You'll have to wait until next week, but there are way this is being managed, and even utilized.
Anchovy Peaches [Kancolle][Crackfic]
- Thread starter NK-33
- Start date
- Novella Alt. History
Anchovy Peaches XVIII - The Monster Sees the Monster
Anchovy Peaches XVIII - The Monster Sees the Monster
Admiral Beale glanced around, no doubt to verify they weren't being followed. "This conversation is private and classified, after it is over, you will discuss it with no one, not even me, under any circumstances," the Admiral said, "Understood?"
"The stipulation, but not the reason," Captain Gordon admitted, "I've done proprietary work before."
"First, you've probably already heard some of it, but it isn't to be discussed. You're one of the few who might understand and by the end I hope you'll understand the stipulation. As you've no doubt heard, I'm a monster, a stone bitch. I'll cop to that. The weird thing is that it helps the war effort. There are too many people who hate the Navy and the war, but a Feminazi ballbuster they can get behind. It's what's necessary, because the big deal is we are losing this war, badly."
"How is that?" Gordon asked.
"Simple, wars are won on logistics, ginning out armies, navies, air forces and the troops to man them. Skill and tactics let those forces be used effectively, but if you have three and they have 300, they only have to get it right three times to win, and if they lose 290 to do it, they still win." The Admiral sighed and looked out across the base. "The Japanese have summoned nearly every hull they put in the water in and for World War 2. The Italians are in the same boat. The Germans haven't gotten all their destroyers, but they do have Graf Zeppelin and Seydlitz, a decent trade for a few destroyers. The Brits have about 2/3ds of their World War 2 fleet. They're missing Anson and Howe, a few of their prewar carriers and a slew of their prewar subs and destroyers. The French are in the same situation, but they had fewer ships to start with. The big wild card is the US. We've only gotten about half the Essexes, we're missing Lexington, both of them, Wasp and Ranger, all of them, the North Carolina class, and about half the South Dakotas. We're missing most of the Fletcher swarm and the Clemson swarm, but we've got most of the cruisers and about half the subs."
She looked at Gordon. "The simple fact is we'll soon run out of ships to summon, and we haven't solved the problem of extending the summoning to post war or even World War 1 hulls. If, when, the Abyss realizes that everything below a demon is just a template and therefore expendable, they will be able to send waves of expendables against us, and even if we kill ten for every one we lose, if they have thirty, we lose. We lose everything, because practically every lost ship-girl does a spin through being an Abyssal. If they'd hit that repair ship, they would have gotten 17 brand-spanking-new Princesses. Even our destroyers who cross over become high rankers in their forces."
"I haven't heard any of this before," Gordon said.
"It isn't widely discussed, because the Abyss has been stupid. Pain and suffering over victory," Admiral Beale said, "While we cannot depend on them staying stupid, we can't afford to give them even an inkling they could win, and win easily."
"Okay, that makes sense," Gordon said, "But I'm just a well-known, prewar design, not a steel ship."
"And, more importantly, you may have given us the break we need in recruiting the Abyss' rank-and-file to our side, or just to neutrality. Like I said, I am a monster, but if the day after we win this war I drop dead and 95% of today's human race votes to make it Annual Piss on Beale's Grave Day, I will consider that a victory, because we won and we survived," Beale said.
"Harsh," Gordon agreed, "So if we can get their soldiers to quit fighting, that's the only way to win. Unless we can kill the Abyss that spawns them."
"If you can tell us where to put the nukes, they'll fly in about 10 minutes after I make the call," Beale said, "So we need to know how you did it. We need to be able to press it. We have had Demons and Princesses revert to their ship-girl forms. We have at least a half-dozen higher-level rank and file slip into the continental United States and go native, but that's battleships and carriers. We weren't even sure the cruisers and below were sentient or capable of independent thought, now we know, they are terrified of being caught not supporting the cause. The irony is what you did to her horrified the ship-girls with you, it was a maypole dance compared to some of the things that have been done to her by others. What broke her was the gentleness after. You forced her to submit and the instant she did, it was all comparative flowers and puppies, instead of more beatings until she knew her place was below each member of your fleet."
Gordon shook his head. "I keep underestimating the evil of the system because I've only dealt with the victims."
"Hence why we're going to portray this as rescuing and deprograming," Beale said, "Believe me, I've seen things that I wish weren't part of the world. Okay, onto a more important subject for you, and just as secret. All it takes for a ship-girl to become pregnant is an adult human, any gender, and the mutual desire for offspring."
"What?" Gordon whispered, "So Northampton and Crawford?"
"A complete hysterectomy is not enough to prevent it," Beale said and stared at him.
The wheels turned and many things fell into place. "I have a question."
"I can guess what it is," Beale said, smiling for once.
"No offense, but I doubt it. Who said and what was actually said about love dolls and ship-girls?" Gordon said.
Beale stared at him. "Full marks, you got me. Delaware said it, not about Crawford and Northampton, but about other less savory types. She said 'We should shame those who see their ship-girls as little more than love dolls'. It's also the reason you will not discuss it with Crawford or anyone else. Goto, Crawford, Richardson, Palmer in the UK, VonGuntz in Germany, hell even Kutnezov in Russia treat their paramours as people, cherished and loved, but with evil Admiral Beale forcing the nonfraternization policy, they have their desire quashed without any further action or animosity to their partner. After the war, they can each have a marching band for all anyone would care and they know it. Problems will be that some like Admiral Quincy of Jamaica Station has five girls on a string and none of them know which one he'll pick, likely none of them. There's going to be a lot of heartbroken girls once those bastards have to put up or shut up. We can't afford that in a war, or the effect it'll have on couples who're just shy."
"If that works, why not turn some of them loose to bump up the numbers?" Gordon asked, "Sorry for sounding heartless but -" He shrugged.
"Welcome to the dark side," the Admiral said, "But a two-month pregnancy is followed by we estimate fifteen years of growth and maturing before my little sub can join the forces. We can't depend on the Abyss staying stupid for twenty years."
"I have to thank you, for showing battleships and subs can have a closer relationship than distant colleagues," Beale said, "It's something we're having a great deal of trouble trying to overcome, and even with the Germans where you'd think that wouldn't be a problem, it's still a problem."
"You're welcome. Anyone able to help seems worthy of respect, no matter how much or how little they help, if it's the best they can do, that's all you can expect," Captain Gordon said, "Besides, the line between ship and girl needs to be more blurred in a lot of ship-girls' minds."
"So, we collect the rank and file, we try and offer peace to the reasonable, and then what?" Gordon asked.
"We share the planet with them, then the starsystem," Beale said, "They already control 40% of the Earth's surface. That trip you took, Haida lost track of that sub at 800 meters, and she was still diving. Can you imagine the advantages to having a sentient partner species that could go to the depths of the Challenger Deep then to the surface without trouble, and might be able to transport humans down there? Like I said, if we win, I'm okay with saving all the Abyssals. If we win, I'm okay with killing every Abyssal, and if we save some and kill others, I'm okay with that too."
"And to that end, Crawford is out here because he's a rotten Naval Officer, but he'd be a damn fine Marine," Beale said, "So I took a page from a 70's TV show and made him the commander of a bunch of misfits and screw-ups." She gave a predatory smile. "And since evil Admiral Beale hates him, an excellent officer is one of 'us' and not one of 'them'."
"How much of this is you, and how much of this is an act?" Captain Gordon asked.
"It's all me, I just channel it," Beale admitted.
"All right, I think I get why the secret, but why the conversation and why away from Delaware. If Kongo and Northampton are any indication, she'd die before she let anything hurt you, even with a harsh word."
"Because a monster needs a leash. For the war, I need to be fairly free, but I cannot see anything but pragmatism. Right now, Admiral Colbert is the sword of Damocles over my head. He knows me, and knows when to yank the chain. But he's ill and won't be with us much longer, and the chance to vault a Feminazi ballbuster into the old-boys club of the Joint Chiefs is too much of a temptation, and who else could do it? Richardson's too junior, Mason is a McClellan clone and desperately needed exactly where he excels like Little Mac, Gregory hasn't served a day under fire and Mugbwe thinks the Navy can win this without the other services. The other ship-girls can't be the leash, they believe anyone with a secretary ship is always doing the right thing. I need a ruthless, determined son of a bitch with enough firepower and armor to blast through the entire battle line to keep that sword over my head so I stay human."
"I'll at least talk to you first," Gordon said.
"Deal," Beale said and stuck her hand out, "And I'll keep your secret."
"Which is?" Gordon asked as he shook her hand.
"I'll keep it even from you," Beale said, and her smile never made it to her eyes.
------------------------------
The class was essentially kenjitsu with wooden blades. Smiths, Jokers and a handful of others practiced under the expert attention of the medical team.
The Chief Medical Officer broke off from the finer points of swordsmanship to see what Floyd was lugging towards the edge of the mats that marked the classroom.
"Floyd," the strange crewmember began with an apology for `borrowing` one of the other medic's blades to study.
The Medical Officer was about to pronounce sentence when Floyd produced a familiar cylinder and ignited it. The red blade sprang out and the two smaller blades making a handguard also appeared. Floyd deactivated the weapon and handed it to the Chief Medical Officer as Floyd removed a basket with a dozen of the cylinders.
The Medical Officer activated both his blade and the new blade Floyd had crafted. He checked the balance, resistance, carefully brought the blades together to see if there was any significant difference in performance, and could find none. When he deactivated both blades and his attention returned to Floyd, the crewmember had set several additional baskets on the floor, each with a colored label: Red, Green, Blue, Yellow, Orange, Purple and White.
"Floyd," it explained that this was only the first run. There would be more for future boarding actions.
"Floyd," and that violet and black weapons hadn't worked out after one testing.
The chief medic noted the cylinder on Floyd's belt. "Yo," he said indicating the weapon.
"Floyd," the fairy said proudly of the one-of-a-kind weapon. He handed it to the Dark Lord of the Sick.
The medic looked at the weapon and could find no significant difference between this one and the others. He activated the blade and only the strictest discipline kept him from facepalming with a lit lightsaber in his hand.
Of course Floyd would have a plaid lightsaber.
[MacLeod Tartan]
Admiral Beale glanced around, no doubt to verify they weren't being followed. "This conversation is private and classified, after it is over, you will discuss it with no one, not even me, under any circumstances," the Admiral said, "Understood?"
"The stipulation, but not the reason," Captain Gordon admitted, "I've done proprietary work before."
"First, you've probably already heard some of it, but it isn't to be discussed. You're one of the few who might understand and by the end I hope you'll understand the stipulation. As you've no doubt heard, I'm a monster, a stone bitch. I'll cop to that. The weird thing is that it helps the war effort. There are too many people who hate the Navy and the war, but a Feminazi ballbuster they can get behind. It's what's necessary, because the big deal is we are losing this war, badly."
"How is that?" Gordon asked.
"Simple, wars are won on logistics, ginning out armies, navies, air forces and the troops to man them. Skill and tactics let those forces be used effectively, but if you have three and they have 300, they only have to get it right three times to win, and if they lose 290 to do it, they still win." The Admiral sighed and looked out across the base. "The Japanese have summoned nearly every hull they put in the water in and for World War 2. The Italians are in the same boat. The Germans haven't gotten all their destroyers, but they do have Graf Zeppelin and Seydlitz, a decent trade for a few destroyers. The Brits have about 2/3ds of their World War 2 fleet. They're missing Anson and Howe, a few of their prewar carriers and a slew of their prewar subs and destroyers. The French are in the same situation, but they had fewer ships to start with. The big wild card is the US. We've only gotten about half the Essexes, we're missing Lexington, both of them, Wasp and Ranger, all of them, the North Carolina class, and about half the South Dakotas. We're missing most of the Fletcher swarm and the Clemson swarm, but we've got most of the cruisers and about half the subs."
She looked at Gordon. "The simple fact is we'll soon run out of ships to summon, and we haven't solved the problem of extending the summoning to post war or even World War 1 hulls. If, when, the Abyss realizes that everything below a demon is just a template and therefore expendable, they will be able to send waves of expendables against us, and even if we kill ten for every one we lose, if they have thirty, we lose. We lose everything, because practically every lost ship-girl does a spin through being an Abyssal. If they'd hit that repair ship, they would have gotten 17 brand-spanking-new Princesses. Even our destroyers who cross over become high rankers in their forces."
"I haven't heard any of this before," Gordon said.
"It isn't widely discussed, because the Abyss has been stupid. Pain and suffering over victory," Admiral Beale said, "While we cannot depend on them staying stupid, we can't afford to give them even an inkling they could win, and win easily."
"Okay, that makes sense," Gordon said, "But I'm just a well-known, prewar design, not a steel ship."
"And, more importantly, you may have given us the break we need in recruiting the Abyss' rank-and-file to our side, or just to neutrality. Like I said, I am a monster, but if the day after we win this war I drop dead and 95% of today's human race votes to make it Annual Piss on Beale's Grave Day, I will consider that a victory, because we won and we survived," Beale said.
"Harsh," Gordon agreed, "So if we can get their soldiers to quit fighting, that's the only way to win. Unless we can kill the Abyss that spawns them."
"If you can tell us where to put the nukes, they'll fly in about 10 minutes after I make the call," Beale said, "So we need to know how you did it. We need to be able to press it. We have had Demons and Princesses revert to their ship-girl forms. We have at least a half-dozen higher-level rank and file slip into the continental United States and go native, but that's battleships and carriers. We weren't even sure the cruisers and below were sentient or capable of independent thought, now we know, they are terrified of being caught not supporting the cause. The irony is what you did to her horrified the ship-girls with you, it was a maypole dance compared to some of the things that have been done to her by others. What broke her was the gentleness after. You forced her to submit and the instant she did, it was all comparative flowers and puppies, instead of more beatings until she knew her place was below each member of your fleet."
Gordon shook his head. "I keep underestimating the evil of the system because I've only dealt with the victims."
"Hence why we're going to portray this as rescuing and deprograming," Beale said, "Believe me, I've seen things that I wish weren't part of the world. Okay, onto a more important subject for you, and just as secret. All it takes for a ship-girl to become pregnant is an adult human, any gender, and the mutual desire for offspring."
"What?" Gordon whispered, "So Northampton and Crawford?"
"A complete hysterectomy is not enough to prevent it," Beale said and stared at him.
The wheels turned and many things fell into place. "I have a question."
"I can guess what it is," Beale said, smiling for once.
"No offense, but I doubt it. Who said and what was actually said about love dolls and ship-girls?" Gordon said.
Beale stared at him. "Full marks, you got me. Delaware said it, not about Crawford and Northampton, but about other less savory types. She said 'We should shame those who see their ship-girls as little more than love dolls'. It's also the reason you will not discuss it with Crawford or anyone else. Goto, Crawford, Richardson, Palmer in the UK, VonGuntz in Germany, hell even Kutnezov in Russia treat their paramours as people, cherished and loved, but with evil Admiral Beale forcing the nonfraternization policy, they have their desire quashed without any further action or animosity to their partner. After the war, they can each have a marching band for all anyone would care and they know it. Problems will be that some like Admiral Quincy of Jamaica Station has five girls on a string and none of them know which one he'll pick, likely none of them. There's going to be a lot of heartbroken girls once those bastards have to put up or shut up. We can't afford that in a war, or the effect it'll have on couples who're just shy."
"If that works, why not turn some of them loose to bump up the numbers?" Gordon asked, "Sorry for sounding heartless but -" He shrugged.
"Welcome to the dark side," the Admiral said, "But a two-month pregnancy is followed by we estimate fifteen years of growth and maturing before my little sub can join the forces. We can't depend on the Abyss staying stupid for twenty years."
"I have to thank you, for showing battleships and subs can have a closer relationship than distant colleagues," Beale said, "It's something we're having a great deal of trouble trying to overcome, and even with the Germans where you'd think that wouldn't be a problem, it's still a problem."
"You're welcome. Anyone able to help seems worthy of respect, no matter how much or how little they help, if it's the best they can do, that's all you can expect," Captain Gordon said, "Besides, the line between ship and girl needs to be more blurred in a lot of ship-girls' minds."
"So, we collect the rank and file, we try and offer peace to the reasonable, and then what?" Gordon asked.
"We share the planet with them, then the starsystem," Beale said, "They already control 40% of the Earth's surface. That trip you took, Haida lost track of that sub at 800 meters, and she was still diving. Can you imagine the advantages to having a sentient partner species that could go to the depths of the Challenger Deep then to the surface without trouble, and might be able to transport humans down there? Like I said, if we win, I'm okay with saving all the Abyssals. If we win, I'm okay with killing every Abyssal, and if we save some and kill others, I'm okay with that too."
"And to that end, Crawford is out here because he's a rotten Naval Officer, but he'd be a damn fine Marine," Beale said, "So I took a page from a 70's TV show and made him the commander of a bunch of misfits and screw-ups." She gave a predatory smile. "And since evil Admiral Beale hates him, an excellent officer is one of 'us' and not one of 'them'."
"How much of this is you, and how much of this is an act?" Captain Gordon asked.
"It's all me, I just channel it," Beale admitted.
"All right, I think I get why the secret, but why the conversation and why away from Delaware. If Kongo and Northampton are any indication, she'd die before she let anything hurt you, even with a harsh word."
"Because a monster needs a leash. For the war, I need to be fairly free, but I cannot see anything but pragmatism. Right now, Admiral Colbert is the sword of Damocles over my head. He knows me, and knows when to yank the chain. But he's ill and won't be with us much longer, and the chance to vault a Feminazi ballbuster into the old-boys club of the Joint Chiefs is too much of a temptation, and who else could do it? Richardson's too junior, Mason is a McClellan clone and desperately needed exactly where he excels like Little Mac, Gregory hasn't served a day under fire and Mugbwe thinks the Navy can win this without the other services. The other ship-girls can't be the leash, they believe anyone with a secretary ship is always doing the right thing. I need a ruthless, determined son of a bitch with enough firepower and armor to blast through the entire battle line to keep that sword over my head so I stay human."
"I'll at least talk to you first," Gordon said.
"Deal," Beale said and stuck her hand out, "And I'll keep your secret."
"Which is?" Gordon asked as he shook her hand.
"I'll keep it even from you," Beale said, and her smile never made it to her eyes.
------------------------------
The class was essentially kenjitsu with wooden blades. Smiths, Jokers and a handful of others practiced under the expert attention of the medical team.
The Chief Medical Officer broke off from the finer points of swordsmanship to see what Floyd was lugging towards the edge of the mats that marked the classroom.
"Floyd," the strange crewmember began with an apology for `borrowing` one of the other medic's blades to study.
The Medical Officer was about to pronounce sentence when Floyd produced a familiar cylinder and ignited it. The red blade sprang out and the two smaller blades making a handguard also appeared. Floyd deactivated the weapon and handed it to the Chief Medical Officer as Floyd removed a basket with a dozen of the cylinders.
The Medical Officer activated both his blade and the new blade Floyd had crafted. He checked the balance, resistance, carefully brought the blades together to see if there was any significant difference in performance, and could find none. When he deactivated both blades and his attention returned to Floyd, the crewmember had set several additional baskets on the floor, each with a colored label: Red, Green, Blue, Yellow, Orange, Purple and White.
"Floyd," it explained that this was only the first run. There would be more for future boarding actions.
"Floyd," and that violet and black weapons hadn't worked out after one testing.
The chief medic noted the cylinder on Floyd's belt. "Yo," he said indicating the weapon.
"Floyd," the fairy said proudly of the one-of-a-kind weapon. He handed it to the Dark Lord of the Sick.
The medic looked at the weapon and could find no significant difference between this one and the others. He activated the blade and only the strictest discipline kept him from facepalming with a lit lightsaber in his hand.
Of course Floyd would have a plaid lightsaber.
[MacLeod Tartan]
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Well...Beale shot her shot, but too much of that still smells to want to trust her take on it very much.
Anchovy Peaches XIX - Browsing the Bargain Basement
Anchovy Peaches XIX - Browsing the Bargain Basement
The summoning attempt ended with no results. The crew who had been through this multiple times looked frustrated, but resigned.
Admirals Crawford and Beale glanced at each other, then approached Captain Gordon.
"Well," Crawford asked, "That was pretty typical, as well as the success rate."
"You don't seem to approve," Admiral Beale said.
"It's not a question of approve, I don't understand," Captain Gordon said.
"Spit it out, sailor," Beale said only half-jokingly.
"Okay, I assume the ritual was researched. With that in mind, you're trying to summon people who grew up on Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, and if they were really avant garde, jazz. Who in their right mind would think they'd respond well to rock and especially heavy metal?" Captain Gordon asked, "Some might have shown up because they thought someone was being attacked, but it is hardly an enticement. Where's the John Phillips Sousa for Christsake?"
The two admirals stared at each other for a moment, then facepalmed.
------------------------------
Maggie was full-astern all her 40000 horsepower availing her naught as she was slowly dragged forward. They'd wanted to rekindle Gotengo's spirits, but tearing Haida limb from limb was definitely not the way they hoped it would play out. Captain Gordon had his hands on the former Abyssal's hips and was holding her over his head. Between the cruiser's long arms and her flexibility, it would only be a matter of time before she and Haida came to grips.
"Come down here and fight you crazy spider monkey!" Haida shouted and began jumping, letting Maggie pull her back, but coming closer to Gotengo.
"I'll eat you with syrup!" Gotengo said, "Corn syrup!"
"SILENCE!"
Maggie discovered Haida could teleport, because nothing could have hid behind her that fast any other way. Gotengo was perched on her hands and feet atop Captain Gordon's upraised hands.
"Now, Haida," Captain Gordon said, "I expect an apology from you to Gotengo, but if you'd prefer punishment, you will be denied cuddlepile privileges for one month, and every other destroyer on base will lose them for two weeks, Flagship don'tcha know."
"Two weeks," Haida's tremulous voice betrayed her terror, "Who's going to tell them?"
"I'll announce the who and why at lunch," Captain Gordon said.
"I apologize for my intemperate remarks about you and your character and hope you can attribute my remarks to an excess of enthusiasm on the subject," Haida said and smiled weakly.
The battleship had set the cruiser down on the water. All eyes turned to her. "I don't take any of it back and will accept the punishment," Gotengo said, "I will apologize to Maggie for dragging her into this. For that, I am sorry. And I will accept instead of eating Haida, watching her scarf down a heaping helping of crow."
"It's two weeks," Captain Gordon replied.
"There's a major operation laid on, and they'd hardly let me sail with you, so I'll be out either way," Gotengo said.
"You still need to learn to hold your temper," Maggie said.
"Fine, let Haida expound her wisdom, and I'll hold my tongue, deal?" Gotengo said, glaring at the destroyer.
"Deal," Maggie said, "Why wouldn't Gotengo's torpedo tactics work, and what would you propose differently?"
"The Types 9's on battleships are short-ranged, especially at high speed, which isn't particularly fast. I could outrun them. Also, the warhead is less than a hundred kilos of TNT, so the only ships small enough to be seriously effected are too fast to be caught, and anything big and clumsy enough to be caught would shrug them off," Haida said, and watched the former Abyssal building up to an explosion, "So forget firing them at a target, but fire them at targets already engaged to force them to turn into more effective torpedoes. The threat of torpedoes is more effective than the torpedoes themselves." Haida looked smug and stuck out her tongue at the cruiser.
Gotengo had mastered the near dancing fury she'd been in as Haida had been speaking. The battleship turned to her.
"Do you have a polite rebuttal?" Captain Gordon asked.
Gotengo looked behind her and down. "Rebuttal, you'd stop me," she said, "But Haida has ignored her own eyes."
"How's that?" Haida asked.
"Captain Gordon has Mark 12's," Gotengo said and grinned at Haida.
------------------------------
A number of soldiers were wheeling huge garbage cans out of the shred building. "Hail noble soldiers, might this worthless one present a query unto thee?"
That isn't exactly what I said, but if I had to quickly learn Japanese, which has three formal forms of politeness and about four more informal ones, I was going to learn the form that was most polite first. So what I actually said was 'Soldier, may I ask you a question' but the implication was that above.
"Yes, Battleship-san," the leader said but kept wheeling.
"Where do these barrels go once they're in the truck?" I asked.
"Incinerator building," the soldier said.
"Thank you." And I made a beeline to the incinerator building. There I asked for the chief engineer, to the laughter of the guards. I admit I probably sounded like I was asking to meet with a member of the Imperial Court.
"Yo," the man said, in passable English, "Whatcha want?"
I hid a smirk at a clearly native Japanese speaking with Chicago phrasing, and a Scots accent.
"Does this building connect with the heating system, generate steam for the base, or do you just burn the shredded paper you bring in?" I asked.
The man scratched his chin. "Naw, wejas lognburn."
"Thank you, thank you very much." I did bow. For once I was thinking less as girl, and more as ship and I had a wonderful idea. I just needed the Admiral's permission.
------------------------------
The storm had mostly passed, and picket duty out in the darkness was as boring to Abyssals as it was to human sailors. They were supposed to be spaced farther apart, but too far and they'd have to use the radios to talk, and that could be monitored from the base.
"They found a crate of books," one of the cruisers said, "Really frightening stuff."
"Human propaganda," another light cruiser said, "To scare us, after all the ship-girl at the end enjoys what happens to her, yet it killed all the Abyssals, how does that work?"
"Like those papers the destroyers were punished for having, how were those propaganda? No humans could land here, not with our pickets," said the cruiser guard who'd essentially abandoned her post to get close enough to talk with the others. Every Abyssal knew the night fighters would give early warning.
"Weird stuff happening since `she` showed up," the first cruiser said, "You think she's really the chosen of the Abyss?"
"I'm more worried about the other things that have stirred up," the third cruiser said, "I saw humans walking around the town the other night."
"We killed them all and burned their bodies the first day we got here," the second cruiser said.
"Maybe we didn't burn them hot enough," the third said.
"We," the first began, then fell silent as they heard a voice, one they didn't recognize, nor could they localize. Instead, they listened.
"Douglas Gordon was the Captain of a Tillman and her crew
And he sailed and fought Capt. Gordon in the War of '42
Now Capt. Gordon was the tightest ship 'tween here and Charlemagne
And the crew of Douglas Gordon was the same
"On patrol near Iron Bottom, in the Isles of Solomon
They were jumped by three war squadrons though they weren't a match for one
As they came to general quarters and they sent out the alarm
Gordon's crew was sure they'd finally bought the farm
"No one living saw that battle though the fleet was quick to leave
When they reached the site they found a scene no ship-girl could believe
Ground in shallows lay three war squadrons, cut to ribbons all around
But no sign of Doug's Capt. Gordon could be found
"There are stories of the Dutchman, the Celeste and Barnham's Pride
There are stories of the Horseman and the Lady at his side
But the tale that chills my spirit, more because I know it's true
Is the tale of Douglas Gordon and his crew
Yes, the tale of Captain Gordon and her crew
"I was picket for some Wa-class, just some freighters of the line
We were shipping precious metals to the colony on Nine
It was on the homeward stretch with safety nearly in our sight
When the battleships appeared out of the night
"Now to me there was no question, for they had us four to one
And you can't fight battlewagons when you're Nu-class with no gun
So we stood by to be raided by a party yet unseen
When another ship appeared upon our screen
"First we thought it just a pirate, but the vector was all wrong
Then we thought it might be rescue, but the signal wasn't strong
When she didn't answer hailing, we all felt an unknown dread
For we saw her ire was up, eyes glowing red
"Now the courage of that superdread is shown by very few
But we never saw a dreadnought fly the way the stranger flew
Never fearing guns or numbers, like a tiger to its meat
The dreadnought then attacked the raider fleet
"And the dreadnought's flash burned brighter than all guns we'd seen before
And the dreadnought's hull was harder than the heart of any whore
As the battle rent the aether, while we watched and shook our heads
The raider ships were blown to bloody shreds
The battleships were blown to bloody shreds
"Just as quickly as it started then the fighting was all done
For the raider fleet was murdered and the dreadnought she had won
Though we tried to call and thank her, not an answer could we draw
Then she closed right in and this is what we saw
"There were thirty holes clear through her and a gash along one side
And we knew that when it happened, that nothing was left alive
For the markings all said Gordon, deep inside us each one knew
'Twas the tomb of Douglas Gordon and his crew
"Now instead of sailing off, the superdread then began to fade
First the hull, and then the bulkheads as we cowered there afraid
For as Capt. Gordon disappeared, the last to slip from view
Were the bones of Douglas Gordon and his crew
Yes, the bones of Douglas Gordon and his crew
"There are stories of the Dutchman, the Celeste and Barnham's Pride
There are stories of the Horseman and the Lady at his side
But the tale that chills my spirit, and I swear to God it's true
Is the tale of Douglas Gordon and his crew
Yes, the tale of Captain Gordon and her crew"
The ships resumed their patrol and didn't speak of things the rest of the night. No Abyssal wanted to report a ghost singing ghost stories.
Douglas Gordon - Apologies to Leslie Fish
The summoning attempt ended with no results. The crew who had been through this multiple times looked frustrated, but resigned.
Admirals Crawford and Beale glanced at each other, then approached Captain Gordon.
"Well," Crawford asked, "That was pretty typical, as well as the success rate."
"You don't seem to approve," Admiral Beale said.
"It's not a question of approve, I don't understand," Captain Gordon said.
"Spit it out, sailor," Beale said only half-jokingly.
"Okay, I assume the ritual was researched. With that in mind, you're trying to summon people who grew up on Glenn Miller, Benny Goodman, and if they were really avant garde, jazz. Who in their right mind would think they'd respond well to rock and especially heavy metal?" Captain Gordon asked, "Some might have shown up because they thought someone was being attacked, but it is hardly an enticement. Where's the John Phillips Sousa for Christsake?"
The two admirals stared at each other for a moment, then facepalmed.
------------------------------
Maggie was full-astern all her 40000 horsepower availing her naught as she was slowly dragged forward. They'd wanted to rekindle Gotengo's spirits, but tearing Haida limb from limb was definitely not the way they hoped it would play out. Captain Gordon had his hands on the former Abyssal's hips and was holding her over his head. Between the cruiser's long arms and her flexibility, it would only be a matter of time before she and Haida came to grips.
"Come down here and fight you crazy spider monkey!" Haida shouted and began jumping, letting Maggie pull her back, but coming closer to Gotengo.
"I'll eat you with syrup!" Gotengo said, "Corn syrup!"
"SILENCE!"
Maggie discovered Haida could teleport, because nothing could have hid behind her that fast any other way. Gotengo was perched on her hands and feet atop Captain Gordon's upraised hands.
"Now, Haida," Captain Gordon said, "I expect an apology from you to Gotengo, but if you'd prefer punishment, you will be denied cuddlepile privileges for one month, and every other destroyer on base will lose them for two weeks, Flagship don'tcha know."
"Two weeks," Haida's tremulous voice betrayed her terror, "Who's going to tell them?"
"I'll announce the who and why at lunch," Captain Gordon said.
"I apologize for my intemperate remarks about you and your character and hope you can attribute my remarks to an excess of enthusiasm on the subject," Haida said and smiled weakly.
The battleship had set the cruiser down on the water. All eyes turned to her. "I don't take any of it back and will accept the punishment," Gotengo said, "I will apologize to Maggie for dragging her into this. For that, I am sorry. And I will accept instead of eating Haida, watching her scarf down a heaping helping of crow."
"It's two weeks," Captain Gordon replied.
"There's a major operation laid on, and they'd hardly let me sail with you, so I'll be out either way," Gotengo said.
"You still need to learn to hold your temper," Maggie said.
"Fine, let Haida expound her wisdom, and I'll hold my tongue, deal?" Gotengo said, glaring at the destroyer.
"Deal," Maggie said, "Why wouldn't Gotengo's torpedo tactics work, and what would you propose differently?"
"The Types 9's on battleships are short-ranged, especially at high speed, which isn't particularly fast. I could outrun them. Also, the warhead is less than a hundred kilos of TNT, so the only ships small enough to be seriously effected are too fast to be caught, and anything big and clumsy enough to be caught would shrug them off," Haida said, and watched the former Abyssal building up to an explosion, "So forget firing them at a target, but fire them at targets already engaged to force them to turn into more effective torpedoes. The threat of torpedoes is more effective than the torpedoes themselves." Haida looked smug and stuck out her tongue at the cruiser.
Gotengo had mastered the near dancing fury she'd been in as Haida had been speaking. The battleship turned to her.
"Do you have a polite rebuttal?" Captain Gordon asked.
Gotengo looked behind her and down. "Rebuttal, you'd stop me," she said, "But Haida has ignored her own eyes."
"How's that?" Haida asked.
"Captain Gordon has Mark 12's," Gotengo said and grinned at Haida.
Bliss-Leavitt 21" (53.3 cm) Mark 9
Pre-World War II Torpedoes of the United States of America - NavWeaps
Bliss-Leavitt 21" (53.3 cm) Mark 9
Ship Class Used On Mod 1: World War I-era Battleships
Mod 1B: Submarines
A short torpedo developed for the submerged tubes on battleships. Originally known as the Bliss-Leavitt Mark 3 Mod 1. Used by "R" and "S" class submarines in World War II. Last torpedo built by Bliss.
Pre-World War II Torpedoes of the United States of America - NavWeaps
Bliss-Leavitt 21" (53.3 cm) Mark 9
Ship Class Used On Mod 1: World War I-era Battleships
Mod 1B: Submarines
| Date Of Design | About 1912 |
| Date In Service | 1915 |
| Weight | Mod 1: 2,059 lbs. (934 kg) |
| Mod 1B: 2,377 lbs. (1,078 kg) | |
| Overall Length | 196 in (5.004 m) |
| Explosive Charge | Mod 1: 210 lbs. (95 kg) TNT |
| Mod 1B: 395 lbs. (179 kg) Torpex | |
| Range / Speed | Mod 1: 9,000 yards (8,230 m) / 27 knots |
| Mod 1B: 5,500 yards (5,030 m) / 34.5 knots | |
| Power / Guidance | Wet-heater / Mark 8 Mod 1 gyro |
21" (53.3 cm) Mark 12
Pre-World War II Torpedoes of the United States of America - NavWeaps
21" (53.3 cm) Mark 12
Ship Class Used On Destroyers and Cruisers
Pre-World War II Torpedoes of the United States of America - NavWeaps
21" (53.3 cm) Mark 12
Ship Class Used On Destroyers and Cruisers
| Date Of Design | about 1927 |
| Date In Service | 1928 |
| Weight | 3,505 lbs. (1,590 kg) |
| Overall Length | 271 in (6.883 m) |
| Explosive Charge | 500 lbs. (227 kg) TNT |
| Range / Speed | 7,000 yards (6,400 m) / 44 knots |
| 10,000 yards (9,150 m) / 34.5 knots | |
| 15,000 yards (13,700 m) / 27.5 knots | |
| Power | Wet-heater |
A number of soldiers were wheeling huge garbage cans out of the shred building. "Hail noble soldiers, might this worthless one present a query unto thee?"
That isn't exactly what I said, but if I had to quickly learn Japanese, which has three formal forms of politeness and about four more informal ones, I was going to learn the form that was most polite first. So what I actually said was 'Soldier, may I ask you a question' but the implication was that above.
"Yes, Battleship-san," the leader said but kept wheeling.
"Where do these barrels go once they're in the truck?" I asked.
"Incinerator building," the soldier said.
"Thank you." And I made a beeline to the incinerator building. There I asked for the chief engineer, to the laughter of the guards. I admit I probably sounded like I was asking to meet with a member of the Imperial Court.
"Yo," the man said, in passable English, "Whatcha want?"
I hid a smirk at a clearly native Japanese speaking with Chicago phrasing, and a Scots accent.
"Does this building connect with the heating system, generate steam for the base, or do you just burn the shredded paper you bring in?" I asked.
The man scratched his chin. "Naw, wejas lognburn."
"Thank you, thank you very much." I did bow. For once I was thinking less as girl, and more as ship and I had a wonderful idea. I just needed the Admiral's permission.
------------------------------
The storm had mostly passed, and picket duty out in the darkness was as boring to Abyssals as it was to human sailors. They were supposed to be spaced farther apart, but too far and they'd have to use the radios to talk, and that could be monitored from the base.
"They found a crate of books," one of the cruisers said, "Really frightening stuff."
"Human propaganda," another light cruiser said, "To scare us, after all the ship-girl at the end enjoys what happens to her, yet it killed all the Abyssals, how does that work?"
"Like those papers the destroyers were punished for having, how were those propaganda? No humans could land here, not with our pickets," said the cruiser guard who'd essentially abandoned her post to get close enough to talk with the others. Every Abyssal knew the night fighters would give early warning.
"Weird stuff happening since `she` showed up," the first cruiser said, "You think she's really the chosen of the Abyss?"
"I'm more worried about the other things that have stirred up," the third cruiser said, "I saw humans walking around the town the other night."
"We killed them all and burned their bodies the first day we got here," the second cruiser said.
"Maybe we didn't burn them hot enough," the third said.
"We," the first began, then fell silent as they heard a voice, one they didn't recognize, nor could they localize. Instead, they listened.
"Douglas Gordon was the Captain of a Tillman and her crew
And he sailed and fought Capt. Gordon in the War of '42
Now Capt. Gordon was the tightest ship 'tween here and Charlemagne
And the crew of Douglas Gordon was the same
"On patrol near Iron Bottom, in the Isles of Solomon
They were jumped by three war squadrons though they weren't a match for one
As they came to general quarters and they sent out the alarm
Gordon's crew was sure they'd finally bought the farm
"No one living saw that battle though the fleet was quick to leave
When they reached the site they found a scene no ship-girl could believe
Ground in shallows lay three war squadrons, cut to ribbons all around
But no sign of Doug's Capt. Gordon could be found
"There are stories of the Dutchman, the Celeste and Barnham's Pride
There are stories of the Horseman and the Lady at his side
But the tale that chills my spirit, more because I know it's true
Is the tale of Douglas Gordon and his crew
Yes, the tale of Captain Gordon and her crew
"I was picket for some Wa-class, just some freighters of the line
We were shipping precious metals to the colony on Nine
It was on the homeward stretch with safety nearly in our sight
When the battleships appeared out of the night
"Now to me there was no question, for they had us four to one
And you can't fight battlewagons when you're Nu-class with no gun
So we stood by to be raided by a party yet unseen
When another ship appeared upon our screen
"First we thought it just a pirate, but the vector was all wrong
Then we thought it might be rescue, but the signal wasn't strong
When she didn't answer hailing, we all felt an unknown dread
For we saw her ire was up, eyes glowing red
"Now the courage of that superdread is shown by very few
But we never saw a dreadnought fly the way the stranger flew
Never fearing guns or numbers, like a tiger to its meat
The dreadnought then attacked the raider fleet
"And the dreadnought's flash burned brighter than all guns we'd seen before
And the dreadnought's hull was harder than the heart of any whore
As the battle rent the aether, while we watched and shook our heads
The raider ships were blown to bloody shreds
The battleships were blown to bloody shreds
"Just as quickly as it started then the fighting was all done
For the raider fleet was murdered and the dreadnought she had won
Though we tried to call and thank her, not an answer could we draw
Then she closed right in and this is what we saw
"There were thirty holes clear through her and a gash along one side
And we knew that when it happened, that nothing was left alive
For the markings all said Gordon, deep inside us each one knew
'Twas the tomb of Douglas Gordon and his crew
"Now instead of sailing off, the superdread then began to fade
First the hull, and then the bulkheads as we cowered there afraid
For as Capt. Gordon disappeared, the last to slip from view
Were the bones of Douglas Gordon and his crew
Yes, the bones of Douglas Gordon and his crew
"There are stories of the Dutchman, the Celeste and Barnham's Pride
There are stories of the Horseman and the Lady at his side
But the tale that chills my spirit, and I swear to God it's true
Is the tale of Douglas Gordon and his crew
Yes, the tale of Captain Gordon and her crew"
The ships resumed their patrol and didn't speak of things the rest of the night. No Abyssal wanted to report a ghost singing ghost stories.
Douglas Gordon - Apologies to Leslie Fish
The real problem is that no one really knows, everyone is making their best guess.
Anchovy Peaches XX - Swimming and Punching
Anchovy Peaches XX - Swimming and Punching
No one would have believed in the waning hours of a long and difficult day that HMCS Haida was being watched keenly and closely by an intelligence greater than hers and yet as mortal as her own; that as Haida busied herself about greeting Willie D and Hibiki after their trip from Yokosuka she was being scrutinized and studied.
Yet across the distance of the room, an intellect vast and cool and wholly sympathetic, regarded this agreeable interaction with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew her plans about her.
Haida had kicked off her shoes and socks and collapsed onto her bunk. "I'm exhausted."
Then the blankets attacked.
A leg wrapped around hers and an arm trapped hers against her sides while a free foot tickled the soles of hers and a roving hand visited every ticklish spot the destroyer had.
"HELP!" Haida yelled to her bunkmates as she struggled, then realized her attacker's identity, "You crazy WAHAHA spider HAHA monkey, let me BAHAHAWHA go!"
The rest of DesDiv 6 and the four Akizukis pulled the mattresses from the other bunks and stacked them on the floor as Gotengo kept tickling the impotently squirming Haida. Then they picked up the last and occupied mattress and slotted it into place.
Haida was gasping for air trying to keep her boilers lit as Gotengo disentangled herself. She waited for the destroyer to stabilize.
"Crazy spider monkey," Haida whispered.
"You should not feel guilty about being the only one to survive," Gotengo said, "You have not shamed anyone by being last, not your crew, not your sisters and not yourself."
"I was last as well," Hibiki said sitting next to Haida, "But I did my job. It wasn't I was good and they were bad, or vice versa, it was war, what happened happened. Same as you."
Haida swore she heard something break inside her. Hibiki was hugging her before Haida could gather her in. The other destroyers swarmed in, surrounding Haida, hugging despite the soft sobs, and Gotengo rested a hand atop her head.
She kept crying even as sleep came for her, the other destroyers never leaving her and her never losing them. For one night, the nightmares stayed away, the shadows stayed shadows instead of accusing stares of dead sister ships. Haida felt safe for the first time in a long time.
I'm gonna owe that spider monkey, she thought half-asleep, Aren't I?
------------------------------
Gotengo and Hibiki sat on the balcony watching the sun come up.
"Why didn't you tell me the same thing?" Hibiki asked.
Gotengo indicated the waking base. "What do you see out there once you remove the humans and the buildings from the list?"
"Ship-girls," Hibiki said.
"Potential Abyssals," Gotengo said, "I can see them, maybe that's why they accepted me instantly, they are almost Abyssals and as I get to know them I see the connection to the Abyss each one has. Willie D has the splintered column that would have been her connection, Haida's still existed, until we shattered it."
"Let me guess," Hibiki said, "A battleship willingly stood beside her for protection, then took a deathblow meant for her."
Gotengo nodded. "And I'm not omniscient, I guessed on Haida, yet I have no idea what demons drive Kushi."
"U-464 was lost on her first patrol, crippled by aircraft, then scuttled by her crew," Hibiki said, "She feels the need to do, and do her job. Feed her troops and - " Hibiki turned and stared. "You didn't."
"Of course I did, I'm evil," Gotengo said and hugged Hibiki.
Inside at the table, the four Akizuki-class looked at the heaping platters set before Akizuki. "Is this all for us?" Akizuki asked.
"Oh no," Kushi said.
The four destroyers relaxed slightly.
"My mutti would strip my paint down to bare metal if she caught me giving out such parsimonious portions," the Milchkuh said as she duplicated the set of platters before each Akizuki-class.
"Ducky.exe has stopped working," Hibiki said as they came in from the balcony to breakfast.
"My master plan for pate de fog grass," Gotengo said, "If you invite the Duckies for chicken and turkey do you wind up with Turkducken?"
"Duckturken I think," Hibiki said and headed to the table with the others, noting a sniffly Haida was still hugging Willie D.
------------------------------
Naka rarely worried about streaming a game with Tenryuu and Tatsuta, they always got good ratings and they were always over the top, but today GrrEatURliverX99 was not having a good day.
"NO WAY!" Tenryuu shouted, "How does a MuSlug knock off have torpedobeats like that?"
"We need help flipping the cap," Tatsuta called from her screen, "SHIT! That destroyer got me." She looked over at her sistership and said, "Quit playing with your food and kill that battleship or we lose on points."
"What warrior wins on points?" Tenryuu asked, "HA! Torpedoes away! You'll never dodge them all!" She winced. "How does that MuSlug citadel me through the front?"
The dull thud of one then another torpedo impacts sounded, followed immediately by the music announcing her death and their defeat. Naka snatched her spare keyboard out from under Tenryuu's clenched fists.
"NO! NO! NO! NO!" shouted the cruiser as she pounded the table, "A battleship with torpedoes! They shouldn't have been able to reach me!"
"We lost on points, you should have helped flip the cap," Tatsuta said.
"I am a warrior!" Tenryuu said.
"Who got torped by Spidermonkeys Pillow," Tatsuta said.
"What kind of warrior name is that?" Tenryuu demanded.
Naka carefully ended the stream before something happened.
"Probably someone divisioned up with Cute SpiderMonkey," Tatsuta said, "And considering they came in 3rd and 4th on points, pretty good warriors."
"NO!" Tenryuu shouted.
------------------------------
Gotengo patted Haida on the head as Haida rested her chin on Captain Gordon. "Told you that torp trick would work," the cruiser said.
"Yes, you were right," Haida admitted, "How was Willie D at teaching you how to destroyer?"
"Three kills," Gotengo said, "Just a bit excitable though."
"She's crazy," Willie D said.
"Just reckless," Gotengo admitted, "Now, before you all go out, I remember something about every flavor of ice cream."
"YAY!" their flotilla of admirers shouted as they began to charge towards the mess, then caught themselves and formed up around the battleship and cruiser.
------------------------------
Officially, they were surveying the outer defenses since the fleet would be under Goto's command since the rendezvous. In reality it was an excuse to spend some time together outside the office. Admiral Crawford and Northampton walked along, hand in hand, in case one of them slipped on the sand or rocks. And just enjoyed the camaraderie. The marine along and subs offshore to `guard` them also reminded them not to take it into territory they knew would harm them both.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" came from behind.
Both whirled, weapons at the ready. The Abyssal had the marine's rifle pinned against his side and it held his pistol against his head. Not pointing it at any of them, the slide rested against the man's cheek.
"He is sorry, but I am a submarine," the creature with the long hair said, "But I'd rather not have a fight when we can exchange. Tell him to stand down and you can have him back unharmed."
"Stand down," Crawford ordered lowering his pistol and watching Northampton point her weapons away from the pair. The Abyssal shoved the marine towards them, yet somehow kept the man's rifle. She slung it over her shoulder and ejected the magazine from the pistol.
"There's information that you need, and something that I want first and that is nonnegotiable," the Abyssal said, using her free hand to brush her hair aside to reveal the wounds that opened her cheeks to the jaw.
"The sub who talked to Captain Gordon," Crawford said and nodded for Northampton to dismiss her weapons, "What do we have that you want?"
"My name. You gave Gotengo her name, you've used mine, I want it," the Abyssal said and nodded to the large steel wedge with the open mouth offshore.
"It's not very -" Northampton was interrupted by the pistol shot into the ground by the Abyssal.
"My name," it said, then tossed the empty pistol back to the marine.
"Shark Dentures," Crawford said, "And it isn't very flattering, and Gotengo suffered with getting a name before she was commissioned."
"Understood, Admiral. It's mine," the Abyssal said as she ejected the rifle's mag and then pulled the bolt back to eject the loaded cartridge. Then the rifle was tossed to the marine who easily caught it. "There is a new Princess. The Abyss was unhappy the war was stalling, so a new, more aggressive Princess was sent. One who showed her power by destroying a Princess who had not been sufficiently aggressive towards humans. She parleyed that unprecedented murder of a Fleet Leader rather than an attack on her fleet and territory, into a loose coalition of those who'd rather fight you than her."
"We broke those attacks," Northampton said.
The Abyssal ignored the comment. "She unfortunately proved that a fleet's mother god could die, and with the fruitless casualties of the multipronged, multi-Princess assault on you, some thought they could better rule than serve. Demons seized several thrones, while other Princesses slaughtered their least loyal, strong supporters. Into that weakness, she is preparing to seize the sabotaged territories, all with the smiling Abyss looking on. Some Abyssals are learning that should they win against you, the war will go on until the Abyss has consumed them all. There is no victory for them anymore."
"Not Bismarck or even Alexander," Crawford said, "So who is this Princess and where is she?"
"She is hidden. The initiating crime by a Princess which stung the Abyss into action was the creation of a new type of Princess. One not based on a human ship, and not based on an Abyssal template," the Abyssal said, "Now you know enough to ask questions."
"How is that possible?" Northampton asked.
"How do humans build ships?" the Abyssal asked, "How do humans design ships? How did Feanor create and Morgoth could only copy? The fact is, that was why the Abyss went to war against its own ships. It doesn't know either and it must have that knowledge or suppress it. So from her hidden base the Red Princess seeks also to recreate that, before the Abyss can destroy all knowledge of true creation. She started with tearing another Princess to pieces and using only part of those pieces in a new creation different from all others."
"You," Crawford said.
The Abyssal nodded. "I was given to her Cruiser Demon, in hopes the Cruiser would hate and assault me endlessly, but Indianapolis did not hate submarines, she hated abandonment, and a submarine who could not bear to abandon her did not result as expected. She was furious, but unwilling to give up. So she took the remaining parts, scoured the seas for fragments of Battleship Demons and Princesses you'd slain, even battleships you have not yet summoned, and poured those fragments into the largest container she could, and set it to forge her ultimate achievement."
"Captain Gordon," Northampton said.
"And the creature without understanding of itself, with its past scattered among thousands of fragments was set near two of your destroyers, with the Red Princess' most trusted cruisers to drive them into the waiting maw as the hysteria of emptiness descended. It was to have torn them apart and sucked their lives from them in agony and terror to combat the emptiness."
"But it glitched," Northampton said, "One fragment said 'this is a nightmare and we don't have to care about not understanding'."
"Worse, it went over instantly to your side, despite being an Abyssal to its core," the Abyssal said, and laughed, "The grand weakness it has could not be leveraged, Captain Gordon's anti-aircraft suite. She lost more than Indianapolis that day. It is also why it/he does things that you don't understand. It is an Abyssal who doesn't care to act as an Abyssal, has rejected the Abyss to regain a fair form, but has many of the powers of an Abyssal. The holes are all, I see the raw, open wound where you were torn away from each other, but he instinctively sought the ship-girls' cure for the emptiness, others. Think on that, and think on the idea that an Abyssal free of the drives of the Abyss itself walked over to your side and then wishes to harvest all the others. The Abyss knows now it cannot win as long as one human remains alive."
She tossed the magazines back to the marine. "That was not what the game was for, it was a contest of strength, of ideology, to feed the war gods you have tried to walk away from. But now it has looped back to the reason you have seriously tried to walk away from war: Total Annihilation. The drive is there, but the mind overrides it, yet you hunger for it. So the Abyss claimed it was giving you a gift, and the others agreed, but it was a poison package and even the Abyss had only an inkling of that." The Abyssal started walking back to the shore.
"We thank you for what you've told us, is there anything we can offer, anything we can trade?" Crawford asked.
"I can cast a spell of insatiable lust on you and your ship-girl, and let you two share my Dentures, while the Marine slakes his lust and vengeance on my body," the Abyssal said.
While the Marine facepalmed and Northampton sputtered, Crawford asked, "You can do that?"
"Your commanders do not know if I can or cannot," the Abyssal said, "No, there is nothing you can give me, yet. I despise humans, you are inferior to me in all the ways that matter, even with your tools you are trivialities trying to ape your betters, me, but I think I can live on the same planet as you. When I've gathered the bride-price for Indianapolis, I want her here. She can take me back, or kill me, either is acceptable. Do not assume you understand, even I do not, nor does the Abyss. You say you love the sea, but you travel so little of it. I swim in the depths even your machines cannot reach, and return to the surface without harm or delay. Your four bushwhacker sub-girls are merely hope that Indianapolis is as loved and protected. Who is truly master of this world?" She climbed into the waiting jaws and the structure pulled away from the shore and descended.
A few minutes later N37 surfaced. The girl in the RN uniform with the German garrison cap wound said cap in her hands. "Sorry, Admiral, she dives too fast and too deep," the sub said, "I think she picked the spot where the island shoals away fastest."
"We'll be seeing her again," Crawford said, "And despite despising us, I don't think she wants to be our enemy."
"Should we take her up on her spell sometime?" Northampton asked.
"Maybe," Crawford said, "When we know what her game is, and I think even she doesn't know the rules yet. We may be beneath her, yet she needs us to figure this out."
No one would have believed in the waning hours of a long and difficult day that HMCS Haida was being watched keenly and closely by an intelligence greater than hers and yet as mortal as her own; that as Haida busied herself about greeting Willie D and Hibiki after their trip from Yokosuka she was being scrutinized and studied.
Yet across the distance of the room, an intellect vast and cool and wholly sympathetic, regarded this agreeable interaction with envious eyes, and slowly and surely drew her plans about her.
Haida had kicked off her shoes and socks and collapsed onto her bunk. "I'm exhausted."
Then the blankets attacked.
A leg wrapped around hers and an arm trapped hers against her sides while a free foot tickled the soles of hers and a roving hand visited every ticklish spot the destroyer had.
"HELP!" Haida yelled to her bunkmates as she struggled, then realized her attacker's identity, "You crazy WAHAHA spider HAHA monkey, let me BAHAHAWHA go!"
The rest of DesDiv 6 and the four Akizukis pulled the mattresses from the other bunks and stacked them on the floor as Gotengo kept tickling the impotently squirming Haida. Then they picked up the last and occupied mattress and slotted it into place.
Haida was gasping for air trying to keep her boilers lit as Gotengo disentangled herself. She waited for the destroyer to stabilize.
"Crazy spider monkey," Haida whispered.
"You should not feel guilty about being the only one to survive," Gotengo said, "You have not shamed anyone by being last, not your crew, not your sisters and not yourself."
"I was last as well," Hibiki said sitting next to Haida, "But I did my job. It wasn't I was good and they were bad, or vice versa, it was war, what happened happened. Same as you."
Haida swore she heard something break inside her. Hibiki was hugging her before Haida could gather her in. The other destroyers swarmed in, surrounding Haida, hugging despite the soft sobs, and Gotengo rested a hand atop her head.
She kept crying even as sleep came for her, the other destroyers never leaving her and her never losing them. For one night, the nightmares stayed away, the shadows stayed shadows instead of accusing stares of dead sister ships. Haida felt safe for the first time in a long time.
I'm gonna owe that spider monkey, she thought half-asleep, Aren't I?
------------------------------
Gotengo and Hibiki sat on the balcony watching the sun come up.
"Why didn't you tell me the same thing?" Hibiki asked.
Gotengo indicated the waking base. "What do you see out there once you remove the humans and the buildings from the list?"
"Ship-girls," Hibiki said.
"Potential Abyssals," Gotengo said, "I can see them, maybe that's why they accepted me instantly, they are almost Abyssals and as I get to know them I see the connection to the Abyss each one has. Willie D has the splintered column that would have been her connection, Haida's still existed, until we shattered it."
"Let me guess," Hibiki said, "A battleship willingly stood beside her for protection, then took a deathblow meant for her."
Gotengo nodded. "And I'm not omniscient, I guessed on Haida, yet I have no idea what demons drive Kushi."
"U-464 was lost on her first patrol, crippled by aircraft, then scuttled by her crew," Hibiki said, "She feels the need to do, and do her job. Feed her troops and - " Hibiki turned and stared. "You didn't."
"Of course I did, I'm evil," Gotengo said and hugged Hibiki.
Inside at the table, the four Akizuki-class looked at the heaping platters set before Akizuki. "Is this all for us?" Akizuki asked.
"Oh no," Kushi said.
The four destroyers relaxed slightly.
"My mutti would strip my paint down to bare metal if she caught me giving out such parsimonious portions," the Milchkuh said as she duplicated the set of platters before each Akizuki-class.
"Ducky.exe has stopped working," Hibiki said as they came in from the balcony to breakfast.
"My master plan for pate de fog grass," Gotengo said, "If you invite the Duckies for chicken and turkey do you wind up with Turkducken?"
"Duckturken I think," Hibiki said and headed to the table with the others, noting a sniffly Haida was still hugging Willie D.
------------------------------
Naka rarely worried about streaming a game with Tenryuu and Tatsuta, they always got good ratings and they were always over the top, but today GrrEatURliverX99 was not having a good day.
"NO WAY!" Tenryuu shouted, "How does a MuSlug knock off have torpedobeats like that?"
"We need help flipping the cap," Tatsuta called from her screen, "SHIT! That destroyer got me." She looked over at her sistership and said, "Quit playing with your food and kill that battleship or we lose on points."
"What warrior wins on points?" Tenryuu asked, "HA! Torpedoes away! You'll never dodge them all!" She winced. "How does that MuSlug citadel me through the front?"
The dull thud of one then another torpedo impacts sounded, followed immediately by the music announcing her death and their defeat. Naka snatched her spare keyboard out from under Tenryuu's clenched fists.
"NO! NO! NO! NO!" shouted the cruiser as she pounded the table, "A battleship with torpedoes! They shouldn't have been able to reach me!"
"We lost on points, you should have helped flip the cap," Tatsuta said.
"I am a warrior!" Tenryuu said.
"Who got torped by Spidermonkeys Pillow," Tatsuta said.
"What kind of warrior name is that?" Tenryuu demanded.
Naka carefully ended the stream before something happened.
"Probably someone divisioned up with Cute SpiderMonkey," Tatsuta said, "And considering they came in 3rd and 4th on points, pretty good warriors."
"NO!" Tenryuu shouted.
------------------------------
Gotengo patted Haida on the head as Haida rested her chin on Captain Gordon. "Told you that torp trick would work," the cruiser said.
"Yes, you were right," Haida admitted, "How was Willie D at teaching you how to destroyer?"
"Three kills," Gotengo said, "Just a bit excitable though."
"She's crazy," Willie D said.
"Just reckless," Gotengo admitted, "Now, before you all go out, I remember something about every flavor of ice cream."
"YAY!" their flotilla of admirers shouted as they began to charge towards the mess, then caught themselves and formed up around the battleship and cruiser.
------------------------------
Officially, they were surveying the outer defenses since the fleet would be under Goto's command since the rendezvous. In reality it was an excuse to spend some time together outside the office. Admiral Crawford and Northampton walked along, hand in hand, in case one of them slipped on the sand or rocks. And just enjoyed the camaraderie. The marine along and subs offshore to `guard` them also reminded them not to take it into territory they knew would harm them both.
"Do you think I'm pretty?" came from behind.
Both whirled, weapons at the ready. The Abyssal had the marine's rifle pinned against his side and it held his pistol against his head. Not pointing it at any of them, the slide rested against the man's cheek.
"He is sorry, but I am a submarine," the creature with the long hair said, "But I'd rather not have a fight when we can exchange. Tell him to stand down and you can have him back unharmed."
"Stand down," Crawford ordered lowering his pistol and watching Northampton point her weapons away from the pair. The Abyssal shoved the marine towards them, yet somehow kept the man's rifle. She slung it over her shoulder and ejected the magazine from the pistol.
"There's information that you need, and something that I want first and that is nonnegotiable," the Abyssal said, using her free hand to brush her hair aside to reveal the wounds that opened her cheeks to the jaw.
"The sub who talked to Captain Gordon," Crawford said and nodded for Northampton to dismiss her weapons, "What do we have that you want?"
"My name. You gave Gotengo her name, you've used mine, I want it," the Abyssal said and nodded to the large steel wedge with the open mouth offshore.
"It's not very -" Northampton was interrupted by the pistol shot into the ground by the Abyssal.
"My name," it said, then tossed the empty pistol back to the marine.
"Shark Dentures," Crawford said, "And it isn't very flattering, and Gotengo suffered with getting a name before she was commissioned."
"Understood, Admiral. It's mine," the Abyssal said as she ejected the rifle's mag and then pulled the bolt back to eject the loaded cartridge. Then the rifle was tossed to the marine who easily caught it. "There is a new Princess. The Abyss was unhappy the war was stalling, so a new, more aggressive Princess was sent. One who showed her power by destroying a Princess who had not been sufficiently aggressive towards humans. She parleyed that unprecedented murder of a Fleet Leader rather than an attack on her fleet and territory, into a loose coalition of those who'd rather fight you than her."
"We broke those attacks," Northampton said.
The Abyssal ignored the comment. "She unfortunately proved that a fleet's mother god could die, and with the fruitless casualties of the multipronged, multi-Princess assault on you, some thought they could better rule than serve. Demons seized several thrones, while other Princesses slaughtered their least loyal, strong supporters. Into that weakness, she is preparing to seize the sabotaged territories, all with the smiling Abyss looking on. Some Abyssals are learning that should they win against you, the war will go on until the Abyss has consumed them all. There is no victory for them anymore."
"Not Bismarck or even Alexander," Crawford said, "So who is this Princess and where is she?"
"She is hidden. The initiating crime by a Princess which stung the Abyss into action was the creation of a new type of Princess. One not based on a human ship, and not based on an Abyssal template," the Abyssal said, "Now you know enough to ask questions."
"How is that possible?" Northampton asked.
"How do humans build ships?" the Abyssal asked, "How do humans design ships? How did Feanor create and Morgoth could only copy? The fact is, that was why the Abyss went to war against its own ships. It doesn't know either and it must have that knowledge or suppress it. So from her hidden base the Red Princess seeks also to recreate that, before the Abyss can destroy all knowledge of true creation. She started with tearing another Princess to pieces and using only part of those pieces in a new creation different from all others."
"You," Crawford said.
The Abyssal nodded. "I was given to her Cruiser Demon, in hopes the Cruiser would hate and assault me endlessly, but Indianapolis did not hate submarines, she hated abandonment, and a submarine who could not bear to abandon her did not result as expected. She was furious, but unwilling to give up. So she took the remaining parts, scoured the seas for fragments of Battleship Demons and Princesses you'd slain, even battleships you have not yet summoned, and poured those fragments into the largest container she could, and set it to forge her ultimate achievement."
"Captain Gordon," Northampton said.
"And the creature without understanding of itself, with its past scattered among thousands of fragments was set near two of your destroyers, with the Red Princess' most trusted cruisers to drive them into the waiting maw as the hysteria of emptiness descended. It was to have torn them apart and sucked their lives from them in agony and terror to combat the emptiness."
"But it glitched," Northampton said, "One fragment said 'this is a nightmare and we don't have to care about not understanding'."
"Worse, it went over instantly to your side, despite being an Abyssal to its core," the Abyssal said, and laughed, "The grand weakness it has could not be leveraged, Captain Gordon's anti-aircraft suite. She lost more than Indianapolis that day. It is also why it/he does things that you don't understand. It is an Abyssal who doesn't care to act as an Abyssal, has rejected the Abyss to regain a fair form, but has many of the powers of an Abyssal. The holes are all, I see the raw, open wound where you were torn away from each other, but he instinctively sought the ship-girls' cure for the emptiness, others. Think on that, and think on the idea that an Abyssal free of the drives of the Abyss itself walked over to your side and then wishes to harvest all the others. The Abyss knows now it cannot win as long as one human remains alive."
She tossed the magazines back to the marine. "That was not what the game was for, it was a contest of strength, of ideology, to feed the war gods you have tried to walk away from. But now it has looped back to the reason you have seriously tried to walk away from war: Total Annihilation. The drive is there, but the mind overrides it, yet you hunger for it. So the Abyss claimed it was giving you a gift, and the others agreed, but it was a poison package and even the Abyss had only an inkling of that." The Abyssal started walking back to the shore.
"We thank you for what you've told us, is there anything we can offer, anything we can trade?" Crawford asked.
"I can cast a spell of insatiable lust on you and your ship-girl, and let you two share my Dentures, while the Marine slakes his lust and vengeance on my body," the Abyssal said.
While the Marine facepalmed and Northampton sputtered, Crawford asked, "You can do that?"
"Your commanders do not know if I can or cannot," the Abyssal said, "No, there is nothing you can give me, yet. I despise humans, you are inferior to me in all the ways that matter, even with your tools you are trivialities trying to ape your betters, me, but I think I can live on the same planet as you. When I've gathered the bride-price for Indianapolis, I want her here. She can take me back, or kill me, either is acceptable. Do not assume you understand, even I do not, nor does the Abyss. You say you love the sea, but you travel so little of it. I swim in the depths even your machines cannot reach, and return to the surface without harm or delay. Your four bushwhacker sub-girls are merely hope that Indianapolis is as loved and protected. Who is truly master of this world?" She climbed into the waiting jaws and the structure pulled away from the shore and descended.
A few minutes later N37 surfaced. The girl in the RN uniform with the German garrison cap wound said cap in her hands. "Sorry, Admiral, she dives too fast and too deep," the sub said, "I think she picked the spot where the island shoals away fastest."
"We'll be seeing her again," Crawford said, "And despite despising us, I don't think she wants to be our enemy."
"Should we take her up on her spell sometime?" Northampton asked.
"Maybe," Crawford said, "When we know what her game is, and I think even she doesn't know the rules yet. We may be beneath her, yet she needs us to figure this out."
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
Someone may want to look into who was slipping her literature in their spare time and what effect it had on her. ;P
Important lesson. Just because you as the author think you're being obvious, don't assume you're being obvious. You know where to look, your readers do not.
God, I love this fic so much. Thanks for continuing to produce so fast NK-33. The Gotengo/Chi-class capture scene with water boarding was, damn. Definitely got the Ultraviolence from Gordon and the dawning horror of the onlookers. Good shit, very very good.
Oh, and Leslie Fish? Impeccable taste.
Oh, and Leslie Fish? Impeccable taste.
Thank you. As long as I don't let them get too long I think I can keep up the pace, and continue to put out three chapters on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.
I think I've got a stanza for Delaware to sing about Admiral Beale. And a section on On the Day It Fell Apart.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
I actually still don't quite catch it. >.> I was snarking about the Abyssal having Tolkein knowledge and poking at the source of that--innate, contraband, osmosis from Indianapolis, etc.
Also, it's an IC email so it's fine, but since I didn't catch it the first time 'champagne' for the alcoholic drink.
Basically which character would be called Teef, and if that character has access to the internet, a whole host of things are available.
Spectrum
Tell me a secret~
- Location
- Behind you~
...the Abyssals are trolling the internet? Well, no wonder they decided to burn down humanity.
I hope I can continue to meet your expectations.
Anchovy Peaches XXI - Toys In Godland
Anchovy Peaches XXI - Toys In Godland
Gotengo wrapped herself in Haida's blankets and read another of the cartoons that Haida thought she'd cunningly hidden. But light cruisers were for hunting destroyers, rooting out the hiding places of destroyers was easy. Another chapter in Atago's Adventures. Gotengo admired the artwork, but the physics and tensile strength of materials were clearly being ignored.
She winced as she got to the last panel. "I'll never be able to see Jessie and James blasting off again the same way," she grumbled, "Thanks, Atago." She wrapped herself in the blankets and tried to go to sleep amid Haida's scent. Despite how tired and bored she was, she found she was more worried and thus sleep evaded her.
She'd been forbidden weapons and long-range transmitters, so she'd concentrated on receivers and sensor equipment. But the sortie had turned into a sweep, and they had moved beyond the range of her radios, and they weren't going to livestream a battle so that form of inclusion was gone. She didn't want the alarms going off, but she wanted something to happen. The sound of thunder and pouring rain hardly qualified.
------------------------------
I'm getting radar in my next upgrade, Captain Gordon thought as he cruised near Maggie and the Shoukaku-Zuikaku division. He couldn't provide anti-air, but he had splashed a trio of cruisers who'd been lying in wait for the carriers.
"Why do you fire one gun at a time per turret?" Shoukaku said, trying to make conversation to override her nervousness.
"I tried firing a complete salvo of all guns," Captain Gordon said, "I got cramps so bad I'd rather have been set on fire. So one shot from each turret. It also allows one shell per second to head down range. Not exactly a machinegun, but enough to keep ships honest."
U-489, Ecchi-Nein, and H41 surfaced a short distance away, Captain Gordon grimaced at the reaction of the two IJN carriers to the almost unarmed and thus unthreatening sub. "I understand her, but weren't you sunk by aircraft," he said to the carriers as he closed in on the subs, the thermos of workman's tea appearing in his hand. He was careful to stay at arm's reach from the girl.
"I found where they've been hiding," H41 said, "And something weird." She greedily downed the hot, strong tea and held out her cup for a refill. Ecchi-Nein was enjoying her own coffee.
"We're the living personification of ships, weird comes with the territory," Captain Gordon said as he refilled her cup.
"This is beyond that level of weird," H41 said, "Kushi and Goya are guarding the place, but we aren't strong enough to break in, and from what we've already found, torpedoes aren't the answer."
Gordon nodded. "Kirishima, the subs have found an anomaly, they need me to check it out," Gordon said through the radio, "Request some screening forces for the carriers."
"Tenryuu and Tatsuta are on their way," the battlecruiser replied by radio, "Tell the subs not to enjoy buddy breathing too much."
H41 blushed so hard it looked like her red lead undercoat had been exposed. Ecchi-Nein merely waggled her eyebrows at both of them.
------------------------------
The steel of the door was strong, but against the horsepower I was carrying, it was a bunch of stacked heavy boxes. The reason the torpedoes were not the solution to the issue was the small figure in the oversized egg near the door, and the half-dozen that were embedded in the wall of the corridor leading to the door.
They would occasionally move slightly, so they were alive, or exquisite animatronics, so blowing out the entire corridor with a torpedo was out. Goya led the way through the opening while I enlarged it enough for the other subs and finally myself to pass through. Ecchi-Nein stayed near. I still hadn't overcome the diaphragm spasming, although I could stay down a long time, as long as I could occasionally breathe in and out. The jokes about me inflating an Abyssal sub to bursting made the rounds, and considering the run of Atago's Adventures using my mouth to do that was the only novel thing about the jokes.
Inside I nearly collided with the three subs who were staring at the collection of spheres that lined the walls of the corridor leading to a pocket of air. I slipped past them and headed to that air pocket. Above the water was a massive lab. I couldn't have named a tenth of the equipment on the first tray of utensils I saw, let alone all the other material. None of it was the Hollywood electric arcs and flashing lights, it was all clean, well-organized, although the raised walkways in front of some of the taller gear indicated that whoever the operator was, they were the size of a child.
The subs followed me out of the water. I was headed towards several large tubes that had several, more adult forms within them. One I recognized immediately as pieces of a Yamato fused with an angled-deck carrier. It wasn't the typical Abyssal 'shove the pieces together and fill the gaps with monster' technique, she looked like the more careful fusing that ship-girls used. The second was a massive woman, taller and wider than me, but plusher, like building Ecchi-Nein or Kushi at my scale. The last was the shocker, it was me, paler skin, dark, violet hair, and empty, green eyes. She floated there as if a corpse, but occasionally a bubble escaped from her mouth. I could see the places where rigging would go, and that instead of my four turrets, she'd have five.
"It's not their fault," came from behind us. I turned around to see a young girl in a white sundress out of the corner of my eye, then the floor leapt up at me. I was unconscious before it hit me.
------------------------------
It was unusual to see Admiral Crawford in a wet suit, more that he and several ship-girls I'd never seen before hovering over me. "I'm going to guess this isn't normal," I said as the trio helped me to a sitting position. I was off the ground on a table, a multi-bulb lighting fixture, mercifully off, was overhead.
"Are," the ship-girl said, then whispered the rest when I winced, "All right, do you feel dizzy, anything out of place?"
"A lot," I said as I shaded my eyes, "Everything's too loud and bright. I swear I can hear where the walls are. Other than that, I'm just ducky. What the Hell is going on?"
"We were hoping you could tell us," Crawford said, "Your crew has been rather reticent about what happened over the last two days, and while they've been otherwise exemplarily in their help with the other 106 subjects, they've been closed-lipped about you."
"Are Ecchi-Nein and Kushi all right?" I asked, the phrase 'two days' matching the ship's chronometers.
"For a given value of all right," the ship-girl said, "You don't know who I am?"
"I'm glad I still know who I am at this point. Jokes about waking up in an ice bath missing a kidney notwithstanding, I'm assuming I had surgery, an upgrade or both."
"That's a very good way to put it," Crawford said, "Kushi and Ecchi-Nein are fine, if they don't mind being almost as tall as you are and their entire pressure hull replaced with titanium. They haven't had a chance to test it, but I suspect their crush depth and cargo capacity are increased enormously. H29, Goya and H41 weren't resized, but reskinned in HY-130 steel, which regular ships are just mastering the use of. Although their fuel tanks have been considerably increased, much to I-19's amusement," Crawford said, "But from what they told us, you got ambushed by a small child who rendered you all unconscious."
"That's something we'd like to understand," the ship-girl with the forest of cranes as crown rigging said, "Anesthetics are almost unknown to ship-girls. It's no fun having to take an angle grinder to a cute, little destroyer girl to do some repairs and have to ask her to be brave rather than jerk around and scream like a rational being would."
"Not my proudest moment," I replied, "A hundred and something, there's something in Asian mythology about that." It bugged me that the information should have been right there, but wasn't. Then something else distracted from the recall of obscure mythology. "You think I was made here."
"Considering your twin sister is hanging in a tube over there," Crawford said, "It's hard not to."
Another distraction came from the report my captain presented to me. "The Abyssals weren't protecting this place, they were hunting for it."
"So would we be," the ship-girl whose name escaped me said.
"No, I was speaking very precisely. We'd search for it. They were hunting for it. Hunt as in to kill it when they found it," I said and looked at the Admiral, "I assume Admiral Beale has been informed?"
"She's never been happier," Crawford said, "Divers from your crew and Vestal's confirm what the note pinned to your chest said, 'They're good girls, they just need a good crew.' Getting them back to Nishinoshima has been a high priority. The tubes they're in aren't plugged into anything, like a ship in mothballs, it's as if they are just awaiting a crew and commissioning."
Vestal, now that I made the connection, looked at me. "Do you remember this place?"
"My first memory is realizing I was in a nightmare," I told them, "Why would an Abyssal be experimenting with new ships?"
"How much do you know about the Silmarillion?" Crawford asked.
I shrugged. "Read it, what Tolkien fan hasn't?" I replied.
"Feanor could create, take things and make new ones, Morgoth could only corrupt and destroy," Crawford said, "The Princess working here wanted to be able to create new ship-girl types, but aside from the fixed templates and corrupting ship-girls, the Abyss cannot create new. If the Abyssals have a Repair/Construction Princess, it overturns the whole dynamic of the Abyssal power structure. Having the Abyssals able to live without the Abyss is a greater threat than we are."
"Hey, hold the heavy philosophy, I just woke up," I admonished, "So, the upgrades. A bribe to us to rescue her children, proof of concept before we awaken them, just someone who can't leave imperfection alone, what?"
"We'll have to talk to her to guess, but we also need you to get some tests, and be ready to escort the cargo ship back to base," Crawford said.
"My God!" I said, "That's what the upgrades are for. Kushi and Ecchi-Nein can transport them all back, while H41, H29, Goya and I escort them."
"Well, change of plans," Crawford said, "We aren't contenting ourselves with just the ship-girls here. We aren't on a hit-and-run raid. We're taking the whole lab right to the walls."
I received a transmission as did every ship-girl in sight. "I hope your cargo ship is fast, because someone's out to steal your prize."
Gotengo wrapped herself in Haida's blankets and read another of the cartoons that Haida thought she'd cunningly hidden. But light cruisers were for hunting destroyers, rooting out the hiding places of destroyers was easy. Another chapter in Atago's Adventures. Gotengo admired the artwork, but the physics and tensile strength of materials were clearly being ignored.
She winced as she got to the last panel. "I'll never be able to see Jessie and James blasting off again the same way," she grumbled, "Thanks, Atago." She wrapped herself in the blankets and tried to go to sleep amid Haida's scent. Despite how tired and bored she was, she found she was more worried and thus sleep evaded her.
She'd been forbidden weapons and long-range transmitters, so she'd concentrated on receivers and sensor equipment. But the sortie had turned into a sweep, and they had moved beyond the range of her radios, and they weren't going to livestream a battle so that form of inclusion was gone. She didn't want the alarms going off, but she wanted something to happen. The sound of thunder and pouring rain hardly qualified.
------------------------------
I'm getting radar in my next upgrade, Captain Gordon thought as he cruised near Maggie and the Shoukaku-Zuikaku division. He couldn't provide anti-air, but he had splashed a trio of cruisers who'd been lying in wait for the carriers.
"Why do you fire one gun at a time per turret?" Shoukaku said, trying to make conversation to override her nervousness.
"I tried firing a complete salvo of all guns," Captain Gordon said, "I got cramps so bad I'd rather have been set on fire. So one shot from each turret. It also allows one shell per second to head down range. Not exactly a machinegun, but enough to keep ships honest."
U-489, Ecchi-Nein, and H41 surfaced a short distance away, Captain Gordon grimaced at the reaction of the two IJN carriers to the almost unarmed and thus unthreatening sub. "I understand her, but weren't you sunk by aircraft," he said to the carriers as he closed in on the subs, the thermos of workman's tea appearing in his hand. He was careful to stay at arm's reach from the girl.
"I found where they've been hiding," H41 said, "And something weird." She greedily downed the hot, strong tea and held out her cup for a refill. Ecchi-Nein was enjoying her own coffee.
"We're the living personification of ships, weird comes with the territory," Captain Gordon said as he refilled her cup.
"This is beyond that level of weird," H41 said, "Kushi and Goya are guarding the place, but we aren't strong enough to break in, and from what we've already found, torpedoes aren't the answer."
Gordon nodded. "Kirishima, the subs have found an anomaly, they need me to check it out," Gordon said through the radio, "Request some screening forces for the carriers."
"Tenryuu and Tatsuta are on their way," the battlecruiser replied by radio, "Tell the subs not to enjoy buddy breathing too much."
H41 blushed so hard it looked like her red lead undercoat had been exposed. Ecchi-Nein merely waggled her eyebrows at both of them.
------------------------------
The steel of the door was strong, but against the horsepower I was carrying, it was a bunch of stacked heavy boxes. The reason the torpedoes were not the solution to the issue was the small figure in the oversized egg near the door, and the half-dozen that were embedded in the wall of the corridor leading to the door.
They would occasionally move slightly, so they were alive, or exquisite animatronics, so blowing out the entire corridor with a torpedo was out. Goya led the way through the opening while I enlarged it enough for the other subs and finally myself to pass through. Ecchi-Nein stayed near. I still hadn't overcome the diaphragm spasming, although I could stay down a long time, as long as I could occasionally breathe in and out. The jokes about me inflating an Abyssal sub to bursting made the rounds, and considering the run of Atago's Adventures using my mouth to do that was the only novel thing about the jokes.
Inside I nearly collided with the three subs who were staring at the collection of spheres that lined the walls of the corridor leading to a pocket of air. I slipped past them and headed to that air pocket. Above the water was a massive lab. I couldn't have named a tenth of the equipment on the first tray of utensils I saw, let alone all the other material. None of it was the Hollywood electric arcs and flashing lights, it was all clean, well-organized, although the raised walkways in front of some of the taller gear indicated that whoever the operator was, they were the size of a child.
The subs followed me out of the water. I was headed towards several large tubes that had several, more adult forms within them. One I recognized immediately as pieces of a Yamato fused with an angled-deck carrier. It wasn't the typical Abyssal 'shove the pieces together and fill the gaps with monster' technique, she looked like the more careful fusing that ship-girls used. The second was a massive woman, taller and wider than me, but plusher, like building Ecchi-Nein or Kushi at my scale. The last was the shocker, it was me, paler skin, dark, violet hair, and empty, green eyes. She floated there as if a corpse, but occasionally a bubble escaped from her mouth. I could see the places where rigging would go, and that instead of my four turrets, she'd have five.
"It's not their fault," came from behind us. I turned around to see a young girl in a white sundress out of the corner of my eye, then the floor leapt up at me. I was unconscious before it hit me.
------------------------------
It was unusual to see Admiral Crawford in a wet suit, more that he and several ship-girls I'd never seen before hovering over me. "I'm going to guess this isn't normal," I said as the trio helped me to a sitting position. I was off the ground on a table, a multi-bulb lighting fixture, mercifully off, was overhead.
"Are," the ship-girl said, then whispered the rest when I winced, "All right, do you feel dizzy, anything out of place?"
"A lot," I said as I shaded my eyes, "Everything's too loud and bright. I swear I can hear where the walls are. Other than that, I'm just ducky. What the Hell is going on?"
"We were hoping you could tell us," Crawford said, "Your crew has been rather reticent about what happened over the last two days, and while they've been otherwise exemplarily in their help with the other 106 subjects, they've been closed-lipped about you."
"Are Ecchi-Nein and Kushi all right?" I asked, the phrase 'two days' matching the ship's chronometers.
"For a given value of all right," the ship-girl said, "You don't know who I am?"
"I'm glad I still know who I am at this point. Jokes about waking up in an ice bath missing a kidney notwithstanding, I'm assuming I had surgery, an upgrade or both."
"That's a very good way to put it," Crawford said, "Kushi and Ecchi-Nein are fine, if they don't mind being almost as tall as you are and their entire pressure hull replaced with titanium. They haven't had a chance to test it, but I suspect their crush depth and cargo capacity are increased enormously. H29, Goya and H41 weren't resized, but reskinned in HY-130 steel, which regular ships are just mastering the use of. Although their fuel tanks have been considerably increased, much to I-19's amusement," Crawford said, "But from what they told us, you got ambushed by a small child who rendered you all unconscious."
"That's something we'd like to understand," the ship-girl with the forest of cranes as crown rigging said, "Anesthetics are almost unknown to ship-girls. It's no fun having to take an angle grinder to a cute, little destroyer girl to do some repairs and have to ask her to be brave rather than jerk around and scream like a rational being would."
"Not my proudest moment," I replied, "A hundred and something, there's something in Asian mythology about that." It bugged me that the information should have been right there, but wasn't. Then something else distracted from the recall of obscure mythology. "You think I was made here."
"Considering your twin sister is hanging in a tube over there," Crawford said, "It's hard not to."
Another distraction came from the report my captain presented to me. "The Abyssals weren't protecting this place, they were hunting for it."
"So would we be," the ship-girl whose name escaped me said.
"No, I was speaking very precisely. We'd search for it. They were hunting for it. Hunt as in to kill it when they found it," I said and looked at the Admiral, "I assume Admiral Beale has been informed?"
"She's never been happier," Crawford said, "Divers from your crew and Vestal's confirm what the note pinned to your chest said, 'They're good girls, they just need a good crew.' Getting them back to Nishinoshima has been a high priority. The tubes they're in aren't plugged into anything, like a ship in mothballs, it's as if they are just awaiting a crew and commissioning."
Vestal, now that I made the connection, looked at me. "Do you remember this place?"
"My first memory is realizing I was in a nightmare," I told them, "Why would an Abyssal be experimenting with new ships?"
"How much do you know about the Silmarillion?" Crawford asked.
I shrugged. "Read it, what Tolkien fan hasn't?" I replied.
"Feanor could create, take things and make new ones, Morgoth could only corrupt and destroy," Crawford said, "The Princess working here wanted to be able to create new ship-girl types, but aside from the fixed templates and corrupting ship-girls, the Abyss cannot create new. If the Abyssals have a Repair/Construction Princess, it overturns the whole dynamic of the Abyssal power structure. Having the Abyssals able to live without the Abyss is a greater threat than we are."
"Hey, hold the heavy philosophy, I just woke up," I admonished, "So, the upgrades. A bribe to us to rescue her children, proof of concept before we awaken them, just someone who can't leave imperfection alone, what?"
"We'll have to talk to her to guess, but we also need you to get some tests, and be ready to escort the cargo ship back to base," Crawford said.
"My God!" I said, "That's what the upgrades are for. Kushi and Ecchi-Nein can transport them all back, while H41, H29, Goya and I escort them."
"Well, change of plans," Crawford said, "We aren't contenting ourselves with just the ship-girls here. We aren't on a hit-and-run raid. We're taking the whole lab right to the walls."
I received a transmission as did every ship-girl in sight. "I hope your cargo ship is fast, because someone's out to steal your prize."
If other complications don't overshadow it.
Moje Ostberg's Revenge
Okay, since people like to flex their talents, here's a challenge, I need the names of 30 Swedish Vessels. No names currently being used on modern Swedish vessels can be used. And yes, poor Knut Mauritz "Moje" Östberg is finally getting a navy that can protect Swedish Home Waters, and his name will be one of the ships. Please include a sentence about why this ship is illustrious (or infamous) enough to be considered.
- Location
- Largest City West of the Rhine, Germany
Well you name two of the ships Kronan or Vasa. Both were ships of the Swedish Navy that sunk early in their carriers due to ad design (see links below).
Kronan (ship) - Wikipedia
Vasa (ship) - Wikipedia
Otherwise if nobody has any good ideas:
List of ships of the Swedish Navy - Wikipedia
Anchovy Peaches XXII - The Only Test Is Combat
Anchovy Peaches XXII - The Only Test Is Combat
The storm is a bad one. Rationality dictates nothing smaller than a heavy cruiser is on the seas. The DDs and CLs are back at the lab, packing up everything to get it moving. Goto's and Richardson's forces are headed home, running before the storm. The admiral had sent the four modified subs back to base with the 106 and everything else that could be stored aboard. I am out in the storm with Northampton, and every maritime strike aircraft the Japanese, Australians, Russians and Americans could put into the air. That included at least 10 squadrons of strategic bombers loaded with nonnuclear munitions. If they could see it, they could kill it.
The trouble would be seeing it. The waves still would have washed over us if we'd manifested our hulls. As it is we're getting drenched regularly. For me it is nothing, for poor Northampton it's like getting sunk every few minutes and hoping you'd come up.
"Swimming lessons are on the agenda for you," I shout over the storm. If we could use RDF to spot the Abyssals, they could do the same to us.
While it would seem suicidal having two lone ships to face the armada, we have four wolfpacks of subs close by and listening. Our job is to catch the leakers, or rescue the subs from a hunter, not to kill capital ships. I feel weird. Stronger than I have since I arrived. And I have to wonder what the price is. My Chief Engineer assured me that he and his team not only supervised but advised on all the changes and there is no hidden flaw within. I have to trust his word, but that just means he believes that.
The change in my armament is striking. The hoists will now support the Mark 8 Super heavies, in fact they replaced all the standard APCBC shells I had aboard. The Ford Mark 1A as part of the Mark 8 Range Keeper replaced my earlier systems. My aircraft announcing guns, all six of them, were replaced one for one by 5 inch/54-caliber Mark 16's with an ample supply of shells with VT fuses. The casements were plated over and all the 6-inch/53's guns there were replaced one deck higher by 6-inch/47's in Mark 16 DP twin mounts. People joked that an Iowa had a pair of Fletchers strapped to each side. I had an entire Worcester-class cruiser on each side.
The weirdest part was the boilers and the torpedoes. Of course the Chief Engineer is in love with the boilers, they're 1200 psi instead of 600 psi boilers, with all the turbines and other systems upgraded appropriately. The torpedoes are Mark 17's and I've got a second launcher on both sides, replacing one of the casement mounted guns, but retaining the armored covers. Armored covers were added for my original launchers.
All in all, it's a serious upgrade. Weapons, sensors, engines, my range took a hit, but I could still run from Australia through the canal to New York on internal fuel, at 16 knots.
At the moment, all that meant is I could clearly see what is coming at us, and that I'd come up short against it. At least three Ru-class with a Battleship Water Demon leading, a slew of cruisers screening, although at the speed they're coming in, they'll miss the subs completely. That's only the first group, they have a similar group using Ta-class, Ri-class and an Ancient Destroyer Demon to the north, no telling who's the leader of that one. To the south a Southern Demon, with a pair of Nu-class CVLs and a swarm of Tsu-class who are getting the snot beat out of them by the weather. What's below I don't know, but the subs haven't reported anything my radar hasn't already picked up.
The southern force is the one I'm most worried about. If the others keep on their course, they'll miss the evacuation area by miles. The southern force will run right over them. Then comes the question: if we kill the southern force, will it attract the other two, possibly over the evacuation force? Damn.
I glance over at Northampton, and she has no special wisdom from her proximity to an admiral. I remind myself that the job I have is to let the subs do their job and keep them from being harassed.
"We have to depend on the subs," I tell Northampton. She nods and a wave crashes over her.
"Or we could let them drown," Northampton says.
The first explosion hit the CVL, a second, and then one hits the Southern Demon. The Tsu-class begin zigzagging and I get ready to intervene as needed. Then I stare to the north and note that neither of the other groups are reacting. I heard the coded transmissions from the southern group, but the center and northern force aren't moving to support them.
"They aren't cooperating," Northampton says, "I don't think they are from one princess."
I shake my head. It's ridiculous, but she's probably right. Then my radar picks up one of the Tsu-class moving in a straight line. It's locked onto something, probably one of the girls. I raise my guns. I've not tried firing multiple shots from each upgraded turret, but that's about to change.
Radar gives me the course and speed, and my sensors tell the computer how I'm moving. I bring the guns to bear, a high-elevation shot a non-ship-girl could never make and await a high wave to disguise the gun flash. I fire and a moment later I'm nearly swamped, but eight shells are up and on their way.
"HELP!" comes through the hydrophone from H29 I'm guessing, she's too aggressive and got too close to launch her torps. One then another of the Tsu-class are hit by torps, then the staggering CVL takes a second hit and begins going down. The Tsu-class racing after the sub intersects the pattern of plunging shells I fired. It's a wide pattern since I didn't know which way she'd turn. One high-capacity hits the girl in the head, burrows in and a moment later she's just scrap spread over several dozen yards. Complete miss with seven of the shells, and a kill shot with the eighth, I'll take it. The Demon however has realized that the subs have help. She's zigzagging and trying to get the remaining Tsu-class to follow suit. The carriers are a lost cause, one sunk, the other limping away.
"BUFFs, stand by for Arclight," I send, drawing the Southern Demon's attention. She likely can't decrypt the signal, but she probably did detect it and zero in on the direction. Too bad.
The directional beam radios on the Air Force planes are a bit too sophisticated for my systems to easily decipher the data strings, but a grid coordinate tickles my antennae and I move to be ready to draw them into the kill box.
"Stay here as backstop," I tell Northampton, "And watch to see if the other forces turn. If they do, we need to lead them away from our teams." I head off at high-speed to bait the enemy into range of the BUFFs. Despite there supposedly being no enemy subs in the area, I zigzag. They pick me out of the ocean clutter, I hear their radar pinging off me as I turn and head towards the drop zone. Shell splashes chase me, and the Southern Demon is sending off frantic signals. Whether to call back her overenthusiastic charges, or get help from the other groups I don't know. I enter and exit the drop zone and give the BUFFs the word.
"They're three to five miles behind," I send.
"Get out of there, Captain Gordon," the air wing commander says, "With this weather, danger close could be a mile."
"Deassing the area," I reply and verify that the Demon hasn't gotten her troops under control.
The bombs aren't stealthy even by the standards of the day, so a couple of the cruisers take rapid evasive action as my radar, tuned to a very specific frequency, lashes them. They don't expect the bombs to chase them. The cry of rage from the Demon as her forces die is audible even over the storm.
"Fine," I say quietly as the last bombs turn the water into a seething mess. I pick off the few cripples with my secondaries. The main guns are loaded with superheavies, overkill against cruisers at this range. I dodge the initial fire of the Demon as she tries to get a bead. A straddle and a crash stop and change of course and the next salvo goes wide. She's a better shot at range than I am, despite the improved fire control. I'm still learning to use it, and now is not the time to take chance shots when my suddenly going radar dark and dodging behind waves as tall as I am repeatedly ruins her aim. I also realize that if I was built in the lab, I have one massive dupery advantage. Though my guns are sextuple 16" weapons the rigging turrets are too small for battleship guns on a ship-girl, although Abyssals carry those guns with much smaller turrets. She must think I'm just a big cruiser. She's enjoying terrorizing the `cruiser`.
I circle, treating the sea more as a moving land with hills and ridges, keeping the Demon in radar `sight` as she tries to pick me out of the clutter. Unlike many in WW2 I know just because I can `see` the radar it doesn't mean the sending ship is getting a return. A sharp turn as a wave passes between us and a flat calm follows. It's vaguely unsettling that the higher ranked the Abyssals get, the more attractive they get. The lure of sirens I guess.
The observation doesn't prevent me from putting three shots from each turret downrange at her. She wasn't expecting it and doesn't even attempt to dodge, or maybe she expects her armor to withstand light cruiser gunfire. The twinges from my arms and turrets tell me two shots per turret is about my limit for simultaneous salvo. The shots have done their job. Four direct hits and splinters from two near misses hit the Demon. The follow-up salvo of two shots per turret all slam home into the stunned Abyssal. She doesn't understand as she sinks into the turbulent sea.
A quick check with the maritime strike aircraft confirms the other forces are proceeding on their past courses. Funny, a hand-to-hand fight I'm okay, a long-range gunnery duel and I get the shakes once it's over. I maintain my evasive maneuvers, as there may be a skulker lurking out there.
The storm is a bad one. Rationality dictates nothing smaller than a heavy cruiser is on the seas. The DDs and CLs are back at the lab, packing up everything to get it moving. Goto's and Richardson's forces are headed home, running before the storm. The admiral had sent the four modified subs back to base with the 106 and everything else that could be stored aboard. I am out in the storm with Northampton, and every maritime strike aircraft the Japanese, Australians, Russians and Americans could put into the air. That included at least 10 squadrons of strategic bombers loaded with nonnuclear munitions. If they could see it, they could kill it.
The trouble would be seeing it. The waves still would have washed over us if we'd manifested our hulls. As it is we're getting drenched regularly. For me it is nothing, for poor Northampton it's like getting sunk every few minutes and hoping you'd come up.
"Swimming lessons are on the agenda for you," I shout over the storm. If we could use RDF to spot the Abyssals, they could do the same to us.
While it would seem suicidal having two lone ships to face the armada, we have four wolfpacks of subs close by and listening. Our job is to catch the leakers, or rescue the subs from a hunter, not to kill capital ships. I feel weird. Stronger than I have since I arrived. And I have to wonder what the price is. My Chief Engineer assured me that he and his team not only supervised but advised on all the changes and there is no hidden flaw within. I have to trust his word, but that just means he believes that.
The change in my armament is striking. The hoists will now support the Mark 8 Super heavies, in fact they replaced all the standard APCBC shells I had aboard. The Ford Mark 1A as part of the Mark 8 Range Keeper replaced my earlier systems. My aircraft announcing guns, all six of them, were replaced one for one by 5 inch/54-caliber Mark 16's with an ample supply of shells with VT fuses. The casements were plated over and all the 6-inch/53's guns there were replaced one deck higher by 6-inch/47's in Mark 16 DP twin mounts. People joked that an Iowa had a pair of Fletchers strapped to each side. I had an entire Worcester-class cruiser on each side.
The weirdest part was the boilers and the torpedoes. Of course the Chief Engineer is in love with the boilers, they're 1200 psi instead of 600 psi boilers, with all the turbines and other systems upgraded appropriately. The torpedoes are Mark 17's and I've got a second launcher on both sides, replacing one of the casement mounted guns, but retaining the armored covers. Armored covers were added for my original launchers.
All in all, it's a serious upgrade. Weapons, sensors, engines, my range took a hit, but I could still run from Australia through the canal to New York on internal fuel, at 16 knots.
At the moment, all that meant is I could clearly see what is coming at us, and that I'd come up short against it. At least three Ru-class with a Battleship Water Demon leading, a slew of cruisers screening, although at the speed they're coming in, they'll miss the subs completely. That's only the first group, they have a similar group using Ta-class, Ri-class and an Ancient Destroyer Demon to the north, no telling who's the leader of that one. To the south a Southern Demon, with a pair of Nu-class CVLs and a swarm of Tsu-class who are getting the snot beat out of them by the weather. What's below I don't know, but the subs haven't reported anything my radar hasn't already picked up.
The southern force is the one I'm most worried about. If the others keep on their course, they'll miss the evacuation area by miles. The southern force will run right over them. Then comes the question: if we kill the southern force, will it attract the other two, possibly over the evacuation force? Damn.
I glance over at Northampton, and she has no special wisdom from her proximity to an admiral. I remind myself that the job I have is to let the subs do their job and keep them from being harassed.
"We have to depend on the subs," I tell Northampton. She nods and a wave crashes over her.
"Or we could let them drown," Northampton says.
The first explosion hit the CVL, a second, and then one hits the Southern Demon. The Tsu-class begin zigzagging and I get ready to intervene as needed. Then I stare to the north and note that neither of the other groups are reacting. I heard the coded transmissions from the southern group, but the center and northern force aren't moving to support them.
"They aren't cooperating," Northampton says, "I don't think they are from one princess."
I shake my head. It's ridiculous, but she's probably right. Then my radar picks up one of the Tsu-class moving in a straight line. It's locked onto something, probably one of the girls. I raise my guns. I've not tried firing multiple shots from each upgraded turret, but that's about to change.
Radar gives me the course and speed, and my sensors tell the computer how I'm moving. I bring the guns to bear, a high-elevation shot a non-ship-girl could never make and await a high wave to disguise the gun flash. I fire and a moment later I'm nearly swamped, but eight shells are up and on their way.
"HELP!" comes through the hydrophone from H29 I'm guessing, she's too aggressive and got too close to launch her torps. One then another of the Tsu-class are hit by torps, then the staggering CVL takes a second hit and begins going down. The Tsu-class racing after the sub intersects the pattern of plunging shells I fired. It's a wide pattern since I didn't know which way she'd turn. One high-capacity hits the girl in the head, burrows in and a moment later she's just scrap spread over several dozen yards. Complete miss with seven of the shells, and a kill shot with the eighth, I'll take it. The Demon however has realized that the subs have help. She's zigzagging and trying to get the remaining Tsu-class to follow suit. The carriers are a lost cause, one sunk, the other limping away.
"BUFFs, stand by for Arclight," I send, drawing the Southern Demon's attention. She likely can't decrypt the signal, but she probably did detect it and zero in on the direction. Too bad.
The directional beam radios on the Air Force planes are a bit too sophisticated for my systems to easily decipher the data strings, but a grid coordinate tickles my antennae and I move to be ready to draw them into the kill box.
"Stay here as backstop," I tell Northampton, "And watch to see if the other forces turn. If they do, we need to lead them away from our teams." I head off at high-speed to bait the enemy into range of the BUFFs. Despite there supposedly being no enemy subs in the area, I zigzag. They pick me out of the ocean clutter, I hear their radar pinging off me as I turn and head towards the drop zone. Shell splashes chase me, and the Southern Demon is sending off frantic signals. Whether to call back her overenthusiastic charges, or get help from the other groups I don't know. I enter and exit the drop zone and give the BUFFs the word.
"They're three to five miles behind," I send.
"Get out of there, Captain Gordon," the air wing commander says, "With this weather, danger close could be a mile."
"Deassing the area," I reply and verify that the Demon hasn't gotten her troops under control.
The bombs aren't stealthy even by the standards of the day, so a couple of the cruisers take rapid evasive action as my radar, tuned to a very specific frequency, lashes them. They don't expect the bombs to chase them. The cry of rage from the Demon as her forces die is audible even over the storm.
"Fine," I say quietly as the last bombs turn the water into a seething mess. I pick off the few cripples with my secondaries. The main guns are loaded with superheavies, overkill against cruisers at this range. I dodge the initial fire of the Demon as she tries to get a bead. A straddle and a crash stop and change of course and the next salvo goes wide. She's a better shot at range than I am, despite the improved fire control. I'm still learning to use it, and now is not the time to take chance shots when my suddenly going radar dark and dodging behind waves as tall as I am repeatedly ruins her aim. I also realize that if I was built in the lab, I have one massive dupery advantage. Though my guns are sextuple 16" weapons the rigging turrets are too small for battleship guns on a ship-girl, although Abyssals carry those guns with much smaller turrets. She must think I'm just a big cruiser. She's enjoying terrorizing the `cruiser`.
I circle, treating the sea more as a moving land with hills and ridges, keeping the Demon in radar `sight` as she tries to pick me out of the clutter. Unlike many in WW2 I know just because I can `see` the radar it doesn't mean the sending ship is getting a return. A sharp turn as a wave passes between us and a flat calm follows. It's vaguely unsettling that the higher ranked the Abyssals get, the more attractive they get. The lure of sirens I guess.
The observation doesn't prevent me from putting three shots from each turret downrange at her. She wasn't expecting it and doesn't even attempt to dodge, or maybe she expects her armor to withstand light cruiser gunfire. The twinges from my arms and turrets tell me two shots per turret is about my limit for simultaneous salvo. The shots have done their job. Four direct hits and splinters from two near misses hit the Demon. The follow-up salvo of two shots per turret all slam home into the stunned Abyssal. She doesn't understand as she sinks into the turbulent sea.
A quick check with the maritime strike aircraft confirms the other forces are proceeding on their past courses. Funny, a hand-to-hand fight I'm okay, a long-range gunnery duel and I get the shakes once it's over. I maintain my evasive maneuvers, as there may be a skulker lurking out there.
Anchovy Peaches XXIII - If It's Stupid but it Works . . .
Anchovy Peaches XXIII - If It's Stupid but it Works . . .
Angie was waiting for Gotengo to return. The former Abyssal was one of the few ship-girls left on the base, and with that few, she'd been allowed to patrol. The storm that the Abyssals had brewed up was going to be over the island soon, so Northampton had recalled Gotengo and the other surface and air patrols. She wanted to avoid the Hurricane Halsey situation, and the subs could dive beneath the worst of it and still maintain an active picket.
She was not happy to find Admiral Beale had arrived with a C-130 full of `experts`. She could stomach the woman in small doses, but she was always tempted to find a baseball bat and explain to the admiral about human interactions. She'd been through then Warrant Officer Smiley's hand-to-hand, technically rape-prevention, training as had every female on the base, both ship-girls and humans. Sexual harassment had dropped to zero when it got around that a Gurkha had taught all the pretty, young things, and the older ones, what to do when offended/threatened.
Angie judged she had about a 50-50 chance against the admiral. The admiral making small talk was just creepy.
"Waiting for their return?" the Admiral asked.
Angie wondered where Delaware had run off too. "Yes, sir," Angie said, "Gotengo's out with the patrols, and the subs are sending troops back. Last I heard, the battle was still going on. Wouldn't the CIC be a better place to observe or manage the battle?"
The admiral nodded, ignoring the not so subtle clue to bug off. "Here she is now," the admiral said, then froze as not one, but three, five, seven, eight figures stepped out of the water and stared back at the sea as if waiting for another. They had no rigging, all had various half-healed injuries, but their glowing eyes and pale skin told anyone who knew, they were Abyssals.
Without their rigging and mostly white-haired, pale-skinned women, Angie could only guess at their type, but she knew they were flagships or demons at least, the three smallest had to be a Light Cruiser Demon and a pair of Destroyer War Demons. Angie knew enough not to run, and began sidling slowly towards the door. Even if Gotengo arrived, only Northampton and Delaware were available for defense, they would be outnumbered and outmatched. Even Angie knew the `joke` that they were here on Nishinoshima so they'd only need one nuke to deal with any problem. It seemed that it wasn't a joke anymore.
One of the Demons caught sight of them, and froze in terror. Angie looked behind her to see if Captain Gordon had arrived unexpectedly, like Northampton yesterday, he'd been sent back to base with some wounded, but was farther away than Gotengo.
"Guys," the Demon groped backwards, not taking her eyes off Angie and the Admiral. She managed to grab another and yank her around. That Demon froze too.
"Stand fast," Admiral Beale said quietly, "Go big or go home."
Angie interpreted that as let Beale make her gamble, but be ready to run.
"Curfew was four hours ago," the admiral said as she approached, tapping her watch, "I assume there's an explanation for this behavior?"
The Demons tried to get themselves in a semblance of a line, they saluted, a third with the wrong hand, and tried to look both military and innocent. But you needed training and experience to do that, they apparently had neither. "We were unaware of the rules of the base being we are, ah," the largest one said, holding the salute as Admiral Beale hadn't returned it.
"Swedish," the helmetless Destroyer Demon hissed.
"Yes, I mean ya, Swedish," the Demon said, "It's why we're so pale, and we look so funny, Sweden has many diverting ship designs."
Angie stared at the line of nervous Demons. I'm more Swedish that they are, she thought, The Swedish Chef is more Swedish than they are.
Gotengo's arrival made it both better and worse. She'd obviously caught the ninth member of their group, and looked ready to take on the other eight on principle. The Demons looked at the former torpedo cruiser, the fallen figure with her black hair and single horn, a Battleship Water Demon, then back at the former Abyssal whose hand had dropped to the knife at her side. One of Mister Smiley's specials forged of Abyssal steel, this one from some of Gotengo's own armor belt.
"Ship Gotengo," the Admiral ordered, "This Swedish squadron arrived without properly checking in, and blind drunk if their behavior is any indication. Please escort them to the brig. We can sort this out when they've sobered up."
Gotengo cocked her head in disbelief.
"Please," the admiral said again.
"You two, pick her up, and carry her with us," Gotengo said, "Then follow me."
"How did you?" the admiral asked as Gotengo passed her.
"Same way I could take out any other Abyssal, it's the one thing they've zero defense against," Gotengo said as she led the terrified Abyssals out of the bay.
"Wait," the Water Battleship Demon said, "There's another force out there, one we were running away from, that's why we didn't radio in, we were trying to evade them."
It worried Angie even more that Gotengo had evidently defeated the brains of the operation, and now they were right back where they'd started, with an Abyssal force between them and the fleet.
------------------------------
Gotengo was glad to see Willie D, the destroyer instantly summoned her full rigging and prepared to sell her life dearly. "Fall in behind, we're taking this Swedish squadron to the brig for being drunk on duty," Gotengo said and watched Willie D's expression change from resigned terror to utter incredulity.
"Swedish?" she said as she looked over the group, "Swedish?"
"Lutefisk?" the Aircraft Carrier Water Demon said, grinning weakly.
"Look," Gotengo said sharply, "You know who you are, we know who you are, our admiral's orders are to not acknowledge it, don't get into the habit of lying about it. Just accept you've got this far, and understand that you're walking across a razor blade, don't make it worse by sitting down and trying to slice forward."
All the Abyssals winced at that, but fell in behind Gotengo and ahead of Willie D.
The arrival at the brig was interesting. "Major Callahan, good to see you, this squadron of Swedish ships arrived on duty drunk and the admiral's orders are to lock them up until they sober up."
The chief marine on the base looked over the nervous Abyssals and the confused Willie D, then back to Gotengo. "Did Kongo put you up to this?" he asked.
"That would make things easier," Gotengo said, "But no, they arrived without transmitting their intentions and Admiral Beale wants them to sober up before she talks to them."
"Yeah, Delaware called us, I thought she was playing a Kongo," the marine said, "Corporal Wilcox, take these ladies to the brig, individual cells, have some food brought in and read them the rules."
The marine was pretty enough to be a ship-girl, but she was also one of the few who taught beside Mister Smiley. "This way." She unlocked the door and beckoned the Abyssals forward. The nervous crew stayed clumped together, then seemed actually disappointed in the cells.
"They don't do the special punishments the Abyssals do," Gotengo said, she waited as the last Abyssal entered her cell, and the corporal left the cell block to arrange for food.
"Now you all listen to me. There's an old human saying you need to remember: 'No better friend, no worse enemy'," Gotengo said, "If this is real, you haven't chosen an easy option, just an easier one. If you want to transition, there will be times you get so confused it will hurt in a pain that exceeds anything you ever suffered. I and others will be there to help you through that. You'll learn a lot about yourself in those times, and you'll get a lot of questions that gnawed at you in the dark of the night answered."
She swept the group with a gaze. "But if this is a fake, a deceit, if you hurt my friends other than to save their lives, I will deliver you to pain and terror beyond anything you've ever heard of, beyond anything you can even imagine. And only when I believe I have inflicted anguish and dread on you until I believe the lesson of your failing will carry onto your next incarnation will I permit you to die. Are you clear?"
"As glass," the Destroyer Water Demon said.
"I like her, she's scary," the Battleship Water Demon said.
"Am I interrupting?" Wilcox asked as she entered with a clipboard.
"Just explaining that my move from Chi-class to Gotengo was harder than anyone imagined, even me," Gotengo said, "And that actions have consequences. Say, Corporal, does Mrs. Tenent make house calls?"
"I can ask, she's probably in bed already," Wilcox said.
"Pity, I could show you part of, well, I have a better idea. Is Major Callahan still out there? I need to borrow back some DVDs I lent his son. Willie, can you get my player from the subpens?"
"Sure, shouldn't you clear that through Admiral Beale?" the destroyer asked.
"Good point, I'll still need the DVDs and player if she says yes," Gotengo said.
"This isn't one of those 'beyond anything you can imagine' things, is it?" the Southern Demon asked.
"Sort of, for some," Gotengo said, "But I survived it."
The Abyssals exchanged nervous glances.
------------------------------
Admiral Beale despised the mothering that Delaware was obsessing with after 'her admiral' had escaped the danger, but she ignored it for the moment as she tried to contact the rest of the Allied forces in the area. They still had the secure landline to Yokosuka, but the storm prevented the secured radios either here, at Crawford's island, or both from communicating. But it couldn't wait.
"Admiral Crawford, your squadron from Sweden arrived, they were drunk so Gotengo and Willie D took them to the brig where they can sleep it off. On a personal note, Angie is staying with the subs tonight due to the storm. And frankly I don't blame her, how many princesses did it take to generate this monster?"
"At least five by our best guess, thank you," Crawford said.
"What can you send to get them squared away?" Beale asked.
"Other than what's on the way, nothing," Crawford said, "This isn't Typhoon Cobra, this is Typhoon Violet, we have 12.5 psi and 170 - 180 knot winds. The cargo subs and their escorts, and Captain Gordon, with two wounded subs and a chewed on DD. Everything else is sheltering in place or running south at best speed."
"The safety of your command is your highest priority," Beale said, "Handing you off to Captain Simonsen." She gave the phone over.
Beale moved to where Major Andre, a French liaison officer who usually worked with the ex-French colonies on setting up coast watchers, was talking with Goto's staff. "They can't send anything either and although the BUFFs can fly over most of this, nothing can see through it to shoot anything," the French officer said, "They are hoping this one blows out like Violet did."
"I'm not ordering anyone to sail through this, but God must be testing us," Beale said and finally accepted the coffee and corn bread Delaware had practically been chasing her with for nearly half-an-hour.
------------------------------
The Southern Demon stared at the ceiling of her cell, although with the worsening weather outside, she preferred to think it their bunker. Her thoughts were on the edutainment that Gotengo had provided them before lights-out. "I want the name Twilight Sparkle."
The Anchorage Demon said, "The Swedish Government has to give us names, we can't pick them. I want to be Pinkie Pie."
"They should name you Fluttershy," one of the Destroyer Water Demons said.
"I didn't say named, I'd like to be her," the Anchorage Demon said, "So happy. The shadows are to be giggled at, instead of feared."
"Get some sleep," the Battleship Water Demon said, "They are going to have a lot of questions, and no matter how much they make our skin crawl, we have to answer them."
"I want to be Rarity, so elegant," Light Cruiser Demon said, and suspecting the retort, "Although we should name our Destroyers Rarity and Spike."
The chuckles from the others went unremarked on by the two being ridiculed.
"I still think Nightmare Moon was being subverted into training them," the Aircraft Carrier Water Demon said, "How could she fail to just kill them?"
"Ladies," Corporal Wilcox said, "Lights out means go to sleep, she's right you've got a busy day tomorrow."
"Yes mommy," one of the Southern War Demons said, and was disappointed by the lack of reaction.
Angie was waiting for Gotengo to return. The former Abyssal was one of the few ship-girls left on the base, and with that few, she'd been allowed to patrol. The storm that the Abyssals had brewed up was going to be over the island soon, so Northampton had recalled Gotengo and the other surface and air patrols. She wanted to avoid the Hurricane Halsey situation, and the subs could dive beneath the worst of it and still maintain an active picket.
She was not happy to find Admiral Beale had arrived with a C-130 full of `experts`. She could stomach the woman in small doses, but she was always tempted to find a baseball bat and explain to the admiral about human interactions. She'd been through then Warrant Officer Smiley's hand-to-hand, technically rape-prevention, training as had every female on the base, both ship-girls and humans. Sexual harassment had dropped to zero when it got around that a Gurkha had taught all the pretty, young things, and the older ones, what to do when offended/threatened.
Angie judged she had about a 50-50 chance against the admiral. The admiral making small talk was just creepy.
"Waiting for their return?" the Admiral asked.
Angie wondered where Delaware had run off too. "Yes, sir," Angie said, "Gotengo's out with the patrols, and the subs are sending troops back. Last I heard, the battle was still going on. Wouldn't the CIC be a better place to observe or manage the battle?"
The admiral nodded, ignoring the not so subtle clue to bug off. "Here she is now," the admiral said, then froze as not one, but three, five, seven, eight figures stepped out of the water and stared back at the sea as if waiting for another. They had no rigging, all had various half-healed injuries, but their glowing eyes and pale skin told anyone who knew, they were Abyssals.
Without their rigging and mostly white-haired, pale-skinned women, Angie could only guess at their type, but she knew they were flagships or demons at least, the three smallest had to be a Light Cruiser Demon and a pair of Destroyer War Demons. Angie knew enough not to run, and began sidling slowly towards the door. Even if Gotengo arrived, only Northampton and Delaware were available for defense, they would be outnumbered and outmatched. Even Angie knew the `joke` that they were here on Nishinoshima so they'd only need one nuke to deal with any problem. It seemed that it wasn't a joke anymore.
One of the Demons caught sight of them, and froze in terror. Angie looked behind her to see if Captain Gordon had arrived unexpectedly, like Northampton yesterday, he'd been sent back to base with some wounded, but was farther away than Gotengo.
"Guys," the Demon groped backwards, not taking her eyes off Angie and the Admiral. She managed to grab another and yank her around. That Demon froze too.
"Stand fast," Admiral Beale said quietly, "Go big or go home."
Angie interpreted that as let Beale make her gamble, but be ready to run.
"Curfew was four hours ago," the admiral said as she approached, tapping her watch, "I assume there's an explanation for this behavior?"
The Demons tried to get themselves in a semblance of a line, they saluted, a third with the wrong hand, and tried to look both military and innocent. But you needed training and experience to do that, they apparently had neither. "We were unaware of the rules of the base being we are, ah," the largest one said, holding the salute as Admiral Beale hadn't returned it.
"Swedish," the helmetless Destroyer Demon hissed.
"Yes, I mean ya, Swedish," the Demon said, "It's why we're so pale, and we look so funny, Sweden has many diverting ship designs."
Angie stared at the line of nervous Demons. I'm more Swedish that they are, she thought, The Swedish Chef is more Swedish than they are.
Gotengo's arrival made it both better and worse. She'd obviously caught the ninth member of their group, and looked ready to take on the other eight on principle. The Demons looked at the former torpedo cruiser, the fallen figure with her black hair and single horn, a Battleship Water Demon, then back at the former Abyssal whose hand had dropped to the knife at her side. One of Mister Smiley's specials forged of Abyssal steel, this one from some of Gotengo's own armor belt.
"Ship Gotengo," the Admiral ordered, "This Swedish squadron arrived without properly checking in, and blind drunk if their behavior is any indication. Please escort them to the brig. We can sort this out when they've sobered up."
Gotengo cocked her head in disbelief.
"Please," the admiral said again.
"You two, pick her up, and carry her with us," Gotengo said, "Then follow me."
"How did you?" the admiral asked as Gotengo passed her.
"Same way I could take out any other Abyssal, it's the one thing they've zero defense against," Gotengo said as she led the terrified Abyssals out of the bay.
"Wait," the Water Battleship Demon said, "There's another force out there, one we were running away from, that's why we didn't radio in, we were trying to evade them."
It worried Angie even more that Gotengo had evidently defeated the brains of the operation, and now they were right back where they'd started, with an Abyssal force between them and the fleet.
------------------------------
Gotengo was glad to see Willie D, the destroyer instantly summoned her full rigging and prepared to sell her life dearly. "Fall in behind, we're taking this Swedish squadron to the brig for being drunk on duty," Gotengo said and watched Willie D's expression change from resigned terror to utter incredulity.
"Swedish?" she said as she looked over the group, "Swedish?"
"Lutefisk?" the Aircraft Carrier Water Demon said, grinning weakly.
"Look," Gotengo said sharply, "You know who you are, we know who you are, our admiral's orders are to not acknowledge it, don't get into the habit of lying about it. Just accept you've got this far, and understand that you're walking across a razor blade, don't make it worse by sitting down and trying to slice forward."
All the Abyssals winced at that, but fell in behind Gotengo and ahead of Willie D.
The arrival at the brig was interesting. "Major Callahan, good to see you, this squadron of Swedish ships arrived on duty drunk and the admiral's orders are to lock them up until they sober up."
The chief marine on the base looked over the nervous Abyssals and the confused Willie D, then back to Gotengo. "Did Kongo put you up to this?" he asked.
"That would make things easier," Gotengo said, "But no, they arrived without transmitting their intentions and Admiral Beale wants them to sober up before she talks to them."
"Yeah, Delaware called us, I thought she was playing a Kongo," the marine said, "Corporal Wilcox, take these ladies to the brig, individual cells, have some food brought in and read them the rules."
The marine was pretty enough to be a ship-girl, but she was also one of the few who taught beside Mister Smiley. "This way." She unlocked the door and beckoned the Abyssals forward. The nervous crew stayed clumped together, then seemed actually disappointed in the cells.
"They don't do the special punishments the Abyssals do," Gotengo said, she waited as the last Abyssal entered her cell, and the corporal left the cell block to arrange for food.
"Now you all listen to me. There's an old human saying you need to remember: 'No better friend, no worse enemy'," Gotengo said, "If this is real, you haven't chosen an easy option, just an easier one. If you want to transition, there will be times you get so confused it will hurt in a pain that exceeds anything you ever suffered. I and others will be there to help you through that. You'll learn a lot about yourself in those times, and you'll get a lot of questions that gnawed at you in the dark of the night answered."
She swept the group with a gaze. "But if this is a fake, a deceit, if you hurt my friends other than to save their lives, I will deliver you to pain and terror beyond anything you've ever heard of, beyond anything you can even imagine. And only when I believe I have inflicted anguish and dread on you until I believe the lesson of your failing will carry onto your next incarnation will I permit you to die. Are you clear?"
"As glass," the Destroyer Water Demon said.
"I like her, she's scary," the Battleship Water Demon said.
"Am I interrupting?" Wilcox asked as she entered with a clipboard.
"Just explaining that my move from Chi-class to Gotengo was harder than anyone imagined, even me," Gotengo said, "And that actions have consequences. Say, Corporal, does Mrs. Tenent make house calls?"
"I can ask, she's probably in bed already," Wilcox said.
"Pity, I could show you part of, well, I have a better idea. Is Major Callahan still out there? I need to borrow back some DVDs I lent his son. Willie, can you get my player from the subpens?"
"Sure, shouldn't you clear that through Admiral Beale?" the destroyer asked.
"Good point, I'll still need the DVDs and player if she says yes," Gotengo said.
"This isn't one of those 'beyond anything you can imagine' things, is it?" the Southern Demon asked.
"Sort of, for some," Gotengo said, "But I survived it."
The Abyssals exchanged nervous glances.
------------------------------
Admiral Beale despised the mothering that Delaware was obsessing with after 'her admiral' had escaped the danger, but she ignored it for the moment as she tried to contact the rest of the Allied forces in the area. They still had the secure landline to Yokosuka, but the storm prevented the secured radios either here, at Crawford's island, or both from communicating. But it couldn't wait.
"Admiral Crawford, your squadron from Sweden arrived, they were drunk so Gotengo and Willie D took them to the brig where they can sleep it off. On a personal note, Angie is staying with the subs tonight due to the storm. And frankly I don't blame her, how many princesses did it take to generate this monster?"
"At least five by our best guess, thank you," Crawford said.
"What can you send to get them squared away?" Beale asked.
"Other than what's on the way, nothing," Crawford said, "This isn't Typhoon Cobra, this is Typhoon Violet, we have 12.5 psi and 170 - 180 knot winds. The cargo subs and their escorts, and Captain Gordon, with two wounded subs and a chewed on DD. Everything else is sheltering in place or running south at best speed."
"The safety of your command is your highest priority," Beale said, "Handing you off to Captain Simonsen." She gave the phone over.
Beale moved to where Major Andre, a French liaison officer who usually worked with the ex-French colonies on setting up coast watchers, was talking with Goto's staff. "They can't send anything either and although the BUFFs can fly over most of this, nothing can see through it to shoot anything," the French officer said, "They are hoping this one blows out like Violet did."
"I'm not ordering anyone to sail through this, but God must be testing us," Beale said and finally accepted the coffee and corn bread Delaware had practically been chasing her with for nearly half-an-hour.
------------------------------
The Southern Demon stared at the ceiling of her cell, although with the worsening weather outside, she preferred to think it their bunker. Her thoughts were on the edutainment that Gotengo had provided them before lights-out. "I want the name Twilight Sparkle."
The Anchorage Demon said, "The Swedish Government has to give us names, we can't pick them. I want to be Pinkie Pie."
"They should name you Fluttershy," one of the Destroyer Water Demons said.
"I didn't say named, I'd like to be her," the Anchorage Demon said, "So happy. The shadows are to be giggled at, instead of feared."
"Get some sleep," the Battleship Water Demon said, "They are going to have a lot of questions, and no matter how much they make our skin crawl, we have to answer them."
"I want to be Rarity, so elegant," Light Cruiser Demon said, and suspecting the retort, "Although we should name our Destroyers Rarity and Spike."
The chuckles from the others went unremarked on by the two being ridiculed.
"I still think Nightmare Moon was being subverted into training them," the Aircraft Carrier Water Demon said, "How could she fail to just kill them?"
"Ladies," Corporal Wilcox said, "Lights out means go to sleep, she's right you've got a busy day tomorrow."
"Yes mommy," one of the Southern War Demons said, and was disappointed by the lack of reaction.
Southern Demon
Anchorage Demon
Southern War Demon (2)
Aircraft Carrier Water Demon
Light Cruiser Demon
Destroyer Water Demon (2)
Battleship Water Demon
Anchorage Demon
Southern War Demon (2)
Aircraft Carrier Water Demon
Light Cruiser Demon
Destroyer Water Demon (2)
Battleship Water Demon
Tale Swapper
(Unverified Madman)
- Location
- Lost Among a Sea of Imaginings and Dreams
Huh, word's getting around about what humanity can do for the Abyss.
I suppose Sweden will be happy.
I suppose Sweden will be happy.
IKEA will be getting rich from selling new desks to the navies of Germany and Russia as the Swedes just became the second navy in the Baltic, possibly in all of Europe (after the Royal Navy). The people beating their heads on their desks will require a lot of replacements. Only the Italian Navy might match them, and they are tied up in the Mediterranean.
Neruz
Rogue Spiderbanana
- Location
- The Land of Fire and Poison
It's still stupid!
Stupidity does not preclude function and plenty of stupid things work; just look at evolution.
Last edited: