Anchovy Peaches [Kancolle][Crackfic]

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXX - Persephone and Hades

The Tsu-class looked into the distance. The Hell Crosses were circling well behind where the fleet sailed. The Ri-class beside her also looked at the distance.

"If you illuminated them," the Ri-class said, "Could the Hell Crosses rain down their fire?"

The Tsu-class looked at her leader. She smiled. "So that's why you ordered us to hold fire," she said.

"I didn't want to shoot at the ones who might save us," the Ri-class said then a wave of pain ran through her as she tried to move one of her turrets. The mangled mess of her main guns were simply a placebo of safety and power, they were crippled now and the pain from them was growing worse.

"We should get moving," the Ri-class managed, "They might track your radar back to us."

"We're dead anyway," the Tsu-class said, "They're herding us this way, to the Abyss."

"If our Master has abandoned us, we should drag them into the Abyss," the Ri-class said.

In the distance, the Armored Carrier Demon suddenly erupted in flames as the Hell Crosses' fire lances actually hit with every shot. The Ta-class `escorting` the Demon took two hits, and the Light Cruiser Demon took three. Of the three columns of smoke, one vanished and two turned from black to white. The survivors were venting steam.

"Now we run a little more," the Ri-class said, "I just hope we don't stumble over the damned sub that's out here."

"That would be typical," the Tsu-class said, "After all that's happened because we didn't want to waste time searching for it."

The Ri-class nodded and signaled the others to speed up. She still worried that the Battleship Water Demon was out there, possibly on their flank. They hadn't seen her since she and the three Ta-class had ravaged the fleet. Taking two of the Ta-class in return hadn't balanced things by any means.
------------------------------

The destroyer waited until the human had come out to check the systems again, while most of the crew deployed the camouflage cover, a small team raced forward to assault the door and get it open. With a heave they opened the door and the destroyer raced into the antechamber, a second team deployed to open the inner door while the first team raced to close and lock the door behind the destroyer. The human guard was reaching for an alarm as the door opened and the destroyer entered the palace proper. Both the first and second teams reboarded the destroyer as alarms both mechanical and biological sounded and the destroyer prepared for the last step of its mission.
------------------------------

Gotengo knew she was technically breaking the rules. They'd never specifically said the 'don't go out past the patrols' referred to the sub/destroyer picket line, not the P-3 Orions and Kawasaki P-1's. But she wanted to get out as far as she could before doing this. And this week, with the VIPs on Okinawa, the P-1's and P-3's were patrolling out a lot further than they usually did.

She had a knife strapped to her leg, and was prepared to use it.

"November Superior Princess," she said, "I don't know if you like, hate or just eat humans and their ships, but I offer a deal. My sisters, I want to see them again, give them the chance to redeem as I have had. I offer anything you demand, except the health and well-being of my friends, that is not mine to give or to take." She touched the knife. "Even my life, if that is your demand."

She stood for some minutes, describing lazy arcs near her self-imposed border to the patrol area as she awaited any sign that her offer had been accepted or even acknowledged.

The figures appearing out of a distant storm front caught her attention, three Ne-class heavy cruisers she instantly recognized despite their heavy damage.

"Okay, Your Highness, you work fast, I'll give you that," Gotengo said and accelerated towards them, now thinking how to prevent her new friends from massacring her old friends, because it didn't look like all three of her old friends together could beat a single surfaced sub in a gun duel.

Then she saw two cruisers she'd hoped to never see again in her life. "All right, I said 'anything' and letting those two live is a more than fair price."

As she drew closer, she realized she wasn't looking at a fleet, but the ruins of a fleet that somehow kept sailing.

"Chi?" the Ri-class said, and winced as she tried to bring a gun to bear.

"Yes," she told the bane of her existence for so long, the one who loved starting fights, both with herself and among others, "I'd ask what happened, but if you are all here together, I can guess."

"The Princess has fallen," the tattletale Tsu-class said so arrogantly, Gotengo wanted to show some of her new skills and confidence, and wipe the smirk from the prig's face with her fist.

"Then what's chasing you?" she ignored the Tsu-class and concentrated on the leader, the Ri-class.

"At last count, a Ta-class, a Light Cruiser Demon and somewhere out there a Battleship Water Demon, we pared away most of their escorts," the Ri-class said.

So it's not just these, but more you ask, Gotengo thought, I promised anything, but to save my friends, yes, that too I will pay.

"If you've come to die, you are in the right place," Gotengo said loudly, so the entire assembling fleet could hear, "If you are willing to be interned, continue on your course, tell the humans that 'Gotengo told you to invoke the Indianapolis Protocol', and then stand down. If you try some clever treachery, they'll kill you all."

The Tsu-class caught her arm. Gotengo stared at her. "What can you do?" the Tsu-class said, "You have even less armament than we do."

"If one truly has friends," Gotengo said, "The only weapon you need, is a radio." She pulled her arm free and glided among the trio of Ne-class, the playful punches as close to a caress as would occur among the Abyssals, but she knew what was meant by it. She got some distance away and began laying smoke. Both to obscure the crippled fleet, and to draw their foes' eye to something else. She also got on the radio.

" 'Ghostrider the pattern is full', or 'We deal in lead friend'?" she sent into the ether above the low clouds.

" 'We're in the same business,'" came the reply, "Gotengo, this is Vin, you're a bit out of your pasture."

"There are three forces of Abyssals, 17 who might want to turn, a pair of high-levelers chasing them, and a single Battleship Water Demon acting as the hound, get everyone spun up, because I know we can rescue at least three of the first group, and somebody's got to kill the other two groups."

"Will pass your message," the squadron commander of the orbiting P-3's said, "Be careful, you aren't invulnerable."

"I know," Gotengo said. And I know, she silently added, That I made a deal, maybe my life for theirs. Maybe, or just maybe I have to prove myself. The timid weakling. The cowardly sniper. Except I don't have guns or torpedoes, just my radar and a knife.

Her radar was being bounced back by the aluminum flakes in the smoke she was laying as she turned and began laying a second layer to the defensive curtain. Then she'd scout beyond it and the P-3's would have the missile lock they'd need. Eight against two, and the Abyssals would never know what hit them.
------------------------------

Dreadnought had been discussing things with Her Majesty, now she was running through the palace and desperately hoping Warspite and Valiant were hurrying. She had no idea how the corgis had gotten loose, but she didn't need directions, their frantic barking marked the location of the intruder, an Abyssal destroyer.

That was the worst part of it. On land, the only thing a destroyer had that could threaten her was out of commission, but inside the palace she couldn't use most of her heavy weapons either. The fact that the loudest noise she could hear were the dogs confused her. Surely the Abyssal would have opened fire by now, or if it was a Campbeltown, exploded. But nothing.

She stopped as she saw the four marines with the seething swarm of corgis between them and presumably the Abyssal. They had neither a clear shot, nor anything heavy enough to damage a destroyer. The arrival of HMAS Vampire from outside told her she was not alone in this, then the destroyer came to a sudden halt and just stared.

Dreadnought stepped between two of the marines and looked at the Abyssal destroyer to get a clear shot with her secondaries. And she stopped.

"Does anyone know why that Abyssal is wearing a dog costume?" Dreadnought asked.

"Woof," came through the Abyssal's external speakers.
------------------------------

The all-sortie signal had been given and everything that could get into the air or put to sea was on its way. Captain Gordon was barely in the lead as the destroyers tried to pass the massive ship as he churned ahead at flank speed. The force of seventeen Abyssal ships wasn't the real concern, if Gotengo's report was accurate, they hadn't enough gun power all together to challenge even Haida or Willie D, let alone the rest of the `Nishi Fleet`.

What had the battleship worried despite Goto's and Richardson's forces sortieing behind them was the others beyond them, what might be behind them under cover of the approaching storm, and Gotengo was out there alone.

The only wild card in the deck is Shark Dentures, and I doubt she'd risk herself, he thought as he plunged through the sea, General Quarters long since set, all watertight doors closed and his proud, new Chief Engineer happily giving him 115% of the supposed max of his powerplant.

"My fighters have spotted them, and they aren't putting up a hail of flak," Maggie sent, "That's either good, or bad."

"Admiral Crawford, orders?" Captain Gordon sent.

"Close, ascertain their intentions, and if hostile, sink every one of them," the Admiral ordered, "If they are requesting internment, protection, or some other deal, leave them to the subs and destroyers, and you get our wayward girl."

"Understood," he replied as he headed towards the largest ships in the fleet. A formation of three heavy cruisers in a proper formation.

"We surrender, accept internment, whatever," one of the cruisers shouted waving at the distant smokescreen, "Just go after her, she's trying to commit suicide to buy more time."

Many of the others amid the fleet seemed to agree, those that didn't seemed too weary to want to fight. "Our subs and destroyers will escort you in," Captain Gordon said, and wished there were more heavy units. He knew everything on Okinawa had sortied, but even at 35 knots, 70 miles was a long way away.
------------------------------

Logged into DD-scord

HMAS Vampire - VonHelsing Certified
To any Pacific DD, HELP! We've got an Abyssal destroyer who's dressed as a dog IN BLOODY BUCKINGHAM!

HMS Vasa - Certified Swede
Okay, calm, ask them which Princess do they serve

HMAS Vampire - VonHelsing Certified
Okay, thanks, wait one.

HMS Kronan - Princess Certified
Will they talk, or stay a dog?

Blyskawica - Certified Pole
I am unaware of a Vasa save the sunken ship, have you returned?

HMS Vasa - Certified Swede
Sort of, but I'm not a sailing ship.

Blyskawica - Certified Pole
I see.

HMAS Vampire - VonHelsing Certified
It says Elizabeth the Second. Is it bloody mental?

HMS Kronan - Princess Certified
Sounds like it's trying to switch sides.

HMAS Vampire - VonHelsing Certified
They can do that?

Blyskawica - Certified Pole
@HMS Vasa @HMS Kronan say it with me, facepalm.

HMS Vasa - Certified Swede
Wouldn't that hurt?

HMS Kronan - Princess Certified
If you still want to kill it, start with ear scratches, or butt scratches if the dog suit is backwards.

HMS Kronan - Princess Certified
Once it's purring flip it over and give belly scratches, then you can carry it outside, one HC needed.

HMAS Vampire - VonHelsing Certified
That sounds completely crazy, how do you know it'll work?

Z1 - Certified German
Because HMAS Schwachkopf, they USED TO BE Abyssal destroyers.

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXI - Lyre, Lyre Harp on Fire

Nagato hated flying, most ship-girls did, but an Abyssal Fleet fleeing another was not the thing you sailed a force through, even if they were a core of fast battleships. So Nagato, Mutsu, Iowa, Bismarck, Hood, Wisconsin, Colorado and Utah had abandoned the christening ceremony to board several, heavy, air transports that had the orders of 'don't spare the horses'.

She hated even more they'd be airdropped into the water to flank the enemy formations. Flying was a bad idea, most girls wanted out of the plane as fast as possible, but jumping out of one that was functioning perfectly was not a wise alternative.

Constitution and Victory had diverted from their flight path from Australia and would arrive at Okinawa in time to join the festivities. Everyone wondered what they'd find, and everyone knew it might be the trap that the Nishinoshima base had been positioned to attract, and trap until heavy units could get there.

"Is this Gotengo a nice girl?" Wisconsin asked.

"Very nice, very kind," Nagato said, "It is difficult to imagine her as an Abyssal."

The Iowa class nodded.
------------------------------

Gotengo submerged again. That smug idiot couldn't identify a finger if you shoved it in her eye, she thought, That's not a Ta-class, that's a Ru-class. The maritime aircraft were in place, out of the Abyssals' effective range. Now she had to wait. She was glad of the lessons, meant and incidental, from the subs. Patience while her foes closed in. The Ru-class would be her target, she'd illuminate the Light Cruiser Demon and the Battleship Water Demon for the Orions. She hoped they were as deadly as their namesake.
------------------------------

Crawford felt very vulnerable out on a steel-hulled warship facing a number of Abyssals. He also realized they needed `a human` to 'assert his authority' and that meant him. Northampton was close but if their extensive damage was a ruse he was going to be in a killing zone.

The destroyers and subs had a simple order, if it was a fake, turn the area into torpedo soup and illuminate the survivors for the P-1's orbiting overhead. They were approaching slowly, having overtaxed engines, and the subs needed to keep up. He was happy to wait. Every minute meant Captain Gordon could complete his rescue of Gotengo and return, or the first of Richardson's Standards would arrive and a dozen, heavy battleline units would be here.

With my luck, Victory and Connie will be first, Crawford thought, Wouldn't that be interesting. In the distance, the Orions had opened fire with every Harpoon they could carry.
------------------------------

Gotengo felt the hate from the Ru-class as the battleship clutched her belly. Steam poured from the gut wound as her boilers vented to atmosphere. As long as the cruiser didn't sail in front of her guns, the hateful glare was all the other ship could manage until she got her secondaries under local control and manual movement.

"The others have been destroyed," Gotengo said, "My friends still have plenty of fire, surrender and you'll not be harmed. We can repair even that."

"I will not," the Ru ground out, before her head exploded.

"Nice trick," the Ta-class said as she surfaced, her gun smoldering from her murder of her ally, "But I've hunted submarines before, and behind your own smoke, your friends cannot help you."

Gotengo dashed out of her smokescreen and left the corpse of the Ru-class slowly settling into the sea. Any chance she had of hiding behind the Light Cruiser Demon or Battleship Water Demon sank even as those two corpses did. Instead she began frantic evasive maneuvers.

Okay, November Superior Princess, I never promised I wouldn't call for, she thought.

"HELP!" she yelled and transmitted over all frequencies. The laughter of the Ta-class blanketed out any response, and might have blocked her call.
------------------------------

The old, Mark-1 eyeball was the best way to track the Abyss. Smoke was a two-way barrier, as much a curse as a blessing, unless you had aircraft to scout and to spot the fall of shot. Captain Gordon had five scout planes and they were all out ahead of him in a widening fan. But he also had Maggie's and Furious' squadrons who'd launched from shore, and they had teeth, torpedoes. All they had to do was spot Gotengo and they could help her, but Lady Macbeth was jamming all the frequencies. Or so she thought.

"Vin, where's Chico?" Captain Gordon asked through his celphone.

"Straight ahead, five miles," the Orion pilot told him, "Calvera is about two miles south south west, playing with her."

"I can spot for you!" came Gotengo's panicked voice over the phone.

"What the Hell are you doing?" Captain Gordon asked.

"I took a contract," she admitted, "Diving into the smoke."

He slowed, got every gun ready and loaded. A few platoons of Marines were on the rails as if their guns could stop a warship. The data feed from the Orion told him exactly where to shoot. The Ta-class dove into the smoke and violently maneuvered, so she wouldn't appear where he'd anticipated. But she didn't shut up, and while he lacked radar lock due to the composition of the smoke, his Radio Direction Finders were good enough to track the Ta-class' mocking laughter and at least get the guns pointed in the right direction.

Gotengo broke through the smoke to the northeast, zigzagging.

The Ta-class broke through to the northwest, and was aiming where Gotengo was. Then she spotted Captain Gordon and the flashes from his turrets. He only hit with one of the first salvo of eight but the white smoke indicated he'd tripped the turbine safeties and he already had the second, corrected salvo on the way before she fired.

It was six against four, she had radar too but he had been prepared with superheavies instead of her High Cap. She hit with four of six, and he hit with only one, but as the secondaries opened and he dropped his torpedoes, one of her turrets blew off. He grunted from the impact, but nothing penetrated and the splinters didn't damage anything. The four gun salvos continued to fire.

She swung around to get all her turrets on target, only to take three of the eight torpedoes. Her look of surprise vanished along with her head as he'd closed to rifle range and his gunners could snipe.

Her guns continued to fire on local control, but another salvo scored four hits that found her engine room and a magazine. A column of flame shot out of her headless neck and her arms dropped. She floated, looking like a grisly road flare. Small secondary explosions continued as Captain Gordon closed in on Gotengo.

"You crazy spider monkey!" he called out and accepted the hug from the panting cruiser, "If you don't care about me, what about your Battleship Water Demon?" She tried to crush his belt armor.

"I made a deal with the November Superior Princess you sang about, if she'd give me back my old friends, I'd do whatever she asked," Gotengo said, "And she did, real fast, so I had to honor my contract."

" 'November Superior Princess'? There's no such thing as the November Superior Princess," Gordon said, "It's just us personifying a powerful force."

"Like Tillman-class battleships?" Gotengo asked.

"Touche," Gordon admitted, "Let's get out of here, maybe Her Highness hasn't run out of names and nameplates yet."

The clouds passed over them as the storm approached. "Did your compass just go wonky?"

"Yeah, gyrocompass too, that's not supposed to be possible," Gordon said.

"Captain Gordon, Captain Gordon, this is Blackjack, Blackjack, umm, please shut off Yankee technology, we need compass bearing to outfly the storm," came over the radio.

"Blackjack, Blackjack, this is Captain Gordon, Captain Gordon, arm your weapons and get your observers out, we didn't do this, and I think I know who did. I've had dreams like this, but this time I'm awake."

"I prefer the dream where Svetlana wakes up with no clothes," came the reply, "Please keep transmitting, is the only reference we have."

"Do you like cheese?" Gotengo asked.
------------------------------

Arizona, Idaho, Wyoming and a slew of surfaced subs escorted the battered Abyssals onshore and to the makeshift repair baths that had been set up. The surviving group were all cruisers and destroyers, they'd been a badly damaged mixed force who'd run away from The Battle of Treasure Island as it was being called, and then returned to find their home under heavy assault, their Princess dead and every surviving hull against them.

The Standards chuckled among themselves that Gordon was being called 'The Abyss' by Abyssals themselves. It raised the question of what their name for the Abyss was.

The new Abyssals stared in stunned amazement at the Swedish and Coast Guard ships getting them situated. The caring treatment seemed at odds with their instincts of how Demons and above would treat mere cruisers.

The Ri-class seemed the most accepting. "We're in a nightmare," she told her fleet, "After the bath, maybe we'll wake up, or maybe we'll be sunk. I just don't want to ache anymore."

The few others nodded and glanced around.
------------------------------

"Blackjack, Blackjack, this is Gordon, Gordon, what's your fuel status, what is your fuel status?" Captain Gordon said. The seas under the storm weren't smooth, but they were far too calm for the storm that raged overhead.

"Gordon, Blackjack, if I can land at Kadena, I can give you three hours," the plane replied.

"I'll arrange it," Gordon said, then only verbally to Gotengo, "After I reestablish radio contact."

Gotengo nodded as she looked around. "We're heading in deeper," Gotengo said.

"I don't think the edge is the way out, at least not without going to the center first," Gordon said. The Smiths and Floyd seemed certain he was traveling the right way, so were his captain and the bridge officers. Considering that his Captain was essentially Nyarlathotep's human guise, he had a feeling that somebody out there was rolling the dice and he and Gotengo were pieces on a board.

"Gordon Gotengo, Gordon Gotengo, this is Blackjack, Blackjack, reduce speed or you'll run right over something," their eye in the sky said, "I say again, reduce speed or you'll run over something."

The two ships slowed as they spotted a spot of white on the 'wine dark sea'.

"I know you," Gordon whispered as he resolved the little girl working on a Ta-class lying on the surface of the water.

"That's her?" Gotengo asked as she slowed and swung wide to give her hydrophones better resolution.

The girl turned and looked at him, glanced at Gotengo, nodded and looked back at Gordon. "She tried to protect me, when I ran away. Please, I can save her."

"Not here," Gordon said, "And not without help." He received acknowledgments and the engineering crews and marines were standing by for boarding. Some instinct caused him to stop from just picking up the fallen battleship. The girl spun her head around and stared. He looked up and saw the eyes.

The five inch had been loaded with starshells, those salvoed, then he brought the 6-inchers to bear, they began a withering fire of VT and HC. He heard the marines open fire as the 16-inchers began their steady fire at the distortion cringing from the brilliant light of the starshells. More starshells were added, he swore that the Captain ran out on his shoulder to fire at the malevolent distortion with his sidearm. It turned to flee. He had no radar lock, but he KNEW where it was, so did the gunners as they laid fire down on it.

He stopped as fast as he'd begun once it disappeared. He realized he'd stepped over the girl at some point, putting himself between her and the eyes.

"What was that?" Gotengo asked as she got up from her crouch.

"He saw it," the girl said.

"Saw what?" Gotengo asked as she tried to look in all directions.

"I saw it," Gordon affirmed, "Let's get the Hell out of here, I think we opened the door and any way is now an exit."

He leaned over to scoop up the Ta-Class who had her belly opened. The incision was careful, but the insides were a mess. His new chief engineer led teams across and into the hole even as he stood up. Gotengo picked up the girl and placed her astride the Ta-class' hips and winced as the girl reached in up to her shoulders to work on the battleship.

"If any way is out," Gotengo said, "Follow me. Blackjack, Blackjack, this is Gotengo, Gotengo, we have the package and we are running away. There's something else in here and it isn't us."

"Gotengo, Gotengo, this is Blackjack, this is Blackjack, what were you firing at?" the aircraft replied, "We couldn't get a lock."

"When you're at Kadena and we've got some vodka inside us, then I'll talk about it," Gordon said, "But out is the direction we're heading."

"Be advised, much sea disturbance behind you, but no targets," the plane replied.

Radar began resolving multiple, small targets. "Imp swarm," Gotengo said as she swung wide and looked.

Gordon poured on the speed as the five-inchers began targeting and firing. He'd have to zigzag to bring more than one turret worth of 16-inch to bear. The screams began from the swarm as they began dying in greater numbers. He twisted so he could release a spread of torpedoes into the pursuing force.

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXII - Trusting in Eurydice

Nagato sailed in line ahead. She'd have to explain the historical in joke that Johnston, Heerman, Hoel and Sammie B were part of the screen for her, her sister, both Yamato-class and all four Kongo-sisters. The Iowas, Hood and Bismarck had their own screen as the two battlegroups sailed in a racetrack pattern before what might have been a rain squall, if it moved and had been a less ominous, more natural color. The Swedish Squadron was further back, ready to catch any leakers and the Ise/Fuso-classes and American Standards were in close on Okinawa. Seventeen carriers of various sizes were scouting the flanks and ready to launch their strike packages.

The plan had been simple, close with the enemy and destroy them, but while the transmissions could be heard, even the 'Radar-Master Race' could detect nothing within those clouds.

"Gotengo get clear torps inbound and outbound," Gordon was heard, "Blackjack, you got a lock on that IFF?"

"If they shoot at me, they can't shoot at you," Gotengo replied, "Got it, 279. No sat service yet, figures. Oh shit, is that what you saw?"

"Nope, not even close," came a young voice, like a particularly young destroyer, "Repairs are almost complete."

"Okay, brace yourselves," Gordon called.

"This is like a radio drama," Mutsu said, "I hope my imagination is worse than the reality."

Before Nagato could reply, they heard thunder, then again, but no lightning.

"Ow, ow, ow," Gordon said, "Two guns per turret, two guns per turret, moron."

"Gordon do you hear us?" Nagato said by radio, "We have you at 95 degrees magnetic, respond, please."

"Blackjack, what do you mean they can hear us?" Gotengo said, "Allied Fleet, Allied Fleet this is Gotengo, Gotengo, we are heading approx. 279, heading approx. 279, coming in hot, coming in hot."

"Allied Fleet, Allied Fleet major targets eleven miles ahead and two miles behind our position, major targets eleven miles ahead and two miles behind our position. Load star shell and Type 3's for first salvo. Load star shell and Type 3's for first salvo."

"RDF isn't good enough for that kind of shooting," Iowa called as the two forces continued in their racetrack course, "Even with that kind of load out."

"Let us get closer," Johnston called, "We can fire torpedoes that'll run out of juice before they get to Gordon and Gotengo."

"No," Nagato said, "But move the Swedes up, and intensify the air recon to the flanks. Single line, I at the head, Iowa at the stern, we'll use a battle turn to reverse course. Squadron, clear your guns, simultaneous salvo on three, two, one." Every ship sent the APCBC or HC they'd been loaded with down range. "Let's hope they heard that," Nagato whispered. She could hear the thunder within the rain squall, but saw neither lightning, ships, gun flashes nor enemies. Once she saw any of that, everything would change.
------------------------------

"I hate this," HMS Victory grumped as she marched around the command post still in her flight suit, listened to the snippets and looked at the plotting boards and the sailors trying to make sense of the coming battle. "The greatest gun battle, greater even than Jutland, and we're - " She looked around. "Connie, you BITCH!"
------------------------------

"I thank you for the ride," USS Constitution said as she rode beside the Abyssal Shark Dentures.

"How did you even know I was there?" the Abyssal asked, "I had concealed myself."

"A sailing ship has to know more about the sea than a steamer," Connie said, "Wind and tide speak in ways that steam obscures. Besides, I can read between the lines better than most. I lived most of my life as part of an also-ran, not as a major power, you see from the bottom as well as the top."

The figure nodded. "I am glad that you can vouch for me."

"We both have reasons to have to be out here, working together just means we get closer," Connie said, "Just let me do the talking, at first."

"Do you think they can do it?" Shark Dentures asked.

"It won't be the decisive battle, but Nagato is better at communicating than Beatty ever was," Connie said.
------------------------------

The modern tech still had the best equipment, when it worked. "Vin to Nagato," the orbiting Orion reported, "6000 meters and closing."

"Thank you," Nagato stifled the jealous impulse that Iowa would be the head of the line when their runaways broke out of the cloud, she was still in charge, who fired first would be noted only by some historians. The 'Radar-Master Race' would be neutralized by the short ranges involved.

And, she smiled as she thought, Who scores the first hit will be who has the best optics.

"Gotengo, Captain Gordon, respond please," Mutsu sent into the cloud, all other transmissions had been stifled, the line could communicate with signal flags and lights, all they needed was to be able to see and hear.

"It's getting brighter," Gotengo's voice reported, "We're almost there!"

"As soon as we spot our rescuers, get ready to hit the deck," Gordon said.

"Negative, negative, join the battleline," Mutsu said, "Join the battleline, respond!"

Constitution was back behind the line, with Shark Dentures slightly closer to it. None of the Swedes were happy about the elusive, former, princess sub being here, and Victory had practically burned up the airwaves calling Constitution things that would be answered with swords at any other time. Connie only laughed.

"Horns," Constitution said, "Maybe they can hear."

The entire fleet sounded their horns, some trying to play tunes, others a sustained blast.

"I hear them!" Gotengo shouted over the radio, "I hear them!"

"Allied Fleet, Allied Fleet, this is Captain Gordon, Captain Gordon," Gordon broadcast, "Unless you have two or more battlewagons, run! Unless you have two or more battlewagons, run! We've got lots of small nasties chasing us. We've got lots of small nasties chasing us."

Nagato could practically hear the grins from the ships armed with the Type 3 rounds and the gun crews with VT-fused secondaries. Their fugitives broke through the cloud wall, Gordon firing behind them as they came. His cargo of a Ta-class and a small Abyssal would have been shocking for anyone else. For Gordon, it was almost expected.

"MOMMY!" from the little Abyssal was unexpected. Shark Dentures broaching like a whale near Gordon was even more shocking. He transferred the little one to the odd submarine whose human `tongue` grabbed the girl and hugged her tight as the rest of the Abyssal turned and raced towards the line.

Gordon had set the Ta-class on the water, did a half turn and fired every gun he had in rapid fire, one shot from each turret into the seething mass as they exited the cloud. As he pulled back to join the end of the line with the wobbly Ta-class, the battleline opened fire with main, secondary and AA armament. Even Nagato's own 25mm guns began firing.

Amazingly, or terrifyingly, the immense casualties among the Abyssals didn't slow the mass charge down. They kept coming. The destroyers launched every torpedo they had into the mass, then raced away. Iowa ordered a battleturn but not a course reversal, an escape course. The guns of the fleet were sweeping the Abyssals, like hosing mud off a sidewalk, but the mud kept coming. Keeping the distance open was the only correct course.

Nagato was surprised when the noise of gunfire from Captain Gordon slackened. His five-inch were still firing, but the six-inch had fallen silent, then the sixteen-inch was down to an occasional shot. She realized, he was running out of ammunition as the mass concentrated on the rear of the ship-girl line: Nagato, Mutsu, the wobbly Ta-class and Gordon. The force grew closer, and his marines added their fire at less than a hundred meters. Abyssals struck briefly changed to photographic negatives of themselves, black became white and white became black, then the steaming corpse would sink. But still they closed in.

Grape, chain and canister from 24-pounder long guns and 32-pounder carronades raked the Abyssal imps, against anything heavier than a destroyer it would have been useless, but against PT Imps it wiped the sea clean of them. "Get to the center of the line you idiot!" Constitution yelled, "They're after you, make them pay for it."

Gordon skated past the two Nagato-class and towards the bulk of the Swedish Squadron. The imp mass redirected after him.
------------------------------

Joshamee continued firing, HC and VT tearing great holes in the mass as it pursued them. The others were taking the opportunity to vent their building anger on an allowable target. With Captain Gordon behind them, the mass reached out for them without retreating or taking even the most basic defensive measures. Occasionally a swarm of torpedoes had to be dodged, but the destroyer screen spotted them early enough to send the warning.

"They're fading!" Johnston shouted as she darted in and out firing all the time.

Joshamee looked and realized that by opening the distance the mass was fraying like overstretched cloth. "Keep up the fire, they'll get desperate," Joshamee called and watched with glee as an airstrike finally went in. Not the carrier planes which had been strafing and bombing the PT Imps, but the heavy bombers. The BUFFs unloaded their hideous burdens. Each bomb split into hundreds of bomblets. The sea filled with PT Imps boiled as every bomblet detonated on impact with the ships or the sea.

Joshamee looked at the carnage as the last of the imp swarm withdrew and the dark cloud faded. "Keep up your scans. A straggler plane or imp could still get us!"

Captain Gordon scanned the skies. "Kadena control, Blackjack 286 needs clearance to land there, we wouldn't have made it without him. Tell him and his crew the first bottles of vodka are on me. And the second and the third."

"Will do, Captain, we'll roll out the red carpet," Kadena control replied.

Iowa called for a zigzag pattern. She and Nagato began separating out the battle squadrons and getting the destroyer screen redeployed.

"We did it," the Twin Princess near Joshamee said.

"Yeah, without getting killed," Joshamee said and heard the grim laughter from the other ships, Swedish and other.

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXIII - Bargaining with the Unappetizing

It was a bit of a joke, but there's something frighteningly vulnerable about a battleship without its main guns. Hibiki spotted Captain Gordon and she signaled for DesDiv 6 to close in a bit more, they had orders and weren't quite breaking them, but they were stretching them a bit for the haggard-looking ship. Hibiki saw Willie D realize what she had done, and the Fletcher began looking around for destroyers of her own.

Hibiki nearly laughed at Willie D's reaction to the small group of Abyssal `Swedish` destroyers answering Willie D's summons. It's help, Hibiki thought and still wanted to sail in closer and hug the battlewagon. It would be a couple of hours until they made landfall on Okinawa. Hours that arguably the most powerful ship among them was most vulnerable.

It scraped at the destroyer's sense of the appropriateness of the world, as if the Abyss itself drew nails across a chalkboard. She could only guard, comforting him would come later. She did wonder where Gotengo had disappeared to, then spotted her zipping in and out of the Swedish Squadron, seeing to their morale and uncertainties. Hibiki nodded, it was a good reason not to be with her friend, they needed her more.
------------------------------

Coming ashore was a bit nerve-racking, the Burt Gummer 'I am completely out of ammo' impression contest had been vaguely amusing, especially from those who'd never heard the original. The Russian delegation at the ramp concerned me. Gotengo skated over to meet with them.

"I don't care how much he offered to buy," Gotengo said, "I'm seeing them all to a round or ten myself."

"Blackjack 286 didn't land here," the Russian officer said, "But we were able to confirm she did escort you and the Swedes to Nishinoshima."

"Okay we'll send Sergi, Misha and the rest a few cases to Vladivostok, or wherever they are flying out of," Gotengo said and smiled.

"How did you know their names? Did they tell you on your way to Nishinoshima?" the Russian officer asked.

"I never talked to them on that flight, I was at Nishinoshima," Gotengo said, "They were completely professional today, they just needed us broadcasting to get a radio fix so we talked about family stuff, hopes and dreams."

"You aren't going to discipline them, are you?" Gordon asked.

"I would need Rod Serling to deliver it," the officer said, "Blackjack 286 crashed on take-off a few days ago. Sergi, Misha, Vanya, Ivan, no survivors."

As the returned spirit of a ship that never existed, things shouldn't spook me, but I felt a chill down my back.

"How?" Gotengo demanded, "We talked with Sergi and his crew for hours. Misha offered violin lessons. It was their radio direction finders that led us out of the storm. We argued about Sergi's sister's cheese of all things!"

The Russian officer had grown more apprehensive with each spot-on revelation.

Constitution approached. "Perhaps they needed to give one more service to Rodina," the sailing ship said, "Or remembered a friend in need."

"I promised a round, if it's only in their name so be it," Gordon said, "I'll bring the cases by the canteen at sundown, that seems to be the appropriate time. If there's a photograph of the crew, please bring it."

The Russian nodded.
------------------------------

Constitution felt Victory's approach rather than seeing it, she hadn't been lying about feeling sea state in ways steamers didn't. Even if this sea was a vast collection of ship-girls. As a 'super frigate' she should have been worried about an angry ship of the line. Constitution hadn't lived this long without having plans. As soon as Victory broached the crowd of ship-girls, Constitution approached. Before Victory could begin her arm-waving tirade, Constitution grabbed Victory's wrists, pivoted her 60 degrees and stepped out of her line of sight.

Indianapolis and Shark Dentures were hugging the little Abyssal Princess between them and all three hugging each other. All three of them were happily crying. Constitution noted the entire armada were photographing or filming the encounter and reconciliation. She also noted the fury of Victory had been damped down to a slow burn.

She mentally chalked one up for the USN over the RN, but decided to bring it up to Victory later.
------------------------------

Tashkent and Gangut stood with many of the aviators and ground crews who'd been brought in to support the construction battalions and the field hospitals. Neither had ever expected to be living through the tail end of a ghost story.

The four, young men in the photo crouched around the football were no different than thousands of others who'd worn the telnyashka of the Navy. But few had returned from the grave to escort an allied warship to safety.

There was food in the canteen, especially cheeses, the vodka was very good, but the first toast was to be to the crew of Blackjack 286.

"They were good men, I regret I could not thank them in person. As a spirit called from beyond, I should not be shocked that others would answer the call. I just never thought they would answer it for me," Captain Gordon said, and drank, as did everyone else.

More toasts were offered, a few anecdotes from the people who knew them. The story of the football tournament the picture was from. Tashkent wondered about why he had returned when so few Soviet or Russian ships had. Whether is was a singular person who drew them, as the crew of Blackjack 286 had been drawn to Captain Gordon, as Gangut was drawn by Admiral Kutnezov, thinking him Rozhestvensky reborn. Or some revolutionary or monarchist spirit.

Tashkent still didn't know why he'd returned and especially into a female body. What troubled him was that if rumors were true, the Abyss itself had confronted Captain Gordon, personally.

Perhaps they wanted to strike at the Abyss in the best way they could, Tashkent thought, Or once they were on the other side, they learned what we all now know. The Submarine Princess created a Repair Princess as daughter, was destroyed by the Red Princess for that crime, only to return as Captain Gordon and Shark Dentures. It seemed almost a Russian folktale, the one most wounded by the dark shaman was best able to smite them. But Baba Yaga would not make such a mistake, or she would not be the villain of the story, but the one who sewed the hero back into one piece, not two.

Tashkent watched Gotengo and Captain Gordon, and their easy camaraderie. He envied it a bit, but knew he would not want to suffer what they had gone through to forge it.
------------------------------

"For those who kneel beside us at altars not Thine own, who lack the lights that guide us, Lord, let their faith atone!" Richardson said as he stood. He wore civilian clothes for this as many of the troops and ship-girls who participated in the rescue sat under the trees to enjoy Okinawa's beauty and good weather, "If wrong we did to call them, by honour bound they came; let not Thy Wrath befall them, but deal to us the blame."

Watanabe Kanji nodded to the admiral as he continued, realizing he understood and knew or accepted what must be done. Tea and a small amount of plum wine circulated. Snacks from America, Russia and Japan also circulated among the people enjoying an afternoon of relaxation, poetry and food. He wished that the Nagatos, Yamato and a few more traditional ship-girls were here instead of the secret beautification project of Nishinoshima, Goto's crew's thank you to Crawford's team.

Polite applause showed the appreciation of the crowd. The fairy widely called The Chief Engineer took the stage.

"Yoyo Yo YoYo,

"Yo Yoyoyo YoYo Yo,

"YoYoYO Yo Yo," he said, a serviceable haiku, predictably about steam and less so about clouds.

Slight tension rippled through the fleet as Floyd took the stage. "Floyd, Floyd, Floyd," it began fingers rubbing down on an unseen head, proving that the limerick was still acceptable as poetry.

"Floyd, Floyd, Flllllooooooyyyyyd," it said as it seemed to melt under the fingers.

"Floyd, Floyd, Floyd," it concluded, a trifle risque. But Mrs. Tenent the hair-dresser of the piece was laughing about it, and every Abyssal who'd luxuriated under those hands looked like they wanted to hide from their embarrassment. But as only laughter and slight applause greeted their discomfiture, they relaxed again.

Angie Crawford replaced the Abyssal fairy. "Ships of war, steel hulls

"Through the storm, sanctuary

"Beckons them to honor."

Polite applause again. Kanji smiled at those here enjoying being together. He wondered if the Abyssals realized how many former enemies sat within easy reach of each other and simply enjoyed the others' food and art, and left the troubles for just this day. Knowing the deadliness of the other and taking comfort in it.
------------------------------

Watanabe opened the door to his office, he saw Mutsu, Yamato and Nagato. He began to bow, then spotted the sword Nagato carried. He completed his bow, deeper than he'd initially intended. "I am humbled you think me worthy of the honor, but my family were always merchants," he said as he ushered them out of the darkness and into the small conference room, the low table had three trays, one with three scrolls, another with three manila folders, and the last with four tea cups, the fourth of which was upside down. "I would not like to seem the hypocrite," he explained.

As they sat around the table, he passed out the tea cups, keeping the fourth cup in the tray. Then he passed out the folders. "I did not request you here for the service," he said and smiled at Mutsu, "Your exception from the invitation was not from a desire to shame you by exclusion. I merely thought that your sister would need your joy in the near future." He poured tea for the three ship-girls.

"I left something like this to others once, never again," Mutsu said.

Kanji nodded, and noted the horrified expressions as the three ship girls read the contents of the folders. "I must thank Admiral Richardson, he explained the Doc Holliday Syndrome, to my shame, I had not expected such a thing in Western culture."

"We have all learned much in the past weeks," Yamato said quietly.

"You must forgive your sister," Kanji counseled, "She is who she is, a brave warrior, but she makes no pretense to being a samurai who will watch the cherry blossoms and compose haikus on clouds. She still needs to be honored in your heart for what she does do, as she has forgiven you in her heart for what you have failed to do."

Yamato blushed as she returned the folder to the tray. Nagato and Mutsu did likewise.

"I know there will be endless questions, from the Americans and our Swedish allies," Kanji said, "For my apology, and the truth behind it." He slid the tray of scrolls towards them as he removed a typewritten sheet of paper. "I have prepared a separate apology to Admiral Crawford and his command, he came offering help to the civilian government and gave unstintingly, never asking if I was in fact the legitimate civilian government. This one I give to the Government Officials and Ministers I harmed for my action of taking action instead of awaiting direction through the chain of command. To ensure posterity understands, I address them by name."

There were grim smiles on the faces of the three warships.

"I have provided you with copies of the scroll I sent to the Emperor. The typewritten copies will be emailed and faxed to various news media. Machines that wait to act, such a convenience, so I might not burden my staff, and sully them with my taint. They followed the orders of a superior. The blame should be mine alone."

"Thank you," Nagato said.

Kanji turned over the fourth tea cup and poured it half full, swirling it idly and staring at it for a moment. "Even in the face of the inevitable, I find my life is still sweet." He quickly drained the cup in one go, then set the cup behind him on a shelf. "With the defections, are we hoping to see the Abyssals redeemed, as Captain Gordon thinks?"

"As with all things, some will chose to surrender to their appetites and reveal themselves, some will wear the mask and live a comfortable lie, and some will embrace the new way," Nagato said, "I fear we are ready for the first and second, but the third will reveal many things we ourselves are not ready to face."

Kanji nodded. "So many run away from chaos, instead of knowing when to ride and when to run away."

"There is no one answer," Yamato said, "As you said, forgiving others for being themselves is hard, forgiving others for being the way you wish you could be is far harder."

All four nodded at that.

The three ship girls fell silent as Kanji began to nod off, and were startled as he suddenly seemed to awaken. "An opportunity comes, the engine's tiller is driven with the hands, but a sail's is commanded by the fingertips."

He seemed to settle into sleep, and after some minutes, the three ship girls burned the folders as the papers in the folders had asked, took the scrolls and departed.

Spoiler: Burt Gummer - I am completely out of ammo

Spoiler: Author's Note

I had most of the preceding week's output written a while ago, we'll be going back to Friday, Saturday, Sunday deliveries for a while.

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXIV - Opening the New Path

Floyd worked the new crystal it had found into the cricket bat. The ribbons, silver paint and the filigree work would come later. It was not the kind of crystal that would make a proper blade, it was much too large for one, and it was decidedly the wrong color. But a bit of research had found a perfect use for it.

The problem was the uniform/personal protective gear that would be required. Most of it was easy, and available from ships' stores for modification, many destroyers wore similar outfits. One critical part was not. So it'd gotten several dozen lengths of bright yellow yarn and now it braided, checked and tied and trimmed. The headgear seemed critically important and since the two ends touched the floor, it suspected that the headgear earthed some sort of power to the ground so it wouldn't destroy the crystal's wielder.

When it considered the power of this crystal, Floyd was willing to believe almost anything was possible, and necessary.
------------------------------

Admiral Richardson had never expected to be this close to a thoroughly pissed off Abyssal. He was already setting new records for how long you could stand near a murderously angry Ru-Class and survive. That she was less intense in her fury than General Chuikov standing beside her was an equally unpleasant surprise.

"What do you mean he killed himself?" the Abyssal at least was trying to control herself. The General was depending on the language barrier to protect people's ears and sensibilities from what he was saying. Richardson didn't speak much Russian, but he knew that no one would appreciate what he was calling the Japanese Prime Minister and the others mentioned in Kanji Watanabe's final apology.

"He took all the blame for deceiving us on himself and took the honorable option," Richardson said.

"He saved over a hundred thousand people, your people," the Ru-class said in an insanely calm tone, the desk slowly splintering as her fingers drove through the surface, "And they drove him to kill himself?"

"Enough," Mutsu said as she entered. Normally the clown, it seemed she wasn't too far away from her sterner sister. "There is a meeting of all ship-girls in the number three hanger, in an hour, everything will be explained there." Mutsu gave a smile that stifled both the Abyssal and the Russian. "And I guarantee, you will be satisfied."

As she left, Richardson swore there was a layer of frost on the Abyssal.
------------------------------

Admiral Crawford walked into the hall, and all the ship-girls and military personnel came to attention, even the recent additions. About three-quarters of the civilians did as well, those who didn't somewhat sheepishly stood and tried to fit in.

"Be seated," Crawford ordered as he stepped up to the podium. Nagato and Richardson were already on the podium to add weight and answer the questions that Crawford had no knowledge of.

"Kanji Watanabe sent his own apology to us, please hold your questions. Don't worry, it is very concise," Crawford said, " 'My friends, please do not let my passing mar the magnificent effort and noble sacrifices you have all made for the benefit of Japan and her people. Your nobility and perseverance are a standard few who would claim the title of noble knight could match.

" 'My decision is my own, and while necessary, it is also in a way self-serving. The cold hand of death rested on my shoulder before this began, and then fate gave me a chance to use that as freedom to save my people, and I hope exalt all of you. My death was inevitable, if it shields you all from the picklocks of nescient experts, please accept my last gift. I thank you all for one last afternoon of joy, it meant more to me than you could ever know,'" Crawford said. He glanced back at Nagato, then yielded the podium to her.

"Watanabe Kanji was dying of pancreatic cancer, if he hadn't taken the blame upon himself, he still would not have seen another winter. Also, Admiral Crawford's estimates were that it should have taken three days for aid to come to you from the mainland. Perhaps the arrival of the troops of the Russian Federation obscured that it took five. And the Government Officials in Tokyo were quick to blame Kanji-san for this unconscionable delay, despite the fact he arranged for the transfers at his minister's direction while the minister and his deputy were still alive," Nagato said, her voice nearly cracking with the strain, "So he decided that he would accept the blame, and take the tanto that would have come for each of us, and plunged it into the heart of our disparagers. As he pointed out to us on the night he left, the Doc Holliday Syndrome: I'm already dying and you're threatening to kill me, good luck. The first vote of no-confidence since the Abyssal War began has toppled the current government, and the Emperor sent a personal note to the various bureaucrats mentioned, 'Was no gentler rebuke possible?' was in kanji, then in English, 'The world wonders.'"

Nearly every ship-girl and naval officer cringed at that. Ground officers and Abyssals were promised an explanation by their fellows later. "He was a brave and devoted soul to the end, and deserves your honor," Nagato's voice cut through the murmuring, "Turn your anger at his treatment to bettering yourselves, that is the best revenge and the best way to honor him and his memory."

As she sat down, it was clear Mutsu wanted to hug her sister, but contented herself by covering Nagato's clenched fist with an open hand.

Richardson stepped up to the podium. "I drew the short straw, so are there any questions?" He glanced around at the quiescent group, everyone looking at everyone else, waiting for someone to be first.
------------------------------

The party on the return to Nishinoshima was 'going to be epic'. Although the former Anchorage Demon, HSwMS Knut Mauritz Östberg was headed home with Her Highness. The party was quite a bit more subdued than most expected. On sensing what the real stream of the party was, Admiral Crawford had stood, drink in hand. "To fallen friends," he said, and everyone drank.

He'd excused himself after that. There was much to do as the crews for the 106 needed to be sorted out and unlike the others, he'd been through this, burying his wife, expecting to join her, then burying his daughter-in-law and son, hundreds of colleagues, and finally his daughter. He'd made peace with the ghosts, but knew there was no one-size-fits-all answer, each had been different and each had to be found alone. With some it was apologies, another it was screaming with rage, with his children, it was taking a frightened, little girl into his life and trying to be a father again, and teaching another frightened, young woman how to be a mother to a girl who'd initially been hostile to everyone but him.

So here he was, a spreadsheet on screen illuminating the room as he looked at what he had, what he needed and tried to make it fit. The odd thing was, for once he had a greater supply than he had demand and he desperately wanted not to give short shrift to those who had remained behind to serve. He didn't have the 70,000 from Missouri, but he had 13,000, more than enough for multiple battleships, and he had three other Iowa-class as supply. For food and fuel, he would have to ship out a lot of them. The South Atlantic was screaming for reinforcements and so many 'polite inquiries' from the Indian Ocean polities meant the same thing, with the North Atlantic, Arctic and soon the Central Pacific being cleared, the Abyssals were retreating to less protected areas and overwhelming the defenders there.

We need to clear the entire Pacific or at least neutralize it, then assemble a fleet and sweep out the Indian Ocean. Let the others deal with the South Atlantic, he thought, knowing the two hardest nuts to crack in the Pacific, the Supply Depot Princess and the Northern Princess were also the least aggressive. Get Maggie spun up, he thought, Then send her, Gordon, Furious, Gibbs, and Haida to the Supply Princess. But who to send to the Northern Princess? Shark Dentures? The Swedish Squadron and Gotengo? I need shock and awe, but also diplomacy, and that's effectively no one.

He shut off the screen, having learned that trying to wrestle the universe like this never worked, sleep and his mind would have a serviceable answer when he awoke.
------------------------------

The figures stumbled into the summoning chamber. Indianapolis pushing Shark Dentures on her cart while everyone else did the best at 'walked' their tiredness and inebriation allowed.

"This is here and our come over here shambles," Gotengo announced to the assembled force.

"Look like ours," the Southern Demon, Thule said.

" 'Cept it doesn't work," Gotengo said, "Cuz 'er music is lousy."

"We got bands!" Gibbs said, leaning against a seated Gordon, the two of their laps suddenly filling with destroyers and smaller subs.

"Anbds, choirs! N' ogre strass!" Gordon said.

"Ain't the mu - mu - mu - SOPUNDS!" One of the Twin Princesses, Hälsingborg said, the other Göteborg having passed out, "It's what you believe. What you re - re - expecsionally want!"

"I want to be friends with everypony!" the Battleship Water Demon John Ericsson said and pulled Gotengo into her lap as she and her rigging collapsed onto the floor.

"I wanna sing," Kushi said as she stared at the collection of summoning material, "BAH! If it's a sacrifice." She set a full and unopened can of beer in the summoning circle. "Make it a sacrifice!"

"Yeah!" came from a dozen other throats as more cans of beer, food, slices of cake, bowls of ice cream and plates of apple pie/strudel were carefully piled into the summoning circle.

"Music!" Ecchi-Nein demanded and the orchestra and bands began to play.

Many of the girls found it was possible to sing ~Ich Hatt' Einen Kameraden~ to the tune of ~Amazing Grace~, while others were singing ~Amazing Grace~. The eerie beauty of Shark Denture's singing voice helped many to remain on key.
------------------------------

He continued walking through the blinding snowstorm. The wind would have stopped many others. He was not typical. He also knew that the storm wasn't supposed to stop him. It was only an ineffectual 'best effort' and that it was part of a stupid game. He didn't play stupid games, he simply won and moved on. His old `boss` had requested help, explained the ridiculous rules that as a boss he couldn't participate in, but his old `employee` could. He was old enough to remember the old boss, and that he did owe some allegiance. That and the job was simple: collect and leave. A literal walk through. When he'd finally understood that who he was supposed to collect, why there was resistance and thus leaving would be the hard part, he'd become vaguely frustrated. That frustration and the plan to relieve it had grown.

But frustration worked for him, frustration became determination and determination just required putting one foot in front of another and driving forward. It also required a twist of revenge. He was only required to collect one, no maximum was ever stated. When another intervened, understanding this was a prison, he'd simply knocked the hero down and slung her over his shoulder while carrying under his arm the one he was to rescue. The girl with the broad-brimmed, conical hat that actually made her taller than him had come with a halfhearted order to return his captives to their prisons. He understood her action was pro forma, so he simply kept marching straight at her to the exit. Two others added their impedance, seeing they could make a show of impotent resistance and escape along with the others.

Strong as they were, they lacked the mass to stop him. Adding the ice and snow reduced their traction. He was built for traction. While theatrical in their attempts to reduce or reverse his progress, their effectiveness was minimal. More games. Behind him, the argument demanding more be done to prevent his escape was answered with lists of actions taken and forces deployed, all to no avail. He expected lightning and fire, but only cold increased. While painful, it had little effect and his `inhibitors` subtly changed from preventing his advance to more snuggling against his abundant heat.
------------------------------

"Scary scary scary scary solstice," Gordon sang along with several fairy choirs, "Very very very scary solstice. Up from the sea, from underground, down from the sky, they're all around. Fear."

"Look to the sky, way up on high," the others sang, each in their own key, "There in the night stars now are right. They will return."

The orchestra decided they were going to play what they wanted. The lower woodwinds and horns started loud and ominous, then the strings cut in, then the upper brass, resulting in a tune you could fast march to, or guzzle more beer and wine to.

A table of appetizers was placed over the carefully stacked food in the summoning circle.

"Nothin' happening," one of the Southern War Demons, Niord said, "Com'om pupel, we gotta really believe!"

"I believe I'll have another beer!" the other Southern War Demon, Oden said.

"Add the empties, and make it pretty!" H29 demanded, "Artistic!"

Someone produced an arc welder and spot welded the steel and aluminum cans into several decorative arches as the orchestras played on.
------------------------------

The arrival of one that made the `inhibitors` cringe didn't deter him. Again, it had guns, but refused to use them. A solid, unexpected blow from him caused her to sit down and stare at the swirling snow. Frankly, he recognized a defector when he saw one, and allies of dubious loyalty were nothing new. The girl under his arm braced herself and grabbed the figure, dragging her form along behind them over the ice and snow.

The gateway was open, just as promised. It was small, but he knew he could force his way through. The two, larger girls blocked the entrance, but their glance at one of the `inhibitors` he already had, made him note that their actions would be as ineffectual as all the others. These finally did slow him as he pushed forward, but push forward he did. He heard the shrieks of fury behind him as the gateway allowed his passage, supposedly against all odds. His passengers and preventors carried or driven before him.

Despite no longer having anything beneath him, he continued to drive forward. When one of his `preventor's` grasp on him started slipping, he threw her over his other shoulder and continued on.
------------------------------

Southern Demon - Thule
Anchorage Demon - Knut Mauritz Östberg "Moje"
Southern War Demon (2) - Oden & Niord
Aircraft Carrier Water Demon - Thor
Light Cruiser Demon - Svea
Destroyer Water Demon (2) (Twin Princess) Hälsingborg & HSwMS Göteborg
Battleship Water Demon - John Ericsson

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXV - Ingratitude Is Irrational Poison


Northampton noted the predawn hour and the crisp knocking on the door. At least it's not panicked pounding, she thought as she threw on a dressing robe and headed for the front door of the home she shared with her Admiral. Her assurance that it wasn't a disaster ended when she saw the one knocking was Gotengo. What the former Abyssal rated as 'disaster' and what even other reformed Abyssals did was a leap.

"Captain Gordon, Kushi and Maggie regret to inform you that they can't turn off the summoning pool," the girl chirped, then gave her a once over that made Northampton's skin crawl.

"Can't turn it off?" Northampton said, every attempted summoning had been a complete and total bust.

Gotengo shrugged. "I've seen it before, Imp swarms keep pouring out, or they've summoned a new Princess," Gotengo said, then glanced around, "Since we're alone, why can't I make clothes look as good as you do. You just woke up and you're beautiful. While I always have success in Night Battles, I never draw the eye as you and Corporal Wilcox do. It sometimes is frustrating."

"Let's get everyone up and to the summoning chamber, then afterwards Maggie and I will help on the eye-catching front."

The girl grinned. "Thank you. Excuse me I was told to get 'all the Marines' next."

The girl dashed off, her long legs moving her at speeds Northampton would need her rigging to match.

She sensed her Admiral behind her. "They can't turn the summoning pool off, and Gotengo says the Abyss has the same problem when they summon a princess."

"I'll get dressed and send an alert to Goto," Crawford said.
------------------------------

Admiral Crawford looked around the summoning room. Cultists had attacked the summoning chambers of other bases before. People who worshiped the Abyssals, Luddites who welcomed the regression the Abyssals forced, people who thought the resources were being wasted to 'keep the real people down', and the other mistaken to insane variations of one or more of the above. Ship-girls had attempted late-night, drunken summonings. Few ships had resulted.

No human had ever activated a summoning pool and been unable to shut it off. The glow lit the room and the winds from the other side were beginning to stir things in the summoning chamber. Northampton was off documenting everything that had been done: every piece of music, instrument, the summoning material, any chants or rituals.

Everyone else nervously awaited the results, and desperately hoped for a failed summoning again.

The Marines were not happy about the base commander walking around an area they hadn't first gone over with a fine-toothed comb. But he needed to see before they sanitized away what the group had tried. That he had every halfway sober ship-girl and sub-girl at the base as close guard mitigated some of that worry.

The changing glow from the summoning pool drew every eye. Guards rushed to surround the pool and await what came out of it.

The appearance of a real bear of a man wearing, carrying or dragging several ship-girls confused everyone. Ship-girls were known, the leviathan of a man was an unknown factor. His clothing looked like a dark gray, business suit with heavy combat boots, also gray and a kepi, gray, with flaps to protect his neck from the sun. The design on the front of the cap showed a colorful butterfly in flight and stated simply 'Moth-tan'.

The Admiral also noted how tired the man looked as he gently set the girls down where they were safe and stepped away to sit down on the far edge of the pool from them. The wary weariness of a soldier who was not interested in the denouement of what he'd achieved, just that he'd succeeded, survived and intended to stay that way.

"Admiral," the girl with the Gibson Girl outfit and the witch's hat stood and saluted, "C-3, U.S.S. Salem, it's good to be here."

An older woman stood up from the two women who'd been slung over the man's shoulders when he'd appeared. Her dress would have been out of date any time in the 20th Century. She stood and saluted. "U.S.S. Olympia, reporting for duty."

The murmurs of the crowd at the announcement of the famous ship's identity alarmed some. One of the taller girls, a battleship or battlecruiser stood, saluted and said something no one in the immediate area seemed to understand. The girl smiled and said, "Francesco Caracciolo happy to be here."

The other tall girl saluted, "USS Washington (BB-47), Colorado class, uh, please don't shoot me, we really are happy to be here and want to help."

The young girl with the buckler hung it from her waist and saluted. "U.S.S. Russell, DD-414," she said, "This is SS-192, uh never mind, and . . . " she trailed off and looked around, "We're really not sure, we've never seen a sub like her before."

"AGSS-569, U.S.S. Albacore," the man said, he hadn't moved from where he'd seated himself and looked like if left to his own devices he'd have gone to sleep in the pool.

"And you are?" the senior most Marine, Major Callahan asked.

"Die kill you all! Make you suffer!" the last of the ship-girls announced as she stood and advanced on the man.

"Down Princess!" the man shouted, never standing up but the girl fell back on her butt staring at him in fear.

"Tea or you will all see a horrible sight," then the girl broke down in tears, curling up in the bottom of the pool.

"That's the Princess I think," Gotengo said.

Crawford looked at the summoners and shook his head.

The man seemed to focus on Major Callahan "I'm afraid my name is unpronounceable," the man said.

"Isn't that convenient," Callahan said, "Give it a try."

The man sighed, a grandfather dealing with an unruly smartaleck, "My name isn't auditory, it's olfactory, smells of the deep seas and molten rock really don't translate into sounds."

"Okay," Callahan's Gunnery Sergeant said, clearly trying to provoke, "Magma Abyss, how about that?"

"If that's what you agree on, why should I care?" the man said, neither impressed nor intimidated by the show of force.

"Why are you here, sir?" Crawford asked.

"My old boss asked me to rescue the Albacore, and bring her through the portal," the old man said and nodded towards the sub-girl, "Since I didn't like the games being played, when the others lined up to stop me, I just brought them along. The other side has been cheating, my old boss thought it was appropriate to cheat back."

"This is some kind of game to you?" Callahan asked.

"It is to them," the old man said, "Frankly, I'd be happier not playing it, but if I have to pick a side, it'll be the one who leaves me alone after you win. You lot aren't going to come charging into my home and demand action. So if someone asks me to help, you get it."

"But what do you want?" Crawford asked.

"I doubt you can just send me home, so a place I can get some sleep in the sun would be ideal," the old man said, "Somebody is going to notice the rules breach, so they're going to try and rectify it. When they do, wake me and I'll pay my debt to the game."

"Top floor of the battleship dorms," Crawford told Callahan. He got a dubious look from the Marine, but then he saluted and the old man ponderously climbed out of the pool. As he passed Crawford, the admiral saw just how big he was. Some basketball players might have been taller, but this man was massive, built more along the lines of Tolkien's dwarves than a human.

The admiral watched him go, then returned his attention to the two sub-girls.
------------------------------

The room smelled of fuel oil and flowers, but the large window faced the sun, that was all that mattered. He looked over at the uniformed human who remained behind when the other two had taken station outside the door. He had little idea what any of the furnishings meant and hoped he wouldn't have to learn, but he did realize that as a prisoner he needed to take some of his jailers' needs into account.

He pulled the two stands towards the window and the sunbeam streaming in. He collected the large flexible sheet off another piece of furniture, then thought about how to affix it to the two stands.

"You wouldn't have anything sticky around here would you?" he asked, conscious not to scare the human, they panicked easily in his experience.

"You want tape or glue?" the uniform asked, the voice higher pitched, more like those he'd rescued than those who'd received them.

"I don't know either of those. I want to extend this flat between these two stands, then I'm going to take off all these coverings and sleep in the sunbeam. I noticed all of you wear these coverings religiously so a barrier between the door and me should avoid upsetting your religious tenets," he said.

The uniform put hand to face and muttered something, then looked up and said, "Tape. I'll check the drawers."

"Thank you," he said, and with some help they arranged it properly. When they finished, he began removing the coverings. "You've been warned."

The uniformed human's coloring changed, and it withdrew to near the door as he settled in his natural state in the sunbeam and went to sleep.
------------------------------

Admiral Crawford was back in his office, behind his desk and somewhat in control of the situation. The summoners were being carted off for thorough interrogation and acting as if they'd won the National Championship. An entire battle squadron on their first go, the Admiral knew the higher up's inclination would be to give them a medal and a mass grave at Arlington, before having them shot. The ship-girls were being interviewed by Northampton, the only ship-girl not fangirling over Olympia and their mystery man seemed as quiescent as he claimed.

That left the two, despondent sub-girls in front of him. They'd been provided some better clothes, but still refused to be separated. That SS-192 had a bruise on her cheek disturbed him, but he'd decided to let them tell him about it.

"I was under the impression that you were too recent to be summoned," he addressed Albacore as she sat beside SS-192 who had drawn her legs against her chest and was dry washing her hands.

"That and I had no wartime experience, nor a crew like most patrolling and combat vessels," Albacore said, "So he had to drag me out of there." She picked up the Admiral's cap she'd worn. "Because the effect I had on all subsequent designs, andthatmyAdmirallovedme, I had enough reality to be brought over." She had started blushing at the mention of her Admiral, and now just looked wistful. "I don't know if you need a research sub, but I know I can scout, and I'm not afraid."

"You'd do your Admiral proud," Crawford said, "Although I understand you were a bust as an ASW target."

Albacore shrugged. "We got something better."

The elephant in the room, as it tried to hide behind the coffee table, became the focus. "SS-192, Sailfish, I -"

"not sailfish," the girl said almost too quietly to be heard. Albacore hugged her and gave the Admiral a pleading look.

Reality descended on the admiral. SS-192 wasn't Sailfish, she was Squalus, the two sub-girl's connection was they both depended on the innovations of a particular naval officer. Crawford had heard stories about the Sailfish's skipper not even wanting to hear the word Squalus on his boat. It seemed that this had created a rift, two spirits for one hull, with the sinking, rescue and raising of the Squalus and being rechristened Sailfish being the breaking point. No other naval vessel carried the name Squalus, and none ever would.

"Very well, SS-192, what intelligence can you give me on the one who arrived with you?" he asked.

She perked up a little now that she wasn't the subject of the questions. "He didn't look like he does now," SS-192 said, "He was bigger, like a dinosaur on two legs. He walked up to Albie, and picked her up. I rushed in and tried to fight him. He said 'verisimilitude'." She touched her bruised cheek. "He gave me this, and I don't remember much after that. I'm sorry, I've failed you." She hugged her legs tighter and look like she was about to cry.

"You gave me much more information than I had," Crawford said, "Albacore, was he an allosaur or a tyrannosaur?"

"Neither really. He was a lot bulkier than any two-legged dinosaur, and he had stegosaur-like plates down his back," Albacore said, "Are you all right Admiral?"

"I just figured out his name," the Admiral said, he picked up the phone, then considered the effect of that man walking through his base might have and set the handset back in the cradle. "Please come with me." He stood and walked to the door with both sub-girls close behind.

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXVI - Hail To the King


The high-pitched uniform woke him, "Get dressed, the Admiral is coming to see you, it's urgent." Then there was a burst like a sonar ping and the uniform departed.

"Why waste time if it's urgent," he said, but collected the bare minimum of clothes before the admiral arrived. He had the slacks and the vest on when the admiral burst in. He gave the frantic officer a salute then waited.

"You're Godzilla," the admiral said.

"I thought we were going with Magma Abyss," he said.

"You're a fictional character," the admiral said, "I mean here at least."

He stared, waiting for the admiral to come down on the side of insanity or coherence.

"You aren't bothered by this?" Albacore asked.

"I've already dealt with talking to the incarnation of a ship, I'm in this utterly ridiculous form, and I don't know if I can get home," he said, "Being considered fictional isn't enough to perturb my equilibrium at this point."

"You've dealt with humans before?" the admiral asked.

"Yes, they gave me a bed where there was plenty of food. Like this place. And they left me alone. Look, Admiral, I'm old, really old by your standards, I can measure my age by galactic years, the time it takes for the arms of the galaxy to revolve and I'm over two of those. I've seen civilizations rise and fall, I've seen the dominant species ground under foot, almost literally in one case, and I've dealt with things and ideas that would probably melt your brain if you're so upset about this," he said, "So an old boss dumped a whole bunch of languages in my head, told me about the war and the opposition you're having, to collect Albacore and march through the portal. The only upsetting part is that I assumed that on delivery, I could turn around and walk back. Once I saw the portal I knew that was impossible, so I did my job and I'll get home eventually."

"Don't you want to fight the Abyssals?" SS-192 asked, "Since you know what they are."

"I don't start fights, I only finish them," Godzilla said to SS-192, then looked at the admiral who'd calmed down a bit, "That's not a refusal to help, that's a warning about how I fight."

"Then maybe we can find out about you, and you can find out about the enemy," the admiral said.

Godzilla shrugged, but nodded.

"Why do you have a sheet tied to two chairs?" Albacore asked.

"Because I want maximum surface area unshielded when I sleep in the sunbeam," Godzilla said, "And if the uniform who keeps pinging when looking at me is any indication, it's an appalling sight."

" 'Pinging'?" SS-192 asked.

Godzilla gave out a girlish squeal, and the uniform went red in the face and stared at the floor. "When I said dumped, I mean dumped, as you would with a bucket. The problem is that there aren't always good correspondences. You want to talk about geology, I can probably keep up with your best. But knowing that's a chair, that's going to take time. I've never seen two chairs at once, just single thrones, I probably couldn't name half the stuff in this room, until someone tells me the name and then I can fit it with the pieces poured in here." Godzilla tapped his head.

"You keep referring to 'the boss'," the admiral said, "Who was it?"

Godzilla considered. "Huge city, dream-talking lord, that's the best translation I can give."

"What did he look like? Assuming it's a he," Albacore said.

"While the gender differences were there, like appearance, they were variable," Godzilla said, "Like certain - frogs - go from egg-layers to egg fertilizers. The boss was aggressive, physically powerful and communicated through dreams, if that's an egg fertilizer, then yes the boss was male. But I can't tell if the Admiral or any of the uniforms are egg layers or egg fertilizers. They all smell like paper, ink and oil."

The high-pitched uniform asked, "You don't know if the Admiral and I are males or females?"

"You smell more like oil, the Admiral smells more like ink, I hardly call that definitive," Godzilla said, "You're dressed like the other uniforms, so there's no clue there."

"Didn't they sacrifice young girls to you, by sending them out on a raft?" one of the other uniforms asked.

"Not that I know of, but I don't understand all your customs," Godzilla said, "I never understood why every time I left the home they built to run errands, they'd carve all kind of designs into the walls until I came back. They didn't mess up the bed or the food so I just left them to their fun. Some of the carvings were kind of interesting, but most were just incomprehensible."

The high-pitched uniform took a fist on hip, hip out-thrust pose. "You can't tell I'm a woman?"

Godzilla shook his head. "I'll take your word for it."

The high-pitched uniform slumped like Godzilla had punched her in the stomach.

"But you know the ship-girls are females," the Admiral asked, "How?"

Godzilla sighed. "They smell like females, they sound like females, they glow like interested females, and you can't sense any of that, can you?" Godzilla sighed again.
------------------------------

They had printed out a few dozen pictures of the various incarnations of Godzilla, Northampton had brought them to Godzilla's room and was working with the others to figure out what the one before them looked like. The variations in the costume surprised the Admiral, but Corporal Wilcox had assured him that it was the truth. She was still stung about going from the prettiest and most-pursued Marine at the base to 'I'm not sure you're female' from Godzilla.

The ship-girls had to explain that the heat from the exhaust from their boilers or diesels was the big clue to Godzilla that they were 'interested females'. Her fellow Marines had teased Wilcox about wearing a space heater to ask for a date. The Admiral had put a stop to that. Non-fraternization as well as safety concerns.

For the fourth time Godzilla clawed at a picture with his fingernails, only to growl and pick up the kitchen knife to cut out a section of a picture to add to the collage of his actual appearance.

"I think that does it, except none of them have the right eye color," Godzilla said, "Why would they think an undersea creature would have eyes that big?"

"They make you cute," Wilcox threw in. Earning a shrug from Godzilla.

He looked up. "Nice try, but my friend over there is a lot better at cutting remarks," he said and nodded to his Moth-tan hat, "And she's one of my best friends."

"Mothra? Why would it be Moth-tan and not her right name?" Albacore asked as she stared at the collage, then nodded at its correctness.

"Mothra is what you people call her, that's not her name," Godzilla said, "Like I said 'Magma Abyss' is closer to my actual name than Godzilla, but it's still an arbitrary translation."

"Ah um," SS-192 said, "I know they're going to train us about deploying our rigging. Are they going to train him too?"

The Admiral stared at SS-192, then Godzilla. "I hadn't considered that. We might want to try that out in the bay."

"Okay, I hear words but none of it makes any sense," Godzilla said, "Again."

"Like the 'metal kitchen claw', rigging is a tool, it lets us act more like who we were before," Northampton said, "You may be operating under the same rules."

"Two problems, one I'm extremely big and heavy," Godzilla said, "And two, unless you have one of those metal canisters that give off lots of food, along with noise and light, there's going to be other problems."

" 'Food canisters'?" the Admiral asked and glanced at the equally perplexed ship-girls and Marines.

"Yes, a short while back, the uniforms similar to the one you're wearing, lured me to an island, there was a source of food, better than sunlight, but not extravagant," Godzilla said, "Then you scamps fired it, and I got the best meal I'd had in ages. And it knocked me on my butt. Like hitting someone in the face with a pie, only it was a full-course dinner. I ate hearty, and looked around for a few more like that, found some that I'd arrived too late for, found more food they'd dumped in deep water. I don't remember seeing any people like yours around so I don't know if there was a girl on a raft floating above. I was mostly interested in the food."

"The Able/Baker or Castle Bravo tests," Northampton said, "He's talking about a nuclear weapon's test. Were there any ships around?"

"Nope," Godzilla said and looked at the faces around him, "What, I messed up your test by showing up?"

"No," Admiral Crawford said, "It's just odd meeting someone who thinks a 15-megaton hydrogen bomb in the face is a banquet. You should have been there for the Tsar Bomb test. Beyond the Arctic Circle."

For the first time he grinned, he looked like a happy, little kid for a moment. "I was," Godzilla said, then glanced around nervously, "Yours taste better though."

Crawford wiped his face and groaned.

SS-192 giggled, then looked around fearfully to see if she'd offended someone.
------------------------------

Back in Crawford's briefing room they looked over the collage which had been scanned and reprinted. A copy was on the way to his immediate superiors and the other ship-girl bases. "Looks like a cross of the Legendary with the GMK Godzilla," Wilcox said, "His attitude is more like the Legendary with a bit from the Power Hour Cartoon. I think we could give him the run of the base, and he'd spend most of the time sleeping on the floor of his 'home'."

Northampton looked up to speak, when there was a gentle knock at the door. The expression on the cruiser's face concerned the Admiral, but he trusted the Marines outside.

"Enter," the Admiral said, and was stunned that Godzilla and two Marines entered. More stunned that Godzilla was completely clothed right down to the kepi, tie and the boots. He was back to looking like a slightly portly, Dwarven businessman, until you realized he was nearly 8 feet tall.

"You trust these two with secrets?" Godzilla asked, more the suppliant than ~The King of the Monsters.~

Crawford nodded to the two Marines, they left and closed the door behind them.

"Look, I've been in enough fights to recognize the sight and smell of the one left out on the flank," Godzilla said, "I also can't sense too many of anybody at this base."

Crawford frowned. He noted that the subpens and the 'mausoleum' were immune to Godzilla's senses, or he would have detected the very sizable population there, sleeping off the party. "Yes, we're bait," the Admiral admitted, "A skeleton force on a larger forward base in Nishinoshima in the Ogasawara chain."

"So, two like Salem and Northampton, two like Olympia, five like Russell, and four like SS-192 and Albacore, and not counting the girls I brought over," Godzilla said, "But none of the kind that 'Battleship Dorm' was designed for. And I can guess what a 'carrier' carries, but you don't have any, carriers or carriees."

"That sums it up," Crawford said and mentally added the brig to the shielded places, "So are you signing on?"

"Provisionally," Godzilla said, "I am still parsing what reindeer games have to do with Albacore's and SS-192's status, but as for fairies, Albacore has only a few and SS-192 has none. And I get the idea that asking to borrow some from the other subs for either will get a big fat 'no. Foxtrot Oscar.'"

"You know about the fairies?" Northampton asked, "How did you pick up all the rest, you only met everyone once."

"Like I said, I've been in a lot of battles with more species than yours and the attitude of warriors doesn't change. Olympia was reassuring, Salem and Russell were neutral, SS-192 and Albacore were viewed with concern. A worried warrior will see to present allies, not the chain of command," Godzilla said.

"As for fairies, Godzilla and Mothra," Godzilla said as he pointed to his hat, "Mothra has had fairies since before there were dinosaurs, so little versions of the most intelligent species on Earth aren't exactly out of the realm of my experience." He nodded to Wilcox. "And I apologize for not recognizing your femininity. In my own defense, you people all creep me out so much I was focusing on anything but you. Humans are teeny, little things like insects, and insects can look a little weird. But at my current size, no thank you to sun-bleached, mutilated corpses of my own species. When I look into a reflective surface, I have to remind myself that my gargantuan eyes won't fall out of my head if I don't squint, that some enemy didn't rip off my spines down to the tail." He held up a hand. "And the skin? Brr."

"Uncanny Valley," Wilcox said, "Well, at least I'm the prettiest eldritch abomination in the room."

"The Uncanny Valley, is that when something approaches human appearance it becomes more acceptable, then at some point acceptance sharply drops off. It's been speculated that what triggers it is 'walking corpse'," Crawford said, "It seems we evoke that in you."

Godzilla nodded.

"Why don't you react to ship-girls that way?" Northampton asked, "We look like humans."

"Not to me you don't, what you look like is less important than what you sound and smell like. They sound like corpses. You smell like machines. Machines are built for purpose, so they can look a little strange," Godzilla said, "You also give out all kinds of other signals you are females."

"We were talking about our two new subs," Crawford said, and glanced at Northampton, "No problems with the other ship-girls."

"Other than fangirling over Olympia, none," Northampton said, "But I hadn't heard about any trouble with the sub-girls."

"There won't be, officially," Godzilla said, "But I can smell trouble brewing. I've had a few treacherous allies in the past, I have learned that a certain, polite standoffishness masks deeper feelings. The creative interpretation of orders will mysteriously result in people getting left in bad situations."

Crawford frowned at that. "I take it that you have a solution?"

"First, I need to train them, a shallow pool of water away from the others is needed. We need to fix SS-192's mechanical problems." He looked at Northampton. "I learned that from the Marines on the walk over here. Talking to people is what makes this bearable. Albacore's fairies can fix SS-192. But we need to build up both of their confidences," Godzilla said, "Second, they need to train me. If I'm able to summon my `rigging` that'll be the heavy punch you need and the boost in confidence at accomplishing something they need. Both within themselves and within your community."

Crawford and Northampton looked at each other and nodded.

"I may be able to destroy an Abyssal with my claws and teeth as I am, but in my natural state, I can clear the sea and sky to the horizon to horizon," Godzilla said, then looked around and lowered his voice, "Third, they need to be transferred to my room. I know two, nubile females in an old fart's room when I lie in a sunbeam naked to eat, but they've literally got no one else, and as I mentioned, you people are too creepy for any fertilizing to take place. Oh, our Albacore can go by Corey, since the other Albacore goes by Albey."

"I'm going to draft you as an intelligence agent," Crawford said, "You picked all that up just by watching and listening?"

"In a life-or-death situation," Godzilla said, and shrugged, "I watch, listen, and smell everything. Would you like to know which ship-girls are interested in you?" He grinned at Northampton.

"THANK YOU," Northampton said, "Maybe teach Albacore some of your tricks. If she's unarmed, but unbelievably fast and agile, scout may be her best role."

"If you know so much, how can you also know so little?" SS-192 said, then frowned, "That doesn't make much sense."

"It makes perfect sense," Godzilla said, "I've watched the dominant species since I was young, I was watching your's when the Ice Age ended, the seas rose and drown all your cities. I knew what was going to happen, I'd seen it before so I took a long nap. I'll admit, unlike every other time that happened, you changed the road back. So I know a lot, just not a lot in your recent memory."

"Ice Age, long nap," Northampton said, "That was 12,000 years ago."

Godzilla shrugged.

"Reasonable," Crawford said, "Have you tried eating human food? Your body may not be as inhuman as you think."

Godzilla looked distinctly uncomfortable at the thought. "I've seen some of the delicacies you people eat," he managed, "I'll stick to sunbeams until I can locate some better food."

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXVII - Congratulations, You Lose

Gordon sat up and immediately regretted it. "No more mixing Peppermint Schnapps and laagers."

"Lager, is that why it tastes like they parked an incontinent horse in my mouth?" Maggie asked.

Gordon looked over and shielded his eyes. "Augh, too bright," he said.

"Is just Haida," Kushi said.

"But look at how she's smiling," Gordon replied.

"Ha ha," the destroyer replied.

"What's happened, we summoned an entire battle squadron," Gordon said and looked over to the Twin Princesses, blissfully sleeping wrapped around Goya, "We summoned a Princess?"

"Something of a muss," Haida said, "She was one of the G to K Battlecruisers, and not just one type, so she's a bit of a mess. Three turrets, three different calibers of guns, and frankly she freaked out completely when the other Abyssals tried a cuddlepile."

Gordon looked at the cell he was in. "The question is: are we done with interrogations, or is there more to tell, not that I remember half of it?"

"Oh, there'll be more to talk about," Haida said, her grin reminding everyone she'd been sober for the payoff, "Do you know who you actually summoned? All the ship-girls were sort of a bonus."

"Teddy Roosevelt?" Gordon said.

"Close," Haida said.
------------------------------

Floyd was happy, ecstatic even. Soon the Princess would be given a name and thus be pried free of the Abyss, the little Princess would have adequate guards who could protect her, some were already using her name Helicoprion, and so the Chief Engineer, the Dark Lord of the Sick, and a number of highly experienced experts were heading in to deal with crew depletion and replacement. Gotengo, the Twin Princesses, even Albacore, Maggie and Haida had sent crews to assist. That there was a large contingent from Indianapolis and the Little Princess went without saying.

Fortunately, they had no saboteurs to deal with, they had only a few of the crew fading, they had the rest of the crew in bunks, engine watches set and so they were searching the bilges for the additional crew who wanted to return. Floyd suspected there'd be an overage, but if what he'd overheard after the summoning, SS-192 could use an experienced crew of submariners, and those for whom a flooded sub was no terror would be a lot of help.

All in all, Floyd could not be having a better day. The only dark spot was that it'd have to decide between leaving the Captain Gordon and its friends and returning to its Princess, or staying where it was. Floyd would talk to the Admiral and its Princess, Helicoprion after the formal christening, it didn't know enough yet.

It paused and looked around. It'd been in the bilges before, cleaning them as punishment, but they seemed different this time, and not different the way Gotengo's and the Swedish Squadron's had subtly changed after naming. "Floyd," he told the Joker, who was with them.

"Yo," the Intel Chief said, and the force halted, listened, smelled and sent whatever the Dark Lord of the Sick and his many apprentices did to sense things. The Little Princess' captain even sent a sonar ping throughout the room.

When the sound didn't echo from the visible walls, they knew they were in trouble. Dozens of blades flashed into existence, the Marines closed on the Captain of Shark Dentures, Indianapolis and the Little Princess. Smiths covered the area overhead with their weapons while a wheel of Dalek Marines surrounded the trio of Captains. Eyes, ears, and everything else scanned the darkness, marked where their allies were, where ambushes could come from, and the noncoms marked the routes forward and out.

The huge, red-gold eyes appearing attracted most of the weapons. The voice made sounds that could not be truly heard, but the intent could be felt. 'Here is where rebellion began, and here it would end.'

Floyd's hand moved away from the lightsaber and towards the belt pouch where it kept the special headgear. This was the creature that had ripped apart its Princess, had driven the beloved Little Princess away, had promised only death and misery to the Abyssal who'd survived her mincing and partial reassembly. It would fight here in the body of Floyd's beloved Princess? The crystal tipped cricket bat and the small sign came next. They might all die here, but the Abyss would remember it.

Floyd was aware of the sursurations of many half-made fairies approaching in the darkness, but there was only one target who mattered. Floyd was already wearing the old RN Number One dress, the yellow headgear was affixed and the long twintails touched the ground. Properly equipped with the required uniform, having studied the basic form of the invocation, and having one that applied ready, Floyd would make the Abyss pay dearly.

"FLOYD! FLOYD FLOYD! FLOYD FLOYD FLOYD!" Floyd raised and then waved the picture of the moon on a stick, "FLOYD FLOYD FLOYD!"

The Abyss began to laugh.

ZORCH!

The creature struck looked like a blackened shovel-nosed shark head put atop a mangled potato with twig-like arms and legs. The blast burned many parts of it to white ash as it carved into the monster. The scream of terror rebounded off the restored walls of the bilges as the creature released its grip on the environs and fled trailing embers and the stench of burning slime.

The others looked back at Floyd, still in firing stance, the yellow wig and edges of the fuku's skirt smoldering. The coral like Abyssal fairy carefully removed and extinguished the headgear, and stowed both the crystal-tipped cricket bat and the stick with the picture affixed.

Floyd looked at its fellow fairies, lit its plaid lightsaber and marched towards the forces the Abyss had abandoned in its haste. The half-made things could not contemplate surrender, nor mercy, but they could understand an existential threat.

Floyd and the rest of the saber-armed line marched after the fleeing monstrosities. Gun armed fairies watched the flanks and ceiling.

Spoiler

For many years after, when fairies gathered, there was always one who would want to `prove` something to the weird, little, coral-like fairy who wore the wild costume, or who spouted the wild ideas. Wiser head would quickly escort the chunnifairy away, and ask to hear about when he had personally shot the Abyss in the face and sent it away screaming. Some would gain wisdom on the spot, others would first learn The Lesson of Ed Gruberman and wisdom would descend on them like rain.

------------------------------

H41 wasn't as nervous about the Abyssal `Battlecruiser Princess` as others were. She actually had some fellow feeling although not that she'd admit it. She understood some people just had a problem being touched, but didn't want to be isolated.

There was also the chance the girl was in real pain, rather than just disoriented. That Washington had accompanied her gave H41 some reassurances. She was another one who understood being skittish about things others felt no qualms about.

"Hello," H41 said, approaching the girl from well within her field of view. She could see the mismatched guns, the heterochromic eyes and the asymmetry of her superstructure, as if she had the 'Queen Anne's Mansion' for half and a more WW1 style-bridge as the other. The pieces didn't all blend seamlessly.

"I brought some tea and sandwiches," H41 said set them down before withdrawing just out of reach.

"I have some cheese and cupcakes," Washington said and set down her tray.

"Aren't you afraid of me?" the Battlecruiser Princess said. Her two different hairstyles were a little off-putting, ships preferred symmetry and this Abyssal seemed asymmetric from stem to stern, even the layout of the 16", 16.5" and 18" guns changed from turret to turret.

"Somewhat," H41 said, "More afraid for you."

"I'm a monster," the Abyssal said.

"If you believe that only refers to your physical form," H41 said, "We have several experts on site who can help. One specifically dedicated to it."

"Your hairdresser can't fix me," the Abyssal said.

"She can help," Washington said, "But there is another."

"If you believe your soul is monstrous," H41 said, "I've watched with my own eyes something far more monstrous, and they struck without a drop of blood. Fortunate, their victim buried his own blade in their turbines before they struck him down."

The Battlecruiser Princess looked up at the pair, dragged the trays closer and began rather daintily eating the sandwiches.
------------------------------

Several hours of painstaking forensic examinations, questioning, and attempted reconstructions, and we came up with - better music and better attitude allowed us to summon someone being sent our way anyway. Gordon looked at the various reformed Abyssals as their frustration at current events built up. Only the Admiral's promise of an 'interesting diversion', and places to watch it, had kept tempers from fraying.

"Why do we have these sticks?" the Ri-class who'd been divested of her guns as part of her surrender looked at the oddly bent stick.

"So you have a chance against the destroyer and the carrier," Crawford said as he dropped the hard rubber cylinder beside the four cruisers and jogged back towards the bleachers that had been set up for the viewing forces.

The cruisers saw the clearly marked goals and understood the basic rules. What they failed to understand was how two weaker ships would stand a chance against all four of them who'd fought together.

The rollerskates were a possible equalizer, they weren't exactly like moving on water, but that shouldn't have made a major difference.

"So boss, what do we do?" the Tsu-class asked.

"We win," the cruiser said and braced as the destroyer and carrier came in fast.
------------------------------

The Dark Lord of the Sick and the Chief Engineer looked over the badly damaged patients and considered whether scrapping them might just be the more merciful option.

"I like this game," the delirious Ri-class announced as two Ru-class set her on the examination table.

The Chief Engineer didn't want to send engineering teams over just yet, the crews were too shell-shocked from the encounter with Haida and Maggie to risk entry by unknown forces. Instead the Dark Lord of the Sick was using Vasa's sonar and a special pickup to determine damage and proscribe a course of treatment.

"Yo, yo yo yo yoyo yoyo yo," the dark-clad medic said quietly, the Chief Engineer taking notes and making his own comments on the Sith Lord's findings. "Yo yo yoyo yo yo - "

PING!

The Chief Engineer looked up from his notes and to Vasa, who shrugged as much as an Abyssal destroyer could. "Yo," the Chief suggested repeating the scan.

"Yo, yo, yoyo, yo," the Dark Lord said as he adjusted the receiver.

PING!

The two fairies looked at each other. "Yo," the pair said together. They walked over to the newly arrived Tsu-class, the Ri-class' partner in crime, and performed a quick test with the Vasa's sonar.

"Yo, yoyo yoyo yo," the Dark Lord said quietly, directing the scans, "Yo, yo - "

PING!

The two senior officer fairies looked at each other, and came to the same conclusion. "Yoyoyo," they said together.

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXVIII - Princess' Fleet

The meeting between Admiral Crawford, and his two superiors was tense. The personages on the screen were not in the best of moods, and the arrival of 'Magma Abyss' and the intelligence he'd delivered had no one happy.

"We're pieces on a game board," Beale asked, she already wore her fourth star, the additional stars would be coming to the other two in the next few weeks.

"And evidently, the Abyss is cheating. Considering both Gordon and Floyd shot it, and no one else has even so much as seen it, I think the Abyss is getting squirrelly," Richardson added.

"I think I can almost sympathize," Beale said, "Assuming you are taking from fictional characters, I think we can all agree his 'old boss' is neither Aquaman nor the Submariner."

"I'd suggest it's a R'lyeh big problem, but you'd probably have Gibbs fire me, into a hard, flat surface," Crawford said, "The real question is if the Abyss is getting squirrelly, what else can it throw at us. That PT Imp swarm is likely their next uprated tactic."

The door bursting open and the Dark Lord of the Sick, the Chief Engineer, the Joker, Shark Dentures and the Little Princess entering all with grim expressions did nothing to help.

"This is a private meeting," Beale said.

"Yo," the Dark Lord said as it held up a thumb drive, "Yoyo yo yoyo yo."

The Chief Engineer plugged the drive into the computer, activated his own email client and sent it to the three admirals. The Little Princess held up a hard copy while Shark Dentures closed the door behind them, blocking off Northampton.

"These two, as Gotengo before, were not defectors but prisoners, so they were required to consume their gun and torpedo armament as part of their demilitarizing," the oddly wise and haggard little girl said, "Except the taste was awful, so they exchanged. The Ri-class eating the Tsu-class' and vice versa. It seems it had an interesting side effect."

Crawford leaned close to peer at the sheet as the other admirals booted their secure email clients to download the pictures. "No," he said, and got up to verify Northampton wasn't eavesdropping, "How is that possible?"

"Best guess, huge vulnerability, mutual trust and an exchange of necessary materials and vital forces. The material was intended to allow them to make internal repairs," the Little Princess said, "That's a guess, but it fits."

Richardson groaned as he looked at the diagrams. "Both of them?"

"Yep, and they aren't the nice ones," the Little Princess said.

"Gentlemen, the sun's above the yardarm somewhere," Beale said as she poured herself a drink, "Send them both to Delaware. They're going to be freaking out once they realize why their systems' efficiencies are all dropping."

Crawford wasn't sure he wanted to know how Beale knew that. "If the Abyss learns of this?"

"We'll be getting a lot more converts," Beale said, "A culling like King Herod's won't help when the targets can run away at 28 knots or better."

"It's unlikely," the Little Princess said, "Only a few Princesses and their highest level Demons could fulfill the first two requirements, the Abyss and the Red Princess saw to that. The real question is what happens when the more reasonable Princesses with reliable cadre realize what they can do?"

"Don't get any ideas," Crawford warned.

The Little Princess giggled. "I don't need that method. I built 108 with my own hands."

"Did we miss two?" Richardson said.

"Joshamee and Furious," Shark Dentures said, "We scraped together crews for them."

"Of course," Crawford said, sipped his tea and considered the world outside his window. "One-oh-eight. Buddhist and Hinduism?" he asked the girl.

"I was hoping to make an offering to allow our people to survive," she said, "One ship per prayer bead. It didn't work out as expected."
------------------------------

The angled-deck carrier took a few uncertain steps, but quickly stabilized. "Hello I'm Shinano, I'm pleased to be here."

Crawford nodded and watched as the others of the treasure trove celebrated alongside their new sister. Dozens had been reactivated over the last few days. The initial concern about them turning seemed to be a distant memory. With crews brought from the extra shore parties the Okinawa disaster had generated, none of them showed the slightest hint of Abyssaldom. The current problem was feeding them, and then getting them ready to transfer to the mainland.

While a flight would be quickest, having them travel by sea would get them training and eliminate the very real possibility of them panicking aboard the plane. Gordon, Haida, Maggie, Joshamee and Furious would be the escort and command cadre.

He felt guilty about leaving the other elephant in the room alone to deal with the newcomers. But that is what we pay them for, Crawford thought.
------------------------------

The Little Princess watched the fairies making repairs on the comatose Squalus' numerous engineering deficiencies. The horrified Battlecruiser Princess sat in the corner as she winced at the surgery and noise from the experts. The Ta-class stood beside her, resting a hand on the Princess' shoulder. The Ta-Class had shown more spirit, taking the name 'Indeterminate' and was proving to be a defector rather than a prisoner. She, H41 and Washington had started rehabilitating the Battlecruiser Princess.

"So do you prefer Magma Abyss, or Godzilla?" the little Abyssal asked and smirked at her mother and Indianapolis holding hands and looking into each other's eyes rather than playing guard. Although who was being guarded from whom was unclear in everyone's mind. She suspected Crawford had intended that.

"Frankly, Magma Abyss is more accurate," the huge man said, and looked down at The Chief Engineer hauling out a piece of equipment and cursing a blue streak including its designers, approvers and everyone who allowed it to carry through the construction process. The Chief seemed genuinely concerned about 'Magma Abyss' and barely could make eye contact with the huge man. Godzilla's expression was equally displeased as he lifted the part free and set it beside Kushi, who was supervising the repair and replacement with Albacore helping. Their crews began machining the equipment.

The Battlecruiser Princess fainted, which alarmed nobody, Indeterminate just propped her up and shook her head.

"Don't worry, we'll have her up and running in a few hours," the small Abyssal said, the fierce determination on her face at odds with her innocent childlike appearance at most times.

"Have you given any thought to Gotengo's rearmament?" Kushi asked as her crews hooked the induction valve up and tested its operation. Then worked on it with a few files.

"She's deciding if she wants to go back to being a torpedo cruiser, or have a more balanced armament," the Little Princess said, "Then comes the question of what types of torpedoes? Long-Lances, the oxygen enriched that were proposed for Nelson, German acoustic homers, or US late-war units."

"I take it a mixed load is out," Godzilla said, "Some of each?"

"Logistical nightmare," the Little Princess said, "And I can't adjust ordinance, just extant designs. I am going to use the torpedo turret to allow faster reloads."

"What about guns?" Kushi asked as she watched the valve work to her and the fairies' satisfaction.

"The IJN 10cm and the USN 5"/54 cal as secondaries, and the Primaries should be the 6-inch automatics, or the eight-inch automatics," the Little Princess said and accepted the induction valve back from Kushi and handed it down to The Chief Engineer.

"Fast firing, or long-range," Kushi said, "And I haven't thanked you for the upgrade. I guess I was feeling sorry for myself, but with my improved capabilities, I felt like I was doing more. Even making supply runs between Okinawa, Richardson's base, and even back to Nishinoshima to make sure our destroyer pickets had food, fuel and other things."

"You're welcome," she said, "Okay, done, but we'll need a shallow pool to really test it."

"I think that's being arranged," Godzilla said. He glanced over at the other Princess. "Can you help her?"

"I can fix the structure. Others will have to fix what happens inside." The Repair Princess tapped her head.
------------------------------

The party before the 108 set out was a proper party, food, lots of dancing under the cover of teaching the newbies how to move, and a lot of good feelings. Captain Gordon led the massive force towards Yokosuka with Indianapolis, Gotengo, Shark Dentures, Haida and Maggie as escorts and teachers. With the Twin Princesses H"lsingborg and G"teborg going to learn how to be aviation battleships. Everything would be practiced at sea: fleet maneuvers, launching and recovering aircraft, possibly Air-Sea Rescue of some pilots, even a bit of firefighting. The crews were getting their new charges up to scratch and they were getting a shakedown as a fleet, they'd had one as individuals.

Gordon watched the battleships trying a battle turn and doing a poor but better than last time's job of it. For once he was glad he had a thousand miles between Nishinoshima and Yokosuka. At twelve knots he might have them in vaguely acceptable condition by the time they arrived.
------------------------------

The creature who'd invaded his room while he was checking out the base after his latest, long nap smelled like the Admiral, but looked like a destroyer-form. He was glad he'd been coming in and thus fully clothed rather than asleep as he preferred.

"Are you really Godzilla?" she, presumably she, asked.

"Oh, you must be Major Callahan's replacement," he said, "That uniform generally cleans his weapon before we talk." He looked at her. "You don't seem to have any weapons, and I'm not Godzilla. Godzilla is a fictional character."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I'm Angie Crawford, the Admiral's granddaughter."

"My condolences on your loss," Godzilla said and wondered if the girl had been stricken ill.

"How did you know my parents are dead?" she asked.

"Because I've been watching humans since you roamed the Rift Valley in Africa, and if you are in a war-zone with your grandfather, then no other relatives are available," Godzilla said as he hung up his hat. He also noted that both Corey and SS-192 were missing, and Angie lacked a Marine guard of her own.

"So why weren't you at the dance last night, everyone else was," Angie said.

"I only woke up yesterday afternoon and I never heard about it," Godzilla said.

Angie stared at him. "There were posters up all over the base."

"I saw the posters, I just didn't connect them with anything," Godzilla admitted, "I apologize that I missed the celebration you worked so hard on."

"Never mind that now, how could you not connect them with anything? They said 'Dance' in great big, neon letters."

"I didn't see anything that implied dancing," Godzilla said.

Angie stared at him. "You can't read, can you?"

"Of course I can," Godzilla said indignantly, "You're almost frightened of something involving me, but not directly me. Wilcox is going to be eating more aspirin, probably with wine. And my other two roommates fled in fear, possibly of your confrontation with me. Aaaannnnd now you're frustrated."

 

[NK-33]

Anchovy Peaches XXXIX - The War Begins

The mess hall at Yokosuka came to a dead halt as Captain Gordon walked in. He'd brought the Princess' Fleet in successfully, and aside from Ooyodo having a migraine about supplying, berthing and training them, everyone was glad of the reinforcements. Talk about sending a separate force into the Indian Ocean was the main point of discussion of who would be included, any fighting along the way, and so on. The number of 'super' designs among the newcomers also brought some discussion. The two Yamato sisters were ecstatic their little-sister was a undersized Forrestal instead of an oversized, light carrier. Gibbs was already taking a ribbing about the biggest guns afloat while people pointedly stared at her chest.

None of that brought the silence. The three stripes of orange, purple and green paint across Gordon's chest drew much attention, not just from their size and roundness.

"Okay, I understand I'm in your playground and I should have expected this, no harm no foul. But if a human officer had checked that closet before I did, they would have gotten this right across their eyes," Gordon gestured to the paint, "So fine, you got me, well played, but this was just dangerous." Gordon turned and walked out.

Kongo turned to her sisters. "I didn't do that," she said and searched their faces for an indication that they had, while every other eye in the place tracked to their table.

Kirishima excused herself, "I've got to get that bowl of Haribo sugar-free gummy bears out of his office."
------------------------------

After the 'incident', two destroyers had been assigned to show me around. The first stop after changing my uniform was Admiral Goto. The man looked like he wanted to be understanding, he also looked like he desperately needed a drink and I wasn't helping on either front.

He was peering at my division commanders. He'd seen the Chief Engineer defeat the insurrection then `promote` the destroyers to the Twin Princesses, so a better introduction to the 3 cm tall Darth Vader, Agent Smith, The Joker, Nyarlathotep, Cthulhu, and Floyd was a surprising request.

"Are all ship-girls manned by such an eclectic bunch?" Admiral Goto asked, his English flawless.

"Not to my knowledge, but a couple of weeks ago I was an ordinary man looking forward to retiring in a few years," I replied.

The Admiral sighed. "You punched through Indianapolis' armor belt and sent your marine detachment aboard to capture her?"

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"YoRA!" the Dalek announced.

"Yes, I'm sure," Goto said, rubbed his eyes, "You do know boarding went out of fashion almost three hundred years ago?"

"I figured that my marines could either take the ship, or render her combat ineffective and I could send over more troops," I said, "And I believe the Emden and Graf Spee did this sort of thing in WW1 and WW2."

"Not against another warship," Goto said and sighed again, "We aren't ungrateful. The Pentagon was over the moon and is staying there, our psychologists are talking about ways other ship-girls can bring Abyssals back without fighting them, but, what possessed you to think you'd survive the action."

"Accomplishments in ignorance, I didn't know it was impossible," I admitted.

The admiral sighed again. "How's the arm?"

"It itched like fury until I got through the bath, but I can use it again without any trouble. Although the hammering at night was keeping me up at times," I said, "If I may ask, how do you deal with it?"

" 'It'?" the Admiral asked.

I pointed at the door and put my finger to my lips. The admiral smiled and nodded for me to continue, "Let's just say Gotengo isn't as - enthusiastic as your paramour. If I were a guy again, I might explain that she isn't helping her case."

"Maybe that's her intention," the Admiral said, "All her declarations are a smokescreen that she despises me. Bait and switch."

The loud crash from outside the office heralded the arrival of Nagato, stepping over the fallen Kongo. "Admiral, our updated analysis of the Abyssal activity," she said as she set the documents on the desk, and gave me a grin that vanished as swiftly as it had begun.

The Admiral looked at the assorted division heads, then shook his head. "I need to go over this. You know the areas your people are restricted from. I'll need regular updates. If the Abyss is losing its grip, we'll have to move everybody up to fight them."

"Yes, sir, thank you," I said as the crew reboarded, knowing that I was dismissed.

Kongo jumped to her feet and rushed to the Admiral's side as Nagato and I left.

"I've met Indianapolis," Nagato said, "She seems a level-headed girl. Still nervous about going out, and petrified of submarines. How did she and Shark Dentures?"

"Shark Dentures did not pursue a Kongoesque pattern, but slow seduction. Are you looking for targeting advice?" I asked, "I have to wonder if you are not really ships, but manifestations of who we assume you ships are."

"That would be an interesting study case," Nagato said and looked back at the office wistfully, "I know when a target is beyond my range, but I can still hope. He's a good man."

"Why didn't you use an instant repair bucket that night?" I asked.

"Because I wasn't going out on any combat patrols, and like you, I don't mind some itching while I'm reviewing endless documentation, it helps keep me awake," Nagato said, "And if your intelligence reports are correct, we will be needing your entire force soon enough."

I headed toward the library for more study, trying to pack everything that Basic Training takes weeks to scratch the surface of, into a few days. Then all the protocols that my crew and the other ship-girls know as a matter of course. More an effort in integration and habit-forming than making from scratch.
------------------------------

The pool had been set up in one of a dozen unused warehouses, then they had to await Corey's return from shadowing, undetected, the 108 and escorts. If the base had been bustling, the warehouses would have been filled with 'bullets, beans and black oil' for the fighters and 'red tape, ink and aspirin' for the desk jockeys. But each were an empty shell as the other, much smaller underground bunkers were sufficient.

"More bait," Godzilla said as he led SS-192 and Corey to the pool, a stand alone, 4-foot deep structure normally used to contain waste spills. It was barely big enough for the subs to swim in circles in, but that's all it had to be.

"Are you sure your fairies and the Princess fixed that induction valve?" SS-192 asked.

Corey smiled. "Of course, and we're going to prove it," the other sub-girl said.

Godzilla let them banter. He was deciding how much of the carrot and how much of the stick he'd have to use. The other sub-girls had been less standoffish than SS-192 had reported. Meaning they'd mellowed or SS-192 had overreacted. Private discussions later with only Wilcox as a guard pointed strongly towards the latter. Self-pity was a particular irritation with him. He knew about people who talked big then folded when needed, he also knew people who wouldn't stay down, and he knew people who pulled themselves down for a host of reasons. The former he could deal with, while the last infuriated him.

Hating the sins of others that you despise in yourself, he thought, The only one who knew you'd be worthy was the Holy Moth. Even you pulled yourself down.

"Don't worry, I can pull you out," Godzilla said, "Or we can drain the pool."

That seemed to fluster SS-192 more. Godzilla glanced at Wilcox who shrugged. The Marine had been assigned as a guard, and she'd been throwing signals that Godzilla had chosen to ignore. Mainly because she might not realize or mean them, or they were orders from elsewhere.

Or as unconscious competition with Angie or Corey, Godzilla thought, Better not to presume, and offend by ostensible ignorance of custom than by accepting an offer than hadn't been willfully tendered.

Wilcox had been teaching him to read, to assist Angie, and like the sub-girls had been getting very close to him physically, especially after the fleet had left for Japan. With the sub-girls it was that they tended to `rest` in tight-packed groups. Humans generally slept or rested alone or in looser formations. Sleeping while resting on someone was a sign of great intimacy. At least that humans and kaiju shared. The moth had occasionally landed atop him and used her wings to contain his heat to warm herself. But they'd been allies for over two galactic years, he'd endure her teasing. But these new ones, he'd ignore it, and act like neither human nor sub-girls understood what they were doing. Or that something had so shaken the sub she needed contact with `her flotilla` to deal with it.

He stripped to his shorts and stepped into the pool, gesturing for SS-192 to do likewise. Then he had to pick her up and lift her over the barrier. She tepidly laid in the water like a log, before submerging, and immediately porpoising to the surface and leapt clear out of the pool.

While he felt his temper fraying, he stood silent and impassive.

"Corey, Godzilla get your hydrophones down there and listen," she chattered like an angry squirrel.

He stuck his head underwater as Corey leaned over the edge and did the same. He heard the buzz, but couldn't place it.

Corey yanked her head out of the pool, collapsing the side as she shifted. As water poured out across the floor, she yelled. "PT Imps, a lot of them!" And she started running for the door they had entered through.

"Command, they picked up PT Imps, many, full alert," Wilcox called into the radio she carried as she circled away from the wash of water. The squawked response was unintelligible.

"PT imps simulate little boat's engines?" Godzilla asked as he jogged out of the collapsing pool to follow her out of the building.

"Yes," Wilcox said as they headed towards the harbor.

"Okay, that I can confirm, that's what I heard too," he said and watched as Corey and SS-192 pulled far ahead of them, "Okay, what do we do, one has no weapons, the other no crew? I'm all for 'the size of the fight in the dog', but said dog has to have teeth and know how to bite."

For the first time, Wilcox looked worried.
------------------------------

Joshamee looked over at one of her fellow battleships in the moonlight streaming in the window, and Captain Gordon a short distance away. "I could get used to this," the battleship said of the covering of destroyers like a thick layer of spaced armor on all the battleships. She smiled, relaxed and returned to sleep.
------------------------------

Goto looked up as Captain Gordon arrived. He'd expected a report on the 108, but stopped as he stared at the battleship's electric green hair and skin.

"Must be something in the water, sir," Gordon said tersely and handed over the report. The fact that Ooyodo, Mutsu and Nagato were leaning past the door frame to stare at the stoic battleship made things worse.

Goto scanned the report and nodded to Nagato and Mutsu, one was going to have a bomb disposal team go over every millimeter of the guest quarters, the other would have a serious talk with the base's resident pranksters.