aledeth
The Flesh is Weak
- Pronouns
- He/Him
How is North a nickname for Nashville. unless this is an artifact from when Nash was a different ship?
All Wo-rk and No Play: An Abyssal's Trials in the Job Market (KC)
- Thread starter PyrrhicSteel
- Start date
How is North a nickname for Nashville. unless this is an artifact from when Nash was a different ship?
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Crap, after posting this I realized Nashville transformed into Northampton halfway through and then back into Nashville at the end of the chapter. Must have missed that in my Ctrl+F edit to fix things.
Heaven Canceler
I would like to have a cool title.
- Location
- Austria
Ah, I can see some poor fool trying to bribe our favorite Abyssal with properly cooked fish only to end up taken along as her ship chef.
for all we know, abyssals find raw fish tastier then cooked...
Heaven Canceler
I would like to have a cool title.
- Location
- Austria
Perhaps Sushi then? Add some spieces to underline the natural taste and you have an addicted killer boat waifu.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
And that was how I seduced an evil aircraft carrier with fish.
5: Trinitite Learns Utilitarianism
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
The steel-hulled destroyer was accompanied by three others, these ones sharing Trinitite's dual nature. If that was the full extent of the force, Trinitite would already be in trouble, but the enemy had been reinforced when a helicopter had landed on the destroyer. It could have been anything from a squadron of destroyers to a line of battleships. As the human ship towered over the fishing trawler, she was starting to feel a little cornered.
"Are you certain this ship can't go any faster?" This wasn't the first time Trinitite asked this question, but with the task force hovering behind them, the helpless Abyssal found herself querying the Captain with greater desperation. The fishing trawler wasn't built for speed, yes, but surely without armor and weapons they could go a little faster?
"Aye." The captain replied, nodding solemnly. She'd plotted a course for a section of the American coast that didn't seem particularly inhabited, and so far it seemed the Captain was holding to it. Trinitite reviewed the trawler's navigation equipment again, including the ever-intriguing 'GPS' device, but couldn't find anything suspicious. It seemed like they were cooperating with her, although she knew their true loyalties lay with her pursuers.
"Attention Pacific Lilly!" Trinitite jumped, spinning to face the approaching destroyer. The human ship had closed to less than 100 yards, and on her bow stood a sailor with a surprisingly small speaking trumpet.
Huh. When she muted the radio, she hadn't expected them to just sail up and start talking, although of course they would. Trinitite, you idiot! Stupid, stupid Wo!
"Abyssal Vessel. I can see you in the bridge."
Trinitite stared blankly at the enemy sailor, her mouth agape. What now? Obviously they weren't going away any time soon. Should she tell The Captain to talk to them? Just walk out and start speaking? What would she even say? She needed a moment to get her thoughts together.
"Captain…" Trinitite started, grabbing the back of the man's jacket and pushing him towards the door. "Deal with them!"
Captain Kelly paused, turning craning his neck to get a look at the abyssal. "What, they clearly want to talk to-"
"You first!" She barked, grabbing a similarly small speaking trumpet from the bridge's bulkhead and shoving it into the larger man's chest. Over the week she'd spent riding on The Pacific Lilly, the crew had started to relax around her. She was starting to regret that.
As The Captain stumbled outside to face the destroyer, Trinitite plopped down in his chair, staring into the GPS screen. The Pacific Lilly was over four hundred miles from the mainland. Hopefully keeping the crew of the trawler intact would stop them from outright sinking her, but they had plenty of shipgirls. What was going to stop them from boarding, wrestling Trinitite off the ship, and then sinking her? The ship had to throw Trinitite a rope to let her board, but the massive destroyer next to the trawler provided a great point for them to to throw a rope themselves or just jump.
So… she had to convince them to let her onto their mainland. She briefly thought of telling them about her princess, but that thought was crushed in an instant. These were the people who had almost used her mother up, then turned on her the moment the opportunity for a better weapon presented itself. These were the people who would sink her in a heartbeat if she wasn't surrounded by some of their own. These were the people who took her Princess from her.
If she wanted the time to make it to the mainland, Trinitite was going to have to get creative, wasn't she?
- - -
"That's a relief."
Nashville blinked, turning away from the CIC's display.
"What?"
"Looks like the target is an aircraft carrier. Easy pickings, at this range."
Like almost every officer Nashville had encountered, Commander Michael Iniguez was younger than his rank would hint at. Between massive casualties at the beginning of the war, more than one political shakeup, and the Navy's major expansion, pretty much everyone in the prewar navy found themselves at least one paygrade above where they'd started. Nashville didn't know how the man landed his post as the Captain of the Benfold, but so far he seemed worthy of it.
Nashville looked back at the screen, currently displaying a feed taken from a sailor next to Lieutenant Murray. As the ONI Lieutenant started interrogating the Pacific Lilly's Captain over megaphone, the camera focused on the monster huddled in the fishing trawler's bridge. Nashville had studied her identification charts whenever she had the time to, but she couldn't immediately draw a parallel from the cowering girl in the ship and the tall, mushroom-capped monsters who defined any fleet they were a part of. Here, seeing her without her most identifying features and through a camera, her true nature was pretty obscured.
"You can tell from the cape." Captain Iniguez continued, his voice echoing even in the busy CIC. "That toothy neck guard seems to stay behind when they dismiss their rigging."
"I didn't know abyssals had rigging." Nashville replied. She felt something like that would be good to know, although she couldn't think of many situations where it would be useful knowledge. Then again, she wouldn't have thought this could happen, either. Better throw that suggestion up the chain of command when she had the time.
"We see it pretty often when we spy on them." Captain Iniguez replied, not taking his eyes off the screen. "You were part of the force that hit Bikini, right? You must have missed them in the reconnaissance reports."
Nashville grunted noncommittally, turning back to the live feed. The Captain of the fishing trawler was saying that so far none of his crew had been hurt by the creature when the Wo-class abruptly stood, striding out of the bridge and grabbing the megaphone from the human. She brought the thing to her mouth, said something which the camera's microphone couldn't pick up, then brought it down and looked at The Fisherman. He pointed to a spot on the device, and the Abyssal nodded. When the megaphone finally crackled to life, the Abyssal's surprisingly human voice emanated from the computer's speakers.
"I'm borrowing this ship. Go away."
There was a moment of silence as the intelligence officer mulled over the abrupt statement. Nashville recalled something from her initial briefing. She'd said the same thing over the radio, right?
"…I'm afraid we can't do that, Miss." Murray's reply was exactly what she would expect.
"You'll get them back." The Abyssal replied, and Nashville couldn't help but snort. Did an Abyssal think her word meant anything?
"Forgive us if we don't trust you." Murray replied. Why was he bothering with such politeness? Was this a game to him? "How about you hand her crew over and we'll talk about this without resorting to hostages?"
"No! I know why you haven't sunk me already!" The response was immediate, hurried.
"Okay." The Lieutenant replied, drawing out his response. "You're heading for land, correct? Why don't you leave these poor fishermen alone and come aboard? We can take you where you need to go."
"I'm not letting that thing on my ship." Captain Iniguez growled, and Nashville found herself nodding. What was the Spook trying to do?
"Really?" The Abyssal's voice rose in excitement, before she suddenly stopped and shook her head. "No, you're trying to trick me."
"I guess it was worth a try?" Nashville commented, shaking her head in return. That got a lot closer to working than it had any right to. She didn't realize 'hopeful' was an adjective you could use to describe abyssals. This one must be particularly desperate.
"If you don't trust us not to give you a ride, why do you trust us not to sink the Pacific Lilly?"
"You wouldn't do that! You're belong to the same nation, right? Humans don't kill their own people!" Somebody behind the pair barked a laugh, but when the Captain turned the CIC's crew had returned to their duties.
"I think my theory was correct." Nashville stated, watching the monster's pose as she shouted back at the Benfold.
"Your theory?" Captain Iniguez asked, turning away from the monitor.
"This Abyssal's an idiot. We're overestimating her."
"It could be an act." The Captain pointed out, but Nashville only returned his statement with a shrug.
"You know, a carrier like you probably has a lot of bombers. At this range, our ship's guns would down anything you launched, but once you get on land? She couldn't follow you, and you could launch them with impunity. If we let that happen, how many people could die?"
"I'm not going to hurt anyone!" The abyssal shouted. Nashville wasn't sure if she was a camera artifact, but it seemed like the abyssal's eyes were glowing in different colors. That meant she was, at least to some degree, a veteran of the war so far. 'Not going to hurt anyone' her aft.
"We don't know that." The Lieutenant replied, his voice even. "How many people could you kill with your bombers? More than the crew of the Pacific Lilly?"
Silence descended between the two ships as the Abyssal stared back at the Lieutenant. Nashville could almost feel the little carrier's plans falling apart around her.
"You're threatening them?" She shouted, incredulous and desperate. "Isn't that my job?"
"You seem pretty reasonable, so I'll give you this to think about: Whatever it is that's so important you have to get to the coast?" The abyssal said nothing, so Lieutenant Murray continued. "If you keep doing this, you won't make it. We've given you other options, ma'am, consider them."
At that, the Lieutenant brought the megaphone down, turned his back on the Abyssal, and walked away.
"She could break him in two, yet he played her like a fiddle the entire time." Nashville piped up, watching the Abyssal drop the megaphone and dash belowdecks. "Remind me never play that man in poker."
"She might also be more inclined to talk next time he calls her." The Commander looked away from the feed, shaking his head. "But I'm afraid the Abyssal going to be more likely to try something desperate."
"Let her." Nashville replied, flexing her fingers and letting her knuckles pop. "I've never gotten to sink another ship before." There wasn't any way to be sure, but Nashville was certain Benfold agreed with her statement.
"Are you certain this ship can't go any faster?" This wasn't the first time Trinitite asked this question, but with the task force hovering behind them, the helpless Abyssal found herself querying the Captain with greater desperation. The fishing trawler wasn't built for speed, yes, but surely without armor and weapons they could go a little faster?
"Aye." The captain replied, nodding solemnly. She'd plotted a course for a section of the American coast that didn't seem particularly inhabited, and so far it seemed the Captain was holding to it. Trinitite reviewed the trawler's navigation equipment again, including the ever-intriguing 'GPS' device, but couldn't find anything suspicious. It seemed like they were cooperating with her, although she knew their true loyalties lay with her pursuers.
"Attention Pacific Lilly!" Trinitite jumped, spinning to face the approaching destroyer. The human ship had closed to less than 100 yards, and on her bow stood a sailor with a surprisingly small speaking trumpet.
Huh. When she muted the radio, she hadn't expected them to just sail up and start talking, although of course they would. Trinitite, you idiot! Stupid, stupid Wo!
"Abyssal Vessel. I can see you in the bridge."
Trinitite stared blankly at the enemy sailor, her mouth agape. What now? Obviously they weren't going away any time soon. Should she tell The Captain to talk to them? Just walk out and start speaking? What would she even say? She needed a moment to get her thoughts together.
"Captain…" Trinitite started, grabbing the back of the man's jacket and pushing him towards the door. "Deal with them!"
Captain Kelly paused, turning craning his neck to get a look at the abyssal. "What, they clearly want to talk to-"
"You first!" She barked, grabbing a similarly small speaking trumpet from the bridge's bulkhead and shoving it into the larger man's chest. Over the week she'd spent riding on The Pacific Lilly, the crew had started to relax around her. She was starting to regret that.
As The Captain stumbled outside to face the destroyer, Trinitite plopped down in his chair, staring into the GPS screen. The Pacific Lilly was over four hundred miles from the mainland. Hopefully keeping the crew of the trawler intact would stop them from outright sinking her, but they had plenty of shipgirls. What was going to stop them from boarding, wrestling Trinitite off the ship, and then sinking her? The ship had to throw Trinitite a rope to let her board, but the massive destroyer next to the trawler provided a great point for them to to throw a rope themselves or just jump.
So… she had to convince them to let her onto their mainland. She briefly thought of telling them about her princess, but that thought was crushed in an instant. These were the people who had almost used her mother up, then turned on her the moment the opportunity for a better weapon presented itself. These were the people who would sink her in a heartbeat if she wasn't surrounded by some of their own. These were the people who took her Princess from her.
If she wanted the time to make it to the mainland, Trinitite was going to have to get creative, wasn't she?
- - -
"That's a relief."
Nashville blinked, turning away from the CIC's display.
"What?"
"Looks like the target is an aircraft carrier. Easy pickings, at this range."
Like almost every officer Nashville had encountered, Commander Michael Iniguez was younger than his rank would hint at. Between massive casualties at the beginning of the war, more than one political shakeup, and the Navy's major expansion, pretty much everyone in the prewar navy found themselves at least one paygrade above where they'd started. Nashville didn't know how the man landed his post as the Captain of the Benfold, but so far he seemed worthy of it.
Nashville looked back at the screen, currently displaying a feed taken from a sailor next to Lieutenant Murray. As the ONI Lieutenant started interrogating the Pacific Lilly's Captain over megaphone, the camera focused on the monster huddled in the fishing trawler's bridge. Nashville had studied her identification charts whenever she had the time to, but she couldn't immediately draw a parallel from the cowering girl in the ship and the tall, mushroom-capped monsters who defined any fleet they were a part of. Here, seeing her without her most identifying features and through a camera, her true nature was pretty obscured.
"You can tell from the cape." Captain Iniguez continued, his voice echoing even in the busy CIC. "That toothy neck guard seems to stay behind when they dismiss their rigging."
"I didn't know abyssals had rigging." Nashville replied. She felt something like that would be good to know, although she couldn't think of many situations where it would be useful knowledge. Then again, she wouldn't have thought this could happen, either. Better throw that suggestion up the chain of command when she had the time.
"We see it pretty often when we spy on them." Captain Iniguez replied, not taking his eyes off the screen. "You were part of the force that hit Bikini, right? You must have missed them in the reconnaissance reports."
Nashville grunted noncommittally, turning back to the live feed. The Captain of the fishing trawler was saying that so far none of his crew had been hurt by the creature when the Wo-class abruptly stood, striding out of the bridge and grabbing the megaphone from the human. She brought the thing to her mouth, said something which the camera's microphone couldn't pick up, then brought it down and looked at The Fisherman. He pointed to a spot on the device, and the Abyssal nodded. When the megaphone finally crackled to life, the Abyssal's surprisingly human voice emanated from the computer's speakers.
"I'm borrowing this ship. Go away."
There was a moment of silence as the intelligence officer mulled over the abrupt statement. Nashville recalled something from her initial briefing. She'd said the same thing over the radio, right?
"…I'm afraid we can't do that, Miss." Murray's reply was exactly what she would expect.
"You'll get them back." The Abyssal replied, and Nashville couldn't help but snort. Did an Abyssal think her word meant anything?
"Forgive us if we don't trust you." Murray replied. Why was he bothering with such politeness? Was this a game to him? "How about you hand her crew over and we'll talk about this without resorting to hostages?"
"No! I know why you haven't sunk me already!" The response was immediate, hurried.
"Okay." The Lieutenant replied, drawing out his response. "You're heading for land, correct? Why don't you leave these poor fishermen alone and come aboard? We can take you where you need to go."
"I'm not letting that thing on my ship." Captain Iniguez growled, and Nashville found herself nodding. What was the Spook trying to do?
"Really?" The Abyssal's voice rose in excitement, before she suddenly stopped and shook her head. "No, you're trying to trick me."
"I guess it was worth a try?" Nashville commented, shaking her head in return. That got a lot closer to working than it had any right to. She didn't realize 'hopeful' was an adjective you could use to describe abyssals. This one must be particularly desperate.
"If you don't trust us not to give you a ride, why do you trust us not to sink the Pacific Lilly?"
"You wouldn't do that! You're belong to the same nation, right? Humans don't kill their own people!" Somebody behind the pair barked a laugh, but when the Captain turned the CIC's crew had returned to their duties.
"I think my theory was correct." Nashville stated, watching the monster's pose as she shouted back at the Benfold.
"Your theory?" Captain Iniguez asked, turning away from the monitor.
"This Abyssal's an idiot. We're overestimating her."
"It could be an act." The Captain pointed out, but Nashville only returned his statement with a shrug.
"You know, a carrier like you probably has a lot of bombers. At this range, our ship's guns would down anything you launched, but once you get on land? She couldn't follow you, and you could launch them with impunity. If we let that happen, how many people could die?"
"I'm not going to hurt anyone!" The abyssal shouted. Nashville wasn't sure if she was a camera artifact, but it seemed like the abyssal's eyes were glowing in different colors. That meant she was, at least to some degree, a veteran of the war so far. 'Not going to hurt anyone' her aft.
"We don't know that." The Lieutenant replied, his voice even. "How many people could you kill with your bombers? More than the crew of the Pacific Lilly?"
Silence descended between the two ships as the Abyssal stared back at the Lieutenant. Nashville could almost feel the little carrier's plans falling apart around her.
"You're threatening them?" She shouted, incredulous and desperate. "Isn't that my job?"
"You seem pretty reasonable, so I'll give you this to think about: Whatever it is that's so important you have to get to the coast?" The abyssal said nothing, so Lieutenant Murray continued. "If you keep doing this, you won't make it. We've given you other options, ma'am, consider them."
At that, the Lieutenant brought the megaphone down, turned his back on the Abyssal, and walked away.
"She could break him in two, yet he played her like a fiddle the entire time." Nashville piped up, watching the Abyssal drop the megaphone and dash belowdecks. "Remind me never play that man in poker."
"She might also be more inclined to talk next time he calls her." The Commander looked away from the feed, shaking his head. "But I'm afraid the Abyssal going to be more likely to try something desperate."
"Let her." Nashville replied, flexing her fingers and letting her knuckles pop. "I've never gotten to sink another ship before." There wasn't any way to be sure, but Nashville was certain Benfold agreed with her statement.
Well, that went out faster than I expected. Hope you enjoy!
We're looking at one more part of this ocean shit before we move on to the point of this fic.
We're looking at one more part of this ocean shit before we move on to the point of this fic.
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and here i was enjoying this ocean part.
which point is it, i wonder
nullptr
Mostly Harmless
- Location
- The 906
Trini gets a job at McDonalds and somehow gets employee of the month.
I'm really liking this so far. The contrasts between how Trini is acting and how the shipgirls, Nashville in particular, is striking. She's behaving less Abyssal hate monster than they are right now. May that have something to do with her eyes glowing different colors? I suspect that the allies believe only princess level Abyssals can be turned since they represent real ships, whereas the rank and file don't, so her acting reasonably non-threatening is throwing them. Of course, she can't really be threatening right now with her damage, but she really doesn't want them to know that.
Looking forward to seeing where this goes.
Darik29
Verified Delicious
Is it wrong I honestly think poor Trinitite is being super adorable right now?
Like, she literally tells them to go away. And that she'll give the ship back when she's done with it.
I feel like she just needs a hug or something. Poor dear just wants to find her momma.
Now, when Saratoga finds out Trinitite still lives, Then things get to be Interesting!
Like, she literally tells them to go away. And that she'll give the ship back when she's done with it.
I feel like she just needs a hug or something. Poor dear just wants to find her momma.
Now, when Saratoga finds out Trinitite still lives, Then things get to be Interesting!
Heaven Canceler
I would like to have a cool title.
- Location
- Austria
"Oh, I left behind my daughter whom I made while I was high on pure undiluted evil. And I left her after the people whom I joined killed all my other daughters in front of her."
Urgh... poor sisters and shit... wonder if they could be resummoned? I mean, they already summon sunk ships and shit, so why not summon a sunk shipgirl? Make a double-shipgirl out of it^^
Urgh... poor sisters and shit... wonder if they could be resummoned? I mean, they already summon sunk ships and shit, so why not summon a sunk shipgirl? Make a double-shipgirl out of it^^
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Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
I find it interesting that it hasn't occurred to anyone that Abyssals are very uncomplicated, animalistic creatures and that the reason Trini is acting like a naive child that is way out of her depth is because that is in fact what she is.
They seem to be expecting Trini to be thinking and acting like a human (or shipgirl) would, but Abyssals are more like intelligent sharks that are also warships than anything else. The only exposure an Abyssal has to humans and human things is attacking them, and Abyssal 'diplomacy' pretty much just boils down to 'do what the Princess says'. Odd that no-one seems to have sat down and tried to consider things from the Abyssal's point of view, especially given that they've been fighting the Abyssals long enough for their animalistic nature to be fairly obvious, not even taking into account the memories of 'rescued' former Abyssal shipgirls.
Whatever happened to 'know your enemy'?
They seem to be expecting Trini to be thinking and acting like a human (or shipgirl) would, but Abyssals are more like intelligent sharks that are also warships than anything else. The only exposure an Abyssal has to humans and human things is attacking them, and Abyssal 'diplomacy' pretty much just boils down to 'do what the Princess says'. Odd that no-one seems to have sat down and tried to consider things from the Abyssal's point of view, especially given that they've been fighting the Abyssals long enough for their animalistic nature to be fairly obvious, not even taking into account the memories of 'rescued' former Abyssal shipgirls.
Whatever happened to 'know your enemy'?
- Location
- Kansas
Maybe trinitite is out of her depth... I mean, this is probably the first time something like this happened
- Location
- earth's dirty crust
Everyone are out of their depth at this chapter yo. The difference is that the spook and Nashville have a lot more experience and knowledge about what's there outside of their depth. Also, more firepower, even if they don't know it yet.
Not trinite tho, she's less put of her depth, and more of a fish out of the water, and are confused why can it breathe on air.
Gotta admit that for all she's naive and such, she's kinda smart for a thing that literally know nothing of the world.
Not trinite tho, she's less put of her depth, and more of a fish out of the water, and are confused why can it breathe on air.
Gotta admit that for all she's naive and such, she's kinda smart for a thing that literally know nothing of the world.
6: Shots Fired
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Before they encountered the Navy Strike Force, Trinitite hadn't interacted much with the crew. She still had plenty of food stored from Bikini, so there wasn't much reason to enter the galley beyond curiosity. She hadn't slept since the Firebringers first hit Bikini, but she still figured she had three weeks or so before rest became a serious issue. As far as she was concerned, there wasn't much reason to do more than hover around the bridge, watching and adjusting The Pacific Lilly's course while everyone else pretended the Abyssal wasn't there.
Now? Standing on the bridge meant she was in clear sight of four enemy warships, and every moment she watched she could feel their rangefinders boring into her hull. She was running out of ideas, and standing still no longer sat well with her. Finally, the ultimatum from the Navy meant that her actions would have a significant effect on the crew of the Pacific Lilly, a responsibility she hadn't had before.
So, here she was, inside the Trawler's minuscule galley, watching the normal bridge crew eat as she continued racking her brain.
"God damnit." A sailor cursed, staring at a device on the table. "You'd think we'd get cell coverage this close to shore."
The 'negotiations' had stretched on for days, due in part to Trinitite's efforts in making sure they went nowhere. It would have been more than enough time for the Fishing Trawler to make it to shore, if the steel-hull destroyer hadn't fired a shell over The Pacific Lilly's bow and stated the ship had gotten close enough, thank you.
Not that she could blame Captain Kelley for stopping. While the hills and trees of the mainland were barely visible over the horizon, getting any closer would only result in all of them sinking. One, maybe two more nautical miles, and she might consider taking her chances and make a dash ashore, but out here they could easily run her down and tear her apart. With the Navy's ultimatum, The Pacific Lilly couldn't make that distance without itself getting sunk.
"That's a national park out there." The sonar operator muttered, taking a bite from a strange meal in front of her. "Not many cell towers."
"They're jamming us." Captain Kelly grunted, dropping a plate of similar food on the table and taking a seat. "They don't want this situation getting out to the public."
Apparently, you were supposed to burn a fish, before tearing it apart with tools designed specifically for preparing it for consumption. Then you were allowed to eat it. For the life of her Trinitite couldn't figure out why they made process so complicated.
Still, they had to make all those changes for a reason. Trinitite had her doubts on the meal in front of the Captain, but she figured trying it out wouldn't hurt anything.
"Give me one of those." Trinitite stated, pointing at the strange food. Idly, she wondered what they had done with the rest of the fish. She wouldn't put it past the humans to toss 90% of a meal out, but even that seemed excessively wasteful.
"My dinner?"
"Yes."
The Captain grunted, standing back up and sliding the plate to Trinitite. "I'll be right back."
Trinitite stared at the dish, using one of the tools to poke at the strange meat in front of her. On closer inspection, the meat wasn't like anything she'd she'd seen before: A bit stringy, but a poke with the multi-pronged tool revealed it to be surprisingly tender. The yellow sauce that coated the meat, along with the strange white pellets it sat upon, didn't help in identifying it. What kind of fish was this?
"Never eaten chicken before?"
The sudden comment caused Trinitite to jump, looking up to view the sonar operator. Her and the other sailor were watching her poke at her meal, wearing perhaps the least hostile expressions the Abyssal had seen on them.
"Chicken?"
"It's a bird."
Trinitite stared back at her food with a noncommittal "Oh." She'd had birds before, but they tended to be too tough for her liking. Experimental prodding yielded significantly softer meat than what she would expect, which was odd. Didn't birds have to be lean and tough in order to fly and catch their prey? Whatever bird this came from must have been fat and lazy. Maybe that was why she hadn't immediately drawn the connection.
She stabbed one of the chunks of meat, bringing it up to her face and slowly spinning it in front of her. The morsel steamed, and a smell unlike anything she'd experienced before tickled her nostrils as it's scent wafted towards her. Some of the strange white pellets hung in the thick sauce that encased it. The carrier… wasn't sure what to make of it.
With a sigh, The Abyssal placed the food back on it's plate and leaned back in her chair. She should be eating whenever she had the opportunity, but food wasn't all that appealing when you knew death was bearing down on you like an impossibly thick spread of torpedoes.
"I'm going to die here, aren't I?"
This was it. No matter what she did here, the sheer amount of firepower the Navy had arrayed against her would smash her like a lifeboat in a typhoon. She was never going to make it to her mainland. She was never going to get a chance to investigate her princess, and she would never enjoy her sweet, cool embrace again.
She was going to try, of course. She'd never consider giving anything less than her life for her Princess, after all. Trinitite had some experience dealing with incoming missiles and torpedoes, but the guns on the destroyers were a threat she wasn't sure how to handle.
"That's not guaranteed." Trinitite's attention was pulled back to the two sailors at the table. The sonar operator's statement, while not comforting like she'd expect from her old fleet, at least seemed neutral.
"Why not?" She replied, confused.
The woman stared at her for half a second, a thoughtful look on her face.
"You know, I've been thinking." She said, turning her attention back to her food. "What's so important to an Abyssal they're willing to put up with a boat-full of people?" She speared a chunk of chicken with one of her tools, pointing the meat at Trinitite. "Your and our kind aren't exactly on speaking terms."
"Yeah," The other man interjected. "What in The States is so important?"
Trinitite stared back at the pair, her mind racing. Before this point, they hadn't shown any interest in her motives, only her actions. If they were prying into them, did that mean they were thinking about helping her, or were they just curious? They Abyssal looked back at her food, sighed, and took a chance. She was dead if she didn't try, anyways.
"I'm… looking for someone." She started, mentally rearranging the truth into something she would be comfortable sharing. "We were close before she suddenly left, and I think she ran here." Whatever she told them, the Navy could interrogate out of them, so she wanted to be vague. No point giving the enemy a reason to hide Her Princess.
"What, like an, undercover agent?"
"I wish it was that simple." Trinitite replied, shaking her head. "I don't know where she is or what she's doing. I don't even know why she's in 'The States'."
"Then how do you know she's there?" The man replied, pointing over his shoulder towards the hidden shore.
"I do." Trinitite replied, certainty in her voice. "I'm not sure I want the Navy to know how."
"So you're looking for a lost friend?" The woman said, a smirk appearing on her features. "Or lover?"
Trinitite nodded. "Yes, that's true." She did love her mother, after all.
"Alright…" the man nodded, sharing a glance with his partner. "Because Kelley and I had an idea…"
As the fishermen explained their plan, Trinitite found herself more at ease. She didn't see it giving her much more of a chance, but it just might be enough.
Without fully thinking about it, The Abyssal grabbed the tool on her plate, popping the piece of chicken in her mouth. Even with the blood that had been drained out, it was pleasantly juicy, and while the flavor on the sauce was unique, she couldn't say she hated it. There was another feeling, though, that she registered as she swallowed her bite. A faint tingle, that seemed to get stronger as she thought about it.
Trinitite's eyes widened, before she suddenly coughed. The odd tingle started to burn, before spiking in intensity and scorching her throat. Forget the meat, what… what kind of weapon was in that sauce?
Alarms sounded inside her. Fire suppression systems activated as damage control personnel scurried through her decks, frantically searching for the damage. As the Wo-Class carrier keeled over, clawing at her throat, the portion of her mind not consumed by pain detected… laughter?
"Oh god, there's nothing spicy in the Ocean, is there?" The sonar operator laughed, ignoring Trinitite's glare and pushing a glass full of some white substance towards her. "Drink this. It should help with the curry."
As the strange liquid poured down her throat and doused the fire raging below-decks, Trinitite made note in her log: Just like in a real battle, incomplete knowledge about the human world was going to get her killed.
- - -
Where are you going now?
At first, USS Benfold had pitied the Pacific Lilly. She wouldn't have approved of the poor Trawler's decision to venture beyond the Navy's protection, but having to host an Abyssal was a fate she wouldn't wish on any ship, let alone a civilian one. The terrified vessel had been hysteric when the missile destroyer had arrived, pleading with Benfold to remove the monster that had taken her hostage.
Then the ultimatum had been delivered, and after a few days of pointless chatter between that thing and Lieutenant Murray, Benfold had been forced to fire a warning shot over the Pacific Lilly.
South.
She'd become much less cooperative after that.
I could tell that, Lilly. Why?
If Benfold hadn't known better, she would have thought the fishing trawler was working with The Abyssal, now. Her responses were irritated, and unhelpful, and the ship took every opportunity she could to insult the Benfold.
You don't need to know that.
Benfold could feel her temper rising, but she tried to stay calm. This was a stressful situation, after all, and rationality was unfortunately rare in stressful situations. If she just explained things…
Yes, I do. If that thing gets too close to a population center-
You'll sink me. Yes, you made that pretty clear.
What was with this civvie? Was the Abyssal slowly subverting the Pacific Lilly's judgement? Or was the life of her and her crew so much more important than the lives of thousands? Anger flared in the Missile Destroyer. Of any family that had suffered from the Abyssal war, perhaps none was more impacted than the DDG-51s and their foreign cousins. A third of the original DESRON 1 had been lost in the war so far, and Benfold knew her unit had gotten off relatively easy. Still, she understood her sisters had given their lives freely, knowing that their sacrifice had been made so that others may live. Every ship loved their crew, but to see one so selfish to put the lives of their sailors above those of so many-
"Benfold, this is Dewey." A girl's voice crackled over the net, her report cutting the Missile Destroyer before she could start talking sense to the Trawler. "I'm seeing a man overboard near the Lilly, over."
What?
"Benfold, this is Monaghan. I can confirm the report on the man overboard, I'm seeing two life vests."
Excluding negotiation sessions with The Abyssal, Benfold stayed in formation about two and a half klicks from the fishing boat. Still spitting distance if shooting started, but there was enough space for the Farragut Sisters to establish a nominal screen between her and the enemy capital ship. Thus, spotting the two overboard civilians on her own was… difficult. However, the drone they'd launched had no issue picking out the two heat signatures bobbing next to the trawler, crawling towards the three destroyers as the trawler pulled away from them.
"Dewy, Mohnagan, this is Benfold" Captain Iniguez replied from Benfold's bridge, his gaze focused on the trawler. "Fish 'em out. Nashville will cover you while we send a RHIB."
That was a shame. They'd hoped to keep Nashville a secret until the Abyssal did something stupid, but dedicating two destroyers to picking up the escapees was going to open a hole in their defenses they couldn't ignore. Benfold was glad two more people wouldn't be in danger from that thing, but if The Abyssal was going to attack (and she didn't really have another option besides surrender) she'd do it now. Farragut seemed to have the same idea, guns pointing at the trawler as her sisters made their way for the two sailors. Once her UAV had confirmed the running civvies were secure, Benfold would do the same.
Five minutes ticked by, then ten, but it seemed like the abyssal aboard the Pacific Lilly was content to let her hostages run for it. Odd, as they were the only thing keeping her alive. Maybe she thought keeping the others under her gaze was more important, or maybe the Abyssal was starting to crack under pressure.
Come to think of it, Benfold thought that the Trawler would have alerted her of two escapees…
"New surface contact, enemy carrier! Four klicks, bearing zero-five-eight!"
Benfold noticed the sudden return on her radar almost as soon as her weapons officer did.
What?
"Her signature just got a lot worse. She's deploying smoke!"
The question as to how the Wo-class carrier ended up a full kilometer away from The Pacific Lilly was one for another day. Right now, they had to worry about the hostile disappearing behind a silky black cloud and steaming directly for Washington. Iniguez seemed to agree.
"Alpha strike that contact!"
Unfortunately, America's weapons industry hadn't quite caught up with the demand the Abyssal war was placing on the nation and her allies. Thus, only 34 of her 90 missile tubes were loaded, with only eight of the old anti-Ship Tomahawks. Still, saturating the smoke screen with ERAMs, ASROCs and ESSMs guaranteed she'd hit something, even if it might not do the damage she'd like to. Under normal circumstances, the Captain would be rebuked for wasting so many munitions, but now? That monster deserve nothing but the best.
As her 5 inch gun beat a thunderous tattoo and her aft deck was obscured by a rippling wave of death, USS Benfold found herself stunned by her first alpha strike. Even if it wasn't close to her full potential, and even if the majority of her striking power wasn't designed for use against ships at all, and even though the Carrier's smoke would almost guarantee the majority of her shots would miss, she figured it might just be enough.
This is for Stockdale, bitch.
Now? Standing on the bridge meant she was in clear sight of four enemy warships, and every moment she watched she could feel their rangefinders boring into her hull. She was running out of ideas, and standing still no longer sat well with her. Finally, the ultimatum from the Navy meant that her actions would have a significant effect on the crew of the Pacific Lilly, a responsibility she hadn't had before.
So, here she was, inside the Trawler's minuscule galley, watching the normal bridge crew eat as she continued racking her brain.
"God damnit." A sailor cursed, staring at a device on the table. "You'd think we'd get cell coverage this close to shore."
The 'negotiations' had stretched on for days, due in part to Trinitite's efforts in making sure they went nowhere. It would have been more than enough time for the Fishing Trawler to make it to shore, if the steel-hull destroyer hadn't fired a shell over The Pacific Lilly's bow and stated the ship had gotten close enough, thank you.
Not that she could blame Captain Kelley for stopping. While the hills and trees of the mainland were barely visible over the horizon, getting any closer would only result in all of them sinking. One, maybe two more nautical miles, and she might consider taking her chances and make a dash ashore, but out here they could easily run her down and tear her apart. With the Navy's ultimatum, The Pacific Lilly couldn't make that distance without itself getting sunk.
"That's a national park out there." The sonar operator muttered, taking a bite from a strange meal in front of her. "Not many cell towers."
"They're jamming us." Captain Kelly grunted, dropping a plate of similar food on the table and taking a seat. "They don't want this situation getting out to the public."
Apparently, you were supposed to burn a fish, before tearing it apart with tools designed specifically for preparing it for consumption. Then you were allowed to eat it. For the life of her Trinitite couldn't figure out why they made process so complicated.
Still, they had to make all those changes for a reason. Trinitite had her doubts on the meal in front of the Captain, but she figured trying it out wouldn't hurt anything.
"Give me one of those." Trinitite stated, pointing at the strange food. Idly, she wondered what they had done with the rest of the fish. She wouldn't put it past the humans to toss 90% of a meal out, but even that seemed excessively wasteful.
"My dinner?"
"Yes."
The Captain grunted, standing back up and sliding the plate to Trinitite. "I'll be right back."
Trinitite stared at the dish, using one of the tools to poke at the strange meat in front of her. On closer inspection, the meat wasn't like anything she'd she'd seen before: A bit stringy, but a poke with the multi-pronged tool revealed it to be surprisingly tender. The yellow sauce that coated the meat, along with the strange white pellets it sat upon, didn't help in identifying it. What kind of fish was this?
"Never eaten chicken before?"
The sudden comment caused Trinitite to jump, looking up to view the sonar operator. Her and the other sailor were watching her poke at her meal, wearing perhaps the least hostile expressions the Abyssal had seen on them.
"Chicken?"
"It's a bird."
Trinitite stared back at her food with a noncommittal "Oh." She'd had birds before, but they tended to be too tough for her liking. Experimental prodding yielded significantly softer meat than what she would expect, which was odd. Didn't birds have to be lean and tough in order to fly and catch their prey? Whatever bird this came from must have been fat and lazy. Maybe that was why she hadn't immediately drawn the connection.
She stabbed one of the chunks of meat, bringing it up to her face and slowly spinning it in front of her. The morsel steamed, and a smell unlike anything she'd experienced before tickled her nostrils as it's scent wafted towards her. Some of the strange white pellets hung in the thick sauce that encased it. The carrier… wasn't sure what to make of it.
With a sigh, The Abyssal placed the food back on it's plate and leaned back in her chair. She should be eating whenever she had the opportunity, but food wasn't all that appealing when you knew death was bearing down on you like an impossibly thick spread of torpedoes.
"I'm going to die here, aren't I?"
This was it. No matter what she did here, the sheer amount of firepower the Navy had arrayed against her would smash her like a lifeboat in a typhoon. She was never going to make it to her mainland. She was never going to get a chance to investigate her princess, and she would never enjoy her sweet, cool embrace again.
She was going to try, of course. She'd never consider giving anything less than her life for her Princess, after all. Trinitite had some experience dealing with incoming missiles and torpedoes, but the guns on the destroyers were a threat she wasn't sure how to handle.
"That's not guaranteed." Trinitite's attention was pulled back to the two sailors at the table. The sonar operator's statement, while not comforting like she'd expect from her old fleet, at least seemed neutral.
"Why not?" She replied, confused.
The woman stared at her for half a second, a thoughtful look on her face.
"You know, I've been thinking." She said, turning her attention back to her food. "What's so important to an Abyssal they're willing to put up with a boat-full of people?" She speared a chunk of chicken with one of her tools, pointing the meat at Trinitite. "Your and our kind aren't exactly on speaking terms."
"Yeah," The other man interjected. "What in The States is so important?"
Trinitite stared back at the pair, her mind racing. Before this point, they hadn't shown any interest in her motives, only her actions. If they were prying into them, did that mean they were thinking about helping her, or were they just curious? They Abyssal looked back at her food, sighed, and took a chance. She was dead if she didn't try, anyways.
"I'm… looking for someone." She started, mentally rearranging the truth into something she would be comfortable sharing. "We were close before she suddenly left, and I think she ran here." Whatever she told them, the Navy could interrogate out of them, so she wanted to be vague. No point giving the enemy a reason to hide Her Princess.
"What, like an, undercover agent?"
"I wish it was that simple." Trinitite replied, shaking her head. "I don't know where she is or what she's doing. I don't even know why she's in 'The States'."
"Then how do you know she's there?" The man replied, pointing over his shoulder towards the hidden shore.
"I do." Trinitite replied, certainty in her voice. "I'm not sure I want the Navy to know how."
"So you're looking for a lost friend?" The woman said, a smirk appearing on her features. "Or lover?"
Trinitite nodded. "Yes, that's true." She did love her mother, after all.
"Alright…" the man nodded, sharing a glance with his partner. "Because Kelley and I had an idea…"
As the fishermen explained their plan, Trinitite found herself more at ease. She didn't see it giving her much more of a chance, but it just might be enough.
Without fully thinking about it, The Abyssal grabbed the tool on her plate, popping the piece of chicken in her mouth. Even with the blood that had been drained out, it was pleasantly juicy, and while the flavor on the sauce was unique, she couldn't say she hated it. There was another feeling, though, that she registered as she swallowed her bite. A faint tingle, that seemed to get stronger as she thought about it.
Trinitite's eyes widened, before she suddenly coughed. The odd tingle started to burn, before spiking in intensity and scorching her throat. Forget the meat, what… what kind of weapon was in that sauce?
Alarms sounded inside her. Fire suppression systems activated as damage control personnel scurried through her decks, frantically searching for the damage. As the Wo-Class carrier keeled over, clawing at her throat, the portion of her mind not consumed by pain detected… laughter?
"Oh god, there's nothing spicy in the Ocean, is there?" The sonar operator laughed, ignoring Trinitite's glare and pushing a glass full of some white substance towards her. "Drink this. It should help with the curry."
As the strange liquid poured down her throat and doused the fire raging below-decks, Trinitite made note in her log: Just like in a real battle, incomplete knowledge about the human world was going to get her killed.
- - -
Where are you going now?
At first, USS Benfold had pitied the Pacific Lilly. She wouldn't have approved of the poor Trawler's decision to venture beyond the Navy's protection, but having to host an Abyssal was a fate she wouldn't wish on any ship, let alone a civilian one. The terrified vessel had been hysteric when the missile destroyer had arrived, pleading with Benfold to remove the monster that had taken her hostage.
Then the ultimatum had been delivered, and after a few days of pointless chatter between that thing and Lieutenant Murray, Benfold had been forced to fire a warning shot over the Pacific Lilly.
South.
She'd become much less cooperative after that.
I could tell that, Lilly. Why?
If Benfold hadn't known better, she would have thought the fishing trawler was working with The Abyssal, now. Her responses were irritated, and unhelpful, and the ship took every opportunity she could to insult the Benfold.
You don't need to know that.
Benfold could feel her temper rising, but she tried to stay calm. This was a stressful situation, after all, and rationality was unfortunately rare in stressful situations. If she just explained things…
Yes, I do. If that thing gets too close to a population center-
You'll sink me. Yes, you made that pretty clear.
What was with this civvie? Was the Abyssal slowly subverting the Pacific Lilly's judgement? Or was the life of her and her crew so much more important than the lives of thousands? Anger flared in the Missile Destroyer. Of any family that had suffered from the Abyssal war, perhaps none was more impacted than the DDG-51s and their foreign cousins. A third of the original DESRON 1 had been lost in the war so far, and Benfold knew her unit had gotten off relatively easy. Still, she understood her sisters had given their lives freely, knowing that their sacrifice had been made so that others may live. Every ship loved their crew, but to see one so selfish to put the lives of their sailors above those of so many-
"Benfold, this is Dewey." A girl's voice crackled over the net, her report cutting the Missile Destroyer before she could start talking sense to the Trawler. "I'm seeing a man overboard near the Lilly, over."
What?
"Benfold, this is Monaghan. I can confirm the report on the man overboard, I'm seeing two life vests."
Excluding negotiation sessions with The Abyssal, Benfold stayed in formation about two and a half klicks from the fishing boat. Still spitting distance if shooting started, but there was enough space for the Farragut Sisters to establish a nominal screen between her and the enemy capital ship. Thus, spotting the two overboard civilians on her own was… difficult. However, the drone they'd launched had no issue picking out the two heat signatures bobbing next to the trawler, crawling towards the three destroyers as the trawler pulled away from them.
"Dewy, Mohnagan, this is Benfold" Captain Iniguez replied from Benfold's bridge, his gaze focused on the trawler. "Fish 'em out. Nashville will cover you while we send a RHIB."
That was a shame. They'd hoped to keep Nashville a secret until the Abyssal did something stupid, but dedicating two destroyers to picking up the escapees was going to open a hole in their defenses they couldn't ignore. Benfold was glad two more people wouldn't be in danger from that thing, but if The Abyssal was going to attack (and she didn't really have another option besides surrender) she'd do it now. Farragut seemed to have the same idea, guns pointing at the trawler as her sisters made their way for the two sailors. Once her UAV had confirmed the running civvies were secure, Benfold would do the same.
Five minutes ticked by, then ten, but it seemed like the abyssal aboard the Pacific Lilly was content to let her hostages run for it. Odd, as they were the only thing keeping her alive. Maybe she thought keeping the others under her gaze was more important, or maybe the Abyssal was starting to crack under pressure.
Come to think of it, Benfold thought that the Trawler would have alerted her of two escapees…
"New surface contact, enemy carrier! Four klicks, bearing zero-five-eight!"
Benfold noticed the sudden return on her radar almost as soon as her weapons officer did.
What?
"Her signature just got a lot worse. She's deploying smoke!"
The question as to how the Wo-class carrier ended up a full kilometer away from The Pacific Lilly was one for another day. Right now, they had to worry about the hostile disappearing behind a silky black cloud and steaming directly for Washington. Iniguez seemed to agree.
"Alpha strike that contact!"
Unfortunately, America's weapons industry hadn't quite caught up with the demand the Abyssal war was placing on the nation and her allies. Thus, only 34 of her 90 missile tubes were loaded, with only eight of the old anti-Ship Tomahawks. Still, saturating the smoke screen with ERAMs, ASROCs and ESSMs guaranteed she'd hit something, even if it might not do the damage she'd like to. Under normal circumstances, the Captain would be rebuked for wasting so many munitions, but now? That monster deserve nothing but the best.
As her 5 inch gun beat a thunderous tattoo and her aft deck was obscured by a rippling wave of death, USS Benfold found herself stunned by her first alpha strike. Even if it wasn't close to her full potential, and even if the majority of her striking power wasn't designed for use against ships at all, and even though the Carrier's smoke would almost guarantee the majority of her shots would miss, she figured it might just be enough.
This is for Stockdale, bitch.
You know how I said we'd be out of the ocean in the next part. This chapter's size ran away from me again, so here's the first half. Guess I lied.
Anyways, hope you enjoyed!
Anyways, hope you enjoyed!
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the fishermen all wonder the same thing.
and this is a bit heartwarming and sympathy inducing
nobody wants to be colateral, and the fishing ship sees few options to avoid getting sunk, not to mention, that unlike a warship who are made to fight, she is civilian. also, Benfold is too casual and dismissive with what to water lilly, is her life. such thing cant not cause resentment.
And here is a chance for all to go their ways-the fishermen will get to return to port, and yet live, the Water Lilly will be safe again, and free of both the monster on her and the kill happy maniac destroyer (hopefully) and so will the abyssal, whose behavior hinted at lack of intent to cause slaughter on the mainland.
i doubt it.
- Location
- Kansas
Nope, if anything, the Lily is now on thin ice. If the navy catches whiff of the fact that some crewmembers helped the carrier, then they stand a reasonable chance of getting charged for treason. They aided a dangerous monster getting onto United States soil.
Of course, once the crew get interrogated, a much different picture is painted about the abyssal. Granted, if this pops up in the evening news, I hold no sympathy for the Lily or her crew.
Of course, once the crew get interrogated, a much different picture is painted about the abyssal. Granted, if this pops up in the evening news, I hold no sympathy for the Lily or her crew.
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Oh, the last part is definitely happening.
To avoid a congressional hearing on the subject if for no other reason.
- Location
- Kansas
Seriously? This incident could potentially spark a wave of panic, not to mention the fact people will demand any commercial shipping be shackled with security and beaurcracy. This could be the equivalent to another 911, with all the negatives that comes with it.
Of course, this is a worse case scenario. More likely, if this gets out, the navy will be able to manage it to paint trinitite in a sympathetic light, and not as a monster(assuming the navy accepts her)
Of course, this is a worse case scenario. More likely, if this gets out, the navy will be able to manage it to paint trinitite in a sympathetic light, and not as a monster(assuming the navy accepts her)
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
She's ignorant, not stupid. The two terms are often correlated as stupid usually means ignorant, but ignorant doesn't necessarily mean stupid. Trini is an Aircraft Carrier, a role that involves a lot of complex physics calculations, organization and multitasking thanks to the complexities involved in maintaining and commanding an entire air force as well as attached escorts. By necessity, she must be fairly intelligent to be able to perform her duties.
But she's never had anything to do with humans as anything other than prey before, she has no idea how or why humans do things and she's never bothered to think overmuch about how the obvious physical differences between a human and a shipgirl\abyssal would impact the way they live their lives. Ex; cooking food, and anything at all to do with life on land.
Water Lily has also been listening\watching Trini and thus knows that she is not hostile and doesn't want to go on a murderous rampage across the continent, unlike Benfold and co. who have no idea what Trini is up to and have thus fallen back on the standard military response when you don't know what's happening; assume the worst.
7: The Battle off Kalaloch
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Trinitite had to admit: Swimming with her rigging stowed never would have occurred to her. She'd seen the Crossroads Fleet's submarines swim, of course, but the thought that she could as well, never really occurred to her. She was an Aircraft Carrier. They don't do that.
She knew it was necessary, but if she had truly understood what the process was like, Trinitite doubted she could have summoned the will to do it. Coordinating her kicks and strokes to actually produce forward momentum proved more difficult than she thought, and while the ocean's waves and her natural temperature prevented her from being too visible from above, the waves that she could normally ignore tossed her around like driftwood and hampered her progress even further.
Thus, Trinitite was forced dive underwater, playing submarine until her very limited air supply forced her back to the surface.
It was hellish work. Swimming came easier than she thought it would, but it was anything but enjoyable. The very idea of the ocean's embrace surrounding her completely reminded her far too much of sinking, and with water pressing in on every inch of her skin, she started to find it hard to think straight. As a result, she was forced to surface out of desperate panic almost as often as her need for air would. Then, after regaining her bearings and realizing her time above water was just aimlessly knocking her about, she would dive again, swim for as long as she could tolerate it, and suffer another panic attack. After she'd lost track of the number of times she'd repeated this process, she started feeling disconnected from this whole situation, as if the last week or so was just some protracted nightmare. If it wasn't for her quite literal internal compass she would have lost her bearings entirely.
Every time she surfaced, a the majority of her being screamed never again, that it would be so easy to call her rigging back and make more progress than she ever could like this, but she endured. The distraction the two sailors volunteered to create wasn't going to last forever, and sooner or later the task force was going to realize she was missing. They might have spotted her already, but if she waited too long a determined search would mean she could be fairly certain. However, if she squandered her opportunity by deploying early, the Navy would have that much more time to beat her into the sea.
Had it been minutes? hours? In the stress of swimming, she lost track.
She would endure this for as long as she needed to, but now that she wasn't sure it was becoming unbearable.
Screw it.
After surfacing one last time and drawing in a desperate gulp of air, Trinitite concentrated her thoughts on traveling the ocean the proper way. A sudden buoyancy lifted Trinity out of the water, a wave of power surging through her as she found herself plowing through the waves instead of getting thrown about by them.
We've replaced your superstructure equipment. New radars, new fire directors, and updated radio equipment.
A familiar weight settled upon her head, and with the expansion of her senses Trinitite found herself instinctively relaxing. Taking control of one of her previously unavailable tentacles, she reached up to her hair, brushing a strand out of her face without having to let go of her returned cane.
The elevators are still dysfunctional. That, as well as serious support for the patch we put on your deck and fixing the busted catapult, isn't going to happen without a proper drydock.
Boilers roared to life, A light cough escaping the Abyssal's lips as her engineers poured additional oil into her smoke stack. The resulting thick, white fog poured from her rigging and started pooling around her like a gathering thunderhead. She wouldn't accelerate as quickly, but with her destination lying just over the horizon, concealment was more important than speed.
The Hell Diver you wanted is stationed on the working catapult, and your secondaries are loaded.
As Trinitite had predicted, her RDF equipment sprung to life, a tingling in the back of her mind that pointed back at the enemy Task Force. Was there… three sources? Right, the Destroyers.
No matter. As her boilers hadn't generated enough smoke to totally obscure her, her secondaries that had survived thundered. 5 inch guns barked as shells hurtled towards the enemy. When they crashed into the sea barely a hundred yards astern, kicking up towers of spray that gave to more smoke, she found herself smiling. That should do for now.
The screen obscured her fire direction equipment, and using her radar to pick out the hostiles behind her would broadcast her location in the smokescreen. Thus, her first volley was the only one Trinitite planned on firing, thinking it better to push for shore at flank and focus on surviving the Navy's onslaught.
Her surviving catapult sprung as the Hell Diver rocketed off her flight deck, the bomber hugging the waves in an attempt to gain additional speed. That aircraft was her greatest advantage, but with her elevators out it was going to be the only one she could bring to this engagement.
She had experience dealing with the Navy's response. The Crossroads fleet didn't seek out human forces to fight, per-say, but it wasn't self-sufficient. When supplies were needed, her Princess would reluctantly offer the aid of her fleet, given they wouldn't be provoking the humans into using The Fire. This offer was denied by everyone the Crossroads Fleet had contacted, until a surprise response returned from Mindoro.
The Supply Depot Princess was not particularly invested in the greater war effort, beyond her contribution to it. She would insure raw material, specialized tools, and fuel got from its location to its destination intact. To her, the prospect of drawing on the powers of another fleet entirely, no matter their reputation, was irresistible.
And so, Trinitite found herself outside of her home more often than not, guarding someone else's transports as the enemy threw missiles, aircraft, and submarines at her. It was dull, stressful work, but it came with plenty of reward.
Knowing her work was keeping the Crossroads Fleet armed and fed was enough to keep Trinitite going until she could return home, loaded with new supplies for their stockpile and knowing her Mother's embrace would be well earned. Meeting other Abyssal Princesses, enduring their inane rants and witnessing the callous treatment of their children, gave her a sense of perspective that only deepened her love for her leader.
Perhaps the greatest reward for this duty, however, was experience. Dealing with the waves of the onslaught of fire humans constantly threw at her was no small task, and if Trinitite could boast in any sort of specialty, it would be in her ability to run a CAP and direct an escort screen. The battle at Bikini wasn't her first fight, just her first encounter with other surface ships.
Almost as soon as her smoke shells had landed, the enemy's first response arrived. Starboard and ahead of Trinitite, a column of spray sprouted frighteningly close to the carrier. After a moment, another joined, slightly northwest of the last, and then another. One of the fast-firing guns from the steel-hulled destroyers, then. She wouldn't enjoy getting hit by their projectiles, but she had already survived much worse. With a minor adjustment to her course, her slowly increasing acceleration, and the thickening smokescreen, the human cannon grew more and more inaccurate, until Trinitite was fairly certain she wouldn't have to worry about it.
The Carrier had just dismissed the shell splashes when two ultra-fast rockets appeared from the smoke. One passed narrowly by her starboard, it's exhaust leaving a trail on her hull, while the other slammed into her stern. The rocket detonated behind her hangar deck, the bulkhead disappearing into shrapnel.
Trinitite screamed as the supersonic shrapnel tore though her hangar deck, cutting down crew and perforating her waiting aircraft. Casualties were obscene, and her entire air wing was going to need at some repairs, but it would have been much, much worse.
If she was refueling or rearming, or if the rocket had struck any lower, and Trinitite would be bathing in the fire of her primary avgas storage. The same kind of rocket that had cratered her deck earlier would have finished her off for good. Briefly, she worried about her Hell Diver ahead of her, but since it had only exploded after it had hit her directly she doubted they were in the proper mode to threaten the bomber. She had much more to worry about, anyways.
New contacts on the RDF. Bearing's changing rapidly, they're close!
Some of their powerful anti-ship missiles, then. Moving twice as fast as a dive bomber and filled with a mass of explosives nothing but the most determined battleship could withstand, these fat rockets bore in on Abyssal fleets only a few feet above wave crests, under the majority of their anti-aircraft guns. A powerful radar set mounted in the nose blanketed the sea in front of them, constantly hunting for prey as it sped over the ocean.
Trinitite herself had witnessed three transports, two cruisers, and eight particularly unlucky destroyers bear the brunt of their massive warhead, and knew for certain that if one connected it would be the end of her. If she, by some miracle, managed to survive the hit, her fight to stay together would give the enemy destroyers plenty of time to catch up to her.
Normally, her strategy would be to place the fleet in the standard anti-aircraft formation, with one of her own aircraft laying a screen of smoke. Hopefully, the majority of them would dash into the large target, while those who weren't fooled were cut down by the fleet's volume of fire.
As the Abyssal glided through her own smoke, she kept her Air-Search radar inactive. When the enemy was more concerned with bleeding her escorts than killing her transports, their rockets would lock onto her picket's radars and follow them into the ships themselves. With the thick cloud of smoke they were dealing with, the blinded rockets should sail directly through…
Trinitite witnessed one of the fat missiles sail through the smoke, transforming from a distant blur to a rough silhouette to and back into a blur as it glided only a few feet from her hull. The carrier breathed a sigh of as her smoke obscured it once more, its powerful search radar fading as it blasted the the sea ahead of it. At one point the thing's search signal had gotten strong enough the Carrier could feel a headache developing, but it must not have detected her.
Another series of splashes appeared next to her, several shells landing in a tight cluster. That would be one of the three destroyers, then. Judging by how close they'd gotten to the carrier, it seemed their radar was tied into their fire control. Not ideal, but Trinitite but while the light guns from the three ships would cause serious damage, they wouldn't have enough time to sink her before she was safe on land. Still, the carrier altered her dash for the shore into a gentle weave. No reason to make their job easy.
Another cluster of shells landed near Trinitite, obscuring the sound of her Hell Diver as it returned. The bomber passed just aft of its mothership, a curtain of smoke descending behind it to obscure the Carrier further. She veered to port, a moment too late to avoid another volley of shells.
One of the 5 inch projectiles slammed into her deck, burrowing through the decking behind her aft elevator and into her hangar deck. The shell detonated inside her hangar, ruining several damaged aircraft, the three arresting cables on the deck above, and a good portion of her crew spaces.
Trinitite's eyes widened as reports flooded her bridge, her nearby crew scrambling to prevent the shell from doing any more damage. If she'd known a destroyer could hurt her that badly...
It was a good thing she wasn't planning on recovering that Hell Diver, because that might not be possible anymore.
Her aircraft continued to climb as another volley of fire slammed into the sea, a sure hit on Trinitite if she hadn't started more serious maneuvering.
Assuming the destroyers didn't outrun her, she could do this all day. And, given her rapidly closing distance to the shore, they wouldn't. It seemed like the fisherman's crazy plan had worked.
ping
The Abyssal froze, her boiler pressure spiking as the noise reverberated throughout her hull. They had launched torpedoes at her? Nothing launched from the task force should have gotten to her already, right? Had a submarine been tailing her? No, their destroyers could launch torpedoes, right?
Ping
Almost instinctively, she cut power to her screws and her speed started to drop. If the thing was close enough a Wo like her could hear it, there was a good chance it would get a return from the Abyssal anyways, but there was no use guiding it in with her cavitation noises.
PING
Another volley of shells bracketed the water ahead of her, but she hardly noticed. For a moment, she visualised jumping, safe in the air while the torpedoes glided below, but even if it was possible (she'd never see someone try jumping while underway) the shock of crashing back into her water might do more damage than one of the torpedoes could.
Ping
They were gliding away from her already, which meant they must have been closer than she realized. It wouldn't be a good idea, but at that moment The Carrier felt like she would trade two boilers for a proper hydrophone.
ping
Trinitite waited for another moment, and then two. Two more volleys crashed around the slowing carrier as the Abyssal waited for the torpedoes to pass outside of their hearing range.
The enemy's homing torpedoes were nasty things, as her sister Hypocenter would attest. Trinitite had almost lost her when four of the things mangled her starboard side in the Bismarck Sea. Getting her to a drydock had been one of her worst experiences she'd had, until she'd lost everyone in the final battle over her home. She didn't have the support her sister had needed to get to safety, and if one of those torpedoes had hit the Destroyers chasing her would be given plenty of time to catch up and fill her with their own fish.
Another volley of shells descended, this one finally hitting home. Two more 5-inch shells plowed into the deck, one shouldering through her thinly-armored side as the other slammed almost in the center of her crew's hasty patch job. The carrier screamed as the explosions compromised the bracing her crew had thrown together, her free hand darting to her head as half of the patch caved in on the hangar. Almost belatedly, another report came in, reporting serious damage in her workshop, with her Galley and Laundry a complete loss.
Time to get moving again.
The water behind Trinitite sprung to life as her screws re-engaged. As much as she feared the torpedoes ahead of her, she couldn't afford to keep bleeding speed.
Enemy aircraft above. One of those tiny human airplanes that doesn't seem to have a pilot.
Her Hell Diver had spotted an aircraft above. She wasn't sure if the bomber could intercept the peering enemy, but at least interrupting the spotting aircraft would-
Another salvo of shells dived into the sea, but instead of the two-to-five she'd grown accustomed to, fifteen plumes of spray rose at once. Trinitite was too shocked by the volume of fire to be sure, but they seemed larger than the the others. The enemy destroyers could shred her superstructure and crater her flight deck, but as long as Trinitite stayed outside of torpedo range they weren't a serious threat. Whatever this was? Trinitite's armor didn't feel so thick anymore.
The Wo-class was out of surprises, and the Navy just revealed one of their own…
She knew it was necessary, but if she had truly understood what the process was like, Trinitite doubted she could have summoned the will to do it. Coordinating her kicks and strokes to actually produce forward momentum proved more difficult than she thought, and while the ocean's waves and her natural temperature prevented her from being too visible from above, the waves that she could normally ignore tossed her around like driftwood and hampered her progress even further.
Thus, Trinitite was forced dive underwater, playing submarine until her very limited air supply forced her back to the surface.
It was hellish work. Swimming came easier than she thought it would, but it was anything but enjoyable. The very idea of the ocean's embrace surrounding her completely reminded her far too much of sinking, and with water pressing in on every inch of her skin, she started to find it hard to think straight. As a result, she was forced to surface out of desperate panic almost as often as her need for air would. Then, after regaining her bearings and realizing her time above water was just aimlessly knocking her about, she would dive again, swim for as long as she could tolerate it, and suffer another panic attack. After she'd lost track of the number of times she'd repeated this process, she started feeling disconnected from this whole situation, as if the last week or so was just some protracted nightmare. If it wasn't for her quite literal internal compass she would have lost her bearings entirely.
Every time she surfaced, a the majority of her being screamed never again, that it would be so easy to call her rigging back and make more progress than she ever could like this, but she endured. The distraction the two sailors volunteered to create wasn't going to last forever, and sooner or later the task force was going to realize she was missing. They might have spotted her already, but if she waited too long a determined search would mean she could be fairly certain. However, if she squandered her opportunity by deploying early, the Navy would have that much more time to beat her into the sea.
Had it been minutes? hours? In the stress of swimming, she lost track.
She would endure this for as long as she needed to, but now that she wasn't sure it was becoming unbearable.
Screw it.
After surfacing one last time and drawing in a desperate gulp of air, Trinitite concentrated her thoughts on traveling the ocean the proper way. A sudden buoyancy lifted Trinity out of the water, a wave of power surging through her as she found herself plowing through the waves instead of getting thrown about by them.
We've replaced your superstructure equipment. New radars, new fire directors, and updated radio equipment.
A familiar weight settled upon her head, and with the expansion of her senses Trinitite found herself instinctively relaxing. Taking control of one of her previously unavailable tentacles, she reached up to her hair, brushing a strand out of her face without having to let go of her returned cane.
The elevators are still dysfunctional. That, as well as serious support for the patch we put on your deck and fixing the busted catapult, isn't going to happen without a proper drydock.
Boilers roared to life, A light cough escaping the Abyssal's lips as her engineers poured additional oil into her smoke stack. The resulting thick, white fog poured from her rigging and started pooling around her like a gathering thunderhead. She wouldn't accelerate as quickly, but with her destination lying just over the horizon, concealment was more important than speed.
The Hell Diver you wanted is stationed on the working catapult, and your secondaries are loaded.
As Trinitite had predicted, her RDF equipment sprung to life, a tingling in the back of her mind that pointed back at the enemy Task Force. Was there… three sources? Right, the Destroyers.
No matter. As her boilers hadn't generated enough smoke to totally obscure her, her secondaries that had survived thundered. 5 inch guns barked as shells hurtled towards the enemy. When they crashed into the sea barely a hundred yards astern, kicking up towers of spray that gave to more smoke, she found herself smiling. That should do for now.
The screen obscured her fire direction equipment, and using her radar to pick out the hostiles behind her would broadcast her location in the smokescreen. Thus, her first volley was the only one Trinitite planned on firing, thinking it better to push for shore at flank and focus on surviving the Navy's onslaught.
Her surviving catapult sprung as the Hell Diver rocketed off her flight deck, the bomber hugging the waves in an attempt to gain additional speed. That aircraft was her greatest advantage, but with her elevators out it was going to be the only one she could bring to this engagement.
She had experience dealing with the Navy's response. The Crossroads fleet didn't seek out human forces to fight, per-say, but it wasn't self-sufficient. When supplies were needed, her Princess would reluctantly offer the aid of her fleet, given they wouldn't be provoking the humans into using The Fire. This offer was denied by everyone the Crossroads Fleet had contacted, until a surprise response returned from Mindoro.
The Supply Depot Princess was not particularly invested in the greater war effort, beyond her contribution to it. She would insure raw material, specialized tools, and fuel got from its location to its destination intact. To her, the prospect of drawing on the powers of another fleet entirely, no matter their reputation, was irresistible.
And so, Trinitite found herself outside of her home more often than not, guarding someone else's transports as the enemy threw missiles, aircraft, and submarines at her. It was dull, stressful work, but it came with plenty of reward.
Knowing her work was keeping the Crossroads Fleet armed and fed was enough to keep Trinitite going until she could return home, loaded with new supplies for their stockpile and knowing her Mother's embrace would be well earned. Meeting other Abyssal Princesses, enduring their inane rants and witnessing the callous treatment of their children, gave her a sense of perspective that only deepened her love for her leader.
Perhaps the greatest reward for this duty, however, was experience. Dealing with the waves of the onslaught of fire humans constantly threw at her was no small task, and if Trinitite could boast in any sort of specialty, it would be in her ability to run a CAP and direct an escort screen. The battle at Bikini wasn't her first fight, just her first encounter with other surface ships.
Almost as soon as her smoke shells had landed, the enemy's first response arrived. Starboard and ahead of Trinitite, a column of spray sprouted frighteningly close to the carrier. After a moment, another joined, slightly northwest of the last, and then another. One of the fast-firing guns from the steel-hulled destroyers, then. She wouldn't enjoy getting hit by their projectiles, but she had already survived much worse. With a minor adjustment to her course, her slowly increasing acceleration, and the thickening smokescreen, the human cannon grew more and more inaccurate, until Trinitite was fairly certain she wouldn't have to worry about it.
The Carrier had just dismissed the shell splashes when two ultra-fast rockets appeared from the smoke. One passed narrowly by her starboard, it's exhaust leaving a trail on her hull, while the other slammed into her stern. The rocket detonated behind her hangar deck, the bulkhead disappearing into shrapnel.
Trinitite screamed as the supersonic shrapnel tore though her hangar deck, cutting down crew and perforating her waiting aircraft. Casualties were obscene, and her entire air wing was going to need at some repairs, but it would have been much, much worse.
If she was refueling or rearming, or if the rocket had struck any lower, and Trinitite would be bathing in the fire of her primary avgas storage. The same kind of rocket that had cratered her deck earlier would have finished her off for good. Briefly, she worried about her Hell Diver ahead of her, but since it had only exploded after it had hit her directly she doubted they were in the proper mode to threaten the bomber. She had much more to worry about, anyways.
New contacts on the RDF. Bearing's changing rapidly, they're close!
Some of their powerful anti-ship missiles, then. Moving twice as fast as a dive bomber and filled with a mass of explosives nothing but the most determined battleship could withstand, these fat rockets bore in on Abyssal fleets only a few feet above wave crests, under the majority of their anti-aircraft guns. A powerful radar set mounted in the nose blanketed the sea in front of them, constantly hunting for prey as it sped over the ocean.
Trinitite herself had witnessed three transports, two cruisers, and eight particularly unlucky destroyers bear the brunt of their massive warhead, and knew for certain that if one connected it would be the end of her. If she, by some miracle, managed to survive the hit, her fight to stay together would give the enemy destroyers plenty of time to catch up to her.
Normally, her strategy would be to place the fleet in the standard anti-aircraft formation, with one of her own aircraft laying a screen of smoke. Hopefully, the majority of them would dash into the large target, while those who weren't fooled were cut down by the fleet's volume of fire.
As the Abyssal glided through her own smoke, she kept her Air-Search radar inactive. When the enemy was more concerned with bleeding her escorts than killing her transports, their rockets would lock onto her picket's radars and follow them into the ships themselves. With the thick cloud of smoke they were dealing with, the blinded rockets should sail directly through…
Trinitite witnessed one of the fat missiles sail through the smoke, transforming from a distant blur to a rough silhouette to and back into a blur as it glided only a few feet from her hull. The carrier breathed a sigh of as her smoke obscured it once more, its powerful search radar fading as it blasted the the sea ahead of it. At one point the thing's search signal had gotten strong enough the Carrier could feel a headache developing, but it must not have detected her.
Another series of splashes appeared next to her, several shells landing in a tight cluster. That would be one of the three destroyers, then. Judging by how close they'd gotten to the carrier, it seemed their radar was tied into their fire control. Not ideal, but Trinitite but while the light guns from the three ships would cause serious damage, they wouldn't have enough time to sink her before she was safe on land. Still, the carrier altered her dash for the shore into a gentle weave. No reason to make their job easy.
Another cluster of shells landed near Trinitite, obscuring the sound of her Hell Diver as it returned. The bomber passed just aft of its mothership, a curtain of smoke descending behind it to obscure the Carrier further. She veered to port, a moment too late to avoid another volley of shells.
One of the 5 inch projectiles slammed into her deck, burrowing through the decking behind her aft elevator and into her hangar deck. The shell detonated inside her hangar, ruining several damaged aircraft, the three arresting cables on the deck above, and a good portion of her crew spaces.
Trinitite's eyes widened as reports flooded her bridge, her nearby crew scrambling to prevent the shell from doing any more damage. If she'd known a destroyer could hurt her that badly...
It was a good thing she wasn't planning on recovering that Hell Diver, because that might not be possible anymore.
Her aircraft continued to climb as another volley of fire slammed into the sea, a sure hit on Trinitite if she hadn't started more serious maneuvering.
Assuming the destroyers didn't outrun her, she could do this all day. And, given her rapidly closing distance to the shore, they wouldn't. It seemed like the fisherman's crazy plan had worked.
ping
The Abyssal froze, her boiler pressure spiking as the noise reverberated throughout her hull. They had launched torpedoes at her? Nothing launched from the task force should have gotten to her already, right? Had a submarine been tailing her? No, their destroyers could launch torpedoes, right?
Ping
Almost instinctively, she cut power to her screws and her speed started to drop. If the thing was close enough a Wo like her could hear it, there was a good chance it would get a return from the Abyssal anyways, but there was no use guiding it in with her cavitation noises.
PING
Another volley of shells bracketed the water ahead of her, but she hardly noticed. For a moment, she visualised jumping, safe in the air while the torpedoes glided below, but even if it was possible (she'd never see someone try jumping while underway) the shock of crashing back into her water might do more damage than one of the torpedoes could.
Ping
They were gliding away from her already, which meant they must have been closer than she realized. It wouldn't be a good idea, but at that moment The Carrier felt like she would trade two boilers for a proper hydrophone.
ping
Trinitite waited for another moment, and then two. Two more volleys crashed around the slowing carrier as the Abyssal waited for the torpedoes to pass outside of their hearing range.
The enemy's homing torpedoes were nasty things, as her sister Hypocenter would attest. Trinitite had almost lost her when four of the things mangled her starboard side in the Bismarck Sea. Getting her to a drydock had been one of her worst experiences she'd had, until she'd lost everyone in the final battle over her home. She didn't have the support her sister had needed to get to safety, and if one of those torpedoes had hit the Destroyers chasing her would be given plenty of time to catch up and fill her with their own fish.
Another volley of shells descended, this one finally hitting home. Two more 5-inch shells plowed into the deck, one shouldering through her thinly-armored side as the other slammed almost in the center of her crew's hasty patch job. The carrier screamed as the explosions compromised the bracing her crew had thrown together, her free hand darting to her head as half of the patch caved in on the hangar. Almost belatedly, another report came in, reporting serious damage in her workshop, with her Galley and Laundry a complete loss.
Time to get moving again.
The water behind Trinitite sprung to life as her screws re-engaged. As much as she feared the torpedoes ahead of her, she couldn't afford to keep bleeding speed.
Enemy aircraft above. One of those tiny human airplanes that doesn't seem to have a pilot.
Her Hell Diver had spotted an aircraft above. She wasn't sure if the bomber could intercept the peering enemy, but at least interrupting the spotting aircraft would-
Another salvo of shells dived into the sea, but instead of the two-to-five she'd grown accustomed to, fifteen plumes of spray rose at once. Trinitite was too shocked by the volume of fire to be sure, but they seemed larger than the the others. The enemy destroyers could shred her superstructure and crater her flight deck, but as long as Trinitite stayed outside of torpedo range they weren't a serious threat. Whatever this was? Trinitite's armor didn't feel so thick anymore.
The Wo-class was out of surprises, and the Navy just revealed one of their own…
"But PyrrhicSteel! You said last snip was going to be the last naval chapter, and then you said this one was, but it doesn't look done at all!"
You are correct, hypothetical SV user. I did say this was the last one. However, after finishing the chapter, I found myself staring at 9 pages of text, so I decided to split things up further. The next part is done, and just needs another editing pass before I post it. You can expect it tonight or tomorrow morning. I honestly expected all I've written so far to be 4 chapters when I was planning things out, but I guess I found myself asking "how was she supposed to get to the US again?" and explaining that took a lot longer than I expected. I hope you enjoyed this, even though it wasn't what I've advertised so far.
Anyways, one of the interesting consequences of having the Navy being the antagonist is buffing steel hulls compared to other KC works starts to feel like a smart idea to a perspective author. A greater diversity in threats gives an author more tools to play with, and this snip sort of gave an overview of what those threats are to Abyssals (and how they deal with them). If I continue this past its premise or write a sequel, referencing this snippet would become pretty important.
A huge thank you for all your comments, by the way. They really help keeping me exited to plan out and execute this story.
You are correct, hypothetical SV user. I did say this was the last one. However, after finishing the chapter, I found myself staring at 9 pages of text, so I decided to split things up further. The next part is done, and just needs another editing pass before I post it. You can expect it tonight or tomorrow morning. I honestly expected all I've written so far to be 4 chapters when I was planning things out, but I guess I found myself asking "how was she supposed to get to the US again?" and explaining that took a lot longer than I expected. I hope you enjoyed this, even though it wasn't what I've advertised so far.
Anyways, one of the interesting consequences of having the Navy being the antagonist is buffing steel hulls compared to other KC works starts to feel like a smart idea to a perspective author. A greater diversity in threats gives an author more tools to play with, and this snip sort of gave an overview of what those threats are to Abyssals (and how they deal with them). If I continue this past its premise or write a sequel, referencing this snippet would become pretty important.
A huge thank you for all your comments, by the way. They really help keeping me exited to plan out and execute this story.
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wtdtd
slow thinker, with crippling abundance of time
- Location
- The Netherlands
That would be one splash. We have 15.
