Picturing her, blue eldritch light coming from her eyes, looking down at a crappy box filled with dry rice, 3 burgers standing edge on like the generators on Hoth. She really needs to read those cookbooks, maybe the librarian can suggest a "you've moved out of home 100% spoiled" style book
Maybe they alerted everyone else as to what had happened, removing the aggressor's ability to peacefully deal with others? Perhaps they dealt with aggressors via force, either by calling the Navy, such as in her case, or using their own fleet's firepower. Most human fleets she'd encountered hadn't seemed particularly combat-capable, but the 'uniformed services' certainly were, and they couldn't be the only exceptions.
It's really interesting to see Trinitite trying to derive the concept of 'police' from first principles. She's clearly extremely smart, and she has a really distinctive internal voice.
It was sweet, like the ice cream she'd just had, but instead of the smooth, creamy sensation she loved, the pellets sucked up moisture, retaining their shape until Trinitite's teeth broke them apart.
Also mad respect for being able to eat raw rice. I undercooked some once and forcing it down was a nightmare. Like chalky pellets of sorrow and regret.
The guard clearly recognized the occupants of the government van, but still asked for the Admiral's identification before waving them through the gate. It would make sense if they were feeling paranoid, considering the… situation developing in the American Northwest, but as far as Saratoga knew no one in the JMSDF had been briefed on Trinitite.
It was probably just the Defense Force's standard professionalism, which spoke well for her temporary masters. Her briefers had made it clear Japan had been a free and prosperous society for decades now, a notion reinforced by the towering buildings, flashy roadside advertisements, and cluttered highways she'd passed on the drive here, but Saratoga hadn't set her expectations particularly high when it came to a second IJN. She didn't know how much of her knowledge of the former enemy's work culture was propaganda or bad intel, but the sooner she could confirm she could speak truth to power, the better.
Saratoga had already resolved to be brutally honest in her reports about the training process. However, while Admiral Hirano seemed like someone who'd take her advice to heart, Admiral James Richardson also learned the correct lessons from Saratoga's fleet problems against Pearl Harbor, and all The Navy got from his honesty was one less admiral. Saratoga sighed, remembering it wasn't just the JMSDF she might have to worry about. Crossroads had only happened a year after the war, and who knew how much or little the US Navy's current leaders cared about political results, instead of military ones.
Nothing I can control, though. At least we all want the same thing.
Parking in front of the JMSDF Maizuru District Headquarters, Katori brought the van to a smooth stop, shifting it into neutral and engaging the parking break with a practiced ease as Saratoga watched in envy. The American Carrier didn't know what she'd do with a driver's licence, but now that she was partially human, she felt like she needed one. Drivers licences were something humans just had, at least in her time. She wouldn't have time to get one in the immediate future, but when she returned to the states, who knew?
The Admiral got out first, walking to the starboard side of the van and sliding the door open. The division of destroyers in the back filed out, their excited conversation holding as they poured into the parking lot. Saratoga had learned their names, but had failed to keep them matched to their faces, and the fact that they talked to each other so quickly The American's rudimentary japanese knowledge couldn't keep up didn't help. It wasn't too bad, the destroyers behind her were having a good time after all, and it had served as white noise that kept her mind active during the hours-long drive.
Not that that was necessarily a good thing. For the first part of the journey, Saratoga had been wrapped up in the sights, enjoying the view of distant cities and scenic mountains while occasionally questioning Taiho about her homeland, but soon enough her thoughts drifted back home, and the crisis unfolding there.
When talking about the hostage situation, Zuikaku had been fairly certain that the abyssal that had hijacked the fishing trawler had been some kind of cruiser princess. That had been partially due to faulty intelligence, but to her it had seemed the most likely, especially with her... former state. The former Abyssal Crane Princess had considered 'fodder' Abyssals as little more than weapons platforms and shell sponges, meant only to further her goals. There was no chance that an Abyssal Princess would trust a lone cruiser to do… whatever they had been planning by hijacking the civilian vessel, and they might be right to do so. Without a veteran Princess around as a flagship, abyssal fodder typically didn't have the experience to fight toe-to-toe with human forces.
Saratoga hadn't been convinced, then, although she hadn't been sure why until Murray's call identified the abyssal fugitive as one of her old minions. The Abyssal Crane Princess had been focused on destroying the nation that had sunk her and the one that had left her as bait, and to that end she hadn't seen her abyssal minions as anything but pawns, resources to be developed, utilized, and sacrificed for her ultimate goal. That had carried over, somewhat, when she'd returned to her senses.
Zuikaku, and by extension the rest of the intelligence community, were focused on dealing with and 'rescuing' the numerous Princesses and Demons that commanded the Abyssal Fleets. It was a sensible strategy, in a way, but Saratoga couldn't be the only one that thought recent events proved that humanity was missing something.
Unlike the majority of abyssal princesses, she suspected, Jellyfish had a somewhat different view of her fleet. Instead of expendable pieces in some grand game, The Princess had viewed her ships more as dolls, stand-ins for relationships she didn't have anymore. She'd ignored slight imperfections in their designs, willing to pretend they were Essex-class Carriers, now that she was no longer able to mentor the real deal, and thought 'The Fire' had consigned her unofficial daughters to an early doom.
It still wasn't a good way to look at someone, but at least she could see them as people, now that she was thinking clearly. A particular memory had returned during the drive back, of Trinitite crying, towing her badly-damaged sister into harbor. Jellyfish had initially been concerned, but once it was clear the torpedo damage her sister- Hypocenter, she'd suddenly remembered- was repairable, she'd soon lost interest. The Princess spent a few moments pretending to comfort Hypocenter in the drydock- she'd said something, but Saratoga couldn't remember what- before leaving her with ice cream and returning to the clearly nervous Trinitite.
Jellyfish had hugged the Wo-class, allowing her to get her feelings out and explain the situation, but again, Saratoga couldn't remember anything Trinitite had said. Only with belated horror had Saratoga determined the reason: Jellyfish hadn't cared to listen. The Abyssal had been pouring her heart out, she assumed, but the thing that Saratoga had once been only been glad to see that her minions relied on her. Besides a hug, which the Wo-class could have gotten from one of her sisters that actually cared about her, besides a reassurance that Hypocenter was going to be alright, which she could have gotten from any observer, and besides the gallon of ice cream, Trinitite might as well have been confiding in a rock or tree.
The fact that it had taken this long for Saratoga to remember the incident at all was also telling. Jellyfish hadn't gone out of her way to kill anyone (although Trinitite and the rest of her escort fleet probably had, over the two years of war they'd been in), but she certainly wasn't any less selfish or kind than other Princesses. Unfortunately, that didn't bode well for what kind of intel she'd be able to recall to help track down the renegade Wo-class.
It was kind of creepy, actually, how much Jellyfish had glided through her life, going through the motions of having a family while only really thinking about her brief encounter with nuclear weapons. If there was a silver lining, Saratoga guessed it was a good thing that The Abyss had corrupted her on false pretences. Now that she knew that those tests had proved Nukes to be good ship-killers, like many other weapons, but poor fleet-killers, and that most of her successors had gone on to live exiting, unique, and long lives, Saratoga was fairly certain she wouldn't be able to fall back into that pit of despair again.
Probably. Who knew what The Abyss was capable of? Transmissions from some Abyssal Princesses, like the one that used to be Pearl Harbor, implied they had been corrupted so thoroughly that their perception of reality was irreconcilably warped. How much of their time after world war 2 did installations actually know?
This was an unhealthy train of thought. Best to focus on the present, for now.
Unbuckling herself from the seat, Saratoga swung the door open, allowing for a moment to feel the wind against her skin before taking in her surroundings. She hadn't taken the car trip as well as the flight over, but that had mostly been because the air conditioning hadn't quite been able to keep up with all the shipgirls in a tight space. In the crowded van, it had started to smell like paint, exhaust, hydraulic fluid and sweat, so the sea breeze was a welcome change.
"Welcome to Maizuru, Saratoga."
At Admiral Hirano's announcement, the American Carrier returned her attention to her commander.
"Thank you, Admiral." Saratoga replied, surveying the area around her. Besides the entrance facing the sea, a forested hill enveloped the base, providing the JMSDF with a natural barrier that dulled the sounds of the city. "This is pretty scenic, for a military base."
"The guards get plenty of exercise patrolling the perimeter, that's for sure." The Admiral replied. "Your quarters will be in our shipgirl dormitories. 305 is open, but you might be asked to share your room with someone if another ship is assigned to base. Taiho, give her a tour and help her get situated." The admiral checked her watch, before turning her attention back to the American. "Saratoga, Katori? Meet me at my office at 1600. We'll discuss some initial training plans after Sara's had a chance to meet everyone. Understood?"
The three shipgirls replied with a chorus of "Hai," and Admiral Hirano acknowledged it with a small nod.
"Good. I need to get back to work before the accumulating paperwork crushes my desk. You're dismissed."
As the Admiral left for the headquarters building, Katori addressed the two.
"Half of the carriers are on leave, today. I'll throw together a briefing on the state of their training while you two get situated."
"Thank you." Saratoga acknowledged. "Uh- good driving, by the way."
The training cruiser gave a short thank you and a thin smile, before dismissing herself as well. That left the fidgeting Taiho with Saratoga, an uncomfortable silence settling in between the two. Internally, the American Carrier frowned. They didn't have any bad history she was forgetting, right?
"Well- I guess you should follow me, then." Taiho finally piped up, brushing her bangs out of her face.
"I'll be in your care, Taiho." Saratoga echoed.
- - -
"Am I allowed to be in here?"
Taiho looked away from an old ship's bell, giving the American Carrier a curious look. It was an odd question, but her teacher seemed… nervous, strangely enough, so it must have been genuine.
"You should be." Taiho replied, suddenly unsure of herself. "The compound isn't stocked right now, but forigen shipgirls have triggered summonings before. There isn't any rule against it, as far as I know."
"Oh." Saratoga replied, her face showing that she didn't understand at all. "That's odd. I was told to steer clear of the summoning chamber in San Diego."
"Huh." That was odd. The Americans must have had some reason, but one wasn't immediately obvious to her. It could be serious, like them not fully trusting the former princess, or it could just be their scientists not wanting any extra variables as they tried to learn the process. Taiho thought relying on scientists instead of priests was the American's first mistake, but they had achieved some success. As far as she knew, the US was still struggling to perfect their summoning technique, and Japanese advisors hadn't been as helpful as everyone had hoped they'd be.
"Maybe we just do things differently?" Taiho suggested, looking back at the open summoning compound. The newest addition to the base, the recently-erected collection of structures wouldn't qualify as a traditional shrine, but the casual observer might mistake it for one. Where the traditional honden would sit, a wooden structure shielded a pool from the elements, it's interior lined with several symbols of shinto and Japan, glass-cased artifacts from the nearby Imperial Navy Memorial Hall, and steel shelves where a forklift could unload pallets of resources to aid the summoning.
Of course, the bored-looking MP dressed in camouflage and modern body armor was certainly not a shrine maiden, so Taiho guessed most casual observers would be able to make the distinction, eventually.
At Kure, where she'd been summoned, the layout had been significantly different, although the general principles had been the same. Each district's summoning area had similar differences, which was probably why some nations had only managed successful summonings in a handful of their ports.
"I'll have to ask." Saratoga replied, studying an image of the current Emperor.
Taiho considered asking if The American could let her know once she found out, but thought better of it.
"Uh, shall we move on, then?"
"Of course." Saratoga replied, in english. "Lead the way."
On the surface, the tour was going great. Saratoga seemed interested in her new home, asking questions and giving the occasional complement or judgement, but between areas of interest the American would seem to lose focus, sometimes taking time to respond to Taiho's questions and seeming to occasionally lose track of her.
Was she alright? She wasn't upset by something, was she? As the carriers walked in silence, Taiho's mind raced through the possibilities. She'd just been converted from an abyssal. Had that been a traumatic process? The Carrier had spoken with Zuikaku before, but never long enough to get a good read on her character. Maybe the purification hadn't been as complete as they'd thought, and she was in a battle with her less noble side? That wasn't possible, was it?
Maybe she'd been reading too much manga, because that was a bit of a convoluted answer. She'd just moved to a new area, after all, with practically no time to get acquainted with her friends and home back in the US. The idea of stationing some of the inexperienced carriers in the US to train them had been floating around for a while, and Taiho had spent a lot of time contemplating the thought of spending over a year in an alien location like Norfolk or San Diego. The idea of trying to get used to another culture entirely, with few familiar faces to help you through it, kept Taiho up at night sometimes. She'd only barely figured out modern Japan, after all.
Still, that was relying on her own experiences, perhaps a little too much. Would a hardened veteran, who'd been all around the world in her old life, be as anxious as her? Probably not.
That left a disturbing possibility. She hadn't insulted the American somehow, right? The question gnawed at her boilers as they walked, making her wonder about her future. Was Saratoga the type to hold in a grudge? If so, she needed to correct this, and fast!
Hesitantly, JS Taiho stopped, gathering courage to speak up.
"Uh… Saratoga?"
The American stopped as well, giving Taiho a questioning look.
"Yes, Taiho?"
Taiho took a deep breath, wondering if she was about to make the problem much worse.
"Is- Is everything okay?" Taiho ventured, checking around them. Between buildings, they seemed to be relatively alone. The occasional human sailor that passed them seemed focused on their own duties, at least. "Something seems to be bothering you. If I did anything wrong, I'd like to apologize-"
An abrupt laugh interrupted Taiho's offer, Saratoga shaking her head as the chuckle died off. When she looked back at Taiho, she bore a melancholy expression Taiho seen before, in intelligence reports about the Jellyfish Princess.
"I'm the one that should be apologizing, Taiho." She started, straightening and bowing to the younger carrier. "The details are classified, but there's a situation back home, related to my… old self. I can't do anything about it now, so I should stop fretting over it, but it's been distracting me. You've done great."
"I'm glad." The Japanese carrier smiled back at Saratoga, but it was forced. What kind of problem would have a veteran like Saratoga so distracted?
"Let's continue, then."
The Jellyfish Princess had mostly been pacifist, right? What kind of scheme could she have hatched that would have been so diabolical that it would continue after her 'death?'
...No, the abyssals didn't have a nuke, did they? Asking her really had been a mistake. Now, she was worrying, too, and she didn't even know what was happening!
Alright, so after writing about half of the next chapter, some feedback helped me realize I should probably break up Trinitite's weekend with another interlude. I know there was some good criticism about the last Taiho/Saratoga interlude, so I tried to take those into account while writing this one. A bit more links to Trinitite, and the like. Didn't manage to introduce Saratoga's gaggle of students, but I'm not sure that's a bad thing. I don't need to, after all, and it might be better from a writing perspective to only bring them in when the can contribute to this subplot, two or three at a time, linking them to characters that are more established along the way.
Also, this should be about the deepest look we're going to get into the summoning process that I've set up for this fic. There's a lot of kancolle fics that dedicate a scene to a new ship getting summoned, so I don't feel the need to retread ground in that aspect. I generally go by the philosophy of trying to allow this fic to be somewhat approachable to someone who doesn't know kancolle, but this should give them enough clues as to what it's like.
Okay, taking in what I just read in this latest episode in the story was something else, shall we say.
So . . . the Jelly Fish Princess really . . . did not care for poor Trin and her sisters beyond the assets they represented in combat. Manipulating them in the end. FODDER, just like the other Abyssals under other Princesses. And Trin didn't have clue one...
That is so f*cked!! Trinitite deserves better. All her Abyssal sisters deserved better.
I so very much do hope that if Saratoga and Trin meet again that IF it doesn't end in tears and blood, that some kind of BETTER relationship occurs between them both. Even IF it sounds very sappy to me, I hope for this thank you very much.
It makes sense that an Abyssal murder-machine wouldn't be too interested in her fleet, but it is still pretty sad for Trin. I do wonder if Saratoga is passing on what she remembers since I would think that would influence the response to Trin.
It also just sort of clicked that Trin's viewing of everything as "such and such fleet" is basically a pack mentality writ large.
Given her past issues with other Abyssals I'd laugh if some news about a particular Abyssal fleet ever pops up and she just starts shit talking them in a weirdly specific yet sorta petty way. Like, "Oh of course their attack failed they couldn't hit a wave in the ocean!"
Okay, taking in what I just read in this latest episode in the story was something else, shall we say.
So . . . the Jelly Fish Princess really . . . did not care for poor Trin and her sisters beyond the assets they represented in combat. Manipulating them in the end. FODDER, just like the other Abyssals under other Princesses. And Trin didn't have clue one...
That is so f*cked!! Trinitite deserves better. All her Abyssal sisters deserved better.
I think you are confusing the two princesses mentioned this chapter. Jellyfish didnt view them as expendable pawns but as dolls that are replacements for the people she can no longer mentor. She is interested in being their mother/ Big sister without actually caring about them, as long as they relied on her was her only priority.
I think you are confusing the two princesses mentioned this chapter. Jellyfish didnt view them as expendable pawns but as dolls that are replacements for the people she can no longer mentor. She is interested in being their mother/ Big sister without actually caring about them, as long as they relied on her was her only priority.
Then again, one hollow thing is hardly any better for Trin and her deceased sisters than another. Fodder or hollow doll without the emotional attactment? Both equally tragic.
Repeating myself: hope that something BETTER comes between Trin and Saratoga sooner or later.
Jellyfish had hugged the Wo-class, allowing her to get her feelings out and explain the situation, but again, Saratoga couldn't remember anything Trinitite had said. Only with belated horror had Saratoga determined the reason: Jellyfish hadn't cared to listen. The Abyssal had been pouring her heart out, she assumed, but the thing that Saratoga had once been only been glad to see that her minions relied on her. Besides a hug, which the Wo-class could have gotten from one of her sisters that actually cared about her, besides a reassurance that Hypocenter was going to be alright, which she could have gotten from any observer, and besides the gallon of ice cream, Trinitite might as well have been confiding in a rock or tree.
oof, that hit right in the feels. I mean it makes sense really, the abyss is handcrafting each princess to be a narcissistic monster. I guess jellyfish was no exception, she just didn't exhibit active cruelty, while providing superficial comfort.
It's interesting that by all indications, her fleet still turned out mostly ok, assuming Trinitite is typical. I guess in the absence of active abuse, the blank slate of the lesser abyssals drifted in the general direction of baseline. Though if jellyfish wanted her dolls to play nice, she might have actually been providing a bit of guidance.
besides a reassurance that Hypocenter was going to be alright, which she could have gotten from any observer, and besides the gallon of ice cream, Trinitite might as well have been confiding in a rock or tree.
I've seen worse parenting in fiction where audience was suposed to actually like and sympathice with the parent in question.
Also, i would not fully trust the memories here, the viewpoint of the character has shifted dramatically, making them less reliable adjudicator of their previous actions and motivations than they otherwise would be, and more likely to view them in negative light.
Trin is crying tears of joy. Hugging her mother closely. An Sara has a creeped out look on her face. Because a Abyssal murder-machine is touching and calling her "mommy"
Trin is crying tears of joy. Hugging her mother closely. An Sara has a creeped out look on her face. Because a Abyssal murder-machine is touching and calling her "mommy"
I've seen worse parenting in fiction where audience was suposed to actually like and sympathice with the parent in question.
Also, i would not fully trust the memories here, the viewpoint of the character has shifted dramatically, making them less reliable adjudicator of their previous actions and motivations than they otherwise would be, and more likely to view them in negative light.
I'm not sure about the unreliability, she has a new perspective but she's likely right about the old priorities. though I agree jellyfish was not really abusive. Going through the motions of providing comfort without caring is solid D+ parenting.
I'm not sure about the unreliability, she has a new perspective but she's likely right about the old priorities. though I agree jellyfish was not really abusive. Going through the motions of providing comfort without caring is solid D+ parenting.
Unreliable, because she will not be looking at her motives objectively, nobody does, and the change in perspective makes her even less able to do so.
She probably can tell reliably what she did, but why, and how bad it was, will probably not be fully accurate, instead being viewed in the worst possible light.
Very interesting points, both sides of this discussion. Like it.
But that said, I would wager that IF Trin and Saratoga meet each other that Sara is going to be more inclined to be kind towards Trin. Instead of merely just fearful...
You remember the ending of "Alien 4" Repley killed a monster that comsidered her to be his mother.
I doubt it will happen here. A worst it will be Trin following Sara around like a lost puppy. Sara treating Trin like a said puppy. She will feed it and clean after it. But it will not be the love a mother has for a child but one a dog owner has for a pet.
I said its the worst case scenario but it really isn't that bad. Trin will be happy.
I think you are confusing the two princesses mentioned this chapter. Jellyfish didnt view them as expendable pawns but as dolls that are replacements for the people she can no longer mentor. She is interested in being their mother/ Big sister without actually caring about them, as long as they relied on her was her only priority.
So . . . the Jelly Fish Princess really . . . did not care for poor Trin and her sisters beyond the assets they represented in combat. Manipulating them in the end. FODDER, just like the other Abyssals under other Princesses. And Trin didn't have clue one...
That is so f*cked!! Trinitite deserves better. All her Abyssal sisters deserved better.
More or less. Maybe not expendable like with some princesses, but certainly replaceable.
At least she's better then her sister the Battlecruiser Princess, who's held on to a small screen and dumps any more children she gets on the nearest fleet, because she doesn't want to settle down anywhere and actually train newcomers.
Given her past issues with other Abyssals I'd laugh if some news about a particular Abyssal fleet ever pops up and she just starts shit talking them in a weirdly specific yet sorta petty way. Like, "Oh of course their attack failed they couldn't hit a wave in the ocean!"
Well, she's already got her thing about the Re-class, but there's a bunch of other fleets she's interacted with. Some left a pretty good impression on her, like the Supply Depot Princess's fleet, while others... not so much.
I do want to expand on that in the future, but where the story is there's no good way to introduce you to other fleets beyond offhand comments, so...
Also, i would not fully trust the memories here, the viewpoint of the character has shifted dramatically, making them less reliable adjudicator of their previous actions and motivations than they otherwise would be, and more likely to view them in negative light.
Yeah, it's one of those questions an author explores, but doesn't answer, because, at the risk of sounding pretentious, "that would fall within the purview of your conundrums of philosophy."
It really depends on how valid you consider Utilitarianism is, and ho boy, I had to retake my CS Ethics course, so there's no way I'm an authority on this topic. Aced Philosophy, but that was because the grade was basically three creative writing assignments and showing up to class.
edit: Also, whomever decided to schedule the class next to one of the univiersity's coffee shops was either a genius or payed off by Moxie Java, because loads of caffeine during class probably helped as well.
Normally, she hated its burning light, but at the moment it was subdued, the warming sensation insufficient to irritate her burned deck. The pain there lingered, telling Trinitite the work in the machine shop hadn't progressed enough for the damage elsewhere to be seriously addressed, but she supposed it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't like she needed to be restored to her full capabilities any time soon, and even if she was in her best shape, there wasn't much she could do if she was found this far inside human territory.
The ache was bad, but becoming tolerable. She'd even forgotten about it a few times yesterday!
Speaking of aches, The Abyssal was suddenly aware of her… inefficient sleeping position. Last night, after several minutes of holding the cookbook basically against her face to make out the text in the dim light, Trinitite had given up and settled down to rest. She supposed she could have used one of the innumerable lights that hung above the human's roads, but she'd gotten comfortable by then, and considering her busy day catching some sleep didn't sound like too bad an idea.
Now that she'd been in this position for several hours, though, it didn't seem so comfortable.
The Wo-class groaned, stretching as she brushed some of her hair from her face. Suddenly, the undergrowth around her shifted, unfamiliar chittering breaking out from all around her. The Carrier's eyes shot open, and the abyssal sat up as quickly as she could, scanning for threats. They caught several blurry forms, their rapidly flapping wings betraying their nature as they disappeared into the trees above her. Okay, so overnight she'd been surrounded by birds for… some reason. At least she knew what they were, and that they were harmless.
Trinitite sighed, the tension in her hull evaporating as she crossed her legs and leaned forwards. That probably wasn't going to be the first time she woke up like that, unfortunately. There were just too many animals, some much larger than she was used to in abyssal-heald islands, roaming around human territory. It would be stressful, but she had some tactics to deal with that, now.
Trinitite smiled, her thoughts drifting back to her night at the Baskin-Robbins. She'd gotten a little carried away, but she'd needed it. Taking a moment to check that her island's lights weren't active anymore, Trinitite retrieved one of her recipe books from her hold. With the sun rising and no visible clouds to impede it's reign, Trinitite wouldn't have the lighting issues that had hampered her last night.
And so, Trinitite allowed herself a half hour to pour over the recipe books. The library wouldn't be open for a while, if Trinitite's chronometer was accurate, and Trinitite wasn't going to be able to execute her plans for the day until she had checked with the records there, so Trinitite had plenty of time to review it and… relax.
They were a bit of a frustrating read, though. The complex instructions involved a lot of tools, some she recognized as scrap in her galley, and some that flew over her deck entirely. Did she need to add even more terms to her list?
Reluctantly, she did so, allowing the list to expand like a fresh corpse on the ocean floor. Trinitite had no idea what a microwave was, and it probably wasn't that important, but there was a chance it might be. Maybe if she made a second list, for things she didn't feel she needed to know, but was curious about? No, that was making things too complicated. She'd just have to get used to the possibility that she'd probably never work all the way through it.
It did provide an answer to what she was supposed to do with rice, though. Something to do with a 'skillet,' whatever that was, and lots of other ingredients. Uncrumpling the empty bag of rice and studying it again, Trinitite looked for any other clarifications. With the daylight it was much easier to read the smaller text here, especially since a good portion of it was a barely noticeable light brown on a white background.
...Hang on, there were directions here! Under the sun, the small text and thinly-drawn diagrams made it obvious. You were just supposed to boil water? Trinitite didn't have any way to do that, at the moment, not unless her galley had fixed itself since she'd last checked, but it didn't seem that complicated. Just impossible, for now.
Also, there was a diagram of a machine labeled 'Microwave' that she recognized from the construction site's office. It looked fairly straightforward, actually, meaning she probably didn't need to have it on her list after all. Put something in the box, that thing gets hot. No explanation as to how that happened, but she wasn't going to waste time figuring that out until she could inspect it for herself. Trinitite could cross that off her list right away. Two topics down, fifty three to go.
Speaking of that rice, last night's meal hadn't been quite as filling as she'd hoped. Before getting started for her free day, she'd need to do another resupply, preferably with foods that didn't need to be submerged in boiling water this time. Thankfully, the team of logistics officers she'd ordered last night to painstakingly comb through her food supplies and determine what was easily edible had a few items for her: A collection of boxes with wildly differing labeling and coloring, but each describing some kind of bar. Breakfast bars, granola bars, chewy bars, cereal bars… most of them looked like the same thing, really, but she was going to hold her questions until she'd tried them, especially considering their wildly different packaging. Were they made by different fleets?
Trinitite couldn't help but speculate on the politics leading to that. If she could produce these bars and sell them to the Fred Meyers Fleet, she wouldn't be happy to learn that they were getting bars from another fleet as well, unless Trinitite's bar-making equipment wasn't sufficient to keep up with the Fred Meyers Fleet's requirements. In that case, however, they might consider switching to the rival bar-making fleet entirely, just so they didn't have to worry about protecting supply convoys between two sources. Maybe the Fred Meyers Fleet didn't trust these bar providers, and wanted to secure agreements with several bar-making fleets to ensure none of them could withhold bars unless their demands were met? Supplies didn't seem to need as much of a guard in human territory, so maybe that shifted the logic behind these negotiations.
Again, this was something she wasn't going to get an answer on, but it was kinda fun to ponder while she ate.
Instead of finishing one box of bars and moving onto the next, Trinitite opened each box, laying the twenty-or-so of the colorfully-decorated containers out in front of her. Each bar had its own wrapping, which was unfortunately composed of inedible plastic but did make them conveniently portable, and this allowed her to keep each box open without worrying about animals raiding her supplies. They'd already been interested in her, or perhaps the rice she'd dropped last night, while she was sleeping. Who knew if they were waiting out of her sight, preparing for a raid when she'd let her guard down? Gathering one bar from each package, Trinitite started her meal, ripping the wrapping open with her teeth and taking a speculative nibble, followed by a larger bite, and then another, until she'd finished and tore open another wrapped bar.
They were… interesting. Their flavors varied between sweet and salty, some melting as she bit into them, others crunching as the nuts and… whatever else they were made of offered resistance. The sweet-and-bitter chocolate from last night returned, which was a pleasant surprise, while differently colored and flavored chips that weren't quite the same decorated several other bars. It was hard to really tell what the difference between each label meant, as there seemed to be plenty of overlap between types of bars, but at least this didn't need any special preparation to become edible. It was also a little dry, but that wasn't a problem more juice couldn't handle. It seemed like a lot of them were some form of cranberry, so The Abyssal washed her bars down with the basic cranberry juice. She could try the mixes after she'd learned what cranberry actually tasted like.
When she was done, she'd gotten through about half of each box, and had several dozen opened wrappers to deal with. She understood why the humans would work with plastic, as it's properties seemed useful. However, now that she was done with her meal, Trinitite was left with far too many opened wrappers, unsure what to do with all this extra plastic. Hesitantly, she stuffed it back into her hull, hoping to find someplace to dump it later. If nothing else worked, she could find some building's head and flush it away before anyone else noticed.
Before she left, Trinitite took a moment to gently repack the boxes so she wouldn't have to deal with any half-filled containers, freeing up a good deal of space in her hold and leaving her with a lot of spare cardboard. It didn't taste like much, really, but the material might help with the repairs, and it did give her a reason to finish off this container of cranberry juice. Of course, that was plastic, too, so there wasn't much she could do with it either. Actually, it could hold all of the wrappers she had to deal with...
The Library still wasn't open yet, but Trinitite wasn't getting anything else done here, so she started making her way over. During the walk, she kept herself occupied by calling her crew to general quarters. The announcement echoed through her halls, and as Trinitite gazed inwards she could see them scramble through her decks, manning their positions with a mixture of panic and surprise. She couldn't do anything to train her air wing, but she'd be a special kind of stupid if she didn't try to keep the rest of her crew drilled, at least.
Hmm, it took twenty seconds longer than last time before all divisions reported ready. She'd been letting herself slip, it seemed, and her normal crew still had something to do. She hated to think how sloppy her pilots had gotten. They were doing everything they could to remain sharp, such as walking through dogfights in the briefing room and practicing rushing to their damaged planes in the hangar and on deck, but Trinitite couldn't think of any replacement for flight time, which wasn't going to happen.
Soon enough, 0730 rolled around, and Trinitite entered the library. Getting through her list could wait. She wasn't going to get sucked into any major revelations or detailed explanations until she'd acquired those boots. Activating the computer with a practiced ease, she deftly clicked on the bar at the bottom and started searching the console.
Steel toe boots.
She was getting faster. It only took her about twelve seconds to input the term, this time! Clicking on 'see web results' to bring up information on the subject, Trinitite's eyes fell upon an odd button.
Who are you shopping for?
(men) (women)
Okay, that was creepy. Why were the questions the machine asked phrased so… personally? Still, she guessed she could narrow things down, so she clicked on the button labeled 'women.' A collection of labeled photographs appeared just below her revised question, with the name of a fleet, she presumed, sitting below their label and price.
…Hold on, she recognized one of those names, from back at Shelton. She'd skipped the large warehouse labeled 'Walmart' because the fleet seemed like it had been too alert to raid, but it's massive, glowing sign ensured she didn't forget the name. By sea, she wasn't that far, but on land? It was impractically distant, at best.
Out of curiosity, or perhaps because it was half the price of every other set (One hundred and eighty dollars for boots? The price hadn't been that high at Fred Meyers, right?), Trinitite clicked on that one. Now, she had a larger image to look at, and the knowledge that the fleet that made it offered boots in three different colors, but that wasn't what she was looking for.
'Free 2-Day Delivery?' That didn't mean what she thought it did, did it? Trinitite looked down, withdrawing her money from her hold and rubbing it between her fingers. First off, nothing was free. There had to be a catch here, somewhere. How was she supposed to pay them, anyways? Were you supposed to set up a rendezvous location, ask them to deliver it there at the decided time, and hope one of the fleets didn't bring enough firepower to ensure they got everything out of the deal? Walmart might worry about their reputation, but they couldn't trust everyone they dealt with.
Figuring out those logistics might matter later, but Trinitite didn't have two days to wait. Instead, she focused on the next line.
Free pickup today. In stock at Lynnwood, 1400 164th St SW.
So, did that mean she could just arrive and take the boots off of them, or would she still have to give them the eighty dollars, and not have to pay anything extra for the privilege of entering their warehouse? That didn't make any sense, as almost all other buildings belonging to fleets she'd entered had wanted her to come in.
That was only one of two unanswered questions, however. She was absolutely sure the town place she'd raided had been Shelton, so why did they say they were at Lynnwood? Where was Lynnwood? In a new tab, Trinitite retyped the place's name, as well as all the odd numbers after it, and sent it as another request to the library's computer. That was a Walmart there, alright, and judging by the map a link led her to, it was just over a mile from where she was! How many Walmarts were there?
Probably a question for the list, but since she was already here, she didn't see the harm in opening another new tab and asking real quick. Trinitite clicked the search, scrolling past a useless number and several related questions, before seeing the highlighted answer… and was sent reeling back in her chair.
More than ten thousand? She knew that humans operated in large numbers, but an operation of that size made the Supply Depot Princess's logistics network look like Penang's little market. The Carrier's head spun, trying and failing to visualize that many warehouses of the size she'd seen at Shelton, and the scale of the fleet required to maintain them. The humans lived in massive concrete-and-steel blocks buildings that optimistically measured in the hundreds. They had The Fire, which could throw a fleet around like driftwood. Something as basic as a fleet that tended warehouses outnumbered The Abyss by hundreds-to-one.
How hadn't they simply crushed the abyssal fleets under their sheer weight, yet? The question bounced around her bridge, echoing through her decks as she continued to turn it over in her mind, but an answer failed to come to her. She wasn't going to figure out any time soon, she suspected. Best to move on, mark the nearest location on her chart, investigate that location, and try to forget the problem before the next time she attempted to sleep.
...Except her chart room didn't have any good light. Looking to make sure the Library's tenders weren't paying attention to her, Trinitite stood, looking directly into an overhead light to give her crew something to to work with. She hadn't had enough time to fully explore the Fred Meyers's warehouse, anyways. It might be worthwhile to give one of these some through reconnaissance.
Yeah, fast update because I only had to write half a chapter! Because it was so quick, I feel like I'd rushed through it, but when I went through it again it didn't seem so rushed.
You can tell why I wanted to put an interlude between this chapter and the last, I hope. A bit more of the same, which is also why this chapter feels a bit more... abbreviated then the last one. The plan is to have one more weekend chapter before we jump back into Trinitite's work, as well as some other developments in Naval Station Everett.
