Any Port in a Storm (Kantai Collection x Worm)

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Chapter 1

Farmerbob1

Rest in Peace
Location
Atlanta-ish
Any Port in a Storm

Kantai Collection x Worm

Chapter 1


"We're almost to shore, Fubuki, just a little further."

I know that voice? Who? Oh. Kongo. She's towing me.

I tried to reply, but all that came out was "Mmff." Shaking my arm, I tried to make her let me go, the effort woke me up slightly. "Can stay here, drift. You get to shore, refuel, then come back. If you run out of fuel, we're both stuck."

Kongo's hand tightened a bit and my efforts were useless. "Oh no, you don't. I'm not going anywhere without my escort, Special Destroyer Fubuki. I've got twice your cruising range, and you aren't that hard to tow. Besides, we're close to shore. I can see tall buildings. Not much further now."

I could only nod, and try to concentrate on keeping myself on an even keel so I'd be easier to tow. I wasn't in any condition to be making decisions.

"How did this happen, Kongo? How did we get here? Where is here?"

"I still don't know, Fubuki. We'll find out soon."

"I'm sorry, Kongo, I'm loopy from lack of fuel." I tried to think back, for any clues, but there wasn't anything I could remember to explain it. Kongo had just had her boilers serviced, and needed to test them. The admiral had asked me to accompany her, and I'd gladly agreed. Then there was a strange storm, out of nowhere. The squall was so fierce, with clouds and rain so dense that we collided as we tried to keep station with one another. Kongo, of course, was barely scratched. I bruised up pretty badly, but nothing broken.

Kongo's head swiveled and she changed heading slightly. For a moment I couldn't see why, but then my attention was drawn by a small ship approaching. I could see human men and women on deck. It was a strange, sleek looking ship, white with a red stripe, but not a hospital ship - it was armed. I could identify only the smallest of weapons, .50 caliber machine guns, dual barrel, fore and aft, but hospital ships were never armed.

"Looks like we have human company, Fubuki. Patrol craft, maybe a hundred long tons. They are approaching head-on, possibly to render assistance?" Kongo's voice sounded worried.

"Leave me if you have to, Kongo." I whispered.

"No. Even if they are aggressive, they are nothing to me, and would be hard pressed to scratch you. They don't even have torpedo tubes." Kongo shook my arm a little. "Maybe we can get a bit of fuel for you, eh?"

The mention of fuel made my stomach growl so loudly, I could feel my face burning in embarrassment. Kongo laughed. "We'll get those boilers stoked soon, Fubuki, don't you fret."

I hoped she was right. Nobody had been responding to our radio codes, and I didn't recognize the shape of the approaching patrol craft.

The human-crewed vessel passed us to our port, and turned sharply to come around behind us. In a couple minutes, they matched speed with us and a human voice came out of speakers.

In English. I didn't speak English at the time. Kongo did. She had been built in England, so she started talking to them.

Then I noticed the flag. A United States flag. A quick compass check and I verified that we were travelling west, towards shore. We'd been travelling west for a very long time. Somehow we were off the east coast of the United States?

"Kongo." I whispered. "We're off the east coast of the United States. Atlantic ocean."

"What? How?" Kongo patted her stomach with a quizzical look on her face, and then looked confused. "I don't have the range for that, without going through the Panama-" She stopped abruptly. "Later. We'll deal with that later. First we need to get you into port."

I couldn't imagine how we'd somehow managed to travel halfway around the globe. I certainly didn't have the cruising range for that. Kongo barely did, even going through the Panama Canal, and her endurance would be sharply reduced by needing to tow me the last several hundred kilometers. She was certainly low on fuel, but she wasn't acting like she was as low as she should have been after such a long voyage. She would be far more worried.

There was a great deal of talk back and forth between Kongo and the humans on their ship. I heard my name and Kongo's mentioned several times. Eventually, Kongo brought us alongside the little ship.

"They keep calling us capes, and have never heard of shipgirls. They want to hoist us up onboard to take us into port."

That got my attention. "They want to what?" I stared at the tiny little human ship.

Kongo laughed loudly, and drew me into a hug so tight I could barely breathe. "Who knows, maybe they can. That vessel looks pretty advanced, even though it's clearly only a patrol or pilot boat of some sort." She released me from the hug.

"If they can lift you, I'll let them try to lift me." She grinned. "I hope they can. I've never been lifted into the air before! Zeppelin Battleship Kongo, they'll call me! I'll offer to take the Admiral for a ride!" She waggled her eyebrows at me and we both burst into laughter.

Kongo and I pulled up right underneath a small cargo hoist.

There's no way this is going to work. That's a light hoist. No more than a couple tons.

I hadn't understood the conversation between the humans and Kongo, so I asked her directly. "You told them we weigh more than humans, right?"

"Fubuki, a lady does not discuss her weight. Especially with men." Kongo smiled at me. "They insisted they wanted to take us onboard, so we'll let them try."

This is going to end badly if I'm not very careful. How do these people not know anything about shipgirls? We've been fighting the Abyssals for years.

A light cable with a harness meant for a human to wear dipped down towards the water, and I carefully grabbed it, making absolutely certain to grip it loosely and put no weight on it. "Kongo, tell them I'm about to test the cable."

Kongo and the humans on ship talked. The humans clearly looked and sounded confused. Eventually Kongo spoke sharply and the humans all backed away from the rail, going either far aft or forward, or into the ship itself.

"They definitely have no idea what a shipgirl is. I eventually had to tell them we wouldn't try to come aboard until they got out of reach of the cable."

This cable is only a couple centimeters in diameter. No way this is working.

I tugged on the cable lightly. Everything seemed stable, so I put some weight on it. I'd barely displaced myself in the water before the cable snapped, the whip ends striking me and the human ship with loud cracks of impact. There was a lot of yelling from the crew.

I wiped my cheek where the cable had struck me. My makeup was a mess already, probably, but that cable had surely left a mark. I scowled.

The humans and Kongo were yelling back and forth, and not all of the words sounded polite at first. Eventually, a basket was lowered to us on a rope, with sandwiches in it.

I have no idea what kind of sandwiches they were. I was so ravenous that there was no such thing as taste. Kongo did manage to grab one sandwich half. I didn't say anything. She was surely hungry too, and she had been towing me.

The humans on ship were pointing little boxes at us, like they were cameras. But they didn't look like cameras. I heard a word that I knew. Piranha. Looking into the basket, which was now empty, I looked back up at them and rubbed my stomach, and gave them a slight, polite bow. "Domo arigato."

They all laughed like I'd said something very funny. One of them, with bar insignias on his shoulder indicating that he was a low ranking officer seemed to be reading something off the back of his camera, and said "Anata wa, fubuki kangei sa rete imasu." Very formal, and horribly pronounced, but I understood it, and nodded, acknowledging his politeness.

A camera with a notebook of language phrases on the back of it. That's pretty clever.

But how did he know he would need Japanese today?

Kongo and the officer, a lieutenant, spoke a little longer. The sandwiches had really been helpful. I had energy again, enough to go at least ten kilometers. I started circling Kongo and the little human ship while they talked.

There weren't any more loud words, fortunately. The humans apparently recognized that we only looked human. What had Kongo said they tried to call us? Capes? I couldn't see how 'cape' might be equivalent to 'shipgirl', assuming that Kongo translated it right.

I stopped, and stared, before asking. "Kongo, how good is your English, really? You were built in England, but you didn't stay there long."

She sniffed at me. "I speak perfect English, don't you worry."

I worried.

"So, ah, what are they saying?"

"Something about being met at the docks by a Dragon, but we have to be careful about another dragon. They use the English word for one of them, but the Chinese word for the other. They seem to be talking about two different people."

I worried some more. "Well, lung dragons are supposed to be benevolent, mostly, right? Which dragon are we supposed to careful about, again?"

Kongo looked confused, and spoke to the humans again, then relayed the information to me. "We avoid the male human Lung dragon. The female Dragon in armor is the Dragon we need to talk to." There was more conversation. "This ship is apparently based north of here a few miles in a marina. Since we aren't in distress any longer, they aren't allowed to take us to their base. They call themselves the Coast Guard, but most of what they do is anti-smuggling and search and rescue. They are not at war, and have never heard of Abyssals, but they did say something about a Leviathan that was very dangerous."

"I hope we can find someone who speaks Japanese." I muttered as Kongo turned to the humans on the ship and waved hugely.

There was a tremendous growling noise from Kongo's direction. Loud enough that I saw several of the humans looking around nervously, scanning the horizon, clearly looking for squalls. I knew what that sound was.

If I start calling her 'thunder-belly' she'll drag me to shore by my ankles. I know it.

I resisted the temptation.

Kongo's face turned bright red and started moving quickly towards the docks, which were barely visible. Radar was showing me returns that promised something more like a breaker's yard than docks. Even from about three kilometers offshore, I could see ships that had obviously settled to the bottom of the bay, tilted to the side like no floating ship would unless severely damaged and taking on water.

I took station in front of Kongo like a proper line-ahead escort. "They aren't in a war now, but I wonder if they have fought a war recently, Kongo. Did they say anything about a recent war? Those look like scuttled ships in shallows."

"They did not say, but if they are allowing strange warships to simply enter their city perimeter where we might bombard their civilians, they aren't at war, and probably haven't been recently." Kongo sounded confident. Mostly.

I worried about that more and more as we approached the docks. They were in terrible condition. As shipgirls, we didn't need to moor like human ships, but we needed to be close to water. We were quite a bit less powerful onshore, because our rigs only worked in the water.

Kongo was muttering about how terrible the docks looked by the time we reached shore. There were no large vessels present that looked like they were seaworthy. Something was strange.

A large human man was waiting for us at the docks. He had a lot of other men around him, behind him to his flanks. Not knowing what to expect, Kongo and I stayed in the water, barely offshore.

The man spoke politely, in Japanese, while looking mostly at Kongo. "Hello ladies. It has been a long time since I have seen traditional Japanese clothing worn properly. Though I must also admit I've never seen them worn with such heavy-looking battle armor and guns." He paused, thinking. "Please excuse my behavior. My name is Lung. These are my employees."

I wasn't an expert on humans, but the men behind Lung did not look like refined individuals. They were dirty, and carrying weapons. Their eyes had the look of violence. Lung was cleaner, bigger, better dressed, but he still carried himself like a fighter, a hard man. His eyes flickered over us, hungrily.

Kongo spoke slowly. "I am Kongo." She pointed to me. "This is Fubuki. We were advised to avoid a man named Lung. Please stand aside. We are waiting for an armored woman named Dragon to arrive. We want no conflict."

"These are my docks. If you want no conflict, then you will join my organization, and when Dragon arrives you will tell her to leave." It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command.

"You are not our admiral, Lung." Kongo's voice grew very serious. No nonsense. "I will not take orders from you. We will wait for the one named Dragon. Leave us. I do not wish to harm you."

Realizing that I should have taken over the conversation before Kongo had gone too far, I slapped my forehead, and everyone stared at me, briefly, as my face turned bright red.

Battleships don't do subtle.

I grabbed Kongo's arm and tugged at it, hard, barely budging her. "Kongo, please no. We just got here. If you accidentally hurt people here, they might not let us provision ourselves."

There was a strange orange glow from Lung's eyes, and the men behind him backed up. "Kongo is an odd name for a woman." His eyes never left Kongo. "The little one seems to be saying that you have experience fighting. While I normally don't let ABB females fight, I will make exceptions for capes. Would you care to show your prowess?"

Both of us simply stared at him. We knew what we looked like to humans. Without our rigs, we could pass for human as long as nobody tried to move us against our will, or attack us. With our rigs, we were very daunting. No human would dare attack even a frigate like me, and this Lung human was asking for a fight, with a battleship shipgirl? I checked myself and Kongo again. Our rigs hadn't mysteriously disappeared.

Kongo shook her head angrily. "I do not fight humans. You are too weak. Even if I were to try to be gentle, I might kill you by accident. Leave us."

"I am not human. I am Lung. You will join my organization, or I will make certain you cannot join my enemies." He and Kongo locked eyes, and I could see Kongo's eyes narrow as he continued. "You are Japanese. You are confident in your strength. I would be happy to have you in my all-Asian organization. Not as whores, if that is what concerns you. Provided, of course, that you really are capes."

As he finished speaking, he smiled, an animal's grin, with teeth showing. I definitely saw fire coming from his mouth, and the teeth were more pointed than human teeth normally were.

"You say you aren't human?" Kongo asked. "You look human. You don't seem to be able to talk by radio-"

Lung interrupted. "You are Japanese, and you do not know me? I am THE Lung."

I looked at Kongo and she looked at me, clearly confused. "Fubuki, have you ever heard of a man named Lung?"

Shaking my head, I responded while keeping my eyes on Lung. "I've heard of a few men with that name, Kongo, but none of them ever did anything particularly noteworthy off the top of my head."

When I said that, Lung seemed to puff up like a balloon. His clothing ripped in several places, and his face grew strangely shiny, like fish scales.

"Enough. I will not be insulted like this any longer." He pointed at Kongo. "You dare to call yourself 'Indestructable'? Then you come here to my docks, insult me in front of my people, and pretend you don't know who I am? I am no longer offering you a place in my organization."

Lung seemed to be getting larger in front of my eyes. He ran forward, and struck far faster than a man his size should be able to move. His body was hot enough that when he stepped into the water, steam billowed.

Definitely not human. What is he? A cape? Are capes Dragon-people?

Kongo didn't have a chance to react before he struck her in the face, with a resounding concussive force that actually moved air around us.

A spray of water and steam hid Kongo and Lung from me, briefly, as I quickly backed away. I stayed close enough to support her if it, somehow, became necessary, but the first rule of escorting battleships is: NEVER, EVER get between a battleship and her target.

As a misting of falling water drifted through the steam, clearing the air, Kongo became visible as she walked towards the beach, dragging Lung by his neck through the surf. "I said I didn't want a fight. Fortunately I haven't found one." When she reached the sand, and stepped out of the water, her rig disappeared.

Lung was tearing at Kongo's arms with what appeared to be claws, trying to free himself. It wasn't even scratching her kimono. She tried to set him back on his feet, but he was too tall now, and getting larger, quickly, so she threw him away from her onto the sand.

"I don't want to hurt you, or have you hurt yourself, Lung. Stop. I'll tell other people that I actually felt that, if it makes you feel any better and preserves your dignity."

The look that Lung gave us from where he landed on the sand was pure rage.

I shook my head. There wasn't anything else I could do. I wasn't pulling Kongo out of this if the Lung man didn't back down. Still, I had to say something, even though it was pretty much useless. "Kongo. They don't know what we are, remember? He thinks you're human."

Without taking her eyes off Lung, Kongo crossed her arms, and scowled. "Oh, bother. Does that mean you're really going to attack me again, not-a-human?" She paused and smirked. "I'm not in my rig any longer."

Lung said nothing, but blew fire at us. It wasn't a lot, and it really wasn't that hot, but some of my hair and the edges of my kimono caught fire. I quickly splashed water on myself, but didn't take my eyes off Kongo, who had moved between Lung and me to block the fire. Her kimono wasn't even singing.

"You may be able to turn into a dragon, Lung, and I admit that it very interesting - but I'm not very impressed." She glanced back at me, and squinted a little. "However, you've done some damage to my escort with your fire." She snapped back to face him and started walking forward into his fire. "If you don't leave us now, you will get hurt. Though I'll try not to kill you by accident, I can't guarantee your life."

As she stepped closer to Lung, Kongo cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders before crooking her finger in his direction. "If you really insist on doing this, let's get it over with. I'm hungry."

Lung stopped breathing fire and charged her again, with even more speed than before. He was at least fifteen feet long now, a cross between a man and a dragon. This time, he slammed his shoulder into Kongo's stomach, clearly trying to knock her down.

I heard bones break, and winced. I didn't much like this Lung person, and they were certainly the one responsible for the fight, but senseless violence and injuries were, well, senseless.

As Lung bounced off Kongo's midsection, she chuckled. "I won't have to lie when I tell people I felt that one." She leaned over and grabbed one of his ankles while he was still shaking his head. "It seems as if you might get stronger the longer you fight. I'll remember that. You remember this. If you attack me or Fubuki again, there won't be a third fight. You've got a long way to go before you're strong enough to hurt me."

Lung's body was still reshaping itself from human to dragon, quickly growing larger, and the oddly-shaped broken shoulder no longer appeared broken.

"If you say that you yield, I will stop." Kongo commented as she dragged Lung into a wide-open section of beach, ignoring him as he clawed at her. She then used her grip on his leg to start slamming him back and forth on the beach like a club, beating him into the sand progressively harder until he finally stopped moving. By the time that happened, I could barely see for all the sand and dust in the air. I had to give the Lung-credit, he never yielded or stopped fighting until he was unconscious.

I stepped out of the water, and walked up next to Kongo, both of us looking at Lung's body. He was still breathing, and I could see that he was getting smaller. Several obviously broken bones reshaped themselves under his skin.

I would LOVE to be able to heal that quickly!

A female voice suddenly spoke, startling both of us. "I don't believe I've ever seen anyone handle Lung quite so... casually, before."

Kongo, who had been looking at her blistered hands with annoyance, snapped her head towards the new speaker like it was one of her turrets. "Are you also going to insist on fighting me? I didn't even make it to shore before this clown insisted on having me make a fool of him. Some human ports are bad for human sailors fighting, but this is ridiculous."

I was staring, with my mouth open. The woman speaking was wearing the most incredibly complex armor I'd ever seen.

"I am Dragon. I have no interest in fighting you, if you are Kongo and Fubuki. The captain of the Mako said you were coming to the docks, and said that one of you only spoke Japanese?"

I realized then, that she was speaking near-perfect Japanese, but very formally. When I realized I was blatantly staring with my mouth open, I snapped my mouth shut, and I felt my face getting red at my own rudeness to stare like that.

Kongo wasn't in a good mood, and snapped out a reply in a tone that wasn't very friendly, even though none of the words were offensive. "We are. The crew of the Mako were polite and helpful. We're sorry about the winch cable, but nobody was hurt. They've apparently never dealt with shipgirls before. This is getting more frustrating with every passing minute."

"Shipgirls, you say?" The woman in the suit commented after a couple seconds. "I've never heard of shipgirls either, but I have heard of the ships Kongo and Fubuki. Is there a connection?"

"We are the spirits of those ships, Dragon." I offered, tentatively.

Kongo looked at me and nodded, clearly wanting me to handle the conversation. She knew she was in a bad mood, and she was staring at the blisters on her hands. As she saw me nod back, she turned her back on Dragon and walked to the water to cool her hands.

Lung must have been extremely hot to burn Kongo at all.

Dragon, after a couple seconds, continued. "I don't understand. You two triggered and somehow became the personification of old World War 2 Japanese warships?"

"Old?" I looked at her sharply. "I am not old, and neither is Kongo. We are the spirits of the ships, not the ships themselves. We do not age like humans." I scratched my ear. "What do you mean by triggered?"

Dragon held out her two hands, palm up, and bowed slightly. "I did not intend to offend. Triggering is what happens to make humans into capes, and both of those ships sank in-."

I shot her another glare. "We know when we sank, and we don't want to talk about it. It brings back memories." Realizing that I was beginning to lose my temper with someone who didn't know better, I raised my hands and then bowed slightly back. "I apologize. Talking about our sinking is not something a shipgirl will do, typically, unless it was a voluntary scuttling and no crew went down with them."

"I see. Like triggers then. Most capes don't like to talk about their triggers."

"Really? Wow." I looked at the unconscious Lung, and connections were formed. "So he was human at one time? I've never heard of anything like that."

Dragon chuckled. "Yes, he was. He still is. Mostly." She paused. "I would like to offer you two a place to stay, at least until you learn a little bit about this world. It's pretty clear that you come from one of the more distant dimensions. We can work to try to send you back, if you like, but it may take some time. Scion broke things pretty badly, just about everywhere."

I nodded firmly. "We're needed back home. Though I've never heard of a Scion."

Dragon stared at me. "A very remote dimension then." Her head turned slightly. "Well, I see the PRT is here. They will take care of Lung, at least until he manages to escape again." The mechanical suit gestured to where several trucks had arrived, and I saw men and women sprinting across the sand until they reached Lung and started spraying him with white foam.

Kongo stepped up beside me. "We would greatly appreciate a refueling and facilities to repair the minor damage we've sustained." She glared at Lung.

"From the sensor readings I'm getting from you two, I'm not sure we can heal you. We'll try, but we can certainly help with resupply if you don't need anything exotic. Taking down Lung is good enough to get you a lot of favors." She stared at us for another few seconds, then shook her head. If we just get you raw materials, can you heal yourselves?"

I nodded. "Slowly, but we can repair minor damage to ourselves over time with rest and resupply. It's a little like human healing. I'm sure you don't have any instant repairs."

The woman in the fantastic suit of armor asked "So, what supplies do you need first?"

Kongo's stomach growled again, even more loudly than when it had happened next to the little human ship offshore. Dragon stared at the two of us, specifically at Kongo. The men and women spraying foam on Lung looked up and around, muttering about thunder.

"If that was what I think it was, I'm guessing food is at the top of the list?" She paused. "The captain of the Mako said they gave you two thirty sandwiches."

I blushed. "They gave us a lot of sandwiches, but I was out of fuel, so Kongo let me eat them."

"You ate thirty sandwiches? By yourself?" The woman sounded more curious than shocked.

Grinning at her, I replied. "Now I know it's true. You definitely don't know about shipgirls."

Kongo rubbed her stomach. "I could really use a meal. I'm below ten percent. I haven't been this low in years."

**

Six hours later.

**

"You two are fascinating. Where is all that food going? You've eaten three buffet restaurants out of stock."

I blushed, and had to give her a compliment back. "You're pretty fascinating too! That armor was really interesting when I thought it was a person inside, but it's even more incredible that you're far away and controlling the suit by radio. Can you show me how to do that with torpedoes, maybe?"

Dragon smiled at me. "Maybe. We'll have to see how your rigs work, if we can understand them. We can't understand most tinker tech well enough to copy it." After a brief pause she continued. "Well, you aren't tinkers, so maybe it will work anyway.

"Well, going back to your question about the food, we don't know, really." Kongo muttered as she set her forty-first refill plate down on the table. I was only on my seventh. "We're a lot more massive than humans our size."

I nodded and added a little. "If we don't move under our own power, it's hard for humans to move us at all. Kongo can carry me around if she has to, but I can barely budge her if she can't move. I tried to move Yamato once, by myself. I almost blew my engines. She's never said how much she masses."

With a chuckle, Dragon spoke in a low tone. "I could tell. The way Lung stopped when he hit you, and then when you were beating the stuffing out of him. You weren't using any of the tricks that extremely strong capes normally use for leverage, just whacking him back and forth on the sand like you were playing a giant game of Whack-a-mole. Colin is going to enjoy that video so much." She paused. "Lung really can get much stronger than that, by the way. You knocked him out when he was still small and weak. Don't get overconfident."

Kongo looked up. "I told him already. I will not start a fight, but if he attacks us again, I will treat him like a true enemy. There won't be a third fight if there's ever a second. He's nowhere near my weight class, at least at first." She looked at the blisters on her hands, and scowled.

Dragon nodded. The machine that she called a 'remote' was so amazingly fantastic, I could barely stop staring at it whenever it did something so human. "If you don't mind me asking, between us ladies, ah, how much do you weigh? I really do need to know this, so we know what sort of facilities we can safely use to house you."

Kongo shook her head. "As long as we move ourselves, there's no problem. We move our own mass like we were human. I'm sitting in this wooden chair now, see? I have no idea how it works, but it does."

Dragon shifted a little, uncomfortably. "If one of you is injured and the other is not available to help move you? We need to know how we can move you."

What she was asking made sense, and I knew Kongo would be stubborn about it if I didn't lead off. "Less than two-point-one million kilos." I whispered in a very low tone so nobody other than Kongo and Dragon could hear.

Dragon stared at me, briefly, then turned to Kongo, expectantly.

Kongo looked at me, irritated, then cupped her hands around the sides of her mouth and pointed her mouth at Dragon, carefully whispering, in a low tone. "Less than thirty-eight million kilos." She waggled her finger under Dragon's mechanical nose. "That's with full provisions and munitions mind you! I've never been over thirty-eight million kilos. Never."
 
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Chapter 2
Any Port in a Storm

Kantai Collection x Worm

Chapter 2


I scratched my ear as Defiant finished a sentence. A moment later, I heard what he had said in English, translated to Japanese. "Kongo, Fubuki, what you did to Lung was, frankly, amazing. There are other parahumans that can fight him when he's weaker, but not many." He paused. "Dragon also explained that between the two of you, you ate nearly a thousand kilos of food in a period of eight hours. While your abilities would certainly allow for you to eventually find a way to earn an income to pay for your food, at least, the PRT will happily cover your needs if you agree to work with us."

The little ear insert itched like mad. Dragon had provided me with the tiny device that translated languages. It was smaller than the last joint of my smallest finger, and fitted in my left ear like an earplug. Kongo spoke English, and didn't need one. Of course, she and I both wanted to know how it worked. It almost seemed like magic that something so small could do so much. Dragon kindly pointed out to us that our knowledge of electronics was insufficient to even begin understanding the technologies in the device, and it wasn't even what humans called tinker tech. She did indicate that electronics technology wasn't restricted, and we could go to school to learn about it if we stayed in this dimension for a long time.

I wish Dragon had been able to stay.

I started to speak, but Kongo raised a finger and gave me a serious look. I nodded back and relaxed back into my chair to listen.

Kongo nodded to me. "Thank you, Fubuki. I suspect you were about to say what I want to say, but I am the one who has already fought here, once."

She was senior to me, even if she normally let me talk when serious things were being discussed.

After she saw me lean back, Kongo turned to Defiant. "Dragon also said there aren't any Abyssals on this world. That all conflict is between humans. Shipgirls will not fight humans by choice. If pressed, we will fight, as you saw when Lung refused to leave us alone. I can even imagine scenarios where I might kill humans, if a greater number of humans are being threatened, or if we encounter humans that are clearly insane, and a threat."

Defiant's face showed obvious dissatisfaction. "We have noncombat roles, if those are the only roles you are willing to fill while we try to help you get home. You certainly have the strength and durability to be extremely useful for tearing down damaged buildings and earth moving, and there's a lot of that work to be done." He sighed. "I understand if you have seen enough of war, and prefer peace. You certainly aren't alone in that."

Kongo's face lost all expression, and her voice went toneless. "You do not understand. War is perfectly acceptable. Fubuki and I are shipgirls. Warship shipgirls. There is no place we feel more at home than a battle at sea, and I know of no warship shipgirl that does not look forward to battle against Abyssals."

Defiant's face softened slightly. "But not against humans."

Leaning forward abruptly enough that she made Defiant jerk back a bit, Kongo replied. "Exactly. As a ship, I killed many enemies of my crew, both during shore bombardments and naval ship-to-ship action. I also remember 1200 of my crew dying onboard when one of my forward magazines exploded shortly before I sank." She tapped the table between herself and Defiant. "As a shipgirl, I fight to preserve human life." There was a brief pause, and when she continued speaking, her voice was lower, rough with emotion. "Many shipgirls believe that we are being given an opportunity to balance the scales, to redeem ourselves for the misery and destruction we helped humans visit on one another."

I put my left hand on Kongo's right arm, not in restraint, but to offer comfort. No shipgirl liked to talk about her sinking or the humans we killed in our first incarnations, but this conversation was too important to avoid.

It was clear that we were being offered a place, at least temporarily, but we needed to make sure that what they thought they would get from us matched what we were willing to give. Anything else would be a bad faith arrangement, and we needed help to get back home.

Kongo's left hand settled gently on my right, with a careful squeeze. We looked at each other sadly, both of us remembering the deaths we had been responsible for.

After a few seconds, I gently asked. "The past is the past, Kongo. Do you want me to continue from here?"

"That might be for the best, Fubuki." She nodded at Defiant. "I hope I didn't worry you."

The man was silent for several seconds as he thought, tracing his fingers absently into the holes Kongo had poked into the table with her fingernails. "Stainless steel table, a quarter inch thick." He looked at her right hand, which was stretched out in front of her. "And you poked holes through it without even chipping a nail." He stared at her. "It was intentional?"

"It was. Just to make a point. About how easily I can hurt people." Kongo met Defiant's gaze until he looked away.

"Good. I thought it was." He took a deep breath. "You aren't the only ones who feel that way. I'll introduce you to Riley in a few days, perhaps, if you decide to stay with us, and after we get some testing done to determine what you can do."

I nodded, and Defiant's gaze turned to me directly. Dragon was entirely mechanical, and was very interesting. Defiant appeared to be mostly human, but part machine. His mixture of man and machine bothered me to no small degree. But this conversation needed to happen.

"I doubt that you have facilities to properly test Kongo and me." I responded, doubtfully.

"We might surprise you. There are many very powerful capes in the world."

"We aren't capes, Defiant." I paused, considering. "We will not utilize munitions until we determine that you are able to replace them." I nodded at Kongo. "Her main guns fire 356mm rounds, and we need real, full-sized munitions in our possession to reload. Dragon said human industrial capacity was damaged severely by Scion, and tooling up for creating significant numbers of rounds will surely be very time consuming and expensive."

Defiant's mouth twitched in a bit of a smile. "You underestimate what Dragon and I might do to meet your needs, but we can start with simple strength and endurance tests if you like?"

I looked at Kongo and she gave me a sly grin. "We'll to the same thing we did with the Mako's hoist, Fubuki. If you can be tested on their equipment, then I'll allow them to test me." She tilted her head and glanced at Defiant with a serious face. "I will watch the testing. This is not negotiable."

He nodded, accepting the condition. "I would prefer that, Kongo. We don't have equipment built yet that will allow us to transport Fubuki if she grows too weary to move."

This is funny, the way they just don't quite understand.

Kongo and I looked at each other and grinned. Human misconceptions of shipgirls were fairly good humor fodder when we went out into the world of humans on our world. On this world, it was hilarious so far. I was fully topped off on fuel. I doubted that these tests were going to take more than several days, which is how long my fuel would last, even if I ran my boilers at maximum power output.

Defiant was looking back and forth at us. "OK, what did I just step in? I know I said something that you two found funny."

I reassured him with a friendly smile. "Just a misconception. You are misattributing human characteristics to shipgirls. I might get mentally tired of whatever you want me to do, but I will not grow physically weary unless the testing extends to several days without food. I have plenty of fuel."

Defiant's features went still, briefly, then he smiled. "Understood. Do you sleep?"

"We can, but we can go without for much longer than humans, if needed." I answered.

"The testing will not be in a dangerous environment, will it?" Kongo asked.

Good question. We still don't have a real repair facility. I looked at Defiant and raised an eyebrow. I'd seen a human on Television make the expression, and I practiced it, because it was so perfect to express a question or doubt, without words.

Defiant looked at me, and I swore he started to smile, but then he shook his head. "The testing area is a large gymnasium with lots of specialized training equipment. It's used for regular training exercises for a lot of capes, most of them are nowhere near as durable as you are." He nodded at Kongo. "Unlike you, I haven't seen anything about Fubuki's performance yet, so we'll start off slow. Humans are a bit more fragile than you two are, most of us, so we know to warm up."

I smiled at Kongo when she looked at me. "I'll be fine, Kongo, but I'll be happy to have you there. I'm actually looking forward to it. Most of the exercises on land at the base were just for endurance, not strength. For obvious reasons."

Defiant looked at me quizzically. "I'm not following you."

I shrugged. "We didn't have any way to really test our power accurately on land. Everything breaks too easily."

He looked back and forth at the two of us. "Am I going to regret asking to test you two ladies?"

Kongo shook her head. "Fubuki is a very careful, very responsible shipgirl, Defiant. She won't break your toys."

I hope.

I looked at Kongo and raised one eyebrow.

She laughed at me. "You are. Both things." She waggled a finger at me. "No self-doubt allowed. I, Kongo, declare it to be true that you are careful and responsible."

Defiant was looking back and forth at the two of us, again, expressionless. "Do you have any idea how strong you are, Fubuki?"

"Sure. My yard specs are fifty thousand horsepower. I'm not sure how my gearing translates into arm and body strength."

"I... see." He paused. "Yes, I will ask that you be careful with most of the equipment."

I gave him a very serious, short bow. "I will be very careful, Defiant. I have no desire to cause damage to your training and testing equipment."

**

The two of us followed Defiant down several flights of stairs to the bottom of the stairwell, and then we walked into a long hallway, with lots of doors to either side. Defiant showed us the side rooms, they were medical facilities. Not operating rooms, but examination rooms, with lots of electronic equipment that I couldn't name.

As we approached the double doors at the end of the hallway, I could hear lots of clicking and clacking, people talking in encouraging tones, and some sounds that were more growls and groans of extreme effort as opposed to actual words.

Defiant pushed open the doors, and there was lots of white, chrome, and mirrors.

"It's so beautiful." I whispered.

Defiant looked at me and smiled.

I wonder if he built any of this equipment? Dragon said he was a tinker.

Every machine gleamed like the finest chrome, black materials covered the parts of machines which appeared to be where one might put one's body. The floor was white, and looked like marble, but I could see that the tiles were too close together to be grouted, so it couldn't be real marble. The mirrors on every wall allowed me to see myself from every angle, and gave the room an appearance of being huge.

Not. Breaking. Anything. It's too beautiful.

Over in the corner, two large, muscular human men wearing masks, sweaty T-shirts, and shorts were working next to each other. One was laying on a metallic raised platform, and repeatedly lifting what looked to be a train axle, with several thin train wheels on either side.

The other man was standing close, and helping the first man lift the axle. Something didn't look right. The man on his back was straining hard, and the one standing seemed tense, but was not straining. The standing man was a really poor partner if they were supposed to be sharing the load. After a few more steps following Defiant, I noticed something else about the standing man.

He's only holding his hands under it, he's not helping to lift.

"It's called spotting, Fubuki. One person stands ready to keep the other from being injured by falling weight. It's one of the things that people are required to do here when working with what we call free weights."

"That makes a great deal of sense." Kongo commented.

Even something like that train axle could kill a human, even after a short fall. I remembered several accidents where my human crew had been severely injured loading torpedoes, two had died. The two men in the room were far bigger than any of my crew had ever been, but that train axle with extra wheels was probably much heavier than any of my torpedoes.

With a near-scream of effort, the man on his back managed to lift the weight another few inches to the sound of the standing man's encouragement. "You've got this rep, Wildcat. No problem. Push it. Push." Another almost-scream from the man laying down, and the weight moved up again, but started to sag back down.

Kongo and I stared at the spectacle of the man screaming. It made me a little uncomfortable. He was clearly in some pain. I knew about screams of pain. The only thing keeping the sound from being unbearable was the tones of defiance and effort that could also be heard. This man wasn't a victim, he was pushing himself to his limits and wasn't willing to give up.

Defiant stopped, silent, watching us watch the two men. Finally, after about fifteen more seconds of yelling and screaming in effort, with much encouragement from the standing man, the man called 'Wildcat' managed to straighten both arms under the axle. The standing man plucked the weight out of Wildcat's hands and set it down at his own feet.

Wildcat's arms fell to his sides and thumped against the floor like noodles when the weight was removed from them. He hooked his feet under a bar at the end of the bench and levered his torso into a sitting position without using his arms at all. "What was the count, Oak?

"Two hundred six good reps, eight that weren't full extension. That was a good set."

"My arms are going to fall off. I think that's the end for today. Give me a few minutes and I'll be able to spot for you."

Kongo started clapping, and both men looked up, looking between the two of us and Defiant.

I started clapping too, it had clearly been a victory for the man exercising. An excellent effort.

Defiant didn't clap, but he did speak. "You've come a long way in a month, Wildcat. Are you starting to peak yet?"

Wildcat shrugged, and frowned a little. "I'm having a hard time consistently breaking twenty-two hundred kilos, two hundred reps. I managed it three days ago, and today, but not yesterday."

"You're still young." Oak countered. "Biology does odd things to young bodies."

Wildcat and Oak were both staring at Kongo.

I hope they have the common sense and decency to stop staring at her soon, or she's going to take offense. A little staring is a compliment. A lot of staring is rude.

Defiant spoke again. "I need you off the floor for a little while guys. Go hit the showers - you stink. Wouldn't want to offend the young ladies."

I wouldn't mind if they stared at me, briefly, before they go. Even shipgirls like to be pretty.

"Yes, sir. Will you need us out of the facility, or just inactive for a while?" The one named Oak asked.

With a chuckle, Defiant responded. "After you don't stink, you can come back and watch the testing."

As they walked away towards the opposite side of the gymn from where we entered, they didn't look at me at all. I grumbled to myself and looked down at my chest when I thought Kongo and Defiant weren't looking. Then I realized that we were surrounded by mirrors.

I caught Kongo looking at me sideways in the mirror with a little smile and my face must have turned bright red.

Defiant was either being very polite, since we didn't know each other, or hadn't noticed. I had a feeling he was being polite.

After a delay of about a second, Defiant walked over to one of the largest machines in the facility, and beckoned for us to follow him. "This is the machine that we test high rated brutes on. I don't think you can break it." He looked back and forth between the two of us as he said it.

Oh, no.

Looking up and to my right, I saw Kongo's eyes narrow as she looked at the machine. Before she could get too far with what I knew was going through her head, I tapped her arm. "I know what you're thinking." I paused, briefly to make sure she processed it. "Remember, we're guests."

Kongo started to blush a little in embarrassment, and bowed slightly to Defiant. "See? Careful and responsible. Fubuki is the best destroyer escort!"

There was more back-and-forth looking from Defiant. "You two certainly do talk like people who've fought together."

We both nodded to him. I wasn't sure how many times we'd fought Abyssals as part of the same task group or squadron.

"Well, as for the testing machine here, I would appreciate it if you would stop putting force against the machine if you hear a siren. The siren indicates that the force applied reached its maximum safe rating." He paused. "There are no moving parts on the machine."

That didn't make any sense. "Wait. What? How do you-"

Defiant gently interrupted me. "Electronics, Fubuki. Strain gauges detect tiny deformations in the metal and calculate force. High rated brutes are too strong to allow them to use moving weights except in very controlled circumstances. If they drop something, it can kill or maim others weaker than them."

There were several more minutes of discussion about rules and how to use the machine correctly, and then Defiant asked a couple questions to make sure I actually remembered what I had been told.

I stepped onto the chrome and black machine, putting my feet on the foot-shaped marks, and my hands on the hand-shaped marks. Defiant started making adjustments on the machine to lower the front so my hands were at shoulder level, and then adjusted the position of the foot rests so I would be pushing with my body at around forty-five degrees, knees and elbows bent.

"OK, Fubuki, whenever you're ready, start pushing. Please start pushing slowly, and keep using more strength until you are pushing as hard as you can, or you hear the siren warning."

"I'm ready now, Defiant." I nodded to him, and started to push, carefully, slowly increasing the force I applied.

In the wall mirrors, I saw the two muscular humans emerge from where they had gone for their showers. They were both wearing what I'd learned were called 'jeans' and 't-shirts'.

They were also still wearing their masks. Masks were apparently very important to most 'cape' humans in this world.

Both men were staring at me, clearly curious, so I smiled at them.

The smaller one smiled at me, and the two of them talked to one another, but I couldn't hear what they said. They both laughed but kept watching me.

The machine spoke, like Defiant said it would. Every ten seconds, it would announce my estimated potential power output, averaged over the last ten seconds.

"One point three megawatts."

Both men stopped laughing and started staring.

That's not the kind of staring that I wanted.

I stopped looking at the men, and started pushing harder.

"Four point six megawatts."

I heard the voice of the one called Wildcat complain. "You've got to be kidding me. There's no way she's even five feet tall, and if she weighs more than seventy-five pounds, I'd be amazed."

Haha. More amazed than you think, I bet.

I ramped up a little more, pushing harder, being careful to keep both hands and both feet firmly planted so they didn't slip or jerk.

"Eleven point nine megawatts."

The machine seemed to be holding up fairly well.

"Seventeen point one megawatts."

There was a whistle from one of the two watching men. "Damn, will you look at that? Oak, she doesn't even seem to be pushing herself yet."

He had spoken loudly enough to hear easily, so I responded. "I'm not. I promised not to break the equipment, so I'm being careful."

Both men stared at me, wordlessly.

Defiant walked between the men and me, then turned away from me towards the men. "You can stay and watch, but please be quieter. You know better than to distract anyone in the gym." Then he turned to face me. "Please concentrate on the test, Fubuki. When you're done, you can talk?"

It was a justified rebuke. I nodded. Then I started carefully pushing harder and harder.

"Twenty-three point four megawatts."

I was pushing fairly hard, but there was plenty of power left.

"Thirty-one point nine megawatts."

It was much harder now, but I wasn't quite peaking.

"Thirty-six point five megawatts."

I was pushing as hard as I could, but my target was at least thirty-seven megawatts. I started adjusting my elbows, hips, shoulders, and knees, changing angles, trying to increase my power output with better leverage.

"Thirty-six point eight megawatts."

Thirty-seven megawatts, Fubuki. Anything less is unaccepable.

I forced myself to push a little harder.

The machine was taunting me. "Thirty-six point nine megawatts."

I lowered myself just a little more and tried to press even harder against the machine. I was sweating heavily, and my breath was coming in gasps. The room felt hot.

"Thirty-six point five megawatts."

What? No. More. Not less. Unacceptable.

I started taking huge, rapid breaths of air, and was dripping sweat. I pushed even harder.

"Thirty-two point one megawatts."

I heard Defiant's voice." You peaked, Fubuki, that was excellent. Slowly reduce force and rest. You can try again shortly, if you want."

Trying again means I failed the first time. No.

I shook my head. "Need thirty-seven megawatts."

Lowering myself a little more, I pushed again, quickly ramping up the force I was applying.

"Thirty-five point five megawatts."

Not enough. I forced myself to breathe faster, deeper, I needed more air.

"Thirty-six point three megawatts."

I put every bit of my concentration into the effort. I was going to beat the machine.

Suddenly, I felt the ground shake slightly through the machine and male voices sounded concerned, confused, worried. It sounded important, but I couldn't understand it. They sounded worried, so I stopped, to try to figure out what was happening.

Then the tunnel vision started.

I managed to stagger off the machine before lowering myself to my hands and knees. Once I managed that, without cratering the floor, I carefully lowered myself further to a prone position before rolling onto my back.

The tunnel vision got worse. I was breathing even faster.

What is happening? I don't understand?

I slowly turned my head. Trying to move my head quickly made the tunnel vision worse.

Is that Kongo, laying on the ground? Kongo? On the ground? And Defiant?

Was this all a dream?

The tunnel vision collapsed like a soap bubble and I fell into darkness.

**

An hour later

**

"No more indoor exercises for you two." Defiant was standing, looking down at me.

I shook my head, which proved it was possible for it to hurt even worse. Then I looked up at him. "Sorry, why am I laying on the ground?"

Suddenly, I realized that my legs and skirt were in a far from modest position, and quickly pushed my skirt down while pulling my legs together from where they had been splayed immodestly far apart.

How did I get into that position? I glared up at Defiant.

"I need an explanation for this, Defiant." I stared up at him. "One minute I'm doing the tests on your machine, and the next, I'm lying on the floor?"

I heard Kongo groan and then speak with anger in her voice. "Explanation. My head hurts. I remember collapsing and not being able to stay awake. I haven't had a headache like this since I took an armor-piercing bomb to my left ear."

Defiant looked nervously at Kongo, and quickly said "Oxygen deprivation."

"What?" Kongo and I asked at the same time.

"Your metabolism. As strange as your abilities are, your strength is driven by some sort of chemical metabolism, unlike most brute-type capes who receive power through their shards. I should have realized that when it became clear that human food was required to fuel you, but I was interested in other things."

My head felt awful. I pushed myself to my knees. "I'm still not getting it, Defiant. Use words I'll understand."

"Fubuki, you are a fifty-thousand horsepower metabolic engine."

"I knew that. And?"

"The training room is a closed room."

"I follow that too. And?"

Defiant shrugged. "You used up most of the oxygen in the room and knocked us all out. We humans recovered first as the air conditioning system replenished the air in the room, because we're less dense."

"Oh."
 
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Chapter 3
Any Port in a Storm

Kantai Collection x Worm

Chapter 3



"There she is again, Kongo." I said, quietly, without looking at the woman as she rode her bicycle along the edge of the wet sand on the beach.

"It's not like she's the only one who comes out to watch us work, Fubuki."

"She's watching us differently though. Haven't you noticed?"

Kongo stopped in the water next to today's job, a rusted out hulk that used to be a cargo container ship. "You asked me to not look at her directly, Fubuki, because I was scaring her away. My close-in sensors aren't as good as yours." She paused. "So, no, I haven't noticed."

"Oh, right. Sorry." I climbed up the side of the ship, smashing holes in the thin steel to create handholds. As soon as I left the water, my rig disappeared, and the woman on the beach immediately shifted her attention to Kongo, watching through a pair of binoculars.

"Whenever either of us leaves the water, and our rigs disappear, she immediately switches to watching the other, if they still have a rig active."

"So she's not watching us, she's watching our rigs. Even that's not unique. Do you remember what Defiant looked like when we showed him our rigs?"

I went into a brief spasm of laughter as I continued smashing handholds in the hull of the ancient wreck. "I remember, yes." I deepened my voice to imitate Defiant. "Oh. Oh. Oh. That's fascinating. I. Uh. Can I touch them?"

Both of us started laughing, remembering the moment.

After Defiant had spoken those words, Kongo, being Kongo, could not resist a little verbal jab. When she replied "What about Dragon? She might get upset." Defiant had realized what it sounded like and the lower half of his face that we could see went red in embarrassment.

The next thirty seconds of stuttered apologies had been hilarious before Kongo and I had relented and apologized to him. Then we let him poke and prod at our rigs to his heart's content for about two hours, before he sighed and walked off, grumbling something about not understanding the miniaturization process.

I finished climbing up the side of the ship and looked around. There were no obvious signs of habitation, but Dragon had given us little drones, so we could be sure. I pulled a half a dozen of the little drones from my backpack, and let them loose. They immediately rushed off, flying and crawling at high speed, looking for life signs on the ship. I followed behind them. Opening doors for them when they beeped at me to let me know it was necessary. In about thirty minutes, the drones and I cleared the entire wreck. While we were doing that, Kongo had been throwing heavy steel cables over the top of the ship, each cable making a resounding *klang* noise as it slapped against the rusted steel.

Returning to the side of the ship, I called down to Kongo. "All clear, Kongo. I'll rig up the cables now."

I have an idea, Kongo. I sent by radio, rather than by audio.

What idea? Came the response, a few seconds later.

When I come down off the side of the ship, I'm going to intentionally fall. You drop the cables and take me to shore. The closest point on the shore is about a hundred meters from the human watching us. I want to see if maybe she will approach us if she thinks I'm hurt.

You are going to intentionally fall? Why risk that, just for some human that watches our rigs?

I won't fall far, Kongo, just far enough to be convincing.

I don't like it. But I am a little bored. You fall no more than a few meters. That's an order, Fubuki.

Yes, Kongo. Remember, don't look at her as we approach shore. I'm going to pretend to be in distress.

Nothing like a little kabuki to make the time pass. This should be fun.

We couldn't deviate from our pattern too much, or the woman might figure out we were faking. So I spent a couple minutes connecting the cables to the anchor mounts and mooring cleats. We were hoping this ship would be structurally sound enough to pull it on shore so the dockworkers could cut it up. If it wasn't, we'd drag whatever part of it broke off to the cutting beach, and collect the rest, piece by piece.

When I finished I started climbing down the side of the ship, and when I was several meters from the water, I started talking to Kongo. "Everything seems solid, Kongo. I think this one will pull cleanly." I intentionally missed a handhold, and flailed, falling backwards.

Two-point-oh-eight million kilos of me hit the water hard. Harder than I imagined possible. I fell through the water and struck the side of the derelict ship a couple meters underneath the water. My left leg punched through the skin of the ship, and my port torpedo tube launcher was wrenched nearly off.

I gasped in pain, and my lungs filled partway with water. I could feel water pouring down into my funnel as well. As I struggled, trying to free myself, it felt like my port torpedo tube launcher was trapped in the hole my leg had created.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. I screamed at myself as I used my hands to tear the hole around my leg wider.

I wasn't floating.

I'd taken on too much water.

I started climbing up the side of the ship, underwater, rapidly smashing handholds into the metal and pulling myself up. Underwater, I had only a few seconds of energy left, at best.

One handhold at a time. Smash, pull, smash, pull.

I was barely conscious when I felt a hand grab my arm and drag me out of the water. I struggled as I felt myself being turned upside down. Water poured out of my funnel and my lungs. Then I coughed, and more water came out.

"You and I, we're having a talk later about this." Kongo promised me. "If I knew you intended this degree of incapacitation, I would not have agreed to it."

I could only cough. My radio was offline. I couldn't protest my innocence.

Kongo started dragging me to shore, and I wasn't able to help at all. My boilers had been flooded with seawater. My left leg had several lacerations on it, and my port torpedo launcher was basically scrap. There didn't seem to be any structural damage though.

It didn't take long for Kongo to drag my wheezing, coughing self to shore. We stopped in ankle-deep water and I fell to my hands and knees, still coughing, a little bit of water coming out with every cough.

Kongo started looking at my left leg. "Doesn't look like structural damage, Fubuki, but that's going to take some time to heal, and your port launcher is scrap."

There was a rattling sound and a splash of water, before a pair of black leather work boots appeared in my vision.

"You OK?" A female voice. Probably the woman I'd hoped to convince to come to us by faking an accident.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. I repeated to myself, just to make sure I knew.

I coughed, and still couldn't speak much more than a croak, but I managed a "No."

The torque that Dragon had given me to translate my spoken Japanese into English when it detected someone speaking to me in English seemed to be working despite the soaking it had been given.

The woman ran back to where she'd thrown down her bike. I heard zippers and buttons, and a lot of clinking and jingling. Then the woman returned, running.

Her lower body was covered with tool pouches, full of tools that were mostly new to me. A few of them looked like some of the odd tools Defiant had been using.

"You will tell me what you think you are doing, before you touch her." Kongo growled. "The first thing you will tell me is what you think you are seeing."

The woman's boots turned to face Kongo. "Smell it? Flooded boilers. Need to wash 'em out with fresh water, dry 'em and get them started again, or she'll rust. Port torpedo tubes damaged. Torpedo magazine housing cracked. Need to make sure there ain't any loose torpedoes or warheads rolling 'round in there."

"You can see those things?" Kongo asked in an incredulous tone. "Defiant could barely identify systems, never mind components."

The woman took two steps back. "You know Defiant?"

"We've been out in the bay, pulling derelict ships to shore for a month now. Of course we know Defiant. Do you think he could miss us?" Kongo's voice was firm.

The woman shook herself. "Defiant's good, but he don't do vehicles. Nobody's better at vehicles than me. Period. You two are vehicle/organic crossovers. My power tells me what's wrong." She paused. "I can get her running right. I been making tools. I been watching you."

"Fubuki, is your torpedo magazine breached?" Kongo asked, suddenly.

I nodded and choked out a "Yes."

"Start working, Tool Girl." Then, in a very loud voice, just short of painful, Kongo started speaking to the people who had gathered. "Everyone except Tool Girl here needs to get away. Now. Clear the area. Someone call the police and fire department. There might be an explosion, and it could be a big one."

Thanks, Kongo, I needed that comforting thought.

The woman fell to her knees in the surf, next to my left side, and started poking at my damaged torpedo launcher with an odd tool that had a flexible tip that generated light. It connected by a wire to her goggles. "Wrench."

"What?" Kongo paused.

"Call me Wrench."

I coughed again, and Wrench gasped. "Don't. You trying to restart your boilers. Don't. You flooding out with fuel. Can smell it." She paused. "Shit. There a loose torpedo in there. I need to put it on a storage cradle. You can't move. None. Understand?"

I nodded, shut down my main fuel lines, and stopped trying to restart the boilers. All I had left for power were a couple small diesel generators, which basically would only let me communicate.

I glared at the shallow surf, furious with myself. Being on my hands and knees, at the mercy of an unknown human woman who might or might not have any idea what she's doing poking around in my port side torpedo magazine was not part of the plan.

After several minutes, Wrench sagged, breathed out a loud breath and pulled two tools out of my port torpedo magazine. "Torp's on an undamaged rack now. Need to get you rinsed out with fresh water, and start boilers."

I verified that the loose torpedo had been stowed. "Thank you, Wrench."

"Don't say that yet, you won't like what's comin' next." She turned to Kongo. "Need fresh water. Enough to re-flood her boilers. Can you get some?"

There was a hesitation of several seconds before Kongo responded. "Is the torpedo stowed, Fubuki?"

"Yes, Kongo."

"Then, yes. I will be back shortly with fresh water." I heard Kongo start to run.

About two minutes later, Kongo returned, with a large white hose. "The firemen said they had fresh water in their tanker, so here's the fresh water."

"Can't control a fire hose, not strong enough." Wrench complained.

"You want to spray Fubuki's boilers out with fresh water, right?" Kongo asked.

"Exactly."

"I can do both. Stand back."

What?

Wrench stepped back several feet.

I felt Kongo grab my right ankle, and realized what was about to happen.

Oh, come on.

"Kongo, isn't there a better way to do this?" I begged.

In a flat, not-quite-angry voice, Kongo responded. "I'm not sure. But it should work, and I'm going to enjoy this after the worry you just put me through." She paused, and did a bad imitation of my voice. "I won't fall far, Kongo, just far enough to be convincing." She lifted me into the air. "I thought you knew what you were doing. I thought it might be funny. You didn't, and it wasn't."

By the time she had finished saying that, I was hoisted into the air by my right ankle. I was facing away from Kongo, looking at Wrench, upside-down.

"You faked all that, to trick me? Broke torpedo tubes?" Wrench was not looking very happy.

I coughed, and, since I was fully upside down again, more seawater came out. After the seawater was gone, I tried to explain. "It ended up being less faked than I planned." I paused. "I could tell that you were watching our rigs more than watching us. I wanted to know why."

Her face grew hard. "I see. I was curious, and 'cause of that, you almost killed yourself."

Kongo spoke. "Please wave to the firemen, Wrench. I asked them to turn on the water when we wave to them."

Wrench turned and waved.

I spent the next several minutes hanging upside down by one ankle with a fire hose spraying out my boilers through my funnel.

Kongo took far longer than was necessary, I'm certain. I couldn't struggle with my boilers all shut down. Just complain. None of my complaints were dignified with a response.

Wrench just stared at me, clearly upset, the entire time.

After my insides were thoroughly cleaned out, Kongo spoke again. "Wrench, wave at the firemen again, please."

Wrench waved. The water stopped, and Kongo lowered me into the surf, and then helped me get into a stable kneeling position.

Wrench approached with a small bottle of something and sprayed it into my funnel. It smelled almost like wood alcohol. "Start preheaters. Feed fuel. Ignite."

"What did you just spray into my boilers?"

Wrench spoke tersely, "Starter fluid. Not a lot. Do it."

I started the preheaters and then, a few seconds later, started feeding fuel. Ignition was rapid. I took a deep breath as energy flooded my body, and I was able to move again.

"Cycle port torps into main storage an' leave 'em there till port launcher heals. You can work." Wrench turned and walked away, stiff-legged, without saying anything else.

I carefully stood, and stared at her back as she walked away. "Thank you, Wrench."

I can't exactly consider her to be rude, considering how we had planned to trick her.

Wrench had been taking off her tool pouches and belts and rapidly, carefully stowing them on the saddlebags to either side of her bicycle's rear tire. She paused, and replied, emotionlessly. "Welcome. My bedside manner ain't great. Patients normally don't talk back to me."

To my right, and slightly behind me, Kongo spoke in a serious tone. "You're welcome to watch us any time, Wrench. I owe you a favor for saving this one from her own idea." Kongo put her hand on my shoulder and pulled me around, roughly, so I was facing her. "Fubuki owes you a favor, and an apology. Perhaps even her existence. Loose munitions are no joke." Kongo's eyes bored into mine.

Kongo originally sank partly due to a munitions explosion. I'm not going to enjoy the next talk we have in private.

I turned away from Kongo, towards Wrench, and went to my knees, leaning forward until my forehead touched the sand before I spoke. "Yes, Wrench. I owe you a great debt. I apologize for my plan to trick you into coming to us. I thank you for what you did to help me after my foolish plan fell apart. I am in your debt, and if you need help with something, you only need ask. If I can help, I will."

After about three seconds of silence, Wrench responded, with a little anger in her voice. "Stand up, dammit. I ain't Lung. I don't do control freak crap and didn't ask for anything." She paused, and closed her eyes for a second before continuing with her voice calmed down a bit. "Apology accepted. I get you being curious. I was spyin' on you."

As I began to stand, I heard Wrench pushing her bike towards the road.

Kongo broke the silence, speaking slowly. "You would make a good friend, I think, Wrench."

Wrench and I both turned to stare at Kongo, who shrugged. "A friend is honest, and forgives our imperfections."

After she stared at Kongo for a moment, Wrench turned away and pushed her bike towards the road, much faster than before, almost running through the loose sand. "You're wrong. I let all my friends die." The last few words were almost lost in sobs. When the bike was finally on the road, she pushed it between some parked emergency vehicles and was gone.

Kongo and I could only stare as she left us behind.

While we were trying to make sense of what Wrench had said, a small blonde-haired woman wearing a mask and a black and lavender suit approached us from the road. She was surrounded by half a dozen large, muscular men who were very carefully watching around her like escorts. Bodyguards. "I see you've met Wrench." She looked at me without speaking for about half a second. "Good. You aren't going to blow up any longer."

I looked up at her and raised my right eyebrow. Even though she was small, she was taller than me.

After smiling, the woman waved her hands in the air, and yelled out. "OK everyone, show's over, you can go home. Nobody's blowing up today."

As the crowd behind the police lines started to disperse, Kongo spoke. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"I'm Tattletale, and I want to talk."

"Tattletale. Undersiders. Defiant told us not to trust you, but that you probably wouldn't do anything to bother us." As I finished, I crossed my arms.

"Defiant is a smart man." She paused. "When it comes to machines. Usually when he says something smart about people, he's parroting Dragon." Tattletale made a throwing-away gesture with one hand. "I'm not here to talk about Defiant. The reason I came here is because Wrench came here."

Kongo looked at me with a puzzled expression, and I shrugged. "I don't follow."

She sat down on the sand. "Sit. I need to tell you about Wrench. It's not a pretty story."

**

About thirty minutes later.

**

I looked at Tattletale and started ticking off what she had told me, one finger at a time. "So, the Slaughterhouse 9, a vastly superior force, attacked the Merchants. Wrench, who used to be Squealer, had a superior who was insane and would not listen to reason, would not retreat. She was emotionally attached to her superior, and in the end, still chose to flee certain death rather than join him in a hopeless battle over something that really didn't matter. Now she blames herself for his death, and the deaths of all the Merchants, who were, in reality, a pretty terrible 'family' but were the only family she ever knew."

"That about sums it up, Fubuki."

When Kongo and I looked at each other, Tattletale stood. "Before today, Wrench hadn't said a single word to anyone in nearly three years. If she communicates, it's written. I have her watched, and make sure to set up a soup kitchen near wherever she is squatting. If she figures out that I'm helping her, she moves, so I can't help her too much or she might leave the city. She hasn't created anything for herself but tools; that's a normal bike she rides. All she does is fix vehicles. Randomly, without any special features. If you haven't figured it out yet, tinkers generally can't make anything that isn't tricked out with all sorts of special features. Wrench is tortured, and I had hopes that she might approach you, since she was so fascinated that she broke her normal habits to come watch you."

"And I fouled the props." I sighed.

Kongo muttered a curse and then said "Today is really beginning to feel like kabuki."

Awful kabuki.

"Yup." Tattletale nodded. Then she shrugged. "It's not hopeless though. You cracked the shell. She talked to someone. That's as good a place as any to start."

"You wouldn't have come here and spoken to us just to tell us that." Kongo said, softly, but firmly.

Tattletale smirked. "Am I that transparent, Kongo?"

"I heard a lot of command decisions and deliberations on my decks, in my time, Tattletale. I don't think telling us Wrench's story was the reason you came to talk to us. That's background for the reason. Are you ready to tell us what you want?"

Tattletale smiled. "How refreshing." She bowed to us slightly. "I have ears in many places, and I overheard that in the dimension that you came from, none of your old crews were still alive by the time you incarnated in your current form, because of your enemies there, the Abyssals."

I only told Dragon that.

Tattletale sighed. "Fine. Yes. Dragon and I talk. We talk quite a bit, actually." She raised her right hand. "Between Dragon, Dinah, and a few other people, we found out that, even after Scion went bonkers, there are quite a few of your old crew from this dimension, and other dimensions, who are still alive."

My crew? Alive?

I narrowed my eyes and stared at Tattletale. "Are they really our crew, or crews from the ships with our names, from these other dimensions?"

"My crew?" Kongo whispered. "Some of them are alive here?"

"Your memories seem to be extremely precise about your old crew and your old history, according to Dragon. We'll leave it up to you two to decide if you want to meet the men. If you do, we will arrange for transport. We've collected every bit of information we can on all the living crew from this dimension. If they match, we can start spreading the search to other dimensions."

"Why?" I asked.

Tattletale smiled. "What you are doing in and around the bay is worth rewarding. But, like Kongo said, there's something else that I'd like to talk to you about."

**

Two weeks later

**

Why keep coming out here to watch?

There were about thirty old Japanese men watching Kongo and Fubuki today. Really old men. They were cheering as the two shipgirls performed maneuvers and fired their smaller weapons at drones over the bay, showing remarkable marksmanship. Kongo had gone out to the breakwater earlier and fired her main guns out over the ocean to where a barge had been anchored. The old men had cheered like they were watching football when one of them claimed Kongo made seventeen hits in four volleys at ten kilometers with plunging fire. Fubuki's ability to move on the water was astounding, Speedboats were faster, but speedboats didn't mass nearly two point one million kilograms.

All that, using vacuum tube electronics with less CPU power than my watch. The integration of the ship equipment into a humaniform biomechanical interface is so brilliant. I remember making-

Stop lyin' to yourself, Sherrell, you never made anything worth a damn. All of your vehicles were drug-addled crap. If you'd been worth a shit, you could have made drones and vehicles that could have-

I heard footsteps on the sand behind me, and turned.

Another really old Japanese guy. They're everywhere today.

"Excuse me, young lady. You seem to have found a good spot. Would you mind if I share it and watch the show?"

I looked at him. Stooped, and wiry, maybe a little over five feet tall. He had a cane in one hand, and a foldable chair in the other. He had stopped walking when I turned to face him, and was slightly wobbly on his feet. Definitely not a threat.

I shook my head, and turned away from him and lifted my binoculars to watch the shipgirls. They were now doing a live towing job of yet another ship to the breaking beach where the work crews would scrap them. There weren't many rusted-out ships left in the bay now. Some other capes had been showing up every now and then to help break down the ships that the shipgirls dragged to shore for recycling.

I could build a-

No. How many times do I have to say no?

How many times have I had to say no, since I helped that shipgirl?

I tried to bury myself in my power's data, watching the shipgirls. Their base technology was so incredibly crude, but the miniaturization and organic interface made them beautiful anyway. My power was flooding me with ideas on how to modify and improve their rigs. I could give them so much. They seemed like-

They seem like the sort of heroes that might have saved my family, when I couldn't.

The old man smoothly unfolded his chair, in a practiced motion. A moment later, he carefully checked that the seat was properly unfolded and seated himself.

My power really wasn't interested in the chair, but it told me about the characteristics of the materials and construction. The lacquered wood was nearly as old as the man, the leather was over twenty years old, but oiled regularly. There was a flood of things popping into my brain that I could use the wood and leather for. I strangled the flood.

"Twenty-one November, 1944. At oh-two-forty-six hours, Imperial Japanese Navy Battleship Kongo was hit on the port side by two torpedoes."

Oh, come on. Don't you have grandkids you can torture with bullshit stories?

I cut my eyes at him, but he wasn't looking at me, he was watching the shipgirls with a small pair of binoculars.

"A few dozen of my crewmates died instantly to the torpedoes."

The old man was silent for several seconds.

"I was fortunate enough to have been on the starboard side of the ship. Kongo was a tough lady. Even after the two torpedoes, she was still able to make sixteen knots, but that eventually slowed to eleven knots. We were slowing down the rest of the ships too much, and damage control couldn't stop the leaks. We separated from the rest of the task group and were ordered to head to port for repairs." He breathed out a sad sigh. "We never made it. There were fourteen hundred men on Kongo when one of the forward magazines blew. Two hundred of us made it into the water alive. I lost twelve hundred people I had been trusting with my life for months, some of them for years."

The old man had my undivided attention now. I knew them ghosts.

"When the forward magazine blew, I had just gone down a hatch to service the stern pumps with a few other men." The old man set his little binoculars in his lap, carefully, still looking out towards the bay.

"The hatch above me was ripped off its hinges. The overpressure deafened me and knocked me off the ladder, but, fortunately, I didn't have far to fall. It only took me a few seconds to stand, but even before I was able to stand again, I could feel Kongo shifting in the water, settling forward, lifting higher in the stern. Quickly. I could feel it in my stomach. I could feel and hear Kongo's structure tearing itself apart, the vibrations and sounds transmitted through the skeleton of the ship. Popping, straining, tearing. Kongo was dying."

"What'd you do?" I heard myself ask, in a whisper.

"I saved myself." His head fell forward slightly, and he looked sideways, locking eyes with me. "And then I hated myself."

Oh, bullshit!

I turned away from Tattletale's mindfucker and started to stand.

A calm voice cut through my cynicism. "Do you know how to commit harakiri? You might know it as seppaku." The man was unbuttoning his shirt.

I wanted to just walk away, but something about the old man wouldn't let me leave. He had a captivating intensity that I couldn't ignore.

Is he a master? I wouldn't put it past Tattletale.

He removed his shirt, and folded it across his lap, showing a torso that was little more than wiry meat on a skeleton.

"You take a tanto blade, stab it into your stomach, here." He leaned back slightly in the chair, and, with a jerk of his hand that made me jump, he jabbed the left side of his stomach with his right index finger.

"Then you cut to the right, across your stomach." This time the index finger moved slowly, dragging his finger along many long, narrow scars.

"If you don't have an assistant with a sword, to remove your head after you cut your stomach, you cut your throat." His right index finger slowly traced across his neck where there were a series of small scars.

He turned his head to me; his eyes slammed into mine as he whispered, just loud enough to hear. "I practiced. Many times. Just to make sure I would do it right, if I needed to."

"Why didn't you-" I couldn't finish the sentence.

After a moment, the man looked away from my eyes, to where Kongo and Fubuki were slowly dragging the derelict ship with cables. "Because I knew that it wasn't my fault. Kongo was sinking. I saw dozens of men run into the darkness, securing hatches and looking for wounded. But I knew Kongo could not be saved. I knew that if I stayed, I would die. When a ship sinks, it creates a massive vortex that will beat you to death against the ship if you aren't far enough away. If you are inside a big ship when it sinks, you will never push through the incoming water to escape."

"I-"

The old man did not let me finish. "You know I was sent here to speak to you. I do not deny it. I was not asked to deny it. When we were told about what happened to you, I demanded to be allowed to speak with you. I was not the only one. I am, however, the only one who could walk far enough to come to you, across loose sand, unaided." He chuckled, briefly, dryly.

As his chuckle faded away, the old man slowly reached into the little bag on the back of his chair that his binoculars had come out of. With obvious care, he drew out a slightly curved oblate cylinder of wood about eight inches long, and two inches in it's widest diameter. He held it in both hands, staring at it for several seconds, and then, suddenly, tossed it to me. I caught it reflexively.

"That, young lady, is a tanto." His eyes bored into mine, and, again, I could not look away. "We were told enough of your history to know that you have every right to consider using it. A couple brief pains in the stomach and neck will end the daily suffering, if that is what you wish." He tilted his head forward slightly towards the cylinder in my hands. "I carried that blade everywhere for ten years, and it has been on display in my home, easily accessible, for the last sixty years." He started putting his shirt back on. "I don't need it anymore. I give it to you."

I collapsed back onto my butt and sat, staring at the tanto. The hilt and sheath were a light yellow lacquered wood, with black Japanese script and images of trees and rocks next to houses.

It's so beautiful.

I pulled the blade out and stared at it. My power recognized the quality of the metal and manufacture. The blade was nearly perfect and sharp enough that my power had no desire to use it as anything other than a blade.

I stared at the steel, the patterns in the metal reflecting sunlight as I twisted it slowly in front of my eyes. "So close to perfect."

The old man spoke slowly. "When I bought that blade, I spent a month's wages. If I was going to kill myself, I wasn't going to do it with a kitchen knife."

I returned to staring at the blade as it flashed in the sun. After a while, I'm not sure how long, I heard footsteps on sand, and looked up.

While I had been entranced with the blade, the old man had finished putting his shirt back on, stored his binoculars in the chair-back bag, and folded up the chair. He was standing in front of me, a little bit wobbly, carrying the chair in one hand and bracing himself on his cane with the other. A stick man with powerful eyes. "I am going back to join the others. You are welcome to join us. Or not. All of us know your story. All of us lived your story. A lot of our fellow crewmates chose the tanto. All of us will understand, whichever you choose."

I said nothing. When I looked back down at the knife, the tanto, he said nothing. I heard him walk away, down the beach towards the other old Japanese men.

After about five seconds, I stood, carefully stowed the tanto in my bike's saddlebags, and pushed my bike along the beach towards the other survivors.
 
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I do not know how often this might be updated. Recently, ideas have been grabbing me and throwing me at the keyboard. It was originally meant to be a one-off. Well, it's a three-off now, and I have a feeling that I'm going to be writing at least a bit more. It's completely unscripted as a long form fiction. Each snippet is mostly separate from the other, but I try to keep some continuity between snips.
 
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Yay! This is a thread now! I hope to see more of it; I may not watch Kancolle, but I can already tell that this is a cute premise. Well, as cute as Post-Golden Morning can be, anyway. ^_^
 
I'm not particularly familliar with Kancolle, but the Sea Queens stuff over on SB got me aware of "shipgirls" in general, so this still interests me.
 
I'm not particularly familliar with Kancolle, but this still interests me.

I almost always write crossovers with actual characters crossing over, rather than simply powers. I like mix-and-match worldviews and personalities. If I don't think I can make the collision of personalities and preconceptions interesting, I don't write it :)

When someone who doesn't know both universes well says they like a crossover I wrote, then I'm clearly doing something right.

Thanks!
 
Man, that throwaway comment by Wrench when she muses that the Shipgirls' electronics are less advanced than a modern day watch helps it sink in just how quickly technology has advanced in 70 years.
 
Just so long as we dont get too much POI.



Heaven help them if Yuudachi shows up.


I've actually given some thought to perhaps sending Wrench (Squealer) to the Kancolle universe if this goes on long enough. There's at least one thing I want her to do first though. Hopefully the muse will give me the necessary inspiration.
 
I've been poking at Chapter 3, adjusting Wrench's quotes, trying to make her a bit rougher and more crude in her speech.
 
I thought Scion wiped Brockton Bay off the map with his golden discouragement beams. How are buildings still standing?
 
The repair. It was panicky. Then I realized what was acutally happeninng from and outside veiw then it shitflinging hilarious.
 
I thought Scion wiped Brockton Bay off the map with his golden discouragement beams. How are buildings still standing?

Brockton Bay is a trans-dimensional portal location. It would have been rebuilt to at least some degree. Kongo and Fubuki don't think the same thing you and I think when they see 'tall' buildings like I mentioned in the first chapter.
 
So is the story just going to be these two or will Abyssals start popping up as well?

I'm not entirely sure yet. I'm toying with the idea of the Abyssals coming through. If they were to force open a portal to the Wormverse, it would allow for a conflict-leading-to-resolution and a potential way home for Kongo and Fubuki.
 
I'm not entirely sure yet. I'm toying with the idea of the Abyssals coming through. If they were to force open a portal to the Wormverse, it would allow for a conflict-leading-to-resolution and a potential way home for Kongo and Fubuki.
One hopes for the Abyssals's sake that Ziz doesn't decided that they are stomping on her turf ... because there are 3 to 4 functional Endbringers left, and I don't think even the Abyssals deserve that kind of mayhem.
 
One hopes for the Abyssals's sake that Ziz doesn't decided that they are stomping on her turf ... because there are 3 to 4 functional Endbringers left, and I don't think even the Abyssals deserve that kind of mayhem.

Heh. Endbringers would be a bit overkill to take down Abyssals, yes.
 
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