Annoyed Catholic
Moody fellow
Be hurt my friend! But hey, it wasn't every sentence.
....
Just every OTHER sentence!!
But sorry about that. Had to be done.
Last edited:
All Wo-rk and No Play: An Abyssal's Trials in the Job Market (KC)
- Thread starter PyrrhicSteel
- Start date
Be hurt my friend! But hey, it wasn't every sentence.
....
Just every OTHER sentence!!
But sorry about that. Had to be done.
- Location
- Somewhere
Well, at least it's good news for Trinitite that Saratoga called her "daughter" before correcting herself.
Stahor
BookWorm
- Location
- Russia, Moscow
I think it will improve readability if you use not only caps, but italic and bold. Or intention is "internal screaming"?
On January 27, 1928, during an experiment, a hard airship ′′ Los Angeles ′′ (ZR-3) sat on the deck of the US aircraft carrier ′′Saratoga"
On January 27, 1928, during an experiment, a hard airship ′′ Los Angeles ′′ (ZR-3) sat on the deck of the US aircraft carrier ′′Saratoga"
I cannot help but to notice that Saratoga and Los Angeles are facing in opposing directions. I would not have thought that to be convenient.
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Just finished the next chapter, but I want to do an editing pass first, and I have a nasty habit of posting a chapter here without replying to everything I want to, so here we go:
Fortunately for Trin, a lot of it doesn't apply to her, as you said.
Right. There was some more disagreement with this in later comments, but it's fair enough. I'll keep 'The' out of capitalization (outside of specific circumstances). from now on.
It'll be the chapter after the next, don't worry! But yeah, I don't try to be too bad with cliffhangers, but sometimes it's just hard to end a chapter, so you gotta use one.
At some point it just gets hard to care about grammar. It's important, I know, but the minutia can get really tedious sometimes.
I've been doing a lot of research into the minutia of finding people, and have just learned how much I don't know about tracking people down.
Fortunately for Trin, a lot of it doesn't apply to her, as you said.
Awesome, an omake! Any critiques I might have were already covered so I'll focus on this:
I honestly hadn't thought of this. For the government by this point, Trinitite might know too much to die. The last thing humanity needs are these skills being passed down to an abyssal fleet's submarines...
I don't see the end of Electronic Slide Deck as a cliffhanger. You're clearly intending to skip a pile of rehash between chapters. If you continued the narration, rather than ending the chapter, you would not resolve any of the tension within the next several hundred words, and probably not within the next thousand. Hence, no cliffhanger.
40: The Old Human
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Trinitite sighed, remembering to avoid leaning against the flimsy rebar cage next to her. Glancing away from the other member of her team, the Wo-Class inspected Sern and Alton's work, dully watching them adjust a bar into place, before looking beyond them. In the center of the floor, the rest of Austin's crew were shouting commands to each other, crowding around the slowly-forming structure in the center of the floor.
"You know…" The Abyssal hesitated, looking back towards her partner. "I can take over if you need me to."
The human took a moment to respond, grunting as he threw his weight into the rebar bender's lever. They'd only been at this for a few hours, and it already looked like Tirto was overstressing his boilers. His keel heaved as he sucked in air, and mysterious condensation coated his dark skin, giving it a wet sheen the abyssal couldn't simply attribute to the sparse rain.
"Next column, maybe." He sighed, raising the lever and removing the properly-formed length of rebar. "An old man like me needs his exercise, or he'll fall apart."
"Oh." Trinitite replied, her mind failing to make full sense of the statement. Accepting her end of the rebar length, the Abyssal let loose an almost incredulous "Really?"
She couldn't help herself. She needed clarification. Unless humans had a very different definition of exercises, there was no way you could maintain your machinery by running it as hard as he was. Were humans that dependent on the skills of their crew, and needed to make sure they were constantly at maximum readiness?
"When you get older…" Tirto started, raising his end of the rebar length to the column's skeleton. "You won't be able to get muscle mass easily. You'll need to work hard to keep your strength. I don't want to spend the rest of my life on a porch, after all."
"Ah, okay." The Wo-class replied, focusing on the level she was holding to the rebar as a tactic to mask her lack of comprehension. The Jellyfish Princess was older then she was, which meant she couldn't quite match Trinitite in some categories such as aircraft capacity, but Trinitite still didn't understand how that correlated with having to work more. Sure, an exercise was important to hone the skills of you and your crew, but improving the power and reliability of your machinery? "Move it up a bit."
...Come to think of it, humans probably didn't even have a crew, did they? Trinitite never saw a seagull or a fish with a crew, and while it might have just been an insult, she'd heard that humans were technically animals even before the battle of Bikini. In hindsight, the fact that a human was made of meat and blood should have been so obvious that Trinitite should have guessed it a long time ago. In fact, some of the ships she'd known had probably guessed as much when she'd known them, like Hypocenter.
Had she really thought that a steel hull like her mother in the old days or that oversized destroyer that had tried to sink Trinitite had their crew of humans, who had their own crews? Would the crews of the crews also have their own crews? How far down could that have gone?
The answer was, of course, that she hadn't believed that, because she hadn't even considered the issue until now. Stupid, stupid Wo!
"Elizabeth?" Tirto's thick accent towed Trinitite's floundering mind back into reality. "Are you alright?"
"Oh! Uh, sorry." Trinitite answered, too shaken by the revelation to think of a good excuse. "Up a bit more."
They continued work on the pillar, conversation between the two dwindling as Tirto labored at the lever, picking back up when they adjusted it and tied it into place. The abyssal continued to dwell on the latest revelation, not paying too much attention to watching the human work.
She guessed she'd been a bit too hard on herself. Humans did look a lot more like her then a sea bird did, after all, at least when she couldn't manifest her hull. It was probably something she should have asked Mother about, back when she was available to answer questions, but for now 'how does a human work' should fit pretty well into her research list.
The length of rebar secured, Trinitite's arms fell back to her side, part of the Wo-Class wishing she had her rigging's cane or that walking stick in her hold out, so her hands would have something to do while she waited on Tirto.
What was that sheen from, anyways? The only phenomena she could think of would be condensation, but she wasn't sure how much sense that made. Sure, it was about as humid as it could be, given the temperature, but Trinitite never heard of something cooling down as it worked. Maybe his weird animal biology had a refrigeration system that dumped heat into the ground? Was that what blood was for? It never seemed that cold in fish, birds, and that creature she'd had after making landfall, but then again, humans were a different type of animal.
Having finished bending the rebar into its proper shape, Tirto rose and the pair repeated the process of tying it into place.
"So." Tirto spoke up again, as he secured his end of the rebar to the column. "You're from the Marshall Islands, yes?"
She nodded, checking the level she was holding to the rebar one more time before returning it to her hold.
"That's correct." She confirmed, trying to prevent a guarded tone from creeping into her voice. If Sern had shared his suspicions with the rest of the group, Tirto might try to confirm Trinitite's story even if he didn't believe his coworker's suspicions. That could be a problem. Trinitite didn't know enough about how humans lived to invent a good story.
"What was it like?"
Trinitite blinked. That was a little more… open ended then she expected, but she supposed that was fortunate. As Tirto scooped up another length of rebar and threaded it into the bender, the abyssal focused on remembering her home.
"It was… nice." Part of the Carrier wished she could think of a less… lame way to begin, but Trinitite wasn't sure how else to discuss her home. "The sun got a bit too much at times, but otherwise our island was…" The abyssal struggled to find an appropriate word, "Peaceful."
That was true most of the time, at least.
Tirto grunted in acknowledgement as he again threw his weight under the bender's lever.
"I don't know the Marshalls that well," the human started, flipping the rebar and feeding the other side of the length into the bender, "but what island were you on?"
Trinitite winced, glad her partner was busy measuring out where to situate the rebar length in the bender. This was probably the weakest part of her story.
"I don't remember." She lied. "Mother had the island to herself, and we never really left, so we just called it 'The Island.'"
"A private island?" Tirto asked. He'd been ready to pull the bender's lever again, but paused, giving Trinitite a surprised look. "What did your mother do?"
The human didn't seem incredulous, just surprised. She guessed that with so many humans, ones with their own islands before the war must have been rare, but since there apparently was a name for it, it couldn't have been that uncommon.
"I don't know." The Wo-class answered. "She never talked much about her past."
Trinitite wasn't sure if Tirto asked how Jellyfish had gotten the material to trade for the land, or how she'd managed to conquer it, but the vague answer should be good enough.
"Huh." Tirto replied, his eyes unfocusing as he thought over Trinitite's excuse. With a grunt, he abruptly turned to his work, bending the other end of the rebar length into shape.
"Your family…" He started, handing Trinitite her end of the rebar. He waited to finish the thought until she'd gotten her end secured to the pillar. "...are they alright?"
Trinitite froze, the image of Hypocenter's unseeing eyes replacing that of the level.
"...I'm sorry." Her partner spoke up, dispelling the image.
Letting out a breath, Trinitite shook her head, focusing back on her work.
"Down a bit." She started, shaking her head. "It's fine. My mother might still be alive, at least."
"Is this good?" Tirto asked, waving his head towards his end of the rebar. At Trinitite's nod, he started to tie it on.
This column finished, Trinitite stepped away, scooping up the rebar bender and tape measure before Trito could object. Tirto might indeed need that exercise, but unless Trinitite handled the hard work for the rest of the day, they weren't going to meet Austin's goal. There was no way she was going to fail her commander's expectations, no matter how optimistic they were. Initially, the pair made their way to the skeletal beginnings of the next column in silence, but after about a quarter of a minute Tirto spoke up again.
"It's almost worse when you don't know, isn't it?"
The Wo-class stopped, pondering Tirto's statement. One one hand, the knowledge that the rest of her fleet, from her dearest sisters to the most distant submarines had been sunk while she'd been spared by chance had been a weight in her mind ever since she left for the United States, but she'd always tried to distract herself from thinking about it. What was done was done, after all, and while she'd allowed herself some time to greve, often there were more important things to do.
On the other, she had no idea who exactly she was going to meet, once she finally found Saratoga. Throughout her mission so far, a part of her was always reminding her that all of this pain, effort, and risk might be for naught. What if this shipgirl that Jellyfish had become didn't remember anything, with Jellyfish being practically dead? What if she did remember Trinitite, but like her other colleagues in the Navy, hated her? What if, no matter what Trinitite said or did, the human's... conversion wasn't reversible? What if it was, but there was no hope a lone carrier with no support like herself could get to her?
Trinitite shook her head abruptly, trying to deal with the wetness gathering around her rangefinders without damaging her foundation.
"It is worse, Tirto."
"I can… relate." Tirto started, accepting Trinitite's level as she started with the rebar bender. "I have family on Java, if they're still alive."
"You do?" Trinitite asked, more surprise leaking into the voice then she'd intended. It was known that humans lurked in the jungles of many larger islands, but while Trinitite occasionally heard horror stories of groups jumping lone abyssals who'd strayed too far into the wilderness or watched them from just inside the treeline, it had never seemed like a major concern to Princesses she'd visited. There were rumors that the Central Princess was having serious problems with humans and a few ships in her island's jungle, but Jellyfish hadn't agreed to any missions to Central Princess's abode, so Trinitite never figured out how they'd posed any threat to the installation.
The closest she'd gotten to seeing one in person before her self-appointed mission was during that strange convoy into the African Port Princess's territory, where they'd been invited to a ceremony where some captured Humans would be 'released for judgement.' Normally curiosity would get the better of her, but by that point that installation's weirdness had disturbed her enough that Trinitite hadn't wanted to do anything more than stay in her temporary dorm while it transpired. Hypocenter had been the only abyssal from another fleet to take up the Installation on her offer, and her sister had refused to talk about what she'd seen once she returned.
"Huh." She continued, threading the first length into the bender. "Who are they?"
"Well…" Tirto answered, leaning on his knees. "There's my daughter, and my grandchildren."
Grandchildren? Something told Trinitite it would be better for her crew to transcribe the rest of this conversation, instead of just terms she didn't recognize.
"Oh." She acknowledged. As she dropped the lever on the bender, smoothly finishing a side of the rebar length, she added: "I hope they're okay."
To her surprise, Trinitite meant it. It was another stupid thing, but she hadn't really connected the humans she'd heard about lurking in the jungle with those she was working with now. They just… acted so differently then what she'd heard. Knowing one of her coworkers, the one that seemed the nicest so far, had some of their fleet still trapped in the warzone… Trinitite was conflicted. On one hand, hoping they were okay might have been considered a horrible betrayal by the princesses on Java, but what could a handful of humans do? Better for everyone if they managed to escape here, then force abyssals to waste munitions on them, right?
"That's all you can do, right?" Tirto said, watching Trinitite flip the length of rebar around and prepare the other end of the length. "I'm too old to fight, after all."
"I guess." Trinitite tempered, distracted by another thought. How had he managed to leave Java, anyways? Any human airfields on java had either been washed out by the rains or hosted only craters, and it wasn't like there was any human shipping in the area. "How'd you manage to get out?"
There was silence, as Trinitite finished bending the other end of the rebar length. Finished, she stood, getting a look at her coworker.
Tirto wasn't looking at her. He wasn't looking at anything, really. His exact thoughts were hidden to The Abyssal, the human's dark face was stiff, pained, she realized. Trinitite was a warship, created for the purpose of combat, but still she knew how terrible it could get when things weren't going your way. A human, with no obvious armament and much less strength, was never going to have a battle with abyssals 'going their way.' She hadn't paid much attention to how the abyssals before her time had secured their territory, but she couldn't have imagined it would have been pleasant for the humans who'd already been living there.
"Uh… sorry." She provided, although the words felt hollow.
"That's fine." He nodded, accepting his end of the length of rebar. "I'll tell you later, alright?"
"You don't have to." Trinitite replied, but Tirto shook his head.
"It helps, talking about it." He said, although he couldn't have been sincere. "Maybe after lunch."
"Alright." The abyssal relented, holding her end of the rebar in place while he started to secure his.
At least she wouldn't have to talk about her cover story anymore.
"You know…" The Abyssal hesitated, looking back towards her partner. "I can take over if you need me to."
The human took a moment to respond, grunting as he threw his weight into the rebar bender's lever. They'd only been at this for a few hours, and it already looked like Tirto was overstressing his boilers. His keel heaved as he sucked in air, and mysterious condensation coated his dark skin, giving it a wet sheen the abyssal couldn't simply attribute to the sparse rain.
"Next column, maybe." He sighed, raising the lever and removing the properly-formed length of rebar. "An old man like me needs his exercise, or he'll fall apart."
"Oh." Trinitite replied, her mind failing to make full sense of the statement. Accepting her end of the rebar length, the Abyssal let loose an almost incredulous "Really?"
She couldn't help herself. She needed clarification. Unless humans had a very different definition of exercises, there was no way you could maintain your machinery by running it as hard as he was. Were humans that dependent on the skills of their crew, and needed to make sure they were constantly at maximum readiness?
"When you get older…" Tirto started, raising his end of the rebar length to the column's skeleton. "You won't be able to get muscle mass easily. You'll need to work hard to keep your strength. I don't want to spend the rest of my life on a porch, after all."
"Ah, okay." The Wo-class replied, focusing on the level she was holding to the rebar as a tactic to mask her lack of comprehension. The Jellyfish Princess was older then she was, which meant she couldn't quite match Trinitite in some categories such as aircraft capacity, but Trinitite still didn't understand how that correlated with having to work more. Sure, an exercise was important to hone the skills of you and your crew, but improving the power and reliability of your machinery? "Move it up a bit."
...Come to think of it, humans probably didn't even have a crew, did they? Trinitite never saw a seagull or a fish with a crew, and while it might have just been an insult, she'd heard that humans were technically animals even before the battle of Bikini. In hindsight, the fact that a human was made of meat and blood should have been so obvious that Trinitite should have guessed it a long time ago. In fact, some of the ships she'd known had probably guessed as much when she'd known them, like Hypocenter.
Had she really thought that a steel hull like her mother in the old days or that oversized destroyer that had tried to sink Trinitite had their crew of humans, who had their own crews? Would the crews of the crews also have their own crews? How far down could that have gone?
The answer was, of course, that she hadn't believed that, because she hadn't even considered the issue until now. Stupid, stupid Wo!
"Elizabeth?" Tirto's thick accent towed Trinitite's floundering mind back into reality. "Are you alright?"
"Oh! Uh, sorry." Trinitite answered, too shaken by the revelation to think of a good excuse. "Up a bit more."
They continued work on the pillar, conversation between the two dwindling as Tirto labored at the lever, picking back up when they adjusted it and tied it into place. The abyssal continued to dwell on the latest revelation, not paying too much attention to watching the human work.
She guessed she'd been a bit too hard on herself. Humans did look a lot more like her then a sea bird did, after all, at least when she couldn't manifest her hull. It was probably something she should have asked Mother about, back when she was available to answer questions, but for now 'how does a human work' should fit pretty well into her research list.
The length of rebar secured, Trinitite's arms fell back to her side, part of the Wo-Class wishing she had her rigging's cane or that walking stick in her hold out, so her hands would have something to do while she waited on Tirto.
What was that sheen from, anyways? The only phenomena she could think of would be condensation, but she wasn't sure how much sense that made. Sure, it was about as humid as it could be, given the temperature, but Trinitite never heard of something cooling down as it worked. Maybe his weird animal biology had a refrigeration system that dumped heat into the ground? Was that what blood was for? It never seemed that cold in fish, birds, and that creature she'd had after making landfall, but then again, humans were a different type of animal.
Having finished bending the rebar into its proper shape, Tirto rose and the pair repeated the process of tying it into place.
"So." Tirto spoke up again, as he secured his end of the rebar to the column. "You're from the Marshall Islands, yes?"
She nodded, checking the level she was holding to the rebar one more time before returning it to her hold.
"That's correct." She confirmed, trying to prevent a guarded tone from creeping into her voice. If Sern had shared his suspicions with the rest of the group, Tirto might try to confirm Trinitite's story even if he didn't believe his coworker's suspicions. That could be a problem. Trinitite didn't know enough about how humans lived to invent a good story.
"What was it like?"
Trinitite blinked. That was a little more… open ended then she expected, but she supposed that was fortunate. As Tirto scooped up another length of rebar and threaded it into the bender, the abyssal focused on remembering her home.
"It was… nice." Part of the Carrier wished she could think of a less… lame way to begin, but Trinitite wasn't sure how else to discuss her home. "The sun got a bit too much at times, but otherwise our island was…" The abyssal struggled to find an appropriate word, "Peaceful."
That was true most of the time, at least.
Tirto grunted in acknowledgement as he again threw his weight under the bender's lever.
"I don't know the Marshalls that well," the human started, flipping the rebar and feeding the other side of the length into the bender, "but what island were you on?"
Trinitite winced, glad her partner was busy measuring out where to situate the rebar length in the bender. This was probably the weakest part of her story.
"I don't remember." She lied. "Mother had the island to herself, and we never really left, so we just called it 'The Island.'"
"A private island?" Tirto asked. He'd been ready to pull the bender's lever again, but paused, giving Trinitite a surprised look. "What did your mother do?"
The human didn't seem incredulous, just surprised. She guessed that with so many humans, ones with their own islands before the war must have been rare, but since there apparently was a name for it, it couldn't have been that uncommon.
"I don't know." The Wo-class answered. "She never talked much about her past."
Trinitite wasn't sure if Tirto asked how Jellyfish had gotten the material to trade for the land, or how she'd managed to conquer it, but the vague answer should be good enough.
"Huh." Tirto replied, his eyes unfocusing as he thought over Trinitite's excuse. With a grunt, he abruptly turned to his work, bending the other end of the rebar length into shape.
"Your family…" He started, handing Trinitite her end of the rebar. He waited to finish the thought until she'd gotten her end secured to the pillar. "...are they alright?"
Trinitite froze, the image of Hypocenter's unseeing eyes replacing that of the level.
"...I'm sorry." Her partner spoke up, dispelling the image.
Letting out a breath, Trinitite shook her head, focusing back on her work.
"Down a bit." She started, shaking her head. "It's fine. My mother might still be alive, at least."
"Is this good?" Tirto asked, waving his head towards his end of the rebar. At Trinitite's nod, he started to tie it on.
This column finished, Trinitite stepped away, scooping up the rebar bender and tape measure before Trito could object. Tirto might indeed need that exercise, but unless Trinitite handled the hard work for the rest of the day, they weren't going to meet Austin's goal. There was no way she was going to fail her commander's expectations, no matter how optimistic they were. Initially, the pair made their way to the skeletal beginnings of the next column in silence, but after about a quarter of a minute Tirto spoke up again.
"It's almost worse when you don't know, isn't it?"
The Wo-class stopped, pondering Tirto's statement. One one hand, the knowledge that the rest of her fleet, from her dearest sisters to the most distant submarines had been sunk while she'd been spared by chance had been a weight in her mind ever since she left for the United States, but she'd always tried to distract herself from thinking about it. What was done was done, after all, and while she'd allowed herself some time to greve, often there were more important things to do.
On the other, she had no idea who exactly she was going to meet, once she finally found Saratoga. Throughout her mission so far, a part of her was always reminding her that all of this pain, effort, and risk might be for naught. What if this shipgirl that Jellyfish had become didn't remember anything, with Jellyfish being practically dead? What if she did remember Trinitite, but like her other colleagues in the Navy, hated her? What if, no matter what Trinitite said or did, the human's... conversion wasn't reversible? What if it was, but there was no hope a lone carrier with no support like herself could get to her?
Trinitite shook her head abruptly, trying to deal with the wetness gathering around her rangefinders without damaging her foundation.
"It is worse, Tirto."
"I can… relate." Tirto started, accepting Trinitite's level as she started with the rebar bender. "I have family on Java, if they're still alive."
"You do?" Trinitite asked, more surprise leaking into the voice then she'd intended. It was known that humans lurked in the jungles of many larger islands, but while Trinitite occasionally heard horror stories of groups jumping lone abyssals who'd strayed too far into the wilderness or watched them from just inside the treeline, it had never seemed like a major concern to Princesses she'd visited. There were rumors that the Central Princess was having serious problems with humans and a few ships in her island's jungle, but Jellyfish hadn't agreed to any missions to Central Princess's abode, so Trinitite never figured out how they'd posed any threat to the installation.
The closest she'd gotten to seeing one in person before her self-appointed mission was during that strange convoy into the African Port Princess's territory, where they'd been invited to a ceremony where some captured Humans would be 'released for judgement.' Normally curiosity would get the better of her, but by that point that installation's weirdness had disturbed her enough that Trinitite hadn't wanted to do anything more than stay in her temporary dorm while it transpired. Hypocenter had been the only abyssal from another fleet to take up the Installation on her offer, and her sister had refused to talk about what she'd seen once she returned.
"Huh." She continued, threading the first length into the bender. "Who are they?"
"Well…" Tirto answered, leaning on his knees. "There's my daughter, and my grandchildren."
Grandchildren? Something told Trinitite it would be better for her crew to transcribe the rest of this conversation, instead of just terms she didn't recognize.
"Oh." She acknowledged. As she dropped the lever on the bender, smoothly finishing a side of the rebar length, she added: "I hope they're okay."
To her surprise, Trinitite meant it. It was another stupid thing, but she hadn't really connected the humans she'd heard about lurking in the jungle with those she was working with now. They just… acted so differently then what she'd heard. Knowing one of her coworkers, the one that seemed the nicest so far, had some of their fleet still trapped in the warzone… Trinitite was conflicted. On one hand, hoping they were okay might have been considered a horrible betrayal by the princesses on Java, but what could a handful of humans do? Better for everyone if they managed to escape here, then force abyssals to waste munitions on them, right?
"That's all you can do, right?" Tirto said, watching Trinitite flip the length of rebar around and prepare the other end of the length. "I'm too old to fight, after all."
"I guess." Trinitite tempered, distracted by another thought. How had he managed to leave Java, anyways? Any human airfields on java had either been washed out by the rains or hosted only craters, and it wasn't like there was any human shipping in the area. "How'd you manage to get out?"
There was silence, as Trinitite finished bending the other end of the rebar length. Finished, she stood, getting a look at her coworker.
Tirto wasn't looking at her. He wasn't looking at anything, really. His exact thoughts were hidden to The Abyssal, the human's dark face was stiff, pained, she realized. Trinitite was a warship, created for the purpose of combat, but still she knew how terrible it could get when things weren't going your way. A human, with no obvious armament and much less strength, was never going to have a battle with abyssals 'going their way.' She hadn't paid much attention to how the abyssals before her time had secured their territory, but she couldn't have imagined it would have been pleasant for the humans who'd already been living there.
"Uh… sorry." She provided, although the words felt hollow.
"That's fine." He nodded, accepting his end of the length of rebar. "I'll tell you later, alright?"
"You don't have to." Trinitite replied, but Tirto shook his head.
"It helps, talking about it." He said, although he couldn't have been sincere. "Maybe after lunch."
"Alright." The abyssal relented, holding her end of the rebar in place while he started to secure his.
At least she wouldn't have to talk about her cover story anymore.
This was going to be half a chapter, but it ballooned to the point where it was large enough to be on its own. Just as well, the other half was going to be a lot more lighthearted and they probably wouldn't have fit well together.
I think I've said this before, but a unique challenge to this story is it rests heavily on pretty normal supporting characters, meaning I gotta put a lot more work into making them memorable. I can't be a good judge of how well I do until maybe a few years after I'm finished, but I'll do my best!
I think I've said this before, but a unique challenge to this story is it rests heavily on pretty normal supporting characters, meaning I gotta put a lot more work into making them memorable. I can't be a good judge of how well I do until maybe a few years after I'm finished, but I'll do my best!
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
For what its worth Tirto makes sense to me. Though by the end of the conversation his insistence that he can't just spend his days on the porch feels a lot sadder. I'm betting that was what he thought getting old would be like -- spoiling the grandkids and hanging out on his porch.
Also Trin's empathy getting a workout. It makes me wonder how she'd handle a conflict now? Doubt she would pull punches against the Navy or authorities, but I wonder if she'd be so quick to take hostages again.
Also Trin's empathy getting a workout. It makes me wonder how she'd handle a conflict now? Doubt she would pull punches against the Navy or authorities, but I wonder if she'd be so quick to take hostages again.
SilverShadows
Under autumn skies
- Location
- US
To be fair she never had any intention of taking hostages in the first place, or harming them at any point if they didn't force her to. She only took them hostage at all because she was under the impression humans didn't hurt each other under any circumstances and was hoping to use them to bluff her way to shore. And she was pretty troubled when the crew of the destroyer threatened to sink the Lily and she suddenly found herself "responsible for their lives".
She's been pretty consistently respectful of any non-food life that isn't currently attacking her. Even when she was ransacking the Fred Meyers she never actually threatened Elizabeth herself. Elizabeth just took Trinitite's existence as an inherent threat. And after only a short while actually interacting with her was seemingly more worried about what Trinitite would do to her store than to her.
So while she probably wouldn't take hostages again, it'd be more because she'd be under the impression it wouldn't work than a sudden new appreciation for human life. She already had that in a general sense.
What's happening with Tirto is she's suddenly found herself in a "fleet" together with humans. And combined with the understanding that individual humans can be part of multiple fleets simultaneously she's in a position of: "My new fleet mate has family who were/are being threatened by my kind, including possibly my own old fleet."
Trinitite's Hull Form
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Alright, so I just made my first earnest attempting at drawing something on my own in... years, I think, and figured I needed a bit of practice. Thus, here's a fairly simple image of Trinitite (her hull form, at least)
There's a lot of missing detail (caused half because my hand was cramping up and half because the main reference image was a little too blurry to use in some areas), especially near the aft, but I think it worked out well enough, especially for practice.
Now that I'm finished, I'm not 100% sold on the design I made (a white paint scheme, for example, only partially works IMO,) but I wasn't going to iterate on this a bunch, and it should give you a rough idea of what Trinitite's ship form looks like (Stripped of all aircraft, for some reason, and before the impromptu remodeling caused by an ESSM during the battle of Bikini, of course)
There's a lot of missing detail (caused half because my hand was cramping up and half because the main reference image was a little too blurry to use in some areas), especially near the aft, but I think it worked out well enough, especially for practice.
Now that I'm finished, I'm not 100% sold on the design I made (a white paint scheme, for example, only partially works IMO,) but I wasn't going to iterate on this a bunch, and it should give you a rough idea of what Trinitite's ship form looks like (Stripped of all aircraft, for some reason, and before the impromptu remodeling caused by an ESSM during the battle of Bikini, of course)
We Just Write
Blatantly Plural
- Location
- New England
- Pronouns
- Plural
C: Looks an awful lot like a Lexington class.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Well those teeth are horrifying, good job!
13th Bee
Worker
- Location
- Tennessee, USA.
Not enough stack for a Lexington. Seriously. Nowhere close.
Clearly Essex inspired, though missing the deck edge lift.
13th Bee
Worker
- Location
- Tennessee, USA.
*sighs* To be young and carefree again...
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Did you mean Yorktown class? Because I get those two names mixed up all the time.
Anyways, yeah, I can see that. The superstructure between the two is slightly different, but its difficult to tell superstructures apart (and I didn't do the best job making the superstructure on this one), so the biggest way to tell the difference (besides comparing their size) is their number of elevators, and Trinitite doesn't the proper number for the Essex-class, because the abyss will make things harder in every way possible.
Her collar doesn't have to allude to anything, but the idea of having her bow look like her collar in a very literal sense sounded nice.
13th fleet already answered this, but yeah. Essexes have three elevators, and Trinitite is missing one.
You could definitely say that Kancolle did a better job then Azure Lane in that department.
"Ah, the good old days, when I still had a family and things were simple."
Hecatonchires
Just an H-class cyborg with an octopus brain stem
- Location
- The Gong, NSW, Australia
It was extra storage. In a few weeks it'll be skee ball, air hockey, ball in the clowns mouth and shoot the can. With roving ice cream vendors. The crew call it "the promised land" and dream of it.
Annoyed Catholic - And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson...
Annoyed Catholic
Moody fellow
Author's Note: Hi folks, and here we have the latest . . .thing. Hope it pleases. Tried to edit it. Not totally happy with it but I tried!
And Here's to You Mrs. Robinson....
Two somewhat now tired men, of which the non-military member of the two, look down at the coffee that had been delivered from the on-base galley. Since that emergency conference had taken place during around 9 PM local time in Washington state (which of course meant it had been around 11 AM in Japan), meant that of course their superiors had flown into a tizzy over one G*d D*mn simple f*cking question. . . meant for a rather long and stressful night. A night of planning, strategizing, and also waiting for the core component of this latest (and rather desperate) scheme to arrive, which was proving to be emotionally and physically exhausting for a lot here. Simply said, there was a LOT now riding on this; as if there hadn't been before!!
Fieldwork still continued, but it didn't mean much for him! By asking one question, he'd gotten bumped up in importance (somehow) and was being actually included MUCH more in the planning part of things. When he much would rather be out and about doing things!! Smythe muttered something next time keeping his mouth shut before sighing, knowing it had been done. It had needed to have been done if THIS was how the other Feds had reacted, d*mn it to Hell!
Why hadn't any of the eggheads even . . .?!
No, the marshal reigned in his emotions and sighed. By NOW with the jet fighter option being utilized, it was coming up on the time for the shipgirl Saratoga to be arriving and the next phase can begin instead of most of everyone in the building just plotting and planning.
The regular coffee maker was out of service after somebody had broken it, so to make sure all got their needed caffeine fix, runners had been sent out.
Needing some air anyway and a bite to eat, he'd made a quick Starbucks run for himself and others. Sometimes gestures like that go a long way, and brother was it needed right now for frayed nerves. That aside, Janson Smythe had gotten the usual for another party in his little specialized part in this play. When she arrived from yet another less than successful lead, they'd try hashing out some kind of new strategy for their own little team.
In the meantime, Dan Murray had been kind enough to provide his own special brand of caffeine for the marshal. Yes, the marshal had gotten something before coming but figured that if he was going to keep this frantic pace up he'd better double down. That and it was just polite to accept.
That is until he took a sip of it! Coughing, he looked first at the coffee and then at Murray (who was glaring at his coffee).
"Really?!" Janson Smythe frowned, pouring out the toxic waste masquerading as coffee into the trash. "Not only does this Navy coffee taste horrible as advertised, but to add insult to injury ya'all are serving only decaffeinated? Thanks anyway, but I'll stick with my first choice."
As per usual, Smythe's Texas drawl grew a bit when roused up.
Meanwhile, Murray is giving the enlisted personnel--a young boy who looks barely old enough to shave if the marshal was any judge of things--the evil eye.
"Sir!" the poor sailor stutters. "This is what they handed over to me when I ran down to take the order, sir!"
"Go back and try again Seaman," the Navy official said in a tight, controlled voice.
A stuttered "sir!" is heard right before the young sailor goes scampering away to get the right order this time around.
Tempers had been running high after a long, stressful night caused by a fit of paranoia due to one question. That and something of a possible break given that though Trinitite had indeed used a burner phone to make that call, the FBI had been busy with getting the telephone company's data.
Now instead of a frenzy of almost lashing out blindly, tracking down even the thinnest of leads, it was an operation of tracking down locations. Locations like just where the call took place had been done about an hour ago, turning up pretty much nothing. Not even a scrap of plastic, which pretty much was what Smythe had feared would have been the result. Trin had apparently eaten the cellphone, leaving no traces. That or she had been even MORE skilled in hiding the burner phone after using it than even the veteran FBI agents had anticipated.
Would have been nice to at least had the confirmation of where the phone call had taken place beyond mere data for professional pride, but it was not to be.
For whatever reason, the efforts to track down the location data of where the blasted Abyssal had bought the cellphone was taking longer than expected. That was causing delays and making a long night LONGER.
Saratoga was landing sooner or later and the plan was to have her with them to try to perhaps track down Trinitite and make what would be a very stressful confrontation . . .less stressful.
Yes, "capture" was a valid option. However, if they could do a possibly less violent bringing the wayward Wo-class into custody with persuasion? That was much more appealing.
Now, it would be more appealing to have a possible lead on where to go, like that store that had been the place where the phone had been purchased in hand when Saratoga arrived. But . . .some things just couldn't be rushed, apparently.
Then again, if they could rush things to their supposed maximum then Saratoga would have been here already. Yes, fighter planes from Asia to America could in theory do it in three hours non-stop, but things like refueling (and wear and tear on the jet trying such a stunt) made that unfeasible.
"Ayep, I'll stick with my Starbucks 'foo foo' coffee," Smythe muttered, sipping his triple expresso and shaking his head after looking at his watch. "But how about you take the double expresso Mocca since it has caffeine and my deputy is late for whatever reason you might as well have it."
Shaking his head, he mentally made a note to stop doing that. It could almost seem like he was getting too "possessive" with the PI there. He was friendly with her but didn't "own" her. Best to tone it down. Avoid needless misunderstandings.
"I'm stepping outside to see if I can contact Ms. Harmon," Smythe continued. getting to the door. "The idea had been to get together in person to hash out some possible places in town on the slight chance somebody there might have recognized Trinitite buying the burner phone with cash, but looks like playing phone tag is the thing tonight."
Not what he'd call an elegant or efficient plan at tackling this, but the tech boys were having issues so might as well do it and pray to get lucky here. Beats just plotting and planning in a vacuum!
Murray nods, thanking the marshall for both the coffee and the effort. He's only starting at sipping his drink when he gets the word.
"What, the admiral from Japan is calling?" he mutters to himself as he heads over to a side office with secure telephone lines. "What could possibly be happening over there at this time now?"
He very soon learns just what is happening, indeed.
<******>
Meanwhile, outside in town at the local Walmart parking lot...
The car is still somewhat shaking on its shocks from the "nudge" that had been done to the car's being. While it had not been enough to cause the automobile to slam up against the car parked beside her, the private detective found suddenly the idea of trying to flee her car through the rear door she'd been next to impossible.
Trin probably put quite a dent in her car, though.
"I'll just be borrowing this for a moment," the human appearing entity before Katie Harmon says softly, taking the now unlocked cellphone from her right after having relieved the private detective of her revolver. "But thank you for not causing a needless scene there and getting into the back. I'd rather avoid violence near such a crowded store with your Navy allies, you know."
She gestures at the deputy badge/wallet holder she'd been stuck with and forced to wear on her breast pocket almost everywhere she'd needed to be during this investigation. Janson had been kind enough. Had believed in her skills when the other Federal buttheads wanted her gone. Still, Smythe had insisted, what with him being a stickler for protocol despite her objections.
While technically correct, she almost wanted to correct Trinitite about her being an "ally" to the Navy (and by extension motherf*cking Commander Dan Murray). But . . .
Now? She had just f*cked up mere moments ago, blanching and pulling at her gun when she'd spotted her abductor. Maybe had royally messed up having chosen to park further away from the Walmart's entrance than advisable at night, even. But the fast-food place's parking lot had been packed, but this part of the Walmart parking lot was available.
Now, this!
"So much for your F*cking situational awareness Katie!" she whispered viciously to herself.
She had just wanted to grab a bite to eat before going back to base to talk with the cowboy, d*mnit! H*ll, she had contacted one of the FBI drones ahead of time to confirm the lead about the Abyssal being spotted at Walmart was just Shangri La shopping for snacks!
As it turned out, that lead wasn't so false as advertised if the Abyssal in front of her was any indication. Sitting down quickly and low, Trinitite glances back through the rear window and sees that Shangri La had failed to notice her (for now).
Since she was here already and stuck until the Essex-class shipgirl left the area, Trinitite figured she might as well make the best of things. Not only would the phone be actually even more useful than the one she had just bought, but . . .having one of those who were allied with the Navy could be useful to ask a few questions.
Oh, the Wo-class thinks to herself as she starts nibbling on the detective's revolver. And besides a small snack would be rather nice.
High-quality steel and brass. Yum!
Wide-eyed (and not at all angered at having lost one of her more valued sidearms), the private eye blinks as her revolver quickly goes down the Abyssals throat.
"Ah . . .needing more iron in the diet?" Harmon chuckled nervously.
"Yes, you could say that!" smiled Trinitite slightly, seeing what the humor was in what the private investigator had just said. "Nothing like steel, the stuff that put plating between your ribs you know. Well, at least for Abyssals and I suppose shipgirls, anyway it does."
"Uh right," Harmon muttered before finally daring to ask it. "And what is . . .going to happen to me hereafter you use my phone?"
Making an aborted move to swipe at her face (probably to avoid smearing the makeup she'd been using to blend in with humanity), Trinitite instead sighs and looks tiredly at Harmon.
"I'll ask you a few questions," she explains. "With that and calling my mother here? I'm leaving. And I am VERY much suggesting you do not cause a problem for me by following or screaming."
The last was said with a low tone, followed up with a brief relighting of Trinitite's eyes. Blue and orange orbs drill into Katie Harmon's as if promising a rather messy end for such actions.
Trinitite wouldn't actually intentionally bring harm to Katie, but she'd done that to remind her what she was facing. That and how violent shipgirl/Abyssal battles could be (even on land). Wouldn't want the PI or innocent humans to get caught in the proximity, right?
And of course, that is when the cellphone begins to ring, which caused the Abyssal to mutter a slight curse before hitting the decline icon on Katie's phone and the PI blinking a bit. She'd known that Trinitite had made an international phone call with a burner phone, but Trin seemed to be showing all sorts of tech-savvy here.
That floozy Nashville was still all fumbles with her smartphone, and here this Abyssal is showing a LOT more tech-savviness. No wonder they'd been having all sorts of problems with catching Trinitite. Much more on the ball tech-wise than that floozy. Must be the desperation to get back to Saratoga that was fueling the rise in skills, even IF exceeding Nashville was a low bar to clear.
. . .
Yes, Katie Harmon was bitter over her apologies to Nashville had been rebuffed. Thank you for asking.
Dialing the number, Katie couldn't fail but notice something.
No, it wasn't that Trinitite had been using her phone instead of yet another burner phone. Cheeky as that was, it made a bit of sense. It saved any burner phone the Abyssal had bought for later use and was using the assets of her enemy against them. Ironic. And maybe confusing enough for long enough for anyone trying to wiretap/trace the call for Trinitite to get away scot-free.
No, instead it was something simpler here.
"What?" the PI blinks. "Not trying to dial Japan again? Thanks for not running up my minutes like that but where'd you'd get your Mom's number? Surely not how'd you had gotten the Japanese bases number, right?"
"Shimikaze--the Destroyer was the secretary who answered the phone--provided it in case we got cut off," the Abyssal supplied, finishing up dialing the number. "Friendly shipgirl, that one!"
"Oh," blinked Katie. That was just a bit surreal. "Of course they did that with just some stranger calling out of the blue for Saratoga. Why not?"
Trinitite frowned a little bit in sadness, ignoring the PI's befuddlement. If it hadn't been for the whole trying to kill each other out on the oceans before her princess had been abducted, she could have easily seen her and that destroyer being easy friends. Shame that!
Real d*mn shame.
<******>
Back on base
"Oh my God!" a certain aircraft carrier groaned, still somewhat woozy from a non-stop flight across the Pacific in less than stellar seating. "Is this what it feels like to be airsick?"
Shipgirls of Saratoga's type, as well as other aircraft carrier shipgirls were not known for getting airsick, usually. What Saratoga had gone through was hardly normal.
Well, at least she was finally OUT of that damn jet fight and back on the ground! Though the rushed Humvee right to this spot right from the landing strip hadn't added anything good to her rolling stomach.
"Okay, follow me and . . .," the young FBI agent (Penelton? Penderson? Wenderson?) said, directing the airsick shipgirl up the steps and past some angrily muttering man with an accent that sounded something like from Texas if Saratoga would take a guess.
Wait! That was the man who'd indirectly gotten her permission to GET here! How'd she not recognize US Marshal Smythe right off the bat?
As worried as she was about actually meeting her wayward Wo-class daughter (she was NOT going back Abyssal!!), she at least owed the man for making it possible for her to find Trinitite!
Now if only it hadn't involved that plane ride from Hell!!
"Deputy, why aren't you answering?" she heard him muttering before he jumped a little bit in surprise when making her presence.
"You're here!" Smythe blinks before putting his phone away and reaching out a hand to the shipgirl for a handshake. "I uh. . . .glad to see you! Hope the trip wasn't too bad?"
"It was but let's not mention . . .," Saratoga begins, shaking the man's hand only to pause when her cellphone begins ringing. Dropping Smythe's hand, she instead pulls out her smartphone.
It wasn't a number she recognized, but one that Smythe could not fail to notice. After all, it was only just a moment ago he had been trying to call that very number!
"Okay," Smythe asked himself, at a loss. "Just why is my deputy trying to contact Saratoga? What's she trying here?"
"Uh hello?" the red-headed shipgirl known as Saratoga answered her phone, putting it on speaker after glancing at Smythe. She didn't know who this deputy was, but it might be important towards finding her daughter, maybe? "USS Saratoga speaking. Who may I say is calling?"
"Mother!" a young female voice says from the other end, somebody that Janson Smythe knew was NOT Katie Harmon, but instead was the entity they'd been VERY much interested in capturing (or otherwise bringing into custody). "It's me again! I said I would call back when I could."
"Trinitite," Smythe said, interrupting whatever the Abyssal Wo OR Saratoga had been about to say. "Why are you using my deputy's cellphone? What have you done with her? Where is she?!"
The last was said at almost a shout.
"Cowboy?" a somewhat subdued Katie Harmon calls over the phone after a beep that signified that Trinitite had put her side on speakerphone so all could participate. "I'm . . .alright right now. Ah, and I found Mrs. Robinson but . . .she found me?"
"Yes," Trinitite adds after a second of silence. "And she'll be okay for now as well, for now. I'm just using her cellphone to speak with my mother. So after you explain what this Mrs. Robinson business is with me, whoever in the Deep you happen to be 'Cowboy', you can kindly put her back on the phone!"
"I'm still here Trin," Saratoga says, worry in her voice. "I didn't leave and Mr. Smythe did not take the phone from me. We're on speakerphone."
"Heh heh," Katie Harmon laughs nervously. "That's good. So we're all talking in a group! But as for Misses Robinson, that's part of a Beatles song where one line goes 'Wo wo wo'. Your codename."
"Ah deputy . . .you're not supposed to share that secret squirrel sh*t over the telephone?" the US marshal sighed in a somewhat put upon voice, but knowing that at this point Katie might be under a little stress so it was something that could be overlooked, right? Gesturing towards the door for everyone. "But let's ALL just . . .get inside so we can . . ."
Of course, somebody had to interrupt and what was meant as interrupt was Commander Murray coming out of the said door in a rush.
God, that had been a phone call that had been both lessened and increased his stress levels.
Good news? Well, according to the Japanese Admiral who'd called Murray there had been an accidental summoning back in Japan at the base Saratoga had been training the Japanese aircraft carriers. Current theory from some local scientist that only God knows where they'd dug him up had suggested that Saratoga had passed too close to the Summoning pool. Probably happened right after that stressful phonecall, and it had reached out into the limbo of where ever Trinitite's dead sisters had dwelled and called them back, albeit as shipgirls who were Essex-class aircraft carriers with decidedly Wo-class touches to the mix!!
They were cooperative for now, but not for much longer unless Saratoga got on the horn here, Admiral or no Admiral. They wanted answers. They wanted their mother.
Seemed to be a running theme here.
The same researcher, a Dr. Takahashi (but might as well be called Dr. Insano from the way he came off to Murray), had been able to conduct some basic, preliminary tests.
Well, turns out they remembered their names. They remember basic things from their earlier lives, but it was very scrambled and fuzzy. And they'd STAY that way permanently for the most part. For the most part! Any attempt by an Abyssal to use what a one-time re-summoned (more about that in a moment) Trinitite to infiltrate humanity would have a VERY bad time of it. That was good! That is unless by some chance a plucky an eccentric Abyssal Princess should utilize a Deep Hypnosis technique (swinging gold watch and all that new age bullsh*t in Murray's opinion) to unlock those memories. Of all their faults, at least the Abyssal Princesses didn't practice that . . .drivel.
...
Which was turning out to not be drivel after all. God, why?
Oh yeah, the good doctor had performed that on both Hypocenter and Firestorm near the end. NOW, they remember everything, and isn't THAT something of a headache for the Kanmusu of the Japanese base.
Oh, they are still open to being folded into the Kanmusu ranks. But they DO remember those who'd attack their Abyssal home, and there was still a lot of bad feelings about it!
They wanted to talk with their mother about it, honestly. To help them make final decisions like who exactly to swear allegiance. It might be with the US since Saratoga had (but wanted her inputs about just why she had done that, considering the betrayal they'd done their mother with "the fire"). That and they had been somewhat put off by that DARPA official who'd contacted them. It might be with the Japanese. It might even be with the Canadians. That one admiral had been MOST eager for their service.
Seems that the doctor noted that there were some personal skills that carried over from past lifetimes. For an Abyssal aircraft carrier, that meant that while their crew of fairies had to retrain from scratch, the Abyssals themselves had remembered things about how to teach those skills. Meaning a quicker turn around in getting their fairies up to something approaching sufficient for their needs. Not great, but could be a concern in later years when/if the Abyssal aircraft become ace teachers and such, pushing up their threat levels by default.
In the case of other fodder Abyssals? Well, that was up in the air, but it was worrisome to the doctor. And the doctor had made enough of a point to worry the Japanese admiral with those findings and theories.
Oh, and let us not forget two other things the good Dr. Insa . . .Dr. Takahashi mentioned.
First, he wanted to speak to US Marshal Janson Smythe. He wished to thank him for having inadvertently causing somebody in power to finally take him seriously with his "perfectly scientifically sound" theories about Abyssal. Though he added he'd had never spoken to Smythe so was dead on curious to discover how he'd learned of Takahashi's theorems.
Second, he wished to somehow arrange for Saratoga to be present for an experiment he wished to conduct. Something about wanting to replicate the accidental summoning so that it would bolster humanity's forces with more ship girls while depriving Abyssals of said same ship girls/fodder Abyssals.
Not totally an insane idea, considering that Trinitite showed that "fodder" Abyssals weren't mere drones. The question comes up about how practical that was, though. Just because the last batch of Kanmusu-ized Abyssals is still perfectly loyal to Saratoga (and thus friendly with humanity by default) did not mean that the next time around would produce the same good results.
Murray had said as much (much to the scorn of Dr. Takashi who "knew better") but had added that perhaps he should utilize the former Abyssal Crane Princess for those tests. Zuikaku was back that way. Was available for the doctor's use. And Zuikaku was read into the program (as it were), so wouldn't leak details to the wrong ears. Besides, Saratoga was under enough stress as it was. No need to add to it by using her as a lab rat for testing purposes. She needed a break!
Hell, he needed a long break after all this if he didn't get court-martialed or just thrown out of the Navy for this debacle!
"Oh thank God!" Murray muttered upon seeing Saratoga, not thinking about just why everyone was hanging around her while she was on the phone.
He really should have wondered why.
"Hey! Everyone inside!" he says in a rush. "We got something to brief about concerning Misses Robinson's lost sisters! They . . . we found that they aren't lost anymore. The 'firecracker' of the two is almost beside herself demanding to see her mother here and are on the teleconference right now.
"They showed up at the 'special' pool back in Japan and . . .oh fuck," he finally notices the wide-eyed and frantically gesturing Smythe pointing at Saratoga's phone. "So uh. . .that is the person that Saratoga got a phone call earlier, eh?"
He winces, glad he hadn't accidentally said too much for Trinitite to give up the game. And everyone ELSE had been pretty much briefed about giving away the game to outsiders. Pretty much did that down to the bedrock, as it were.
Oh, he'd play that card if he had to in order to bring Trinitite into the fold. But not yet and only if he needed to here.
But it was an option that could be used and his superiors would be fine with it (as long as it got results that is it should be said).
That and he was going to tell Saratoga about his latest development. He WAS, really. It was just he wanted to do it in a tactful and gentle manner. Poor shipgirl was under enough stress as it was, you know.
But, too bad that wasn't to be. You do recall what Katie did there earlier, right?
Well, the good thing here is that the PI probably won't make any friends with that slip. But she had only tipped Murray's hand early. Meaning that Harmon did security "boo boo" a moments ago, Murray might just be the thing to help her avoid possible jail time?
Still, in all fairness what could Katie have done under the gun like that? It is not like she could have come up with a good LIE on the spot that was both believable and good enough that the others on the phone would be able to play along with her. Somehow, she doubts that she could have managed to pull the wool over Trinitite's eyes here. She'd have been naive at times, but at other times been too cagey. So...the truth. Which might get her in hot water. Might not.
"What?!" It only took seconds for two aircraft carriers (one Abyssal and one shipgirl) to connect the dots.
And Here's to You Mrs. Robinson....
Two somewhat now tired men, of which the non-military member of the two, look down at the coffee that had been delivered from the on-base galley. Since that emergency conference had taken place during around 9 PM local time in Washington state (which of course meant it had been around 11 AM in Japan), meant that of course their superiors had flown into a tizzy over one G*d D*mn simple f*cking question. . . meant for a rather long and stressful night. A night of planning, strategizing, and also waiting for the core component of this latest (and rather desperate) scheme to arrive, which was proving to be emotionally and physically exhausting for a lot here. Simply said, there was a LOT now riding on this; as if there hadn't been before!!
Fieldwork still continued, but it didn't mean much for him! By asking one question, he'd gotten bumped up in importance (somehow) and was being actually included MUCH more in the planning part of things. When he much would rather be out and about doing things!! Smythe muttered something next time keeping his mouth shut before sighing, knowing it had been done. It had needed to have been done if THIS was how the other Feds had reacted, d*mn it to Hell!
Why hadn't any of the eggheads even . . .?!
No, the marshal reigned in his emotions and sighed. By NOW with the jet fighter option being utilized, it was coming up on the time for the shipgirl Saratoga to be arriving and the next phase can begin instead of most of everyone in the building just plotting and planning.
The regular coffee maker was out of service after somebody had broken it, so to make sure all got their needed caffeine fix, runners had been sent out.
Needing some air anyway and a bite to eat, he'd made a quick Starbucks run for himself and others. Sometimes gestures like that go a long way, and brother was it needed right now for frayed nerves. That aside, Janson Smythe had gotten the usual for another party in his little specialized part in this play. When she arrived from yet another less than successful lead, they'd try hashing out some kind of new strategy for their own little team.
In the meantime, Dan Murray had been kind enough to provide his own special brand of caffeine for the marshal. Yes, the marshal had gotten something before coming but figured that if he was going to keep this frantic pace up he'd better double down. That and it was just polite to accept.
That is until he took a sip of it! Coughing, he looked first at the coffee and then at Murray (who was glaring at his coffee).
"Really?!" Janson Smythe frowned, pouring out the toxic waste masquerading as coffee into the trash. "Not only does this Navy coffee taste horrible as advertised, but to add insult to injury ya'all are serving only decaffeinated? Thanks anyway, but I'll stick with my first choice."
As per usual, Smythe's Texas drawl grew a bit when roused up.
Meanwhile, Murray is giving the enlisted personnel--a young boy who looks barely old enough to shave if the marshal was any judge of things--the evil eye.
"Sir!" the poor sailor stutters. "This is what they handed over to me when I ran down to take the order, sir!"
"Go back and try again Seaman," the Navy official said in a tight, controlled voice.
A stuttered "sir!" is heard right before the young sailor goes scampering away to get the right order this time around.
Tempers had been running high after a long, stressful night caused by a fit of paranoia due to one question. That and something of a possible break given that though Trinitite had indeed used a burner phone to make that call, the FBI had been busy with getting the telephone company's data.
Now instead of a frenzy of almost lashing out blindly, tracking down even the thinnest of leads, it was an operation of tracking down locations. Locations like just where the call took place had been done about an hour ago, turning up pretty much nothing. Not even a scrap of plastic, which pretty much was what Smythe had feared would have been the result. Trin had apparently eaten the cellphone, leaving no traces. That or she had been even MORE skilled in hiding the burner phone after using it than even the veteran FBI agents had anticipated.
Would have been nice to at least had the confirmation of where the phone call had taken place beyond mere data for professional pride, but it was not to be.
For whatever reason, the efforts to track down the location data of where the blasted Abyssal had bought the cellphone was taking longer than expected. That was causing delays and making a long night LONGER.
Saratoga was landing sooner or later and the plan was to have her with them to try to perhaps track down Trinitite and make what would be a very stressful confrontation . . .less stressful.
Yes, "capture" was a valid option. However, if they could do a possibly less violent bringing the wayward Wo-class into custody with persuasion? That was much more appealing.
Now, it would be more appealing to have a possible lead on where to go, like that store that had been the place where the phone had been purchased in hand when Saratoga arrived. But . . .some things just couldn't be rushed, apparently.
Then again, if they could rush things to their supposed maximum then Saratoga would have been here already. Yes, fighter planes from Asia to America could in theory do it in three hours non-stop, but things like refueling (and wear and tear on the jet trying such a stunt) made that unfeasible.
"Ayep, I'll stick with my Starbucks 'foo foo' coffee," Smythe muttered, sipping his triple expresso and shaking his head after looking at his watch. "But how about you take the double expresso Mocca since it has caffeine and my deputy is late for whatever reason you might as well have it."
Shaking his head, he mentally made a note to stop doing that. It could almost seem like he was getting too "possessive" with the PI there. He was friendly with her but didn't "own" her. Best to tone it down. Avoid needless misunderstandings.
"I'm stepping outside to see if I can contact Ms. Harmon," Smythe continued. getting to the door. "The idea had been to get together in person to hash out some possible places in town on the slight chance somebody there might have recognized Trinitite buying the burner phone with cash, but looks like playing phone tag is the thing tonight."
Not what he'd call an elegant or efficient plan at tackling this, but the tech boys were having issues so might as well do it and pray to get lucky here. Beats just plotting and planning in a vacuum!
Murray nods, thanking the marshall for both the coffee and the effort. He's only starting at sipping his drink when he gets the word.
"What, the admiral from Japan is calling?" he mutters to himself as he heads over to a side office with secure telephone lines. "What could possibly be happening over there at this time now?"
He very soon learns just what is happening, indeed.
<******>
Meanwhile, outside in town at the local Walmart parking lot...
The car is still somewhat shaking on its shocks from the "nudge" that had been done to the car's being. While it had not been enough to cause the automobile to slam up against the car parked beside her, the private detective found suddenly the idea of trying to flee her car through the rear door she'd been next to impossible.
Trin probably put quite a dent in her car, though.
"I'll just be borrowing this for a moment," the human appearing entity before Katie Harmon says softly, taking the now unlocked cellphone from her right after having relieved the private detective of her revolver. "But thank you for not causing a needless scene there and getting into the back. I'd rather avoid violence near such a crowded store with your Navy allies, you know."
She gestures at the deputy badge/wallet holder she'd been stuck with and forced to wear on her breast pocket almost everywhere she'd needed to be during this investigation. Janson had been kind enough. Had believed in her skills when the other Federal buttheads wanted her gone. Still, Smythe had insisted, what with him being a stickler for protocol despite her objections.
While technically correct, she almost wanted to correct Trinitite about her being an "ally" to the Navy (and by extension motherf*cking Commander Dan Murray). But . . .
Now? She had just f*cked up mere moments ago, blanching and pulling at her gun when she'd spotted her abductor. Maybe had royally messed up having chosen to park further away from the Walmart's entrance than advisable at night, even. But the fast-food place's parking lot had been packed, but this part of the Walmart parking lot was available.
Now, this!
"So much for your F*cking situational awareness Katie!" she whispered viciously to herself.
She had just wanted to grab a bite to eat before going back to base to talk with the cowboy, d*mnit! H*ll, she had contacted one of the FBI drones ahead of time to confirm the lead about the Abyssal being spotted at Walmart was just Shangri La shopping for snacks!
As it turned out, that lead wasn't so false as advertised if the Abyssal in front of her was any indication. Sitting down quickly and low, Trinitite glances back through the rear window and sees that Shangri La had failed to notice her (for now).
Since she was here already and stuck until the Essex-class shipgirl left the area, Trinitite figured she might as well make the best of things. Not only would the phone be actually even more useful than the one she had just bought, but . . .having one of those who were allied with the Navy could be useful to ask a few questions.
Oh, the Wo-class thinks to herself as she starts nibbling on the detective's revolver. And besides a small snack would be rather nice.
High-quality steel and brass. Yum!
Wide-eyed (and not at all angered at having lost one of her more valued sidearms), the private eye blinks as her revolver quickly goes down the Abyssals throat.
"Ah . . .needing more iron in the diet?" Harmon chuckled nervously.
"Yes, you could say that!" smiled Trinitite slightly, seeing what the humor was in what the private investigator had just said. "Nothing like steel, the stuff that put plating between your ribs you know. Well, at least for Abyssals and I suppose shipgirls, anyway it does."
"Uh right," Harmon muttered before finally daring to ask it. "And what is . . .going to happen to me hereafter you use my phone?"
Making an aborted move to swipe at her face (probably to avoid smearing the makeup she'd been using to blend in with humanity), Trinitite instead sighs and looks tiredly at Harmon.
"I'll ask you a few questions," she explains. "With that and calling my mother here? I'm leaving. And I am VERY much suggesting you do not cause a problem for me by following or screaming."
The last was said with a low tone, followed up with a brief relighting of Trinitite's eyes. Blue and orange orbs drill into Katie Harmon's as if promising a rather messy end for such actions.
Trinitite wouldn't actually intentionally bring harm to Katie, but she'd done that to remind her what she was facing. That and how violent shipgirl/Abyssal battles could be (even on land). Wouldn't want the PI or innocent humans to get caught in the proximity, right?
And of course, that is when the cellphone begins to ring, which caused the Abyssal to mutter a slight curse before hitting the decline icon on Katie's phone and the PI blinking a bit. She'd known that Trinitite had made an international phone call with a burner phone, but Trin seemed to be showing all sorts of tech-savvy here.
That floozy Nashville was still all fumbles with her smartphone, and here this Abyssal is showing a LOT more tech-savviness. No wonder they'd been having all sorts of problems with catching Trinitite. Much more on the ball tech-wise than that floozy. Must be the desperation to get back to Saratoga that was fueling the rise in skills, even IF exceeding Nashville was a low bar to clear.
. . .
Yes, Katie Harmon was bitter over her apologies to Nashville had been rebuffed. Thank you for asking.
Dialing the number, Katie couldn't fail but notice something.
No, it wasn't that Trinitite had been using her phone instead of yet another burner phone. Cheeky as that was, it made a bit of sense. It saved any burner phone the Abyssal had bought for later use and was using the assets of her enemy against them. Ironic. And maybe confusing enough for long enough for anyone trying to wiretap/trace the call for Trinitite to get away scot-free.
No, instead it was something simpler here.
"What?" the PI blinks. "Not trying to dial Japan again? Thanks for not running up my minutes like that but where'd you'd get your Mom's number? Surely not how'd you had gotten the Japanese bases number, right?"
"Shimikaze--the Destroyer was the secretary who answered the phone--provided it in case we got cut off," the Abyssal supplied, finishing up dialing the number. "Friendly shipgirl, that one!"
"Oh," blinked Katie. That was just a bit surreal. "Of course they did that with just some stranger calling out of the blue for Saratoga. Why not?"
Trinitite frowned a little bit in sadness, ignoring the PI's befuddlement. If it hadn't been for the whole trying to kill each other out on the oceans before her princess had been abducted, she could have easily seen her and that destroyer being easy friends. Shame that!
Real d*mn shame.
<******>
Back on base
"Oh my God!" a certain aircraft carrier groaned, still somewhat woozy from a non-stop flight across the Pacific in less than stellar seating. "Is this what it feels like to be airsick?"
Shipgirls of Saratoga's type, as well as other aircraft carrier shipgirls were not known for getting airsick, usually. What Saratoga had gone through was hardly normal.
Well, at least she was finally OUT of that damn jet fight and back on the ground! Though the rushed Humvee right to this spot right from the landing strip hadn't added anything good to her rolling stomach.
"Okay, follow me and . . .," the young FBI agent (Penelton? Penderson? Wenderson?) said, directing the airsick shipgirl up the steps and past some angrily muttering man with an accent that sounded something like from Texas if Saratoga would take a guess.
Wait! That was the man who'd indirectly gotten her permission to GET here! How'd she not recognize US Marshal Smythe right off the bat?
As worried as she was about actually meeting her wayward Wo-class daughter (she was NOT going back Abyssal!!), she at least owed the man for making it possible for her to find Trinitite!
Now if only it hadn't involved that plane ride from Hell!!
"Deputy, why aren't you answering?" she heard him muttering before he jumped a little bit in surprise when making her presence.
"You're here!" Smythe blinks before putting his phone away and reaching out a hand to the shipgirl for a handshake. "I uh. . . .glad to see you! Hope the trip wasn't too bad?"
"It was but let's not mention . . .," Saratoga begins, shaking the man's hand only to pause when her cellphone begins ringing. Dropping Smythe's hand, she instead pulls out her smartphone.
It wasn't a number she recognized, but one that Smythe could not fail to notice. After all, it was only just a moment ago he had been trying to call that very number!
"Okay," Smythe asked himself, at a loss. "Just why is my deputy trying to contact Saratoga? What's she trying here?"
"Uh hello?" the red-headed shipgirl known as Saratoga answered her phone, putting it on speaker after glancing at Smythe. She didn't know who this deputy was, but it might be important towards finding her daughter, maybe? "USS Saratoga speaking. Who may I say is calling?"
"Mother!" a young female voice says from the other end, somebody that Janson Smythe knew was NOT Katie Harmon, but instead was the entity they'd been VERY much interested in capturing (or otherwise bringing into custody). "It's me again! I said I would call back when I could."
"Trinitite," Smythe said, interrupting whatever the Abyssal Wo OR Saratoga had been about to say. "Why are you using my deputy's cellphone? What have you done with her? Where is she?!"
The last was said at almost a shout.
"Cowboy?" a somewhat subdued Katie Harmon calls over the phone after a beep that signified that Trinitite had put her side on speakerphone so all could participate. "I'm . . .alright right now. Ah, and I found Mrs. Robinson but . . .she found me?"
"Yes," Trinitite adds after a second of silence. "And she'll be okay for now as well, for now. I'm just using her cellphone to speak with my mother. So after you explain what this Mrs. Robinson business is with me, whoever in the Deep you happen to be 'Cowboy', you can kindly put her back on the phone!"
"I'm still here Trin," Saratoga says, worry in her voice. "I didn't leave and Mr. Smythe did not take the phone from me. We're on speakerphone."
"Heh heh," Katie Harmon laughs nervously. "That's good. So we're all talking in a group! But as for Misses Robinson, that's part of a Beatles song where one line goes 'Wo wo wo'. Your codename."
"Ah deputy . . .you're not supposed to share that secret squirrel sh*t over the telephone?" the US marshal sighed in a somewhat put upon voice, but knowing that at this point Katie might be under a little stress so it was something that could be overlooked, right? Gesturing towards the door for everyone. "But let's ALL just . . .get inside so we can . . ."
Of course, somebody had to interrupt and what was meant as interrupt was Commander Murray coming out of the said door in a rush.
God, that had been a phone call that had been both lessened and increased his stress levels.
Good news? Well, according to the Japanese Admiral who'd called Murray there had been an accidental summoning back in Japan at the base Saratoga had been training the Japanese aircraft carriers. Current theory from some local scientist that only God knows where they'd dug him up had suggested that Saratoga had passed too close to the Summoning pool. Probably happened right after that stressful phonecall, and it had reached out into the limbo of where ever Trinitite's dead sisters had dwelled and called them back, albeit as shipgirls who were Essex-class aircraft carriers with decidedly Wo-class touches to the mix!!
They were cooperative for now, but not for much longer unless Saratoga got on the horn here, Admiral or no Admiral. They wanted answers. They wanted their mother.
Seemed to be a running theme here.
The same researcher, a Dr. Takahashi (but might as well be called Dr. Insano from the way he came off to Murray), had been able to conduct some basic, preliminary tests.
Well, turns out they remembered their names. They remember basic things from their earlier lives, but it was very scrambled and fuzzy. And they'd STAY that way permanently for the most part. For the most part! Any attempt by an Abyssal to use what a one-time re-summoned (more about that in a moment) Trinitite to infiltrate humanity would have a VERY bad time of it. That was good! That is unless by some chance a plucky an eccentric Abyssal Princess should utilize a Deep Hypnosis technique (swinging gold watch and all that new age bullsh*t in Murray's opinion) to unlock those memories. Of all their faults, at least the Abyssal Princesses didn't practice that . . .drivel.
...
Which was turning out to not be drivel after all. God, why?
Oh yeah, the good doctor had performed that on both Hypocenter and Firestorm near the end. NOW, they remember everything, and isn't THAT something of a headache for the Kanmusu of the Japanese base.
Oh, they are still open to being folded into the Kanmusu ranks. But they DO remember those who'd attack their Abyssal home, and there was still a lot of bad feelings about it!
They wanted to talk with their mother about it, honestly. To help them make final decisions like who exactly to swear allegiance. It might be with the US since Saratoga had (but wanted her inputs about just why she had done that, considering the betrayal they'd done their mother with "the fire"). That and they had been somewhat put off by that DARPA official who'd contacted them. It might be with the Japanese. It might even be with the Canadians. That one admiral had been MOST eager for their service.
Seems that the doctor noted that there were some personal skills that carried over from past lifetimes. For an Abyssal aircraft carrier, that meant that while their crew of fairies had to retrain from scratch, the Abyssals themselves had remembered things about how to teach those skills. Meaning a quicker turn around in getting their fairies up to something approaching sufficient for their needs. Not great, but could be a concern in later years when/if the Abyssal aircraft become ace teachers and such, pushing up their threat levels by default.
In the case of other fodder Abyssals? Well, that was up in the air, but it was worrisome to the doctor. And the doctor had made enough of a point to worry the Japanese admiral with those findings and theories.
Oh, and let us not forget two other things the good Dr. Insa . . .Dr. Takahashi mentioned.
First, he wanted to speak to US Marshal Janson Smythe. He wished to thank him for having inadvertently causing somebody in power to finally take him seriously with his "perfectly scientifically sound" theories about Abyssal. Though he added he'd had never spoken to Smythe so was dead on curious to discover how he'd learned of Takahashi's theorems.
Second, he wished to somehow arrange for Saratoga to be present for an experiment he wished to conduct. Something about wanting to replicate the accidental summoning so that it would bolster humanity's forces with more ship girls while depriving Abyssals of said same ship girls/fodder Abyssals.
Not totally an insane idea, considering that Trinitite showed that "fodder" Abyssals weren't mere drones. The question comes up about how practical that was, though. Just because the last batch of Kanmusu-ized Abyssals is still perfectly loyal to Saratoga (and thus friendly with humanity by default) did not mean that the next time around would produce the same good results.
Murray had said as much (much to the scorn of Dr. Takashi who "knew better") but had added that perhaps he should utilize the former Abyssal Crane Princess for those tests. Zuikaku was back that way. Was available for the doctor's use. And Zuikaku was read into the program (as it were), so wouldn't leak details to the wrong ears. Besides, Saratoga was under enough stress as it was. No need to add to it by using her as a lab rat for testing purposes. She needed a break!
Hell, he needed a long break after all this if he didn't get court-martialed or just thrown out of the Navy for this debacle!
"Oh thank God!" Murray muttered upon seeing Saratoga, not thinking about just why everyone was hanging around her while she was on the phone.
He really should have wondered why.
"Hey! Everyone inside!" he says in a rush. "We got something to brief about concerning Misses Robinson's lost sisters! They . . . we found that they aren't lost anymore. The 'firecracker' of the two is almost beside herself demanding to see her mother here and are on the teleconference right now.
"They showed up at the 'special' pool back in Japan and . . .oh fuck," he finally notices the wide-eyed and frantically gesturing Smythe pointing at Saratoga's phone. "So uh. . .that is the person that Saratoga got a phone call earlier, eh?"
He winces, glad he hadn't accidentally said too much for Trinitite to give up the game. And everyone ELSE had been pretty much briefed about giving away the game to outsiders. Pretty much did that down to the bedrock, as it were.
Oh, he'd play that card if he had to in order to bring Trinitite into the fold. But not yet and only if he needed to here.
But it was an option that could be used and his superiors would be fine with it (as long as it got results that is it should be said).
That and he was going to tell Saratoga about his latest development. He WAS, really. It was just he wanted to do it in a tactful and gentle manner. Poor shipgirl was under enough stress as it was, you know.
But, too bad that wasn't to be. You do recall what Katie did there earlier, right?
Well, the good thing here is that the PI probably won't make any friends with that slip. But she had only tipped Murray's hand early. Meaning that Harmon did security "boo boo" a moments ago, Murray might just be the thing to help her avoid possible jail time?
Still, in all fairness what could Katie have done under the gun like that? It is not like she could have come up with a good LIE on the spot that was both believable and good enough that the others on the phone would be able to play along with her. Somehow, she doubts that she could have managed to pull the wool over Trinitite's eyes here. She'd have been naive at times, but at other times been too cagey. So...the truth. Which might get her in hot water. Might not.
"What?!" It only took seconds for two aircraft carriers (one Abyssal and one shipgirl) to connect the dots.
Last edited:
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
Hooray, another omake! Hope you don't mind a little critique:
Anyways, it's a little heavy on exposition, but otherwise I really enjoyed it. Hoping for Wo Wo, Nippon: Hypocenter and Firestorm's adventures in Japan?
It 'was' out of service.
Seems like a bit of a formatting issue. Don't remember if it's because SV uses [ instead of < or if its because of a capitalization issue.
Anyways, it's a little heavy on exposition, but otherwise I really enjoyed it. Hoping for Wo Wo, Nippon: Hypocenter and Firestorm's adventures in Japan?
Annoyed Catholic
Moody fellow
Glad you pointed out the errors. They are fixed now.
Oh, and as for Wo Wo, Nippon: Hypocenter and Firestorm's adventures in Japan? I do hope to do *something* in that vein sooner or later. We will see.
Annoyed Catholic: You Can't Go Home Again (Part 1)...
Annoyed Catholic
Moody fellow
You Can't Go Home Again (Part 1)...
Author's Note: Okay, perhaps a bit much with Saratoga going all "Momboat" over her daughter here? Well, what is found on the wiki about Saratoga puts her as having an "onee-san" personality with her fleet-mates. How much more would she be caring (and even loving) with her children, the Essex-class? With her Wo-class daughters? Eventually, I think it would be this way.
Special thanks to PyrrhicSteel for his notes about Firestorm and Hypocenter.
Oh, and again tried to edit this beforehand, so...
With FBI Agent Charles Bryce
"EVERYONE INSIDE RIGHT NOW!!" somebody bellows from outside the conference room, causing everyone else to stop whatever they are doing (in some cases the "doing" was something akin to "bickering") and instead stare at the door to outside.
Some more discussion could be heard from the other side of the door, but because of the door's thickness, it was unintelligible.
"Was that the Cowboy?" one of Agent Bryce's coworkers from the FBI blinked. "Boy! At a guess I believe he's finally gotten tired of Super Karen the PI?"
Agent Bryce--not the biggest fan of that somewhat narcissistic private investigator himself--still gave a less than playful swat to the coworker's shoulder and gives a stern look to the FBI coworker woman in question. US Marshal Smythe had been correct in stating Katie Harmon could be useful to their need, attitude problem or no attitude problem so for NOW at least Bryce wouldn't spoke any wheels by adding more fuel to the fire to this somewhat dysfunctional operation.
Heading towards the door he's greeted halfway with the sight of various people shuffling through the doorway and rather hurriedly into the room, with the "Cowboy" (a somewhat unimaginative nickname the US marshal from Texas had accepted with some rye humor) leading up the rear shaking his head.
"Janson," Bryce whispered fiercely after giving Saratoga a quick nod of at least passing welcome before turning back towards Smythe. "While more than happy to see the shipgirl here, even IF she had brought a cellphone into here, what the hell was that?"
With a gesture first at the door into the conference room and then at Saratoga's cellphone, the FBI agent made clear that the question involved more than merely one thing. The first was of course asking what the shouting outside was about. The second question Agent Bryce had a sinking feeling he knew the answer was involving a wayward Wo since everyone HAD been expecting the Abyssal to contact Saratoga again. He just wanted to cover bases on the second before jumping to conclusions and thinking this was some kind of boneheaded repeating of what his idiotic "wonder boy" agent had pulled not less than a few hours ago with his non-secure attempt to search the internet during that earlier teleconference.
He respected the shipgirl enough to not jump to conclusions like that and start reading her the riot act, thanks.
"Whoever just asked that question," a young-sounding woman interrupted whatever the somewhat vexed marshal is about to say "That would probably be due to me, Trinitite. Aircraft carrier of the former Crossroads Fleet."
"Who happens to be using Deputy Katie Hanson's cellphone to make this call," Janson Smythe added drolly as Bryce and the others in the room gape at the voice on the other end of Saratoga's smartphone speaker. "And by God, you're not going to . . ."
Bryce was too busy sputtering and turning somewhat pale to be able to anything intelligent to the mix at this.
Just what the ACTUAL F*CK?! If this was just the way to end one's career, this latest fuckup!!
If Smythe wasn't just yanking his chain here, at least the smartphone that Trinitite had swiped from Deputy/Private Katie "Super Karen" Harmon wasn't ONLY able to broadcast into to the clear blue, just for anyone with the tech to listen into here. With a simple swipe of a built-in app onboard, the encryption could be easily switched on.
By somebody's paranoid forethought, each of their government-issued smartphones had built-in encryption kits for just these . . .well, somewhat similar occasions like this. Lord knows that he'd never heard of any cases out there that the FBI (or any alphabet agency) had ever had THIS happen with this kind of quarry!
But talking about fuckup!! Just moments ago he'd answered the very deputy's last phone call into the base, asking about that Walmart lead! And what would you know!! That lead? OH! This meant that the "false" lead about Trinitite being there wasn't so much as yet another failure. Not yet a mistaken sighting which was Shangri La being out and about! That was good, but not really good enough considering that said "not false lead" Trinitite might just BE at Walmart, if Harmon had gone to that store it did not mean that the case was DONE and over. Even IF Shangri La could be contacted (discretely) to turn back around and drive BACK to Walmart, this could still turn into something VERY ugly. For obvious reasons, this had to be played carefully else anyone at Walmart might have to pay a very heavy price for their poor luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, even IF Abyssal/ Kanmusu combat was a physics problem while on dry land! Too many innocent civilians would be the price all the same!
Let us not talk about the blowback by public reaction afterward, please!!
"Mother? TRINITITE?!" a third young female voice just then had to make her presence known, being able to see Saratoga and (somewhat) hear both shipgirls. "Trin! How are you here? You got summoned back as well by the Navy too?!"
"Sister?!" a fourth female voice adds to this, recognizing Trinitite's voice despite it barely being audible from her end of the teleconference. "You're back as well?"
Trinitite, being stuck with only the speakerphone on her end cannot see her sisters, but can d*mn well recognize those voices anywhere, even IF it has been too long since last she'd seen them before her sisters had died in battle.
But with the Momboat . . .er . . .with Saratoga?
With Saratoga...
Turning, the red-headed shipgirl known as Saratoga (formerly the Abyssal Jellyfish Princess) and sees on the large screen television two faces she thought to never to be able to see again. Despite both shipgirls now having light lavender hair (before having been white) and lightly tanned skin (vice albino white), she'd know those faces anywhere. Instead of the glow of eyes of blue and orange, they now had a case of heterochromia; orange and blue eyes. Despite that . . .despite them being Essex-class shipgirls (albeit with a decidedly Wo-class touch) . . .she knew her daughters.
And they knew her! And the shock was making her feel more than a bit light-headed here.
"Hypocenter," Saratoga whispered softly, tears forming in her eyes as her knees felt a tiny bit weak. "Firestorm."
"Hey!" US Marshal Smythe says as he swoops in to hug the redhead slightly in support. Ignoring Firestorm's and Hypocenter's questions, he instead holds the aircraft carrier shipgirl steady. "Hey, it's okay. Easy!
"Let's get her a seat and can we get Trinitite patched into here somehow so we don't hafta worry about violating any stupid secret squirrel sh*t?" the marshal continues with his Texas twang thickening slightly at points, looking about him in vexation. "I mean I sure as shootin' hate to be doing any d*mn jail time after this is all said and done, even IF it works out without any death and fire thanks!!"
"Yes," Saratoga nods to herself distractedly while touching a built-in fingerprint reader on her cellphone." Just let me just punch that icon in the shape of a squirrel wearing the fedora and trench coat and . . ."
Saratoga had actually laughed at the icon, after learning about where the phrase (and thus the icon) came from. Now, it didn't even cause her to blink. She was a bit too busy being emotionally overwhelmed by other things, you know.
With a little bit of hassle, Trinitite manages to activate the encrypted teleconference feature on Private Investigator Katie Harmon's smartphone (with a bit of aid from Katie by way of her fingerprint after Trinitite "requested" she do as much). Plugging her smartphone into a port in the teleconference machine on the desk before her, all were treated to a somewhat goggle-eyed Trinitite and Katie Harmon staring at an audience on the left half of the large TV screen, both seated in the back seats of a car of all things.
While the other half was dominated right now by the now by both the Kanmusu-ized Abyssals, looking rather eager for something in the way of answers. That and REALLY wanting to reach out and help their crying mother here from the soft words of comfort and concern from their end of things.
Trinitite would do the same if she wasn't so confused at this latest befuddling thing! Why were her sisters HERE? How were they here and like THIS? Had the Firebringers done the same . . . No, the one known as Murray (a voice and face she'd not soon forget from that damnable first time she'd met her back on the Pacific Lilly) had let slip her sister had shown up by an accidental summoning. Supposedly in Japan, since that was where her mother was.
She was still in Japan, right? She wasn't sure as to why her mother wasn't in the same room as both Firestorm and Hypocenter (looking like Kanmusu be damned, those were her SISTERS Deep d*mnit!), but it wasn't like . . . she'd somehow gotten BACK to America in the hours since last they spoke, right?
That would be insane.
Oh Trin, if you only knew. If you'd only knew.
"Hypocenter!" Saratoga whispered, looking up at the screen. "Firestorm! My brave, lovely daughters."
Hypocenter, Saratoga remembered Jellyfish having noted Hypocenter being the most 'normal' looking of the three dear daughters when first summoning her. The shipgirl now still possessed the hangar deck catapult that came with several earlier Essex-class ships but is a late war long-hull configuration otherwise. Since that catapult kinda awkwardly launches aircraft out of the side of the ship into unpredictable turbulence, she found it about as useful as they did in that World War (not very).
Though, now recalling some of the things she'd learned during the last teleconference in Japan? The damage those captured fairies had revealed while being interrogated from what they'd witnessed whilst in the air before Trinitite had made landfall? With all that damage done to her deck, Saratoga would bet good money that Trinitite would kill for one right now, considering the state of her flight deck.
Her poor injured Wo...!
....
Oh yes, Saratoga has gone full Momboat here!
Firestorm, Saratoga could see it even in her new "shipgirl" rigging. Her fiery daughter had NOT been "gifted" with that dual-purpose 5-inch/38s that the Essex-class normally used. Instead? As an Abyssal, that had been replaced by the cruiser-grade 8-inch/55 guns Saratoga was launched with. And now she still had those 8-inch/55 guns. Okay, that technically makes her a better service combatant, but Firestorm never really experienced service combat and complained about her lack of long-range AA quite a lot. THAT part Saratoga had been able to recall about her daughter. At least her former self (that bitch!), had been kind enough to notice!!
...
Memories.
Memories of her as the Jellyfish Princess reared their head, making her recall how she'd only gone through the motions as a mother. Giving out ice cream, and not anything really more real.
Damn her former self for doing that! Damn her!!
Feeling her heart almost break, she swore to herself that in this time. As this person, she was NOW. She was going to be . . .their mother in truth, heart, and soul.
And besides, even if she had been willing in mind to not acknowledge them as her daughters . . .her heart was in total revolt. IT would not allow anything less!
Turning eyes to Trinitite, she felt her heart melt. All this way from Bikini Atoll...
"Trinitite," she smiled, crying softly. "My brave little Wo-class!"
"But . . .Mother!" Hypocenter blinked, not having been fully read into this part of the 'program'. "Isn't she also a shipgirl like us now?"
"I mean it isn't like . . . what in the f*cking Deep?" began the somewhat brash and bold Firestorm, only to stumble to a stop when Trinitite's eyes light up in all their Abyssal Orange and Blue glory. "B-but I saw you take that hit with the missile and burn!"
Hypocenter knew that she was the most collected of the three sisters. Trinitite thought that her sister was a perfectly capable flagship, and she's done well in the past, but Hypocenter had admitted to herself she often takes far too long to make a decision and COULD sometimes be too indecisive when trying to consider a problem. But that said, she felt herself to have been pretty good at thinking clearly under pressure, despite how long she deliberated! Oh, and she was the shyest of the three because of that, but that was as an aside and not important to the here and now.
Still, while she had stuck with the Jellyfish Princess throughout the entirety of the Battle of Bikini until a salvo from Nagato ended her she was willing to bet her newly earned "paycheck" (money, what a fascinating concept!), on what Trinitite had done had hit her even harder than that bloody be d*mned salvo!!
"You'd died!" Firestorm sputtered, almost unable to believe what she was seeing her with her own eyes. "I saw it."
Firestorm, she admitted even herself to be a lot more impulsive than her sisters, and often wouldn't be the flagship for their expeditions because she didn't really have the patience to deal with other Princesses. That is what she'd recalled of her old life and accepted it. Oh, and she was so VERY Unafraid to call out friends and otherwise out on their bullshit, leading to some... heated discussions between her and ships from other fleets during convoys. She smiled at some of those times. Memories. Good ones, those.
But Not good memories about her last ones of Trinitite! She recalled it too vividly. She'd Completely lost it when Trinitite went down to the lucky missile in the battle of Bikini, drifted out of formation to help her before sinking to a carrier strike.
Trinitite? Her eyes burning like that? They were basically stating that for whatever confusing reason why her sisters might have become Kanmusu (or at least Kanmusu-ized Abyssals), Trin still was still very MUCH an Abyssal.
"It was her crew's skills in damage control," Smythe said, deciding to at least make the first attempt to break the silence. He did remember his briefings about how Trinitite had survived. "Sara taught her well, you know. You all know that."
Author's Note: Okay, perhaps a bit much with Saratoga going all "Momboat" over her daughter here? Well, what is found on the wiki about Saratoga puts her as having an "onee-san" personality with her fleet-mates. How much more would she be caring (and even loving) with her children, the Essex-class? With her Wo-class daughters? Eventually, I think it would be this way.
Special thanks to PyrrhicSteel for his notes about Firestorm and Hypocenter.
Oh, and again tried to edit this beforehand, so...
With FBI Agent Charles Bryce
"EVERYONE INSIDE RIGHT NOW!!" somebody bellows from outside the conference room, causing everyone else to stop whatever they are doing (in some cases the "doing" was something akin to "bickering") and instead stare at the door to outside.
Some more discussion could be heard from the other side of the door, but because of the door's thickness, it was unintelligible.
"Was that the Cowboy?" one of Agent Bryce's coworkers from the FBI blinked. "Boy! At a guess I believe he's finally gotten tired of Super Karen the PI?"
Agent Bryce--not the biggest fan of that somewhat narcissistic private investigator himself--still gave a less than playful swat to the coworker's shoulder and gives a stern look to the FBI coworker woman in question. US Marshal Smythe had been correct in stating Katie Harmon could be useful to their need, attitude problem or no attitude problem so for NOW at least Bryce wouldn't spoke any wheels by adding more fuel to the fire to this somewhat dysfunctional operation.
Heading towards the door he's greeted halfway with the sight of various people shuffling through the doorway and rather hurriedly into the room, with the "Cowboy" (a somewhat unimaginative nickname the US marshal from Texas had accepted with some rye humor) leading up the rear shaking his head.
"Janson," Bryce whispered fiercely after giving Saratoga a quick nod of at least passing welcome before turning back towards Smythe. "While more than happy to see the shipgirl here, even IF she had brought a cellphone into here, what the hell was that?"
With a gesture first at the door into the conference room and then at Saratoga's cellphone, the FBI agent made clear that the question involved more than merely one thing. The first was of course asking what the shouting outside was about. The second question Agent Bryce had a sinking feeling he knew the answer was involving a wayward Wo since everyone HAD been expecting the Abyssal to contact Saratoga again. He just wanted to cover bases on the second before jumping to conclusions and thinking this was some kind of boneheaded repeating of what his idiotic "wonder boy" agent had pulled not less than a few hours ago with his non-secure attempt to search the internet during that earlier teleconference.
He respected the shipgirl enough to not jump to conclusions like that and start reading her the riot act, thanks.
"Whoever just asked that question," a young-sounding woman interrupted whatever the somewhat vexed marshal is about to say "That would probably be due to me, Trinitite. Aircraft carrier of the former Crossroads Fleet."
"Who happens to be using Deputy Katie Hanson's cellphone to make this call," Janson Smythe added drolly as Bryce and the others in the room gape at the voice on the other end of Saratoga's smartphone speaker. "And by God, you're not going to . . ."
Bryce was too busy sputtering and turning somewhat pale to be able to anything intelligent to the mix at this.
Just what the ACTUAL F*CK?! If this was just the way to end one's career, this latest fuckup!!
If Smythe wasn't just yanking his chain here, at least the smartphone that Trinitite had swiped from Deputy/Private Katie "Super Karen" Harmon wasn't ONLY able to broadcast into to the clear blue, just for anyone with the tech to listen into here. With a simple swipe of a built-in app onboard, the encryption could be easily switched on.
By somebody's paranoid forethought, each of their government-issued smartphones had built-in encryption kits for just these . . .well, somewhat similar occasions like this. Lord knows that he'd never heard of any cases out there that the FBI (or any alphabet agency) had ever had THIS happen with this kind of quarry!
But talking about fuckup!! Just moments ago he'd answered the very deputy's last phone call into the base, asking about that Walmart lead! And what would you know!! That lead? OH! This meant that the "false" lead about Trinitite being there wasn't so much as yet another failure. Not yet a mistaken sighting which was Shangri La being out and about! That was good, but not really good enough considering that said "not false lead" Trinitite might just BE at Walmart, if Harmon had gone to that store it did not mean that the case was DONE and over. Even IF Shangri La could be contacted (discretely) to turn back around and drive BACK to Walmart, this could still turn into something VERY ugly. For obvious reasons, this had to be played carefully else anyone at Walmart might have to pay a very heavy price for their poor luck of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, even IF Abyssal/ Kanmusu combat was a physics problem while on dry land! Too many innocent civilians would be the price all the same!
Let us not talk about the blowback by public reaction afterward, please!!
"Mother? TRINITITE?!" a third young female voice just then had to make her presence known, being able to see Saratoga and (somewhat) hear both shipgirls. "Trin! How are you here? You got summoned back as well by the Navy too?!"
"Sister?!" a fourth female voice adds to this, recognizing Trinitite's voice despite it barely being audible from her end of the teleconference. "You're back as well?"
Trinitite, being stuck with only the speakerphone on her end cannot see her sisters, but can d*mn well recognize those voices anywhere, even IF it has been too long since last she'd seen them before her sisters had died in battle.
But with the Momboat . . .er . . .with Saratoga?
With Saratoga...
Turning, the red-headed shipgirl known as Saratoga (formerly the Abyssal Jellyfish Princess) and sees on the large screen television two faces she thought to never to be able to see again. Despite both shipgirls now having light lavender hair (before having been white) and lightly tanned skin (vice albino white), she'd know those faces anywhere. Instead of the glow of eyes of blue and orange, they now had a case of heterochromia; orange and blue eyes. Despite that . . .despite them being Essex-class shipgirls (albeit with a decidedly Wo-class touch) . . .she knew her daughters.
And they knew her! And the shock was making her feel more than a bit light-headed here.
"Hypocenter," Saratoga whispered softly, tears forming in her eyes as her knees felt a tiny bit weak. "Firestorm."
"Hey!" US Marshal Smythe says as he swoops in to hug the redhead slightly in support. Ignoring Firestorm's and Hypocenter's questions, he instead holds the aircraft carrier shipgirl steady. "Hey, it's okay. Easy!
"Let's get her a seat and can we get Trinitite patched into here somehow so we don't hafta worry about violating any stupid secret squirrel sh*t?" the marshal continues with his Texas twang thickening slightly at points, looking about him in vexation. "I mean I sure as shootin' hate to be doing any d*mn jail time after this is all said and done, even IF it works out without any death and fire thanks!!"
"Yes," Saratoga nods to herself distractedly while touching a built-in fingerprint reader on her cellphone." Just let me just punch that icon in the shape of a squirrel wearing the fedora and trench coat and . . ."
Saratoga had actually laughed at the icon, after learning about where the phrase (and thus the icon) came from. Now, it didn't even cause her to blink. She was a bit too busy being emotionally overwhelmed by other things, you know.
With a little bit of hassle, Trinitite manages to activate the encrypted teleconference feature on Private Investigator Katie Harmon's smartphone (with a bit of aid from Katie by way of her fingerprint after Trinitite "requested" she do as much). Plugging her smartphone into a port in the teleconference machine on the desk before her, all were treated to a somewhat goggle-eyed Trinitite and Katie Harmon staring at an audience on the left half of the large TV screen, both seated in the back seats of a car of all things.
While the other half was dominated right now by the now by both the Kanmusu-ized Abyssals, looking rather eager for something in the way of answers. That and REALLY wanting to reach out and help their crying mother here from the soft words of comfort and concern from their end of things.
Trinitite would do the same if she wasn't so confused at this latest befuddling thing! Why were her sisters HERE? How were they here and like THIS? Had the Firebringers done the same . . . No, the one known as Murray (a voice and face she'd not soon forget from that damnable first time she'd met her back on the Pacific Lilly) had let slip her sister had shown up by an accidental summoning. Supposedly in Japan, since that was where her mother was.
She was still in Japan, right? She wasn't sure as to why her mother wasn't in the same room as both Firestorm and Hypocenter (looking like Kanmusu be damned, those were her SISTERS Deep d*mnit!), but it wasn't like . . . she'd somehow gotten BACK to America in the hours since last they spoke, right?
That would be insane.
Oh Trin, if you only knew. If you'd only knew.
"Hypocenter!" Saratoga whispered, looking up at the screen. "Firestorm! My brave, lovely daughters."
Hypocenter, Saratoga remembered Jellyfish having noted Hypocenter being the most 'normal' looking of the three dear daughters when first summoning her. The shipgirl now still possessed the hangar deck catapult that came with several earlier Essex-class ships but is a late war long-hull configuration otherwise. Since that catapult kinda awkwardly launches aircraft out of the side of the ship into unpredictable turbulence, she found it about as useful as they did in that World War (not very).
Though, now recalling some of the things she'd learned during the last teleconference in Japan? The damage those captured fairies had revealed while being interrogated from what they'd witnessed whilst in the air before Trinitite had made landfall? With all that damage done to her deck, Saratoga would bet good money that Trinitite would kill for one right now, considering the state of her flight deck.
Her poor injured Wo...!
....
Oh yes, Saratoga has gone full Momboat here!
Firestorm, Saratoga could see it even in her new "shipgirl" rigging. Her fiery daughter had NOT been "gifted" with that dual-purpose 5-inch/38s that the Essex-class normally used. Instead? As an Abyssal, that had been replaced by the cruiser-grade 8-inch/55 guns Saratoga was launched with. And now she still had those 8-inch/55 guns. Okay, that technically makes her a better service combatant, but Firestorm never really experienced service combat and complained about her lack of long-range AA quite a lot. THAT part Saratoga had been able to recall about her daughter. At least her former self (that bitch!), had been kind enough to notice!!
...
Memories.
Memories of her as the Jellyfish Princess reared their head, making her recall how she'd only gone through the motions as a mother. Giving out ice cream, and not anything really more real.
Damn her former self for doing that! Damn her!!
Feeling her heart almost break, she swore to herself that in this time. As this person, she was NOW. She was going to be . . .their mother in truth, heart, and soul.
And besides, even if she had been willing in mind to not acknowledge them as her daughters . . .her heart was in total revolt. IT would not allow anything less!
Turning eyes to Trinitite, she felt her heart melt. All this way from Bikini Atoll...
"Trinitite," she smiled, crying softly. "My brave little Wo-class!"
"But . . .Mother!" Hypocenter blinked, not having been fully read into this part of the 'program'. "Isn't she also a shipgirl like us now?"
"I mean it isn't like . . . what in the f*cking Deep?" began the somewhat brash and bold Firestorm, only to stumble to a stop when Trinitite's eyes light up in all their Abyssal Orange and Blue glory. "B-but I saw you take that hit with the missile and burn!"
Hypocenter knew that she was the most collected of the three sisters. Trinitite thought that her sister was a perfectly capable flagship, and she's done well in the past, but Hypocenter had admitted to herself she often takes far too long to make a decision and COULD sometimes be too indecisive when trying to consider a problem. But that said, she felt herself to have been pretty good at thinking clearly under pressure, despite how long she deliberated! Oh, and she was the shyest of the three because of that, but that was as an aside and not important to the here and now.
Still, while she had stuck with the Jellyfish Princess throughout the entirety of the Battle of Bikini until a salvo from Nagato ended her she was willing to bet her newly earned "paycheck" (money, what a fascinating concept!), on what Trinitite had done had hit her even harder than that bloody be d*mned salvo!!
"You'd died!" Firestorm sputtered, almost unable to believe what she was seeing her with her own eyes. "I saw it."
Firestorm, she admitted even herself to be a lot more impulsive than her sisters, and often wouldn't be the flagship for their expeditions because she didn't really have the patience to deal with other Princesses. That is what she'd recalled of her old life and accepted it. Oh, and she was so VERY Unafraid to call out friends and otherwise out on their bullshit, leading to some... heated discussions between her and ships from other fleets during convoys. She smiled at some of those times. Memories. Good ones, those.
But Not good memories about her last ones of Trinitite! She recalled it too vividly. She'd Completely lost it when Trinitite went down to the lucky missile in the battle of Bikini, drifted out of formation to help her before sinking to a carrier strike.
Trinitite? Her eyes burning like that? They were basically stating that for whatever confusing reason why her sisters might have become Kanmusu (or at least Kanmusu-ized Abyssals), Trin still was still very MUCH an Abyssal.
"It was her crew's skills in damage control," Smythe said, deciding to at least make the first attempt to break the silence. He did remember his briefings about how Trinitite had survived. "Sara taught her well, you know. You all know that."
Last edited:
All hail the hypnocenter. ... Are Futurama references still cool?