS Wayne, AFDB-178."
"... I see." Grace once again kept her thoughts close to her chest. Maybe she had a modern CIC down in her hull?
"You've got two destroyers who will meet you at the plane as escorts, USS Barker and USS Alden. The message says four escorts, so I don't know if you'll get another two shipgirls or if they're assigning two humans for that." Jo said.
Grace nodded, face armor holding. "I see."
"USS Reprisal will be overseeing your sea trials. Those will be starting tomorrow." Jo added.
"Mmmm." Grace's face armor cracked as she got the package open, showing a little stress and a little excitement.
She could have just ripped it. Jo watched as she carefully removed the packing material, making sure not a single piece hit the ground, and removed the first stress ball. It was a coppery metal orb that seemed rather small in Grace's hands.
"So when am I flying out?" Grace asked.
"Two hours. In the meantime, I'm going to give you my contact information. I'm not sure what I'll be able to do..." Jo grimaced. "But it will be better than nothing."
Grace nodded after a moment. "Thanks."
-----------------------
-/Amelia Barker (DD-213)/-
The C-37 came in on final approach at Chambers Field, watched by the multitude of radars present on the base. Which included both Amelia's and Sophia Alden's own equipment, at the moment. Greeting someone with their rigging out was slightly rude but they were here as guards.
The two men standing with the destroyers were carrying pretty much the standard loadout intended for use against humans, with the exception of extra flashbangs and signal flare launchers secured about their person. There was also a pair of disposable foam coolers at their feet.
Tracking the plane against the ground with their radar sets, even with their eighth-generation shipgirl equipment, was an exercise in lots of noise and little signal. Still, optical tracking worked just fine for the tense moments as the plane taxied off the runway to the parking spot where the four escorts waited.
A minute or so after landing, the hatch opened, and their guest strutted down the steps. Their guest... which was... wasn't...?
Amelia looked over at Sophia, who was shooting her an equally confused frown. Was she a shipgirl? Even Abyssals "looked" the same way, obviously both ship and girl. But... Well, she's definitely not a normal human.
"Uh, hi?" Said guest asked, stepping out of the way for the plane crew, who were double-timing it over to where the ground crew was remaining still, watching Miss Batoidea out of the corner of their eyes.
"Welcome to Naval Station Norfolk." Alden recovered. "This is your visitor badge. You're going to be expected to wear this at all times. Make sure to stick with whoever is your escort at all times."
"Ah, okay?" Grace had, before she had a realization. "Hmm." She added, with more confidence.
"Also, those are for you." She pointed at the coolers. "They've got food in them. Shipgirl physics rule that isn't immediately apparent - if you just put that in your holds, it'll be like bringing that onboard your full-hull. A sliver of the supply, only in food, and none of the flavor."
"Oh, thanks for letting me know." She picked up the coolers, the two plastic strips used for handles looking tiny in her big, armor-covered hand.
Sophia took forward position, while Seamen Mirka and Smith went on either side of Amelia. The ground crew, apparently mollified that this was under control, moved into action.
While Amelia understood, on a base level, that cameras and human eyes didn't seem to catch the glittering echoes and fragments in an Abyssal's eyes, even typical Abyssal eye behavior wasn't anywhere close to human and shipgirl eyes. Commander Fuller's notes on that wasn't something either of them had really thought about, even if they'd noticed it before.
Maybe it was the fact that she was so tall contributing to it. Amelia was nowhere near as short as she was when she manifested over a decade ago, but fleet carriers made most people - herself included - feel small.
Regardless of the ruminations, Sophia had brought them to the terminal. Miss Batoidea mostly seemed to know what she was doing with her paperwork. A little prompting from Sophia had her finishing up.
"Thanks!" Miss Batoidea smiled.
With that, they checked out a van from the motor pool and piled in. Miss Batoidea was in the passenger seat, and pulled out a pair of red sunglasses as they got in. Mirka was driving, Smith was in the back seat, and Amelia and Sophia were in the middle. As they pulled out, the heavy presence of silence settled about the van.
The awkward silence was broken by Smith. "So... you play video games?"
"Yeah!" Miss Batoidea Grace smiled, holding up a PSP. "I haven't had an opportunity to play a lot before this, but I've got a copy of Photon Lancer that I play when I can."
Right, she's in high school.
"They have Photon Lancer for PSP?" Sophia asked. Amelia didn't even know what this game was. All her video game time was taken up by Factorio. Right now she was doing a Space Age Extended run with Bob's/Angel's/Nekopink's and Catalogue Science, and also playing on the San Diego server, which was running a Clusterio/Krastorio/Magic Realms project right now.
"Yeah, the Runner side series." Grace nodded.
"So you're not playing Ibis Inferno?" Sophia asked.
"No, and no spoilers." Grace pointed at Sophia. "I really want to play it, and since Runner 3 and Ibis came out at the same time, you can sync your saved data between them. It's basically like having more side missions. Except you can't equip some devices and the graphics are worse on PSP. I want to try out the minelayers some time."
"Okay, that's neat." Sophia said. "That would be pretty good to have."
"Just buy a wrist strap too." Amelia said. "And I can send you some videos on how to waterproof a portable console, too. Still have to rinse it out when you get saltwater in it, but it helps a lot."
"Ohhhh. So that's why you don't have those custom joycons anymore." Sophia grinned.
Amelia sighed.
"Uh, Captain Barker?" Grace asked. "Can you send me those links too? Probably gonna be useful eventually."
"Yeah, sure. You have a phone number?"
"Er, sorta? Can I just give you an email?" Grace said.
"Sorta?" Sophia asked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Not sure I'll still have the same number after I get officially free from my gene donors." Grace frowned.
The two humans winced at that phrase.
"Any siblings?" Mirka asked.
"Brother, nine years old." Grace said. "I hope he can at least handle it. Ohio's CPS is crap."
"It can't be that -"
"Trust me, my friends tried to get those people on notice. It didn't work." Grace muttered. Then she switched to a more thoughtful expression. "You know, I really wish I had their email addresses. I want to tell them I'm okay, but... well, my voice is completely different now. They wouldn't recognize me."
Everyone except Mirka exchanged glances at that. Probably because he was focused on the road.
"How similar is your face to before?" Amelia asked.
"Not very." Grace said. "My eyes are identical, except for the color shift and the glow, and my ears are pretty close, but every other part of my face is different. I like it." She finished with a smile.
"Grace, you might want to eat now, before we get to the docks, since the examination is going to take a while." Sophia spoke up.
"Alright, thanks." Grace said, opening up one of the coolers and pulling out a sub.
------
Grace had finished the food by the time they arrived at the Shipgirl Medical Facility, then packed everything neatly into one of the disposable coolers (including the other disposable cooler.) The SMF building was one of the newest buildings on the base, about seven years old. Aside from it being a bit cleaner-looking, it wasn't that different than the rest of the buildings.
Their charge dumped the cooler in the trash can just inside the lobby, while Amelia checked in and grabbed the clipboard of paperwork. Nearby, a pair of humans stared at Grace, with a cruiser in the middle with her head on a tilt, eyes squinted. Filling that out only took a few minutes, and then they were being led back to one of the offices.
Both of the hospital shipgirls were already there, but the floating-drydock-girl was still running late.
Captain Fowler glanced up from her tablet. "Grace?" This shipgirl was tall and elegant, though still much shorter than a fleet carrier in heels. She was dressed in scrubs with a labcoat over those.
"That's me." The girl waved.
There was a pause while Fowler squinted at Grace. "Doctor Amanda Fowler, physician. I'll be conducting an initial physical for you." She offered a hand. "This is Doctor Maria Merida, OB/GYN." A gesture indicated the other hospital shipgirl.
"Er." Grace said. Amelia couldn't see Grace's entire face, but what she could see...
"That's a common response from trans shipgirls, by the way. Seen it quite a few times." Merida said. Honestly, it wasn't far off from what Amelia imagined her face looked like during her first - and fortunately only - time she had that exam. Still, Grace's face contorted a little more at that statement.
"Okay." Grace said, frowning. "But is it normal for you to be here right now? During the first meeting with a patient?"
"Aren't you supposed to be fourteen?" Fowler asked, smiling a little.
"Yes, this is unusual." Merida sighed. "As I learned very recently, Abyssal Demons... have no reproductive systems. They have the external appearance of female genitalia, but there's nothing below deck. Meanwhile, shipgirls-" She held up a tablet, displaying the scattered dots of an ultrasound, specifically one of a shipgirl's pelvic area- "can have an awful lot going on."
"Huh." Grace blinked, and her shoulders relaxed a little. Then she tensed up again, eyes narrowed and brightening. "So who gets the details about my crotch?"
"Newly awakened shipgirls will normally get an exam in a couple weeks or so." Fowler stated. "I just arranged for yours to be done sooner, because convenience, and because that part of the request made me shiver. All I'm putting in the report is Merida's 'match' - 'not a match' so at least we don't have that concern." The doctor slumped.
"Also, why did you have that picture up?" Grace asked, eyes dimming a bit.
"Because a big chunk of natural-borns won't feel comfortable until they get a sign that human norms need not apply in the SMF." Merida said. "Unfortunately I can't offer to send anyone out of the room right now."
"Well, yeah." Grace tilted her head a bit, her eyes back to a normal level of glow.
"It seems Doctor Wayne is running late. Can we start with your logistical requirements?" Fowler asked.
"Logistical requirements?" Grace asked.
"Yeah, how much food you need, or any other supplies." The doctor said.
That was just a conversation, with some use of the internet to look up nutritional information. Though the process encountered a hiccup.
"So how much in the way of supplies you carry?" Fowler asked, maybe a third of the way into the process. "By type,please."
"Uh, it's all fuel." Grace tilted her head.
"All fuel? But..." Fowler glanced over to Sophia. "Abyssals use more than just one type of supplies, right?"
"I think so?" The other destroyer responded. "Hulks definitely do. Can't tell you about Beasts or Demons, though."
"So how do you rearm your planes?"
"Make more munitions from fuel in my ammo glands." Grace said.
There was a moment of silence at that.
"And how do you repair them?" Fowler asked.
"High-fuel ichor to give more energy for regeneration, print some grafts if the damage is particularly bad." Grace said. "Probably a little surgery to remove shell fragments and whatnot."
There were several moments of silence at that.
"I don't think that's how planes work." Amelia said eventually. "Like... there's a joke about 'rocket surgery' being a thing but... it's a joke."
"Hey, remember the part in the report where it's said her planes are almost alive?" Sophia said. "Because I think that's understating it."
"Thank you, Captain Alden." Grace said, her shoulders relaxing. "My skywings count as symbiotic organisms, probably."
"So..." The doctor said. "Okay. This is a thing that is happening."
"Even Demon aircraft are piloted, so... she is officially weirder than any Abyssal." Amelia said.
"Did the entire 'weird shipness' not get that across already?" Sophia asked.
"Well, we can write that down on the forms and the brass will actually pay attention to that." Amelia said. "Hence, 'official.'"
"I'm just putting down 'BMINT nonsense - fuel only' here." Fowler said, though Amelia suspected she was writing down something less child-safe.
"Wait." Grace said. "There are my caches. Just some vascular and nervous strands along with reinforced membranes, so I think that's for damcon."
In the end, it was written that Grace had a food bill about the same as any other fleet carrier, roughly five times as much as a human when she was eating well.
"So what next?" Grace asked.
What came next was known to Amelia through both her original crews and her own experience. Grace was measured, weighed, and had her pulse taken, though Amelia didn't remember that many confused looks and measurements from the human who had attended her for her pulse.
"I have no idea what is going on with your circulatory system." Doctor Fowler marked that down with a frown. "I would like to do an ultrasound of your upper torso later."
When examining Grace's vision, Fowler used a special box to simulate distances exceeding a kilometer, which would have been useful when Amelia had her own vision tested. Grace metaphorically destroyed the reaction time test by grabbing the falling ruler with inhuman speed. Then came the hearing test, which Grace again passed with flying colors. The hand-eye coordination revealed Grace was ambidextrous, a trait all shipgirls shared universally.
"Honestly, you're in excellent shape even by Shipgirl standards." Fowler said. "Eyesight and hearing are both above average. Still, we need blood samples, too."
Grace looked at the inside of her armored elbow. "Give me a minute." With that, she rested her other hand on that elbow for a bit, before eventually removing a few plates. Amelia noticed black studs sticking out of her skin where the plates had been attached, as well as moving shapes under the other plates..
When Fowler went to take the blood sample, she frowned. Then she tried again, a few times, before replacing the needle and trying again. "Grace, do you have an idea?" The needle had bent, looking like a hook instead.
"I could siphon directly from my reserve ichors tanks." Grace said. "You'd have to walk me through what to do, though."
Fowler grabbed a fresh needle and turned to Grace, who was presenting several small black-and-grey crabs on her palm.
"Just stick this into one of your tanks. You'll probably be able to figure out how to handle the aiming and patching better than I could." Fowler cautiously handed the needle to the tiny crab, which secured it with its claws onto top of its body.
"These dock into the needle." At that, Fowler started loading the crabs with the small plastic ampules. "So what you want to do with those is..."
Amelia missed the rest of the explanation as Mirka knocked on the door. "Doctor Wayne here, Ma'am."
"Send her in." Fowler said. As the massive woman ducked under the doorframe, Doctor Merida put a finger over her lips.
The floating drydock watched the scene with a bit of attention, before the silence was broken as the crabs disappeared below Grace's deck.
"So." Cassandra Wayne said. "I see things have gotten interesting."
"Yeah, that just about sums up the last two days for me." Grace nodded, placing one of her armor plates back at her elbow.
"So you're Grace." Doctor Wayne said.
"Hopefully that's the case legally soon." Grace said, then turned to Fowler. "My reserve ichor tanks have low fuel content, so don't take it as representative of all my ichor."
Fowler stared at her for a moment. "Okay. So how much does that vary? And what is your ichor made up of anyway?"
"Goes down to about maybe 2% in the reserve tanks, up to about 75 to 80% in the fuel cells." Grace said. "The rest is about one part lubricant, two parts extinguishing agents, one part clotting agents, and one part immune agents."
"You're a shipgirl with an immune system?" Doctor Merida asked, hand raised.
"Yup." Grace said. "You don't have one?"
"Most of my standing crew is corpsfaires and nursefairies." The hospital ship said. "I think I can handle a few diseases."
"I just wonder how we're going to refit you." Fowler asked. "I'm out of practice with patients that actually bleed."
"Speaking of that, what about training ammo? Am I going to need that?" Grace asked, as the crabs came out, carrying black-filled ampules. "Because that's going to be a problem."
"Yeah, we use training ammo in most of our drills." Amelia stated. "How is that going to be a problem? Just swap the ammo out from the magazines."
"For someone with magazines that have to be manually reloaded, yes." Grace said, hand retracting from the transfer to Fowler. "But my magazines are automatically refilled from integral ammo glands. The only openings are at the top, right next to the feed arms. Trying to manually load from the top would... no, I'm not doing that. And going in through the sides would damage the fuel cells. The bottom's where the ammo gland and the arteries are, so that's the most fragile part. Definitely not there."
"Also, it occurs to me that since whoever designed you probably wasn't consulting BuWeps, your guns might not have the same caliber as the rest of the Navy. Can you extract a shell without firing it?" Wayne had her hand on her chin.
"From the bigger guns, definitely." Grace said. "From the light guns, possibly. But that will take a minute."
"What type of ammo are you using anyway?" Amelia asked.
"Proxflak in both sizes, plus some fireblast for the larger guns."
"Proximity-fused flak for your light AA?" Sophia said. "Okay, now I'm jealous. And you don't have to wait for the entire Fletcher swarm to get it first."
"Yeah, I do hope it helps." Grace held out a hand to Wayne, a tiny black-and-grey lobster holding a shell clinging to her plating. "This is from my larger guns."
"I see." Wayne said, a few of her fairies clambering out from under her sleeve. With the shell transferred, the drydock held up her hand to closely examine the shell. "169mm caliber. Longer than normal. 125.4 kg mass. Aluminum jacket covering most of the body, except for the tip and end. Has two slightly curved ridge pairs on the jacket. Tip is marked with a hexagonal teardrop pattern with inset copper. Also slightly damp with a highly saline solution."
"That's a bit under seven inches. I don't know any ships that still have that size of gun. Five-inchers have become pretty much standard for most medium guns." Sophia said. "How many barrels do you have?"
"Twelve, in six turrets. Four fore, two aft." Grace stretched. "And before you ask, 216 light barrels in 36 hex turrets."
"Hex turrets?" Everyone else in the room asked.
"You a Brit design?" Sophia added.
"British?" Grace raised a finger.
"Yeah, they made a sexuple mount for the bofors." Sophia said.
"It's a hex turret." Grace said, wincing. "The middle pair is just above and below the mount's main eye, so that means I can correct for wind or motion factors better. Or at least that's what I would assume is the reason."
No one had any response to that.
"Also, here." Grace once again held out her hand, the little lobster - if it was the same one - holding a much smaller round. "Light AA round."
"44mm." Wayne said after she had retrieved it and examined it. "Also longer and heavier than normal, at 2.26 kg. Still no markings, and I see you're not using an integrated cartridge. Still has the aluminum sheath, teardrop hexagon pattern, and the saline solution is present on this round as well."
"40mm or 76mm, pick one for light AA." Sophia said.
"Hey, 44mm with proximity fuses will kill planes just fine, right?" Wayne stated more than asked. "Anyway, enough chat. Grace, can you get your rigging on?"
"Sorry, no." Grace shook her head, blushing a pale grey. "It's big and I have to be on water to summon it."
Wayne just gave her a look, before pulling out a tablet. There were several moments of silence while she tapped on it.
"Okay, do you want to march back up and down to one of the medical dock, or have Doctor Merida do her examination first and then go down to a wet dock?" Wayne asked.
"Doctor Merida can go first." Grace said after a moment, grimacing.
The doctor started off with a very similar lecture to what Amelia had heard nearly a decade ago, back when she had gotten the same examination. The poor girl didn't stop blushing dark grey, as the hospital ship laid out the facts and anatomy, complete with a folder of anatomical diagrams.
After that came the examination itself. Doctor Wayne assisted by acting in place of stirrups, which had been a change to the procedure implemented sometime between when shipgirls had started getting appointments for this and when Amelia had gotten her first and only appointment so far. And that had been under a week.
As it turned out, Wayne's full strength was not needed to keep an embarrassed fleet carrier from destroying Merida's bridge. Having to come back later would have just made things complicated and more awkward, especially for the poor girl. Grace had gotten a shipgirl stress ball, which she was kneading during the entire exam. Then came an ultrasound, which had all three doctors looking at the display with very interesting expressions.
"How bad is it?" Grace asked, wincing hard enough Amelia was worried she was going to pull a muscle in her face.
"It's not necessarily bad." Wayne said. "It is, however, different compared to what we've studied. We don't know the early warning signs we would for the default human anatomy. We don't even know what functions are assigned to what organs."
"Also, we can see corridors on the ultrasound and those are cutting our resolution down quite a bit. The scanner doesn't know what to do with air pockets." Merida said. "But it is my professional opinion that you do have a complete set of reproductive organs. And that's good."
"Yeah, that's good!" Grace started tearing up, while also grinning.
"Grace, before you get too invested." Merida patted Grace on the shoulder. "I have no idea if those even work in any sense. And you might not be genetically compatible with humans or shipgirls. But honestly, I'm going to make a note in your file that I have no clue what is going on with your insides, and to make no assumptions."
"Really, no assumptions?" Fowler asked.
"Can you say with certainty that she even does live birth?" Merida asked.
Grace had switched to looking completely lost.
"No, I cannot." Fowler shook her head, then turned back to the patient. "Grace? We'll get a better picture if we can get scans from around your abdomen. For that matter, should we make it a full torso scan as well?"
Grace, despite looking like she was about to cry, nodded.
"Grace, you can say no." Fowler said. "I don't want to hurt you."
Grace curled up and hugged herself.
"That is a no." Fowler said.
There was a knock on the door.
"Commander Fuller here to see Miss Batoidea, ma'am." Smith announced through the door.
Everyone except Grace shared glances at that.
"Let them in." Fowler stated after a moment.
The troopship entered proudly. She had a "7" as her pennant number, indicated by a badge on her sleeve, but there wasn't a type code.
"Commander Fuller." Fowler said. "What brings you here?"
The shipgirl pulled out a folder. "I have orders to conduct an internal search of Miss Batoidea's body, and document her internals, including her hanger, munition storages, and engine rooms."
"Are you-" Fowler started, only to be interrupted by a ping coming from Fuller's forehead.
Amelia snatched the golden nugget out of the air. It was... a piece of a stress ball? She checked, and Grace had clenched down on her ball hard.
"No." The girl whispered.
"Commander, under whose authority are you doing this?" Barker asked.
"These orders come directly from Admiral Simmons. I will be carrying out my orders."
"Commander." Fowler stated. "Stop. Now."
Captain U.S.S. Amelia Barker called action stations mostly as a formality, her crew already moving towards their posts by her mood.
"Just close your eyes. This won't take long."
"Stop. That's-" Fowler stepped towards Fuller, but the smaller shipgirl slipped past her. Fowler spun around.
"No." Grace glared at Fuller. The white lines on her lapels were glowing bright red, flames flickering along them.
Fowler lunged forward, her arm raising-.
"I outrank you, so-" Fuller said, her hand going as far as to touch Grace's shoulder.
Fuller smashed halfway into the wall, her side crumpled like a beer can by the blow. She dropped to the floor. Then Grace stomped, the exam chair exploded, and the entire building shook. Amelia put her hand through the wall behind her as she stumbled, then she straightened up. She nearly lost her balance as the fragments of the floor slid under her.
"Smith! Mirka! Maintain the perimeter!" She bellowed. The humans couldn't help, and just the chair fragments would have hospitalized them at minimum. If this wasn't clean.... "Alden! Secure Commander Fuller!" But the risk of that could be reduced, with the right actions.
Grace backed up, stopping when she realized that she was moving through the wall. Amelia stepped towards her, grabbed Merida's arm and pulled her back, and trained all her weapons on Grace.
"Please stay away!" Her hands were up in front of her, and she was hunched over.
Amelia held up her hand, palm out. "Hold it."
"Holding position." She squeaked.
Amelia dropped her hand down, and kept them at her sides. Her weapons stayed as they were. It would be a violation of protocol for her not to do this, even if Grace probably needed a hug. But right now Grace needed her space, and even if Amelia put her hand out again Grace wouldn't be able to reach it.
There was the sound of falling drywall, as no one said anything for several moments.
Fowler sighed.
"Commander Fuller." She stated. "Who is the medical officer in charge of Miss Batoidea's treatment currently?"
"That..." Fuller rasped. Amelia turned her head around to look. Fuller's arm was nearly torn off, smoke was slipping from her nose and the rents in her torso, and her legs were bent as well, jagged gaps in the metal of her hull torn open there.
There was a brief pause as Fuller coughed. Alden had her weapons trained on Fuller, and her arms crossed. Fowler had a similar pose. Merida was sheltering under the bulk of Wayne, in the corner.
"That would be -" Fuller was interrupted by another cough- "-you, ma'am."
"Glad we agree on that." Fowler snarked. "Now, what makes you think you can conduct medical tests on my patient without her consent?"
"...had orders." Fuller got out.
"I didn't see them. Neither did Miss Batoidea. No one in this room saw them. Next question: what does this badge represent?" She pointed at her lapel. Amelia remembered the eagle with its shield and rod there.
There was silence.
"It means I fucking outrank you, Commander!" Fowler shouted. "It means when I say 'stop,' you stop! It does not mean you brush past me like that! It means you are keeping your damaged aft right where it is until you have completed the paperwork explaining precisely how you fucked up!"
Fuller remained silent.
"This is not fucking Omaha Beach! This is a medical bay! This is not a place where you need to capture objectives at all costs!" The doctor punctuated her point with a finger aimed directly at the damaged ship's face.
"Next question! Where is Miss Batoidea's rank insignia!?" Fowler shouted.
Fuller tried to make a pained expression before answering. "She... doesn't have one."
"Correct! Because she's a goddamn civilian! Which means we are operating under civilian medical ethics! You and Admiral Simmons can take your orders and toss them in your bilges! She does not consent to the exam, and I have zero reason to force it!" The doctor crossed her hands under her chest.
"And if we were running under military ethics, then I still would have stopped you while I called Admiral Constance and asked him if he thought there was a speck of a good idea involved here!" Fowler punctuated this point with an out stretched hand, palm angled to stop and push Fuller down.
Fowler turned and walked to the door, then forced it open from the bent frame.
"Corporal Smith. Call for medical assistance and MPs for Commander Fuller. Once they arrive, Miss Batoidea and her escort will be going to a medical dock for the remainder of her examinations. I will be joining them shortly, after helping Commander Fuller with her paperwork for the incident."
"Yes ma'am." The human nodded, and grabbed his phone.
"Grace, I need to know: did you expect that level of damage to happen?" Fowler asked.
"No." Grace whimpered, shrinking in on herself more than before. "I just tried to shove her off!"
"Relax, you're probably in the clear. You do have the advantage of optics on your side, at least if we can keep your picture out of the media. 'Navy attempts to prosecute civilian girl for resisting untested medical procedure' will make a lot of trouble for the brass." Fowler shrugged.
That did not seem to help. Maybe three minutes later, the reinforcements arrived. Grace had spent the time quietly whimpering, eyes darting about.
Yeah, this took a while because i was a little wary about publishing it. I actually have chapter 5 done and I'm maybe halfway through chapter 6. And I'm working ahead on Chapter ⅞ too (not sure what the order's gonna be.)
Grace's notes 4
So we, get to see more of Grace today. Possibly more than she'd like us to see.
Anyway, Grace's ammo. At least she doesn't have to worry about moving it. Grace's 44mm magazines are monotype - that is, she can only have one type of ammo for those. Her 169mm magazines are bi-mixed, and can store two types of ammo. Her current loadout is 260 rounds proxflak and 40 rounds fireburst per turret. (HEI, high-explosive incendiary) Plus her 432,000 rounds of 44mm proxflak.
Unlike IRL warships, which didn't stockpile all of their ammo per-mount for these kinds of weapons, Grace's ammo is per-turret and she can't really transfer the rounds between guns. (That wince? She was cutting into a feed belt to remove a round. Not something you want to do on the regular.) On the other hand, she can just have her ammo glands make more.
Also, Grace is unable to handle caffeine. On the other hand, unlike every other shipgirl ever, she doesn't need such a crutch. The details of this will be revealed later.
