- Location
- scrabbling
'Tattoo' does have some usages related to rhythmic sounds, usually percussion.
All Wo-rk and No Play: An Abyssal's Trials in the Job Market (KC)
- Thread starter PyrrhicSteel
- Start date
Jonen C
F.M.D.G.
- Location
- Lincopense, Ostrogothia, Suecia
Check your privilege Nash, the Navy's been providing for ya.
At the end of the day, you've always known the Navy will provide a bunk (or at least a cot), a meal (possibly even warm) and some spending money for when you get shore leave.
Nash has never, truly, known want.
Wo has.
And Wo knows that when no one else is providing for Wo, Wo's gotta provide for herself.
And the key thing you need to provide for yourself in this world, is MONEY.
Jim Starluck
CO, ICS Vanguard
- Location
- Cincinnati, OH
Wo money, Wo problems.
Aranfan
Team Plasma Grunt
Yay! It's back!
I do like that Nashville has a lot of tension with Murray over the desire to recruit "the enemy". But frankly, Nashville can go hang here. If Saratoga can get Trinitite on board with joining the humans, that fundamentally changes the nature and course of the war. From a war of annihilation that has no diplomacy or anything like it, to one where it's possible to communicate with the enemy and talk them out of attacking. That's worth a lot of dead people, from a military calculus.
I'll be honest, I have been darkly enjoying Nashville's pain in this story. Don't have much sympathy for someone who helped coup a legitimately elected democracy into a dictatorship.
I do like that Nashville has a lot of tension with Murray over the desire to recruit "the enemy". But frankly, Nashville can go hang here. If Saratoga can get Trinitite on board with joining the humans, that fundamentally changes the nature and course of the war. From a war of annihilation that has no diplomacy or anything like it, to one where it's possible to communicate with the enemy and talk them out of attacking. That's worth a lot of dead people, from a military calculus.
I'll be honest, I have been darkly enjoying Nashville's pain in this story. Don't have much sympathy for someone who helped coup a legitimately elected democracy into a dictatorship.
- Location
- America
...what the f u c k ?
Are you talking about that mess that went on in Chile?
How the hell did she help do that shit?
Need I remind you that, while the spirits of the boats exist, they can't really do jack shit beyond just kind of existing?
She had no say whatsoever in that whole coup that went on in Chile, hell, for all intents and purposes she was an observer that couldn't do shit to affect anything one way or another!
Out of all the reasons to dislike a character, this has to be one of the most fucking baffling I've seen recently.
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- Location
- Australia
Part of me is hoping for Murray to pull out a signed "presidential decree" reinstating his position at the first stumble of the feds. "Yeah, you guys had your chance but I'm taking back control now."
Aranfan
Team Plasma Grunt
I mean, the shipgirls do seem to identify with the actions they took during their time as a steelhull. If Nashville is willing to accept the battlestars for her actions in WW2, then really, why shouldn't she also be held responsible for the bad things she did as a steelhull?
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- Location
- Newer England
Can't win em all, Trinitite. Though rereading last chapter, she also mentions accessing her Jack in the Box account at various ATMs she found along the way, which in hindsight is the sort of thing the feds would absolutely track without Trin realizing they could. Either that or we weren't giving the FBI enough credit, but I'd hope a carrier of all people would notice a drone following her around 24/7.
Assuming this crack should be 'unnoticeable' under a different light?
Meanwhile, Nash, I can see how the idea looks questionable but it's still a bit surprising she's so vehemently against USS Trinitite without any real hostile encounters with Abyssals to build the hate off. Can't help but wonder if she's thinking that accepting mook Abyssals leads down the slope to accepting Princesses (and losing Phoenix in the process).
I eagerly anticipate seeing their expressions of horror when Saratoga just walks up to Trinitite in broad daylight completely out of nowhere.
- Location
- The Land of Many Bregrets
- Pronouns
- They/Them
...Huh, have to admit I've never seen it used like that before.
Jonen C
F.M.D.G.
- Location
- Lincopense, Ostrogothia, Suecia
Military tattoo - Wikipedia
Tattoo (bugle call) - Wikipedia
Etymologically distinct from tattoo from the Samoan tatau.
Funny words.
- Location
- Italy
Nash, she plays miniature wargames. Mortgages have been opened for less.
- Location
- Chicago
- Pronouns
- She/They
Nash has 99 problems but a berth ain't one.
That doesn't follow. Being proud of her service in WW2 does not mean Nashville has to be equally proud of all actions taken by her crews over the years. Especially since she identifies as "Nashville" and not "Capitán Prat".
We've seen good ships that served the Axis, the Soviets, and the Abyssals. Even ships that served the Allies didn't always have clean hands, and even those that did have clean records were still eventually scrapped or sunk by their own navies when they were decommissioned (barring the few lucky enough to become museum ships). They aren't responsible for their crews' actions, even if some such as Bismarck still feel guilty about it. (That many of the most troubled ships were also snared by the Abyss doesn't help, making it a double whammy.)
If or when the story turns to rescuing her sister, maybe Nashville's second life in the Chilean navy will be addressed. But while there may be some humans who bear a grudge against a ship (as Bismarck's interlude mentioned), I don't think it's fair to blame her for the actions of her later crew, or deny her the right to be proud of her original service.
- Location
- From the void
Nice update, is this also in fanfiction.net?
Yes, but the copy on FFN is about a year behind the SV and SB versions (equivalent to Chapter 80 on SB/SV):
Interlude: An Agreement, a Plea, and a Plan
PyrrhicSteel
Look natural.
- Location
- Idaho
In the mountainous wilderness of southeastern Washington, the Wo-class had managed to lose them… for a respectable nine hours. The marines following her had encountered trouble when the abyssal's trail terminated in another small mountain town, and while the local police had been alerted, they'd failed to identify the abyssal… until Trinitite's bank alerted them to an ATM transaction in the small town. The local sheriff had someone tailing the Wo-class within 10 minutes of the alert, swiftly relieved by an undercover marshal, then joined by the nearby marines and a drone.
She wouldn't be slipping away this time.
Agent Ferguson had accepted the news with the smug satisfaction of an overfed cat, ignoring that unlike Murray he had almost everyone in the Pacific Northwest helping him. Nashville would be lying if she said the rapid reacquisition of the monster didn't help her mood, but things were still far too complicated for her liking. The new day didn't dull the media maelstrom, put The Navy back in charge of dealing with the enemy combatant, or make her opinions on Murray any less murky.
He had been waiting for Nashville in the hotel's lobby, a breakfast sandwich and steaming paper cup laid in front of the officer. As soon as their eyes locked, he motioned his head towards himself in a 'get over here' manner.
"When will you be available today?" He spoke as soon as the light cruiser was within earshot.
"Don't you have a bunch of meetings?" Nashville asked, her own busy schedule running through her mind.
"I'll make time." he said, voice still serious. "We need to resolve this as soon as possible."
"Oh." Nashville voiced, "Well… we aren't mustering until zero-eight…"
"After you eat, then?"
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Alright." He nodded, the paper cup only lifting halfway to his mouth. "I'll be waiting in my office, then."
Nashville found him in the same tent they'd argued in last night, the line of military-grade duct tape the only sign something was wrong with the national guard's table. He'd been facing the laptop's screen, but his eyes didn't appear to be seeing the computer in front of him. As the light cruiser stepped in, his gaze snapped to hers, the Lieutenant Commander standing.
"Before we start, let me clarify something:" he spoke, carrying his foldable chair around the table and unfolding it to face Nashville. "Recruiting Trinitite is a best case scenario, but we're not married to it. If we see any red flags, we'll trash the idea."
"We killed her family." Nashville repeated, loosely flopping into the spare chair. The objection wasn't as pointed as it had been last night.
"That might be a dealbreaker," Murray nodded, sitting as well, "but it might not. We'll see how that's affected Trinitite after she's met Saratoga. Her recommendation either way is what decides this."
"Fine." The light cruiser allowed. "I won't say I feel reassured, but this sounds less stupid than it did last night."
"Good." He said, before sighing. "I need that skepticism, Nash."
"Oh." She hadn't been expecting the backhanded comment to be received so well. "I guess it's the least I can do."
"It's a lot." The Lieutenant Commander insisted. "You've been a big help. I know it isn't much more than another human could do, but your perspective as a ship has been invaluable."
"That's good to know." Nashville tried to accept the compliment, but she knew she failed to demonstrate any enthusiasm. The fact she was helping didn't make this disaster any better. At least she was pretty certain Murray had meant what he said. Sure, it was inspired by last night's… incident, but he had said similar things along those lines before.
"Nashville…" Murray started again, and the light cruiser realized she'd been looking at her lap. "Between us and the Chilean Navy, you've had 45 years of service, right?"
She looked up sharply, concerned. There was something in his voice she didn't recognize.
"41, ignoring the time I was inactive."
"Okay." Murray nodded, pausing to take a heavy breath. "That means you've seen your fair share of leaders, right?"
"That's true."
"Some good, some bad?"
"Of course."
The intelligence officer's face was as inscrutable as ever, but his gaze failed to meet hers, lingering on the tent's fabric floor.
"Well…" He started, paused, then spoke up again. "Nashville, I know I'm not a stellar leader. All this time, I've been thinking like an analyst, focusing on Trinitite, but I think I forgot I'm not just an analyst anymore."
Nashville took a moment to mull over the admission, eyes studying Murray. On the surface, he remained stoic, but in the set of his jaw and shifting of his eyes…
"Sir… I broke the table."
Murray nodded non committedly.
"Yes, but a better commander would have seen a situation like that coming and addressed your concerns a lot sooner." The spook sat up, rubbing his forehead. "Things have been stressful, and I know we all need some leave, but… Nash, if there's anything I can be doing better, could you tell me?"
For a moment, Nashville was rendered speechless. This… this hadn't been where she'd been expecting the conversation to go. It wasn't unheard of for a commanding officer to ask for critiques from their XO, sure. It was expected the CO would listen to their second's criticism, even unsolicited, as long as it was in private. Being this straightforward, however, wasn't something she expected from The Spook.
The light cruiser frowned. Maybe that was the problem.
"I just… don't get you, Sir."
Murray's brow furrowed, and his gaze finally met hers.
"What do you mean?"
"Well… Nobody in this unit knows you, sir." Nashville started.
Murray's eyes widened, his mask cracking as his head leaned away from the cruiser.
"...What?"
"You're completely unreadable." Nashville pressed on. "I know you've had some bad relationships, I know you're into psychology and cults and stuff, but I don't know much more about you than that."
Nashville waited for a second for Murray's reply. His mouth worked over some words, but they must not have been for her because he remained silent.
"I mean, I understand professional distance, but…" Was she going too far? Would it be worse if she didn't go far enough? "...you're far beyond that. A sailor needs to know his commander enough to trust he's got his back."
Part of her thought getting this off her deck would feel freeing, but the worry she was tearing apart what working relationship they had was overwhelming any release of tension she was getting.
"Oh? Oh…" If his mask wasn't broken, the sudden dawning of horror shattered it now. "You don't think I've been-"
"I haven't forgotten the stuff you have done for me!" Nashville corrected, waving her hand. "It's just- that poker face is good for rats like Ferguson, but with it pointed at me, I can't help but start wondering, you know?"
"Okay." He nodded, his folding chair creaking as he leaned back it. "...shit."
He didn't say anything for another moment, the light from the rising sun shifting as a breeze tugged at the tent's walls.
"Well," He spoke again, "thank you for bringing this to my attention, Nashville. This…" He waved his hand in front of his face. "...is habit. I'll work on it. I know it's not the only thing I'm screwing up either, but it's a place to start. I'll try to be a bit more informal with you all, keep you better informed on what's going on."
"More informed?" Nashville asked. She hadn't complained about that, had she?
"Yeah." The Lieutenant Commander "If you'd heard about our change in objective as soon as the admiral decided it, then a lot of grief could have been avoided."
"We all make mistakes, sir." She reassured. "I've seen several officers who couldn't admit they misstepped like that, so they never get better."
"We'll see about 'getting better.'" Murray quoted, a thin smile developing on his lips. "If you've got any other problems, or if I start getting too… spooky again, let me know, alright?"
'Spooky?' As in… oh, right. Nashville's chuckle was subdued and delayed, but it was genuine.
"Sure thing, sir." The light cruiser acknowledged. "I still think this plan is stupid, though."
"Good thing you'll be there to clean up after me, then." Murray replied, taking the criticism with a shrug. "I think those judo lessons would be pretty useful, as well…"
- - -
Nashville sighed, tucking an errant strand of hair back under her NWU cover. The wind, blowing through the trees and funneled down the road by rows of suburban houses, immediately attempted to free the hair again, but the light cruiser guessed the weather would have to work a few more minutes before it freed the rebellious strand. The car she was leaning against wasn't the rental she'd had to drive to the airport. That vehicle was a few yards away, tucked into the curb directly in front of the Martin-Campos' house.
For someone who'd only gotten their driver's license a few weeks ago, Nashville thought she parked pretty good.
"It's gotta be Lord of the Rings." The man to her right pronounced, his voice reinforced with confidence.
"I'm not so sure." The man on her other side dithered. "I mean, it's good, but if you're trying to catch up on decades of films in one night, you're gonna want some variety, right?"
She hadn't told them anything initially, but the two police officers in charge of guarding the Martin-Campos house had caught on to her identity as a shipgirl quickly - the bold 'NASHVILLE' embroidered above her breast pocket probably helped - and had been eager to strike up a conversation. She'd indulged them, content to let them lead the conversation until it sailed into the topic of movies- specifically, how few she'd seen, and which one she should show her sisters next time they met.
"Isn't Lord of the Rings from the sixties?" Nashville asked, vague memories of a spanish-subbed VHS that had once graced her wardroom. "I mean- I know it's a book, but-"
"Oh, they made another one in the nineties!" The enthusiastic cop interjected. "Three movies, live action, hundreds of extras! It's an epoch everyone should see at least once!"
"It's also six hours or something, right?" The other officer questioned. "She's probably only got a day or two with her sisters, they can't dedicate that much time to a movie."
It was Black Friday. Murray had given half of the division, including Nashville, liberty for Thanksgiving. She'd been supposed to run the division today while the other half took it easy, but Saratoga's unexpected arrival derailed things. Murray had elected to hold the fort in Nashville's stead, despite the light cruiser's protests, so she could give the former abyssal princess transport around town.
So far, the day had been the closest she'd come to enjoying herself since Katie's text kicked off this shitshow. Between the spook's argument that Nashville should get a more unfiltered impression of Trinitite's target, and his promise to take some time off later, the Brooklyn-class didn't feel much guilt about leaving her comrades. Sara herself had been… distant. Polite, and more than willing to engage in some small talk, but the majority of her thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
That was fine by Nashville. She had plenty to think about as well.
"Fine, then. What would you suggest?" The enthusiastic officer accused his partner.
"I dunno…" The other officer shrugged, turning his attention to Nashville. "What kind of movies do you like?"
The light cruiser shrugged.
"That's not very helpful."
"Well…" She started. "I think one of my sisters would like a political thriller."
"I'll have to think about that…" The officer frowned. "Anything else?"
Nashville hummed, struggling to review the slightly-faded memories of movies her crew had played on her in the past. The thoughts roved to more modern media she'd seen in passing, followed by…
"A romance could be nice." She finally mused. Maybe there would be hints hidden in the writing about what she was screwing up in her nights on the town.
The more subdued officer hummed thoughtfully.
"You remember eighties movies, right?"
Nashville nodded. It was at the end of her time in the Chilean navy, but her wardroom had seen plenty of cheesy action flicks. She didn't remember any of them all that distinctly, but…
"True Lies."
"What the hell?" The other cop shouted. "You have three decades of cinema to pick from, and you recommend James Cameron's worst film? What's wrong with you?"
"It's funny." The officer shrugged, failing to conceal the smirk on his face. "It's also kind of a thriller."
The bickering between the two police officers continued, but when the door to the Martin-Campos's house opened, Nashville immediately stopped following it. Saratoga emerged, the carrier hesitating at the end of the porch before stepping onto the footpath leading across the lawn.
"Well," Nashville interrupted the two police officers, "it looks like I'll be leaving."
"Sure does." The second officer agreed. "Enjoy the film."
As Nashville stepped away from the police car, she turned, giving the officer a mischievous smile.
"True Lies, right?"
"No!" The other officer's shout of horror overwhelmed anything his partner was planning on saying. "Watch Inception or something!"
Nashville didn't reply, waving over her shoulder as she walked away. She met the carrier about halfway down the sidewalk, the two shipgirls setting parallel courses towards the rental vehicle.
"Making friends?" Saratoga chimed.
"Needed advice." The light cruiser explained, holding the rental's door open for the carrier.
"Don't we all…"
Ah. The meeting didn't go so well, then.
Nashville entered the car and started it, only to pause. Where to now?
"Want something to eat?"
"That sounds nice." Saratoga agreed.
"I don't know the area very well." The light cruiser warned. "You'll have to navigate."
"Let's just wonder for a bit." The carrier suggested. "See if we pass anything interesting."
So they did. The first couple of minutes were spent in silence, the carrier lost in thought as Nashville weaved the vehicle through the suburb. There
Eventually, Nashville had to say something to fill the silence.
"How's the kid?"
She didn't have anything against Alex Martin-Campos. They'd met a couple times this week already, and the impression Nashville had gotten was of a pretty typical nineteen-year-old, infatuated with a woman and hormone-blind to even the most obvious of red flags. That he'd keep defending the monster his love had turned out to be was no surprise to Nashville. The ship had seen enough poor decisions made by horny sailors in port calls to know such thinking wasn't out of the ordinary. The kid certainly didn't deserve the public ire directed at him.
"Oh, you mean Alex?" Saratoga's question made Nashville realize several seconds had passed.
"Yeah." Nashville clarified. Who else could she mean?
"He's… a good kid." Saratoga replied. "I think he'll become a great man."
With her focus on the road, Nashville couldn't read her passenger's expression. That complicated trying to decipher the emotions behind her voice.
"He showed Trinitite a side of humanity she never had a chance to see before." The former princess continued, her voice hardening slightly. "In that, I think he did more good for Trinitite than anyone else has."
'Anyone else…' Nashville felt an accusation in those words, but it wasn't directed at her. She'd read all of Saratoga's reports: Nashville knew that the former princess regretted her treatment of her abyssal underlings, but hearing the regret in the former abyssal's voice suddenly hammered that point far deeper than all her reading had.
What could she say to that? Tell her the Jellyfish princess wasn't that bad? Nashville hummed noncommittally as she pulled the car onto a main road, lush lawns and idyllic housing giving way to worn parking lots and squat businesses. Looking to get the conversation on a better track, Nashville hurriedly rewound it in her head, searching for a more positive heading to take.
Given everything that had happened this week, however, it was probably no surprise that she failed.
"Think we can get her to come in peacefully?"
As far as new perspectives went, Saratoga probably wasn't going to be very unique. Her potentially-misguided sympathy towards the abyssal had been evident in her written reports, and her conversations with the Lieutenant Commander probably factored into Murray's new 'recruit the eldritch abomination' scheme. Still, as a fellow shipgirl and ww2 vet, perhaps she could put things in a way that felt less insane.
"Yes."
The one-word assertion came so quickly, and with so much conviction, that it left Nashville momentarily speechless. It took the new driver half a second to realize the light she'd stopped at had turned green, the rental car accelerating a little too quickly as she got back up to speed.
"You seem pretty confident." Nashville commented.
"I'm not." The carrier admitted. "I'm terrified."
Nashville's response was automatic and unconscious.
"What?"
There was another moment of silence. When the aircraft carrier spoke again, it was with a false nonchalance that set a nervous spike down Nashville's keel.
"That place looks nice."
"Which one?" The light cruiser asked, trying to match Saratoga's casual tone.
"On the right."
"Oh!"
The car swerved abruptly as Nashville realized she was about to miss the last turn into the mall Saratoga was referring to. The light cruiser felt the hard 35-to-5 deceleration and a moment of fear that she was about to get rammed by the car behind her, but she ended up in the well-worn parking lot without incident.
"I'm really sorry about that." The Brooklyn-class apologized as she carefully steered the vehicle into a parking spot. "I just got this license, and-"
As soon as the car went into park, a hand clamped onto her shoulder, a battlecruiser's strength suddenly keeping Nashville in her seat. She jerked in shock, looking over to her passenger's stern visage.
"Nashville." The carrier started, rangefinders staring through her driver. "There's so much that can go wrong!"
Nashville would be lying if she said she wasn't intimidated. When Saratoga spoke, however, the glint of moisture gathering at the edges of her eyes revealed the carrier's intention to be distinct from coercion.
"Trinitite's had such a hard life." The carrier continued. "The poor girl's been raised on little more than neglect and war, but she's still been far better to every human she's met then we could ever hope.
"I don't know how it is for cruisers, but going this long without any fleet to rely on is beyond terrifying for a carrier." Saratoga continued, the intensity in her gaze slacking. "It's been months, Nashville, and she's already broken down once. Without Alex, I bet it would have been a lot worse."
A tear escaped one of the former princess's rangefinders, leaving a subtle trail on her cheek as it fled to her chin.
"Now, she's got everyone in the country out for her head, and most people are too afraid of her to see her for the terrified girl she is. I know Murray's trying for a happy ending, but… but he might not be enough."
Nashville couldn't speak, the frustration and desperation that had come so easily against the Lieutenant Commander completely silent here. Unbidden, her thoughts drifted to Furgeson's plan of scooping the abyssal up as soon as possible. And with dawning terror she realized just how terribly that could go. Yes, she knew the practical problems, bit if Trinitite mentally broke when they cornered her…
Shangri La had talked about something similar before, right? Why hadn't she really thought about it before?
"I can't even do anything about it." The carrier released her grip, withdrawing a handkerchief from her hold to dab at her rangefinders. "If this princess thing was just my secret, I'd reveal it in a heartbeat to help her, but I can't hurt Naka and the others like that."
The light cruiser nodded dumbly. The reputation of 'Sister Sara' was widely known amongst the fleet: while Big E kept a polite distance from pretty much everyone, the converted battlecruiser's doting feelings towards her 'daughters' were no secret. If she felt this way about all of the Essexes… were they just as open about accepting the Wo-class into the family? The conversations she'd had with Shangri-La implied as much, she guessed.
Saratoga's hands shot forward, clasping Nashville's own.
"Please, Nashville. Don't let them kill my daughter." She pleaded, her hull shaking abruptly as she suppressed a sob. "Promise that you'll do everything in your power to ensure she can live a good life after all this. Not as some experiment, but as a real girl, with a real second chance, like what all of us have gotten."
Words continued to evade Nashville. On one hand, Saratoga's request was completely unreasonable. An enemy aircraft carrier wasn't exactly the kind of enemy you could afford to wear kid gloves with. On top of that, she wasn't in charge of catching Trinitite: Agent Furgeson was, and while Nashville had resolved to use her newfound agency to disobey any stupid orders, she had control over the army of law enforcement Furgeson was gathering, or whatever the legal system decided to do after she'd been bagged. Damnit, hadn't Murray just ordered her to remain skeptical, checking his plans on getting Trinitite onto their side?
On the other hand, however…
"Nashville, please." Saratoga begged. "Trin deserves to live without fearing for her safety, or being separated from the people she loves."
It was stupid. She shouldn't be so easily swayed by a couple of tears and emotional words. The light cruiser was still coming to grips with the 180-degree turn everyone had made between 'keeping them separate' and 'bringing them together.'
But… Nashville couldn't say 'no.' Saratoga had no reason to fake any of her feelings behind her plea. Nashville had no idea what being corrupted by the abyss must have been like for her, or how reliable those memories of her old life were, but Nashville knew Saratoga hated almost everything about her former self. That she still supported the Wo-class, considered her a daughter like all the other Essexes… that meant something.
"You think she loved Alex?" Nashville floated.
"Absolutely." The carrier asserted. "I can't watch that video and come to any other conclusion."
The light cruiser sighed, regretting her words even before she voiced them.
"I'll… do everything in my power to get Trinitite in safely." She promised, the enormity of the promise already a great weight settling on her keel. "I might not succeed, but I'll try."
"That's all I can ask." The light cruiser smiled, cheeks glinting. "Thank you, Nashville."
Nashville refused to forget that Trinitite was an enemy combatant. No matter what Murray and Saratoga thought, the Wo-class definitely saw them as enemies, and the abyssal got a vote in how any encounter played out. She hadn't hesitated to take hostages or threaten other civilians in the past, and Nashville had to assume she'd do so again in a heartbeat.
That being said…
The light cruiser glanced back at Saratoga, the carrier taking a moment to gather herself, and quietly cursed her own lack of resolve.
Now she had to try, damnit.
- - -
Nashville had continued to chauffeur Saratoga around Chehalis for the rest of the week, mostly to the Martin-Campos house and back to Saratoga's motel room. Surprisingly, Nashville found the experience oddly relaxing. In a way, it was closer to what she was built for: escorting a capital ship around town wasn't exactly what she wanted to be doing, but she understood it, at least.
The drives with Saratoga were much more pleasant then her time off, at least. Despite the fact she didn't publicly exist yet, it seemed everyone in Chehalis had realized she was a shipgirl. While on liberty alone she was constantly being approached by random civilians asking questions she wasn't allowed to answer. Alone in her hotel room, she couldn't focus on mindless television, and the news…
Even over a week later, the news was apocalyptic. The video of Trinitite's landfall had made it to mainstream television now, playing on repeat behind hundreds of talking heads. Interviews with everyone Trinitite ever stood in the same room with (barring the Martin-Campos family, oddly). All kinds of dirty laundry was getting aired: The abyssal had played abyssals in those board games she'd been in. The abyssal had used the streamlined asylum system to obtain a false identity. The abyssal had been getting sexually harassed by a coworker.
Interviews with 'Experts' and 'Analysts' were a constant, alternating between speculation on what the abyssal's motives were and where she might 'strike' next.
Worst of all were the pundits.
How did the Navy allow an abyssal to take a fishing boat hostage? How had the Navy and the Coast Guard allowed her to reach shore afterwards? Why had they been content to sit back and silently watch while she'd infiltrated human society? Why was all of this kept secret? How many Americans had the government put at risk by allowing the monster to roam free? Had they lost her after the Chehalis Incident?
Who the hell was in charge of this mess?
Of course, the talking heads already had answers to the majority of these questions. The vast, overwhelming majority of them weren't right, but it was obvious to Nashville correct information wasn't their purpose. She hadn't put the research into the current political situation to figure out the agendas behind all the… assertions she kept hearing, but frankly she didn't have time to figure it out. Yellow journalism was alive and well.
With Trinitite rapidly approaching the Oregon border, everyone else on the team had also left. The civilians had set up somewhere in Portland, Murray's division was back in Everett, and the national guard had left to dig foxholes, or something. That unfortunately meant Nashville had no busywork to lose herself in, either. With no secured communication equipment, she couldn't even ask for updates!
So, the nights up until Saratoga flew back to Japan were normally spent on her hotel room's bed, staring through the ceiling until dreamless sleep took her. Nashville didn't dislike Saratoga, but when she dropped the carrier off at the Chehalis airport, she couldn't have been happier to get out of this accursed valley.
Rejoining Murray's division had been an improvement. She had reports on the Wo-class's progress to focus on, and could go out in public without immediately being recognized as someone tied to this fiasco. The fact they were hundreds of miles away from the Wo-class wasn't being ignored… officially. Murray seemed to buy the story that it was taking the feds time to clear Portland office space for the Navy, but Nashville didn't. It wasn't until the Wo-Class was well south of Portland when they'd finally 'found space,' which was why Murray's division had been packing when Agent Peters had paid them a visit.
Now, Peters was storming away, leaving Murray and Nashville alone in his office.
"Well…" the Spook broke the silence. "It looks like I was wrong about reassigning you, Nash."
"Yeah." The light cruiser agreed, her thoughts turning to more practical concerns. "It won't be much, but it'll be nice to be out to sea again. I'll need the model of Lady Gollerus's radar and its height to stay out of sight when I'm shadowing her."
"That kind of thing is ONI's specialty." The Spook's boast was delivered as flatly as everything he said, but his lips did widen, slightly. "We'll get that for you."
The hint of a smile disappeared as he turned his attention back to planning. "We can probably get an air station or two's alert birds to back you up if something goes wrong as well."
"That would be appreciated," Nashville nodded, "what kind of response time will I get?"
"Depends on how far out the Lady goes." The Lieutenant Commander mused. "Worst case, they could run out as far as the Lilly did, and it could take more than two hours for the calvary to arrive."
Nashville nodded. A lot could happen in two hours, but that was better than she was expecting.
"I'm also worried about the submarine threat, but…" Murray continued, scratching his cleanly-shaven chin.
"Getting a DE from the fleet would be easier than a battleship."
"I hope so," The spook frowned. "but convoys aren't getting enough protection as it is. I think I'll need your help with the request."
"My help?"
"This is a surface warfare question." The intelligence officer clarified. "Your expertise here goes farther than mine."
"An Ensign's word doesn't go very far at all."
"That's true, but you're still a shipgirl. That has weight."
The light cruiser couldn't think of a response to that.
"Then," Murray continued with a sigh, "there's the other problem."
"The fat guy?"
Murray grimaced.
"Ferguson wants to resolve this as soon as possible." He stated. "If we keep stonewalling him like this, he's going to try to find a way around us."
"What's he gonna do about it?"
"I… don't know." The Spook admitted. "I don't think it would end well, though. I'd like to think that the Malheur situation a couple years back showed that they'd grown past Waco, but…"
Nashville swallowed. She didn't know anything about Waco, but his tone implied some spectacular disaster. Something along the lines of the Feds trying to take on an abyssal without military support. Yeah, you could kill an abyssal with IEDs, incendiaries, or a persistent-enough bombardment, but they needed her alive. If they asked her to come with them and she said 'no', what would happen then?
Calling the situation 'ugly' would be an understatement of almost British magnitude.
"So," the light cruiser started, "we gotta have something that makes Furgeson feel like he's making progress, but gives us the time we need for Trinitite to calm down, right?"
"Right." Murray nodded.
A moment passed. Another. Nashville knew they were supposed to be spitballing ideas, here, the CO and XO using each other as sounding boards until some solution revealed itself, but Nashville couldn't even think of any bad ways to delay the FBI.
What could they do?
…damnit, light cruisers weren't meant for this kind of thing! Nashville had been built to screen larger capital ships, hunt destroyers, go toe-to-toe with other cruisers, act independently, and transporting-
…Hold on…
"I think I have an idea."
It… might be incredibly stupid, and a lot of people would frown on it, but if she squinted, and ignored the political fallout, and suppressed her common sense, she could actually see it working! Plus, it was something only she could do!
It was a dumb, selfish, intoxicating line of reasoning, and one she should be ashamed of, but in the moment the light cruiser couldn't help but bask in the sudden euphoria of agency.
"What is it?"
Murray's quizzical expression- an unexpected departure from his unbreakable poker face- came at the worst possible time. Nashville couldn't help herself. She leaned forwards slightly, channeling as much of her inner Brooklyn as she could muster as she tried to imitate her sister's teasing, self-confident lilt.
"You can guess, I'm sure~"
Murray didn't seem particularly amused, but that only encouraged Nashville's mischievous mood. See how it feels, Brad?
Still, holding secrets for no reason wasn't in the light cruiser's nature, so before her superior officer pressed further Nashville spoke again.
"Well, I have to mull it over a bit. Could you let me sleep on it? I want to make sure it isn't too dumb before I propose anything."
The spook didn't seem too mollified, but he nodded.
"I don't see any more reason to keep you here, then." Murray returned to the work he'd been doing before Agent Peters's visit. "Glad to have your perspective, Nash."
"Glad to help." The shipgirl replied, recognizing the dismissal. As she left the office to help their division finish packing, her attention didn't stray far from that flash of inspiration and hope. It would take at least another month with no incident before she was comfortable with initiating her little idea, but that was fine.
The more Trinitite got entrenched in this new life before she sprung into action, the more likely this was to work out, after all. She had long tired of waiting, but Nashville liked to believe she could be patient.
Now she just needed to figure out how to get everyone on board. This scheme didn't take much less time than Murray's plan, but hopefully presenting the civilians with an idea of what they were going to do once the time was right would convince them to slow down a bit. The Lieutenant Commander would be easiest to convince, sure, but his support early on would sabotage his chances with winning over the pettier civilians on the team…
…and thus, the Light Cruiser began to scheme.
She wouldn't be slipping away this time.
Agent Ferguson had accepted the news with the smug satisfaction of an overfed cat, ignoring that unlike Murray he had almost everyone in the Pacific Northwest helping him. Nashville would be lying if she said the rapid reacquisition of the monster didn't help her mood, but things were still far too complicated for her liking. The new day didn't dull the media maelstrom, put The Navy back in charge of dealing with the enemy combatant, or make her opinions on Murray any less murky.
He had been waiting for Nashville in the hotel's lobby, a breakfast sandwich and steaming paper cup laid in front of the officer. As soon as their eyes locked, he motioned his head towards himself in a 'get over here' manner.
"When will you be available today?" He spoke as soon as the light cruiser was within earshot.
"Don't you have a bunch of meetings?" Nashville asked, her own busy schedule running through her mind.
"I'll make time." he said, voice still serious. "We need to resolve this as soon as possible."
"Oh." Nashville voiced, "Well… we aren't mustering until zero-eight…"
"After you eat, then?"
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Alright." He nodded, the paper cup only lifting halfway to his mouth. "I'll be waiting in my office, then."
Nashville found him in the same tent they'd argued in last night, the line of military-grade duct tape the only sign something was wrong with the national guard's table. He'd been facing the laptop's screen, but his eyes didn't appear to be seeing the computer in front of him. As the light cruiser stepped in, his gaze snapped to hers, the Lieutenant Commander standing.
"Before we start, let me clarify something:" he spoke, carrying his foldable chair around the table and unfolding it to face Nashville. "Recruiting Trinitite is a best case scenario, but we're not married to it. If we see any red flags, we'll trash the idea."
"We killed her family." Nashville repeated, loosely flopping into the spare chair. The objection wasn't as pointed as it had been last night.
"That might be a dealbreaker," Murray nodded, sitting as well, "but it might not. We'll see how that's affected Trinitite after she's met Saratoga. Her recommendation either way is what decides this."
"Fine." The light cruiser allowed. "I won't say I feel reassured, but this sounds less stupid than it did last night."
"Good." He said, before sighing. "I need that skepticism, Nash."
"Oh." She hadn't been expecting the backhanded comment to be received so well. "I guess it's the least I can do."
"It's a lot." The Lieutenant Commander insisted. "You've been a big help. I know it isn't much more than another human could do, but your perspective as a ship has been invaluable."
"That's good to know." Nashville tried to accept the compliment, but she knew she failed to demonstrate any enthusiasm. The fact she was helping didn't make this disaster any better. At least she was pretty certain Murray had meant what he said. Sure, it was inspired by last night's… incident, but he had said similar things along those lines before.
"Nashville…" Murray started again, and the light cruiser realized she'd been looking at her lap. "Between us and the Chilean Navy, you've had 45 years of service, right?"
She looked up sharply, concerned. There was something in his voice she didn't recognize.
"41, ignoring the time I was inactive."
"Okay." Murray nodded, pausing to take a heavy breath. "That means you've seen your fair share of leaders, right?"
"That's true."
"Some good, some bad?"
"Of course."
The intelligence officer's face was as inscrutable as ever, but his gaze failed to meet hers, lingering on the tent's fabric floor.
"Well…" He started, paused, then spoke up again. "Nashville, I know I'm not a stellar leader. All this time, I've been thinking like an analyst, focusing on Trinitite, but I think I forgot I'm not just an analyst anymore."
Nashville took a moment to mull over the admission, eyes studying Murray. On the surface, he remained stoic, but in the set of his jaw and shifting of his eyes…
"Sir… I broke the table."
Murray nodded non committedly.
"Yes, but a better commander would have seen a situation like that coming and addressed your concerns a lot sooner." The spook sat up, rubbing his forehead. "Things have been stressful, and I know we all need some leave, but… Nash, if there's anything I can be doing better, could you tell me?"
For a moment, Nashville was rendered speechless. This… this hadn't been where she'd been expecting the conversation to go. It wasn't unheard of for a commanding officer to ask for critiques from their XO, sure. It was expected the CO would listen to their second's criticism, even unsolicited, as long as it was in private. Being this straightforward, however, wasn't something she expected from The Spook.
The light cruiser frowned. Maybe that was the problem.
"I just… don't get you, Sir."
Murray's brow furrowed, and his gaze finally met hers.
"What do you mean?"
"Well… Nobody in this unit knows you, sir." Nashville started.
Murray's eyes widened, his mask cracking as his head leaned away from the cruiser.
"...What?"
"You're completely unreadable." Nashville pressed on. "I know you've had some bad relationships, I know you're into psychology and cults and stuff, but I don't know much more about you than that."
Nashville waited for a second for Murray's reply. His mouth worked over some words, but they must not have been for her because he remained silent.
"I mean, I understand professional distance, but…" Was she going too far? Would it be worse if she didn't go far enough? "...you're far beyond that. A sailor needs to know his commander enough to trust he's got his back."
Part of her thought getting this off her deck would feel freeing, but the worry she was tearing apart what working relationship they had was overwhelming any release of tension she was getting.
"Oh? Oh…" If his mask wasn't broken, the sudden dawning of horror shattered it now. "You don't think I've been-"
"I haven't forgotten the stuff you have done for me!" Nashville corrected, waving her hand. "It's just- that poker face is good for rats like Ferguson, but with it pointed at me, I can't help but start wondering, you know?"
"Okay." He nodded, his folding chair creaking as he leaned back it. "...shit."
He didn't say anything for another moment, the light from the rising sun shifting as a breeze tugged at the tent's walls.
"Well," He spoke again, "thank you for bringing this to my attention, Nashville. This…" He waved his hand in front of his face. "...is habit. I'll work on it. I know it's not the only thing I'm screwing up either, but it's a place to start. I'll try to be a bit more informal with you all, keep you better informed on what's going on."
"More informed?" Nashville asked. She hadn't complained about that, had she?
"Yeah." The Lieutenant Commander "If you'd heard about our change in objective as soon as the admiral decided it, then a lot of grief could have been avoided."
"We all make mistakes, sir." She reassured. "I've seen several officers who couldn't admit they misstepped like that, so they never get better."
"We'll see about 'getting better.'" Murray quoted, a thin smile developing on his lips. "If you've got any other problems, or if I start getting too… spooky again, let me know, alright?"
'Spooky?' As in… oh, right. Nashville's chuckle was subdued and delayed, but it was genuine.
"Sure thing, sir." The light cruiser acknowledged. "I still think this plan is stupid, though."
"Good thing you'll be there to clean up after me, then." Murray replied, taking the criticism with a shrug. "I think those judo lessons would be pretty useful, as well…"
- - -
Nashville sighed, tucking an errant strand of hair back under her NWU cover. The wind, blowing through the trees and funneled down the road by rows of suburban houses, immediately attempted to free the hair again, but the light cruiser guessed the weather would have to work a few more minutes before it freed the rebellious strand. The car she was leaning against wasn't the rental she'd had to drive to the airport. That vehicle was a few yards away, tucked into the curb directly in front of the Martin-Campos' house.
For someone who'd only gotten their driver's license a few weeks ago, Nashville thought she parked pretty good.
"It's gotta be Lord of the Rings." The man to her right pronounced, his voice reinforced with confidence.
"I'm not so sure." The man on her other side dithered. "I mean, it's good, but if you're trying to catch up on decades of films in one night, you're gonna want some variety, right?"
She hadn't told them anything initially, but the two police officers in charge of guarding the Martin-Campos house had caught on to her identity as a shipgirl quickly - the bold 'NASHVILLE' embroidered above her breast pocket probably helped - and had been eager to strike up a conversation. She'd indulged them, content to let them lead the conversation until it sailed into the topic of movies- specifically, how few she'd seen, and which one she should show her sisters next time they met.
"Isn't Lord of the Rings from the sixties?" Nashville asked, vague memories of a spanish-subbed VHS that had once graced her wardroom. "I mean- I know it's a book, but-"
"Oh, they made another one in the nineties!" The enthusiastic cop interjected. "Three movies, live action, hundreds of extras! It's an epoch everyone should see at least once!"
"It's also six hours or something, right?" The other officer questioned. "She's probably only got a day or two with her sisters, they can't dedicate that much time to a movie."
It was Black Friday. Murray had given half of the division, including Nashville, liberty for Thanksgiving. She'd been supposed to run the division today while the other half took it easy, but Saratoga's unexpected arrival derailed things. Murray had elected to hold the fort in Nashville's stead, despite the light cruiser's protests, so she could give the former abyssal princess transport around town.
So far, the day had been the closest she'd come to enjoying herself since Katie's text kicked off this shitshow. Between the spook's argument that Nashville should get a more unfiltered impression of Trinitite's target, and his promise to take some time off later, the Brooklyn-class didn't feel much guilt about leaving her comrades. Sara herself had been… distant. Polite, and more than willing to engage in some small talk, but the majority of her thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
That was fine by Nashville. She had plenty to think about as well.
"Fine, then. What would you suggest?" The enthusiastic officer accused his partner.
"I dunno…" The other officer shrugged, turning his attention to Nashville. "What kind of movies do you like?"
The light cruiser shrugged.
"That's not very helpful."
"Well…" She started. "I think one of my sisters would like a political thriller."
"I'll have to think about that…" The officer frowned. "Anything else?"
Nashville hummed, struggling to review the slightly-faded memories of movies her crew had played on her in the past. The thoughts roved to more modern media she'd seen in passing, followed by…
"A romance could be nice." She finally mused. Maybe there would be hints hidden in the writing about what she was screwing up in her nights on the town.
The more subdued officer hummed thoughtfully.
"You remember eighties movies, right?"
Nashville nodded. It was at the end of her time in the Chilean navy, but her wardroom had seen plenty of cheesy action flicks. She didn't remember any of them all that distinctly, but…
"True Lies."
"What the hell?" The other cop shouted. "You have three decades of cinema to pick from, and you recommend James Cameron's worst film? What's wrong with you?"
"It's funny." The officer shrugged, failing to conceal the smirk on his face. "It's also kind of a thriller."
The bickering between the two police officers continued, but when the door to the Martin-Campos's house opened, Nashville immediately stopped following it. Saratoga emerged, the carrier hesitating at the end of the porch before stepping onto the footpath leading across the lawn.
"Well," Nashville interrupted the two police officers, "it looks like I'll be leaving."
"Sure does." The second officer agreed. "Enjoy the film."
As Nashville stepped away from the police car, she turned, giving the officer a mischievous smile.
"True Lies, right?"
"No!" The other officer's shout of horror overwhelmed anything his partner was planning on saying. "Watch Inception or something!"
Nashville didn't reply, waving over her shoulder as she walked away. She met the carrier about halfway down the sidewalk, the two shipgirls setting parallel courses towards the rental vehicle.
"Making friends?" Saratoga chimed.
"Needed advice." The light cruiser explained, holding the rental's door open for the carrier.
"Don't we all…"
Ah. The meeting didn't go so well, then.
Nashville entered the car and started it, only to pause. Where to now?
"Want something to eat?"
"That sounds nice." Saratoga agreed.
"I don't know the area very well." The light cruiser warned. "You'll have to navigate."
"Let's just wonder for a bit." The carrier suggested. "See if we pass anything interesting."
So they did. The first couple of minutes were spent in silence, the carrier lost in thought as Nashville weaved the vehicle through the suburb. There
Eventually, Nashville had to say something to fill the silence.
"How's the kid?"
She didn't have anything against Alex Martin-Campos. They'd met a couple times this week already, and the impression Nashville had gotten was of a pretty typical nineteen-year-old, infatuated with a woman and hormone-blind to even the most obvious of red flags. That he'd keep defending the monster his love had turned out to be was no surprise to Nashville. The ship had seen enough poor decisions made by horny sailors in port calls to know such thinking wasn't out of the ordinary. The kid certainly didn't deserve the public ire directed at him.
"Oh, you mean Alex?" Saratoga's question made Nashville realize several seconds had passed.
"Yeah." Nashville clarified. Who else could she mean?
"He's… a good kid." Saratoga replied. "I think he'll become a great man."
With her focus on the road, Nashville couldn't read her passenger's expression. That complicated trying to decipher the emotions behind her voice.
"He showed Trinitite a side of humanity she never had a chance to see before." The former princess continued, her voice hardening slightly. "In that, I think he did more good for Trinitite than anyone else has."
'Anyone else…' Nashville felt an accusation in those words, but it wasn't directed at her. She'd read all of Saratoga's reports: Nashville knew that the former princess regretted her treatment of her abyssal underlings, but hearing the regret in the former abyssal's voice suddenly hammered that point far deeper than all her reading had.
What could she say to that? Tell her the Jellyfish princess wasn't that bad? Nashville hummed noncommittally as she pulled the car onto a main road, lush lawns and idyllic housing giving way to worn parking lots and squat businesses. Looking to get the conversation on a better track, Nashville hurriedly rewound it in her head, searching for a more positive heading to take.
Given everything that had happened this week, however, it was probably no surprise that she failed.
"Think we can get her to come in peacefully?"
As far as new perspectives went, Saratoga probably wasn't going to be very unique. Her potentially-misguided sympathy towards the abyssal had been evident in her written reports, and her conversations with the Lieutenant Commander probably factored into Murray's new 'recruit the eldritch abomination' scheme. Still, as a fellow shipgirl and ww2 vet, perhaps she could put things in a way that felt less insane.
"Yes."
The one-word assertion came so quickly, and with so much conviction, that it left Nashville momentarily speechless. It took the new driver half a second to realize the light she'd stopped at had turned green, the rental car accelerating a little too quickly as she got back up to speed.
"You seem pretty confident." Nashville commented.
"I'm not." The carrier admitted. "I'm terrified."
Nashville's response was automatic and unconscious.
"What?"
There was another moment of silence. When the aircraft carrier spoke again, it was with a false nonchalance that set a nervous spike down Nashville's keel.
"That place looks nice."
"Which one?" The light cruiser asked, trying to match Saratoga's casual tone.
"On the right."
"Oh!"
The car swerved abruptly as Nashville realized she was about to miss the last turn into the mall Saratoga was referring to. The light cruiser felt the hard 35-to-5 deceleration and a moment of fear that she was about to get rammed by the car behind her, but she ended up in the well-worn parking lot without incident.
"I'm really sorry about that." The Brooklyn-class apologized as she carefully steered the vehicle into a parking spot. "I just got this license, and-"
As soon as the car went into park, a hand clamped onto her shoulder, a battlecruiser's strength suddenly keeping Nashville in her seat. She jerked in shock, looking over to her passenger's stern visage.
"Nashville." The carrier started, rangefinders staring through her driver. "There's so much that can go wrong!"
Nashville would be lying if she said she wasn't intimidated. When Saratoga spoke, however, the glint of moisture gathering at the edges of her eyes revealed the carrier's intention to be distinct from coercion.
"Trinitite's had such a hard life." The carrier continued. "The poor girl's been raised on little more than neglect and war, but she's still been far better to every human she's met then we could ever hope.
"I don't know how it is for cruisers, but going this long without any fleet to rely on is beyond terrifying for a carrier." Saratoga continued, the intensity in her gaze slacking. "It's been months, Nashville, and she's already broken down once. Without Alex, I bet it would have been a lot worse."
A tear escaped one of the former princess's rangefinders, leaving a subtle trail on her cheek as it fled to her chin.
"Now, she's got everyone in the country out for her head, and most people are too afraid of her to see her for the terrified girl she is. I know Murray's trying for a happy ending, but… but he might not be enough."
Nashville couldn't speak, the frustration and desperation that had come so easily against the Lieutenant Commander completely silent here. Unbidden, her thoughts drifted to Furgeson's plan of scooping the abyssal up as soon as possible. And with dawning terror she realized just how terribly that could go. Yes, she knew the practical problems, bit if Trinitite mentally broke when they cornered her…
Shangri La had talked about something similar before, right? Why hadn't she really thought about it before?
"I can't even do anything about it." The carrier released her grip, withdrawing a handkerchief from her hold to dab at her rangefinders. "If this princess thing was just my secret, I'd reveal it in a heartbeat to help her, but I can't hurt Naka and the others like that."
The light cruiser nodded dumbly. The reputation of 'Sister Sara' was widely known amongst the fleet: while Big E kept a polite distance from pretty much everyone, the converted battlecruiser's doting feelings towards her 'daughters' were no secret. If she felt this way about all of the Essexes… were they just as open about accepting the Wo-class into the family? The conversations she'd had with Shangri-La implied as much, she guessed.
Saratoga's hands shot forward, clasping Nashville's own.
"Please, Nashville. Don't let them kill my daughter." She pleaded, her hull shaking abruptly as she suppressed a sob. "Promise that you'll do everything in your power to ensure she can live a good life after all this. Not as some experiment, but as a real girl, with a real second chance, like what all of us have gotten."
Words continued to evade Nashville. On one hand, Saratoga's request was completely unreasonable. An enemy aircraft carrier wasn't exactly the kind of enemy you could afford to wear kid gloves with. On top of that, she wasn't in charge of catching Trinitite: Agent Furgeson was, and while Nashville had resolved to use her newfound agency to disobey any stupid orders, she had control over the army of law enforcement Furgeson was gathering, or whatever the legal system decided to do after she'd been bagged. Damnit, hadn't Murray just ordered her to remain skeptical, checking his plans on getting Trinitite onto their side?
On the other hand, however…
"Nashville, please." Saratoga begged. "Trin deserves to live without fearing for her safety, or being separated from the people she loves."
It was stupid. She shouldn't be so easily swayed by a couple of tears and emotional words. The light cruiser was still coming to grips with the 180-degree turn everyone had made between 'keeping them separate' and 'bringing them together.'
But… Nashville couldn't say 'no.' Saratoga had no reason to fake any of her feelings behind her plea. Nashville had no idea what being corrupted by the abyss must have been like for her, or how reliable those memories of her old life were, but Nashville knew Saratoga hated almost everything about her former self. That she still supported the Wo-class, considered her a daughter like all the other Essexes… that meant something.
"You think she loved Alex?" Nashville floated.
"Absolutely." The carrier asserted. "I can't watch that video and come to any other conclusion."
The light cruiser sighed, regretting her words even before she voiced them.
"I'll… do everything in my power to get Trinitite in safely." She promised, the enormity of the promise already a great weight settling on her keel. "I might not succeed, but I'll try."
"That's all I can ask." The light cruiser smiled, cheeks glinting. "Thank you, Nashville."
Nashville refused to forget that Trinitite was an enemy combatant. No matter what Murray and Saratoga thought, the Wo-class definitely saw them as enemies, and the abyssal got a vote in how any encounter played out. She hadn't hesitated to take hostages or threaten other civilians in the past, and Nashville had to assume she'd do so again in a heartbeat.
That being said…
The light cruiser glanced back at Saratoga, the carrier taking a moment to gather herself, and quietly cursed her own lack of resolve.
Now she had to try, damnit.
- - -
Nashville had continued to chauffeur Saratoga around Chehalis for the rest of the week, mostly to the Martin-Campos house and back to Saratoga's motel room. Surprisingly, Nashville found the experience oddly relaxing. In a way, it was closer to what she was built for: escorting a capital ship around town wasn't exactly what she wanted to be doing, but she understood it, at least.
The drives with Saratoga were much more pleasant then her time off, at least. Despite the fact she didn't publicly exist yet, it seemed everyone in Chehalis had realized she was a shipgirl. While on liberty alone she was constantly being approached by random civilians asking questions she wasn't allowed to answer. Alone in her hotel room, she couldn't focus on mindless television, and the news…
Even over a week later, the news was apocalyptic. The video of Trinitite's landfall had made it to mainstream television now, playing on repeat behind hundreds of talking heads. Interviews with everyone Trinitite ever stood in the same room with (barring the Martin-Campos family, oddly). All kinds of dirty laundry was getting aired: The abyssal had played abyssals in those board games she'd been in. The abyssal had used the streamlined asylum system to obtain a false identity. The abyssal had been getting sexually harassed by a coworker.
Interviews with 'Experts' and 'Analysts' were a constant, alternating between speculation on what the abyssal's motives were and where she might 'strike' next.
Worst of all were the pundits.
How did the Navy allow an abyssal to take a fishing boat hostage? How had the Navy and the Coast Guard allowed her to reach shore afterwards? Why had they been content to sit back and silently watch while she'd infiltrated human society? Why was all of this kept secret? How many Americans had the government put at risk by allowing the monster to roam free? Had they lost her after the Chehalis Incident?
Who the hell was in charge of this mess?
Of course, the talking heads already had answers to the majority of these questions. The vast, overwhelming majority of them weren't right, but it was obvious to Nashville correct information wasn't their purpose. She hadn't put the research into the current political situation to figure out the agendas behind all the… assertions she kept hearing, but frankly she didn't have time to figure it out. Yellow journalism was alive and well.
With Trinitite rapidly approaching the Oregon border, everyone else on the team had also left. The civilians had set up somewhere in Portland, Murray's division was back in Everett, and the national guard had left to dig foxholes, or something. That unfortunately meant Nashville had no busywork to lose herself in, either. With no secured communication equipment, she couldn't even ask for updates!
So, the nights up until Saratoga flew back to Japan were normally spent on her hotel room's bed, staring through the ceiling until dreamless sleep took her. Nashville didn't dislike Saratoga, but when she dropped the carrier off at the Chehalis airport, she couldn't have been happier to get out of this accursed valley.
Rejoining Murray's division had been an improvement. She had reports on the Wo-class's progress to focus on, and could go out in public without immediately being recognized as someone tied to this fiasco. The fact they were hundreds of miles away from the Wo-class wasn't being ignored… officially. Murray seemed to buy the story that it was taking the feds time to clear Portland office space for the Navy, but Nashville didn't. It wasn't until the Wo-Class was well south of Portland when they'd finally 'found space,' which was why Murray's division had been packing when Agent Peters had paid them a visit.
Now, Peters was storming away, leaving Murray and Nashville alone in his office.
"Well…" the Spook broke the silence. "It looks like I was wrong about reassigning you, Nash."
"Yeah." The light cruiser agreed, her thoughts turning to more practical concerns. "It won't be much, but it'll be nice to be out to sea again. I'll need the model of Lady Gollerus's radar and its height to stay out of sight when I'm shadowing her."
"That kind of thing is ONI's specialty." The Spook's boast was delivered as flatly as everything he said, but his lips did widen, slightly. "We'll get that for you."
The hint of a smile disappeared as he turned his attention back to planning. "We can probably get an air station or two's alert birds to back you up if something goes wrong as well."
"That would be appreciated," Nashville nodded, "what kind of response time will I get?"
"Depends on how far out the Lady goes." The Lieutenant Commander mused. "Worst case, they could run out as far as the Lilly did, and it could take more than two hours for the calvary to arrive."
Nashville nodded. A lot could happen in two hours, but that was better than she was expecting.
"I'm also worried about the submarine threat, but…" Murray continued, scratching his cleanly-shaven chin.
"Getting a DE from the fleet would be easier than a battleship."
"I hope so," The spook frowned. "but convoys aren't getting enough protection as it is. I think I'll need your help with the request."
"My help?"
"This is a surface warfare question." The intelligence officer clarified. "Your expertise here goes farther than mine."
"An Ensign's word doesn't go very far at all."
"That's true, but you're still a shipgirl. That has weight."
The light cruiser couldn't think of a response to that.
"Then," Murray continued with a sigh, "there's the other problem."
"The fat guy?"
Murray grimaced.
"Ferguson wants to resolve this as soon as possible." He stated. "If we keep stonewalling him like this, he's going to try to find a way around us."
"What's he gonna do about it?"
"I… don't know." The Spook admitted. "I don't think it would end well, though. I'd like to think that the Malheur situation a couple years back showed that they'd grown past Waco, but…"
Nashville swallowed. She didn't know anything about Waco, but his tone implied some spectacular disaster. Something along the lines of the Feds trying to take on an abyssal without military support. Yeah, you could kill an abyssal with IEDs, incendiaries, or a persistent-enough bombardment, but they needed her alive. If they asked her to come with them and she said 'no', what would happen then?
Calling the situation 'ugly' would be an understatement of almost British magnitude.
"So," the light cruiser started, "we gotta have something that makes Furgeson feel like he's making progress, but gives us the time we need for Trinitite to calm down, right?"
"Right." Murray nodded.
A moment passed. Another. Nashville knew they were supposed to be spitballing ideas, here, the CO and XO using each other as sounding boards until some solution revealed itself, but Nashville couldn't even think of any bad ways to delay the FBI.
What could they do?
…damnit, light cruisers weren't meant for this kind of thing! Nashville had been built to screen larger capital ships, hunt destroyers, go toe-to-toe with other cruisers, act independently, and transporting-
…Hold on…
"I think I have an idea."
It… might be incredibly stupid, and a lot of people would frown on it, but if she squinted, and ignored the political fallout, and suppressed her common sense, she could actually see it working! Plus, it was something only she could do!
It was a dumb, selfish, intoxicating line of reasoning, and one she should be ashamed of, but in the moment the light cruiser couldn't help but bask in the sudden euphoria of agency.
"What is it?"
Murray's quizzical expression- an unexpected departure from his unbreakable poker face- came at the worst possible time. Nashville couldn't help herself. She leaned forwards slightly, channeling as much of her inner Brooklyn as she could muster as she tried to imitate her sister's teasing, self-confident lilt.
"You can guess, I'm sure~"
Murray didn't seem particularly amused, but that only encouraged Nashville's mischievous mood. See how it feels, Brad?
Still, holding secrets for no reason wasn't in the light cruiser's nature, so before her superior officer pressed further Nashville spoke again.
"Well, I have to mull it over a bit. Could you let me sleep on it? I want to make sure it isn't too dumb before I propose anything."
The spook didn't seem too mollified, but he nodded.
"I don't see any more reason to keep you here, then." Murray returned to the work he'd been doing before Agent Peters's visit. "Glad to have your perspective, Nash."
"Glad to help." The shipgirl replied, recognizing the dismissal. As she left the office to help their division finish packing, her attention didn't stray far from that flash of inspiration and hope. It would take at least another month with no incident before she was comfortable with initiating her little idea, but that was fine.
The more Trinitite got entrenched in this new life before she sprung into action, the more likely this was to work out, after all. She had long tired of waiting, but Nashville liked to believe she could be patient.
Now she just needed to figure out how to get everyone on board. This scheme didn't take much less time than Murray's plan, but hopefully presenting the civilians with an idea of what they were going to do once the time was right would convince them to slow down a bit. The Lieutenant Commander would be easiest to convince, sure, but his support early on would sabotage his chances with winning over the pettier civilians on the team…
…and thus, the Light Cruiser began to scheme.
A chapter-ly reminder that opinions expressed by characters in this fic do not reflect my own: True Lies is amazing, leagues better then Avatar, and nobody can convince me otherwise. I will die on this hill.
The first part of this chapter was very tricky to write. It has been clear that Nashville and Murray needed to have a conversation like this for a while, now, but I also didn't want to just resolve everything in one conversation. I tried very hard to avoid that, because building up tension like that and releasing all of it in one chapter is just lazy writing. That being said, things can't remain untenable like that, either. Hopefully the trajectory I put the character dynamic on strikes an interesting balance between the two.
Not much to say about the Saratoga conversation, beyond the fact that I've been wanting to write it for a long time.
Anyways, we'll be back to Trinitite the next chapter! Someone from the fishing industry contacted me last chapter, and gave me a lot of helpful information, so I might be going back to the last Trin chapter and retconning a few details, but it'll all be technical stuff that doesn't actually affect that flow of the story much.
Hope you're having a good one!
The first part of this chapter was very tricky to write. It has been clear that Nashville and Murray needed to have a conversation like this for a while, now, but I also didn't want to just resolve everything in one conversation. I tried very hard to avoid that, because building up tension like that and releasing all of it in one chapter is just lazy writing. That being said, things can't remain untenable like that, either. Hopefully the trajectory I put the character dynamic on strikes an interesting balance between the two.
Not much to say about the Saratoga conversation, beyond the fact that I've been wanting to write it for a long time.
Anyways, we'll be back to Trinitite the next chapter! Someone from the fishing industry contacted me last chapter, and gave me a lot of helpful information, so I might be going back to the last Trin chapter and retconning a few details, but it'll all be technical stuff that doesn't actually affect that flow of the story much.
Hope you're having a good one!
- Location
- Lost in the internet
Aww, poor Saratoga...
She feel responsible and put Nashville in a tough position
She feel responsible and put Nashville in a tough position
- Location
- The State of Denial
"...then she got an idea. An awful idea. Nashville had a wonderful, awful idea."
I can't wait to see what kind of shenanigans she's planning. They had Thanksgiving earlier, so I'm hoping it'll be a proper Christmas miracle.
I can't wait to see what kind of shenanigans she's planning. They had Thanksgiving earlier, so I'm hoping it'll be a proper Christmas miracle.
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Jim Starluck
CO, ICS Vanguard
- Location
- Cincinnati, OH
Lady Gollerus isn't about to get another new crewmember, is she?
- Location
- Lost in the internet
Oh, I admit I didn't thought about that ! It could be quite fun and charged with shenanigans.
But can't Kanmusu and Abyssal "recon" eachothers as "warship" ?
Yes they can, infact when she was still in Seattle the local shipgirls had a ping on her remember?
- Location
- Lost in the internet
Yeah, it's what I thought
Unless Nashville manage an incredible act of playing dumb and either pretend not recognizing Trinitite as a warship or act as she's a Kanmusu, getting on the Lady Gollerus would end up in a fight.