So; the fairy can start setting up the meet, and insist Trin will only talk to Sara/her Princess, nobody else. Sara has to be in public, and obviously so.
Fairy power for the win? The 2 pilots are closer to finding Sara than Trin is at the moment, and they's still on mission, gathering intel.
If you ever want to just give in to your true feelings and have Trinitite magically wake up one morning as a celebrity food-critic, I won't blame the story for the implausible nonsequitur
Despite living here for a few weeks now, The Light Cruiser's apartment wasn't much to talk about. Compared to the office at Everett, she didn't spend much time here, and if they finally dealt with this… mess and she got to leave for more sorties, she'd see it even less, so the sparse decorations suited her just fine.
The only exception dominated a wall of her combination kitchen and living room, the gigantic flatscreen flanked by a pair of towering speakers. The expensive entertainment center was the result of buying pretty much everything a salesman at an electronics store pointed out to her. It felt almost vulgar in how fancy it was, especially compared to the relative modesty of the rest of her apartment, but no shipgirl wanted to dump all of their signing bonus into a bank account or trust fund. Nashville had been warned that the 61k wouldn't extend as far as she'd expect it to, but plenty of shipgirls would 'invest' in a fancy computer or new car before dumping the rest into a mutual fund.
The Light Cruiser had considered those things, of course. She didn't know how to drive, however, and with an abyssal on the loose didn't have the time to schedule training, so wasn't an option. Plenty of summoned shipgirls tried to embrace the future they found themselves in by purchasing an expensive computer, but Nashville already spent way too much time around computers in the office. The midline personal laptop she'd bought sat on a table, practically unused.
No, it was better to stick with entertainment that she knew about: Sitting on a couch and forgetting about her day while she consumed some trash television program. The tried and true method was a distant second to sailing into pudger sound and sinking a practice target, but she could only get authorization to do so a few times a month.
Scooping the remote off of her dining table, Nashville powered on the television.
"-for my daughters. Ten Thousand dollars will go a long way towards putting them through college."
There were plenty of other options, such as the trials for streaming services that came with the TV, the web browser, and any number of game consoles she'd heard about, but again she didn't want to waste time on technology right now. Perhaps, once Trinitite was dealt with and she was transferred to a more active posting, she would become curious enough to learn all of this, but not now.
"I have nothing against the other cooks, I don't know them..."
On the television, an overly-edited montage of a man cooking lit up the light cruiser's room. From the interspaced fake interviews and overly-dramatic editing, it seemed like she'd stumbled into a trashy reality show, but she couldn't quite take her attention off of the dishes they were preparing. Every other shot contained some portion of pasta or meat, lavished in exotic spices and beautiful garnishes…
Reality show or not, the shipgirl would love to learn how to make one of those. After work she was always too drained to try out cooking herself, but watching professionals in action would make things easier once she found the time, right?
Still, the food was making her hungry. Placing the remote down and heading to her freezer, she started searching. It had been a while since she'd last gone grocery shopping, so the pickings were slim, but that didn't look so bad. She grabbed the bag, sliding the freezer closed with a thunk as she examined the pasta.
Maine Lobster Ravioli.
...Yeah, that'll do.
A commercial break later, Nashville allowed her aft to fall to her futon. The frozen pasta wouldn't be ready until the water on the stove behind her boiled, but if she continued watching the cooking program without something to much on, she'd go insane. She needed something to munch on, but her sparse pantry had already been mostly eaten down. Thus, while the show started the segment on preparing an appetizer, she'd be enjoying one her own… of breakfast cereal.
"Ladies and gentlemen," The host started, addressing the assembled contestants, "before we reveal the appitiser's ingredient basket, I'd like you to direct your attention to our judges."
As he stood, he motioned to the table behind him, where two humans sat at a table. A third seat was conspicuously vacant, an empty spot disrupting the symmetry of the show's set. Nashville noted the oddity, but until then had figured it was a normal part of the show's format. As the host continued, she popped the cap off a bottle of hard lemonade and took a speculative slip. She didn't want to indulge in any hard alcohol tonight, but she figured there was no harm in a bottle of the sweet drink.
"All four of you have catered to all kinds of people, but tonight you'll be working to appease the most unique critic you've ever cooked for."
Nashville leaned forwards, intrigued. Had they gotten some kind of political figure to show up? A shipgirl?
She snorted at the thought. She'd hate to be on TV, but the prospect of a bunch of free gourmet food might tempt her.
The host turned, looking backstage with a carefully trained expression.
"Trinitite, can you come in?"
What.
The soundtrack abruptly shifted, a dark chorus rumbling from the entertainment center's large speakers as fog flooded onto the set. Nashville watched on in horror, certain she'd misheard. There wasn't- She couldn't-
From the darkness, three lights suddenly resolved themselves. Two orange, one high and dull, followed by a lower one that sat next to a chilling, bright blue.
But that didn't make any sense. How could she even get there? Who would okay this?
Nashville had almost convinced her she was watching some terribly-planned stunt until the abyssal emerged fully from the fog. The camera angle had changed to a low shot to show the Wo-class's massive height, but the creature strolling imperiously onto the set was definitely real. Nashville knew that boat.
The camera shifted, showing expressions of shock, awe, and stunned silence from the contestants, before cutting back to the abyssal. At the new camera angle, it was easy to see the hole still blasted into her hat, a missing turret and lifelessly dark eye somehow adding even more to her menacing aura.
"Good evening." The abyssal spoke up, her surprisingly normal voice low, and even. "Do your best."
...That was her, alright, battle damage and everything. Just-
Bolting upwards, the light cruiser started hastily searching for a place to set her drink and meal down. She needed to make a phone call.
Hey, my first omake! I feel kind of bad that inspiration for my first one didn't strike for someone else's fic, but hopefully you enjoyed! This also might be why I haven't replied to much in this thread, sorry. Consider this about as canon as anyone else's omake on this fic, for obvious reasons.
"So tell me, Trinitite, what has been your experience in cuisine since arriving in the States?"
"Um, very flavorful. Spices were hard to get used to. Even peppered chicken--at first, at first."
"I take it that cuisine among the Crossroads Fleet wasn't so... varied."
Nashville: How does everyone already know all this?
"Mostly fish. And salt to add flavor. A lot of salt. Ever since I've found out there was more to human food, I've been looking to expand my palette. Surprise me."
"Well, there you have it, contestants! Go easy on the salt and let's cook our new judge the surprise of her culinary lifetime! Though, perhaps, not too surprising."
Director: "And cut to commercial! Good job keeping them on their toes. Shipgirl contestants were so last year. Viewer count is already through the roof in the past minute, let's not keep them hanging, people!"
While it was just as unfamiliar to her as the rest of human territory, the persistent strangeness that surrounded everything she experienced seemed to dissipate at the Library. The feeling hadn't made much sense to Trinitite, until she realized how little she needed to do to blend in here. In this building, one was usually only expected to be quiet and read, things that came quite naturally to the abyssal. She'd seen signs about 'library cards,' 'kids programs,' and plenty of future training exercises, but the Wo-class wasn't obliged to worry about any of them yet.
If there was a way to borrow one of these computers, like the books plenty of humans left with, she was unaware of it, but that was probably for good reason. Trinitite couldn't begin to understand the mysterious human techniques that allowed the computer to access so much intelligence, but considering the cables that lead away from the device it was probably anchored here. It was a shame, too. This place was relaxing, but fairly far from her workplace and a little too close to Everett. Still, she hadn't found anywhere else where she could access similar equipment. Perhaps there was a computer in the worksite's office, but even if Trinitite wasn't afraid to ask, there was no way she could get through her research list without having to answer some awkward questions from Dan.
Hmm… perhaps the specifics of the computer's systems could use some more research. As the Wo-class slid a chair away from the desk, she considered adding that topic to her research list… but wasn't sure exactly what kind of term would get her a useful answer.
Deep, she had run into this problem already, hadn't she?
Sitting down and logging into the library computer, her attention drifted back to her research list. Best to work on what she knew to look after, and keep adding new questions until she had what she wanted. Clicking on the white box at the bottom-left of the screen, Trinitite looked down at the keyboard, mentally checking her list. Last time, she'd focused her intelligence gathering on job-related activities, such as definitions for parts of human structures. Those were now dutifully crossed out, but above them, she noticed that she'd skipped a term.
Sexual harassment.
The Wo-class involuntarily shivered. Further research into that was going to wait. Indefinitely. Sure, it was important, meaning she was going to have to look into it eventually, but not soon.
The next couple of items on the research list were also a major priority, perhaps more so because they dealt with logistics: Where to buy Steel, aluminum, rubber, and wood. Eating simple food improved her supply situation, which included these desperately needed materials, but she could still feel that the majority of her aircraft weren't combat-capable, and a lot of work needed to be done before she had any confidence in her deck again. Her headache wasn't going to fade entirely, and her elevators weren't going to start working without yard time, but some proper materials would go a long way towards improving things.
Besides, the sooner she could get rid of her dull headache, the better. She couldn't distract herself from it all the time.
She started typing, carefully finding and pressing each labeled button until the white box was filled with her needed question.
Where to buy steel
Satisfied she'd spelled everything correctly, the abyssal clicked on the adjacent arrow and a familiar window appeared. Surprisingly, whoever made this machine must have built it to recognize 'buy,' because the normal links had been pushed downwards for a line of images of steel bars and sheets, their prices underneath each image and label.
Just in an abstract sense, the computer's complexity astounded her. How its builders managed to plan something so versatile and complicated was amazing, let alone how they managed to build the thing. Compared to abyssal fire computers…
Any more thoughts on human technology abruptly died when she quit looking at the listed prices and actually read them. The abyssal quietly hissed in surprise, an incredulous whisper slipping from her lips.
"Four feet for three hundred and twenty dollars?" She hadn't misread a decimal point, had she?
That was three days of work for Dan, for hardly anything! On top of that, the steel beam, pitifully short and thin by any ship's standards, was hollow as well, and only about three inches wide! It was blatantly apparent that any steel she got would be through general food, not by bowing to these insane demands! How was anyone dealing with that fleet?
She paused, anger fading as realization dawned. Of course other fleets were dealing with the one that sold steel, but they were fleets. They could pool the necessary resources to get such things, instead of insignificant individuals like herself. Out of no doubt several groups doing everything they could to make steel rare, Trinitite could think of one in particular, who was inadvertently making Trinitite's life that much harder.
Damn you, Navy. First you kill my fleet, then you take my princess, and now you're hoarding all the steel I need...
There was no real venom in the thought, however. This kind of setback was so common now she wasn't surprised. Anyways, next to the hideously expensive image of steel lay much smaller quantities in the thirty to fifty dollar range. Presumably, they were lower quality as well, which would explain how her current fleet dealt in so much rebar. Still expensive, but could be a decent snack if she just wanted the taste instead of getting enough to fix herself. Noting that, she crossed the item off her list and moved onto the next.
It was a similar story with aluminum, but thankfully rubber and wood seemed somewhat reasonably priced. Those probably wouldn't be a problem. It was a good thing she could get the other valuable resources out of regular food, otherwise the Wo-class would be forced into more Fred Meyers-style raids.
With those logistics questions answered, Trinitite turned to a much more serious one. It had been a question that had faded with everything that had happened, but reading it catapulted the Wo weeks back in time. She already had the answer to it, but knowing that somehow her princesses had been… turned only led to more questions. Given her experience with human opinions on abyssals over the radio, she wasn't sure she could trust any intel she received from this, but she clearly wasn't getting anywhere with what she knew. Hopefully whatever information she could find would have hints she could use to build a real picture of what had happened to her mother.
Can abyssal princesses turn into shipgirls?
As always, the window went white for a moment, before populating with another list of links. Unlike last time, however, the link's labels were anything but helpful.
FACT CHECK: No, shipgirls aren't former abyssals.
Are some Shipgirls former abyssals? (False)
Biting her lip in disappointment, Trinitite sighed. Those clearly weren't right. Either the humans there were spreading false intelligence, or were victims of it. She was tempted to read one of those just to see if there was anything she could confirm, but the next couple of links under 'videos' told an entirely different story.
Are Shipgirls really ABYSSALS IN DISGUISE? What the NWO DOESN'T want you to know!
Investigation: How many shipgirls are actually princesses?
CNN ADMITS TIES BETWEEN SHIPGIRLS AND ABYSSALS
Well, that was a change of pace. Even though their titles alternated between lower and upper case letters for no obvious reason, the fact they differed so much from the other links could probably tell her a lot. Did the fleet that controlled that radio show have better control of videos, instead of everyone else who trusted the Navy's story?
The impression of The Navy (Trinitite guessed the N in the 'NWO' acronym meant just that) and the insane radio station warring over control of this… Bing suddenly came to her. Infighting between princesses could be brutal, why not between humans? Just because she couldn't begin to understand how such a conflict would be fought doesn't mean it couldn't be happening.
It would probably involve having some sway over the fleet that had built this computer. Scrolling to the top of the page and checking the fleet's name written in the upper left-hand screen, a memory suddenly returned to her.
She recognized the name Microsoft, didn't she? Yes, during her job-finding mission in Redmond, she'd tried to join that fleet, but had practically been laughed out of the door. Specifics weren't coming to her, but she did remember passing a lot of buildings with that label on it on the way past. So… they built computers, then, like the one she was using now.
No wonder they hadn't taken her seriously. Their installation, which must have been what she passed on the way here, had dwarfed most of the other fleets she'd seen. It certainly compared to some naval installations. Perhaps they had both points of view displayed here because they were so powerful that the The Navy and whomever was behind those radio transmissions couldn't control them… or they just provided a few computers to the local area, and thus had no issues dealing with or supporting anyone.
Sitting up, Trinitite shook her head. She'd sidetracked herself. The videos would probably attract too much attention here, but she could probably read some of the Navy-influenced links. It would be bad intelligence, but they were lying to humans, not abyssals like her. Hopefully she'd be able to recognize the worst falsehoods.
FACT CHECK: No, shipgirls aren't former abyssals.
Below the title, an image of a shipgirl dominated the window. She guessed it was one, as while the woman was walking on land, she hadn't seen this type of clothing on any regular humans. There wasn't the instinctual recognition she had when she'd seen the shipgirls at Seattle, but she assumed it was more due to the computer's technical limitations, like how some of her aircraft's cameras could only take photos in black and white. Besides, she recognized the face somewhat, although she couldn't immediately place where.
It was a little difficult to make out too many details from her clothing, considering that her and her escort of strangely-uniformed humans were walking perpendicular to the camera, but what she could see of her far shoulder demonstrated some kind of rectangular shoulder pad. If that was the flight deck to a carrier's rigging...
Suddenly, Trinitite realized where she'd seen that face before. Whatever had happened to her mother… the same fate must have befallen the Abyssal Crane Princess as well.
Trinitite had hated her, especially after she'd gone so far as to threaten battle with The Crossroads Fleet, but she'd never doubted the dense carrier's conviction. To know that she hadn't merely been sunk in her ill-fated Okinawa campaign…
The Wo-class shivered. The Human Fleets had gotten to her, it seemed, and it had completely reversed the only thing Trinitite knew about her. If the process had changed this princess so much, could there be anything left of her mother?
For seconds, she allowed herself to contemplate the idea. Had her mother really been killed at Bikini? Had Trinitite, as wounded as she'd been, done nothing but sit and watch as Jellyfish was not only sunk, but completely erased, never to return? At least if they had torpedoed mother, there was a chance she could return, but not anymore. Perhaps the only way to get Jellyfish back would be through violence, and even if Saratoga only looked like Jellyfish, Trinitite wasn't sure she'd have the strength to sink her.
Finally, reason reasserted itself and the Wo-class calmed. The way Jellyfish had reacted to 'Lexie' proved that the two versions of the ship had some connection, and a personal one at that. Jellyfish would be in there. She had to be.
As for the former Crane Princess, Trinitite didn't know anything about why the carrier had hated humanity so much, and what could change that. With The Jellyfish Princess, things had seemed straightforward. As an abyssal princess, she'd lamented the loss of her daughters, until one of them showed up after the battle at Bikini and proved that they were alive. The specifics still eluded her, as well as the human's reasoning behind sinking the rest of her family before telling her that information, but there was enough answered questions for Trinitite to loosely grasp events. Maybe the Abyssal Crane Princess, for all her brutality and stupidity, had been suffering in her own way, and the humans at Japan had found a way to exploit that.
Checking the image's caption, Trinitite dutifully added 'Zuikaku' to her research list. Maybe looking into her service record could shed some light on both her hatred of humanity and what had happened to make her switch fleets. Perhaps this was expecting too much, but maybe she could find some clues about her mother, as well.
Unfortunately, the article itself wasn't particularly informative. Frustratingly, it avoided actually denying that shipgirls and Abyssals were linked, claiming the notion to simply be 'ridiculous,' before focusing on a collection of posts made on something called 'social media.' It described how the photographs featured had been faked or doctored, but by the time the article had gone into details the abyssal had mostly lost interest. She didn't want to call this question properly researched, but she had learned something important: Jellyfish hadn't been the only abyssal princess who'd been… converted. That not only opened new opportunities for her to get intelligence, but also had some pretty serious implications. How many battles had ended not in the abyssal princess being sunk, but instead joining the ranks of the enemy? What did that mean for the human fleet's strategy?
These questions… that was something she didn't want to put too much thought into without a map of the pacific, or someone to bounce ideas off of. With so much information she didn't know, it was going to be far too easy to draw a dangerously incorrect conclusion. She'd move down on the list for now, and return to this topic later.
Besides, the next item on her list wasn't that important anymore, but she still wanted to know what in the deep circuit breaker coolant was.
Hope you're all having a good summer! It hasn't technically started yet up here (and has come and gone for you folks in the Southern Hemisphere), but it certainly feels like it for me. My job has me working outside most of the time, and I got a bit delusional from heat exhaustion while writing this chapter, so if any passage in stopped making sense or anything, please let me know.
Did some thinking about this arc, and what I'm doing next, and realized I need to draw up a much more specific plan for how this'll happen. I don't want to get Trinitite stuck in a holding pattern of fluff, but I don't want to rush through this, either. I know what I'll be writing next chapter, and have known some scenes and broad strokes for a long time now, but I want to get a much more detailed outline ready so I know how long until the next arc, which I'm pretty exited to get to.
I adore this story, but there have definitely been entire plotlines that you've changed your mind about doing partway through. It's fine as-is, but if you ever did a heavy editing pass would probably excise. Like the entire thing with the private investigator.
For seconds, she allowed herself to contemplate the idea. Had her mother really been killed at Bikini? Had Trinitite, as wounded as she'd been, done nothing but sit and watch as Jellyfish was not only sunk, but completely erased, never to return? At least if they had torpedoed mother, there was a chance she could return, but not anymore. Perhaps the only way to get Jellyfish back would be through violence, and even if Saratoga only looked like Jellyfish, Trinitite wasn't sure she'd have the strength to sink her.
Pretty sure there was a chapter talking about this earlier. Hit and run tactics would let her do some pretty good damage to a city, and then she could move on to the next while being very difficult to find, so she could bomb a couple cities, although she do much aside from killing a bunch of civilians, since sticking around long enough to do more damage would result in her getting caught. The really nasty part is that her attacks would cause a massive panic, which would be really bad.
Pretty sure there was a chapter talking about this earlier. Hit and run tactics would let her do some pretty good damage to a city, and then she could move on to the next while being very difficult to find, so she could bomb a couple cities, although she do much aside from killing a bunch of civilians, since sticking around long enough to do more damage would result in her getting caught. The really nasty part is that her attacks would cause a massive panic, which would be really bad.
I was thinking more of her trying to get Jellyfish back through violence, even if attacking a naval base would be suicide I imagine it's much harder to actually destroy a ship on land then at sea and while a carrier might not have many guns I cant imagine being hit by something that heavy would be very good for whatever she hit.
I adore this story, but there have definitely been entire plotlines that you've changed your mind about doing partway through. It's fine as-is, but if you ever did a heavy editing pass would probably excise. Like the entire thing with the private investigator.
There's a bit of that definitely, but I still have significant plans with the Private Investigator. I I've developed a habit of setting things up that I can't pay off for a while, and I'm still trying to figure out how to execute that properly. There's a lot of things that I've dropped that I plan on picking up later, but I can't guarantee I haven't hinted at things that just won't happen.
I was thinking more of her trying to get Jellyfish back through violence, even if attacking a naval base would be suicide I imagine it's much harder to actually destroy a ship on land then at sea and while a carrier might not have many guns I cant imagine being hit by something that heavy would be very good for whatever she hit.
It'd depend on if the story is still going with the whole "RWBY recoil" for firing their guns on land thing. But either way a bum rush on a naval base would result in not terribly much long term damage. The biggest long term damage she'd do would be the causalities since she she might accidently take out some important people.
Her ability to field planes is almost completely ruined by her damaged deck, so she'd be mostly down to her guns which are... very much not the point of a carrier. A concentrated barrage of 5 inch shells will make their displeasure known to nearly anything she cared to fire them at... but she can't really concentrate fire if each shot is also bouncing her wildly through the air. Even then she'd be pretty much done the second the confusion wears off and shipgirls get involved, especially if she's attacking a naval base and is thus near the water where they can get a stable firing position.
Just because she can't sink on land doesn't mean she can't go up in a fireball from enough damage. She's literally full of flammable fuel and ammunition just waiting for a spark. And she doesn't even have to die so much as just take enough damage to be incapacitated. At which point she can be dealt with at their leisure.
I think the biggest damage from Trinity going berserk would be from widespread panic among general public, and response from authorities that would be required to restore order.
The amount of resources nations would have to spend to guard their non coastal areas would be immense, not to mention the time spent on hunting other infiltrators.
In this situation scrapyards would be busily reprocessing all their steel for use in construction elsewhere.
Most of the time cars and such sit for a while because they have parts in them that are more valuable as parts than metals for recycling. Reuse rather than recycle. The remaining bits of steel can wait until that's done. Then once the part value drops below the steel value, off to the shredder it goes.
In this situation it's off to the shredder much much faster because the price of steel is probably through the roof.
Not sure about hazardous waste but the dump and salvage yards does sound like a good idea. That was a thing for Georgia in SSS. Of course one need ask about such as oxidation and steel quality and other metal quality Trin needs. Saw a few posts over at SB asking about the last part btw....
But push come to shove then places like "pick a part" for autos would maybe be for Trin. Just have to do it smartly. Too much too quickly would raise eyebrows. Like how many cars does this "Elizabeth" have to warrant so much bought. Though the Feds might not be out looking at this angle to track down hungry missing Wo classes.
If she could get her flight-deck up, and a full load of planes, and sends them off to kamikaze into Saratoga? That is an extremely large number of bombs, with a significant hit-rate, and she can almost certainly be long-gone by the time a response can track down the point-of-origin... assuming that Saratoga doesn't figure out that she can use recoil to dodge.... Without one-way planes? She is probably best off playing assassin. Maybe waiting along a frequent route, planting a stop sign, and dropping an overpass onto whatever is transporting Saratoga. Or planting a great pile of bombs under the road. Not many things remain functional after being blown several metres into the air...
I am disappointed that this latest chapter received more likes than hugs. Lamed lost lexington-alike is lonely...
Trin goes on a date. She doesn't think it's (or know of)a date but the guy asking her thinks it is. She's there to experience new foods (don't eat the salt shaker) with a native guide. He's there to tune a slightly weird but cute girl (who can bend steel)
Trin is adopted into one of those female communities based around a local hairdresser. Socialisation and a way past those wigs.
Trin adopts a (ships) cat. Or a puppy. Or a parrot. Having a dependent to look after could widen her searches and eating habits. If it's a parrot it's traditionally piratical.
I was thinking more of her trying to get Jellyfish back through violence, even if attacking a naval base would be suicide I imagine it's much harder to actually destroy a ship on land then at sea and while a carrier might not have many guns I cant imagine being hit by something that heavy would be very good for whatever she hit.
Addressing that one idea about Trin going out on a date. . ..albeit unknowingly. I rather enjoy the thought.
Maybe that one young dude from the construction site? Cannot remember his name but he was the shy/quiet who might be the sounding board Trin was looking for here. He was said to be into computer games. Maybe he could be into more of that "nerdy" stuff like board strategy games (a la W40K). An armchair general maybe. And just because Abyssals are fighting humans will not necessarily make them a taboo for dog games and the like. We saw a lot of real wars of recent and we still have "modern" battle games of one sort or another. Just a thought.... Not sure how realistic it could be too come to pass.
Ehh, I dunno. Trinitite going on a date feels like it would be a lot more uncomfortable than funny or intriguing. Once you get past a few gags and on e, maybe two confronting perspective contrasts, it seems like it would settle into a whole lot of sore feelings and dangerous levels of compromising a fugitive's identity. Like, 5 parts dangerous, 3 parts awkward, 2 parts hurtful, and one part each funny and interesting. But I am probably in the minority in that, largely subjective, assessment.
