Christmas Special time! Non-canon and written on very little sleep. Let's see how/if it holds up!
- - -
Jersey scowled as her bow smashed though a freezing arctic wave. It was an absolutely miserable night to be at sea. The scattered clouds were just enough to block any potentially pleasing view of the stars without providing even a shred of warmth. What an utter, unmitigatedly horrible way to spend Christmas day.
The battleship's scowl deepened as ice-cold spray splashed over her face and slicked her hair back against her freezing skull. Actually, she'd crossed the International Date Line a few hours ago, which meant she was technically steaming along on Christmas eve.
As if that was some-fucking-how better. She was still cold and miserable. Her stomach was grumbling at the distinct lack of fuel oil in her bunkers. Every time she hit a wave, the end of her sopping-wet ponytail slapped against her butt with a wet squelch. Her shorts were almost soaked though, and she just knew Crowning and Was were enjoying a warm dinner right about now.
Gah. So much for the Christmas Spirit.
"Hey, Jersey?" Ryuujou waved to the battleship, but her gaze was twisted in frustration as she fiddled with one of the… little… folded-paper thingies that somehow became a Zero when she did her magic shit.
"Yeah," said the battleship as she lazily pulled abreast of the little carrier. At least it was a distraction from being utterly bored and miserable. "What's up?"
"I had a, uh…" Ryuujou pulled at the collar of her outfit, "My elevator's jammed, I can't spot anything."
Jersey's scowl deepened to a full-out frown. "That so…" she growled. She folded her arms across her chest, grumbling under her breath at whatever asshole god ruled this little spec of ocean. "Please tell me you can fix it."
"I think so," said Ryuujou, hunching lower over scroll with her brows knitted in concentration. "But until I do, I can't launch planes, just recover them."
"The CAP's almost out of gas, isn't it?" said Jersey. It might have been phrased a question, but given the quality of her day thus far, the battleship was all but certain of the answer.
"Yeah," said Ryuujou, "Sorry, boss."
Jersey scowled and wiped her face with the least-damp part of her scarf. "'s not your fault," she said, peeling away to launch her own scout plane. It wasn't nearly as good as a Zero, or even a Val. But an extra pair of eyes in the sky would do wonders in spotting Abyssal submarines.
"Keep an eye out for santa for me!"
The battleship cracked a tiny grin. She was a battleship, the biggest, most mature class of warship ever put to sea, with the arguable exception of the big fleet carriers. She knew full well how utterly impossible it was for a single north-pole dwelling elf to deliver presents to every home in the world in a single day. Just the storage alone would be unimaginably vast. The science behind it just didn't make sense.
It didn't change the fact that unexplained presents had been showing up every Christmas since the Abyssals and Kanmusu emerged. Jersey didn't think she could complain about the implausibility, especially since she was a battleship who was also a pretty girl.
"Uh…" Fubuki pulled up alongside, her little ponytail all but encrusted in salt, "Jersey-Sempai?"
"Yo."
"I- I think I saw something," said the little destroyer, waving off to the far norther horizon, "Just inside radar range."
Jersey squinted, focusing her radars along the vector Fubuki was indicating. There was… definitely something there. A few somethings maybe, it looked like a capital ship escorted by a few contacts too indistinct to hold onto for long. "Yeah, I see it too."
Fubuki gulped, but she held her gun at the ready and set her face at a determined slant.
"Don't think they see us," said Jersey, closing her eyes to 'see' though her floatplane's observers. "Taking a closer look. Let's see if we can get the drop on them."
"Hai, Jersey-Sempai."
The lone kingfisher climbed high into the evening sky, its little engine fading into the soft rush of the wind as it broke off towards the distant radar contact. After a scant twenty-minutes in the air, the Abyssal taskforce was finally in view.
Only it wasn't Abyssal at all. Abyssals reeked of hatred, their twisted forms were malice personified. Ugly, twisted mockeries of once-proud ships.
But not this… this little taskforce radiated life and.. joy even.
A single carrier—a Yorktown. Jersey knew that silhouette by heart—formed the center of the formation. Eight—no, nine—destroyers were arrayed in a loose horseshoe around the carrier. And-
Jersey blinked.
And not only was the carrier wearing red-white-and-green dazzle camo, the lead destroyer was shining a brilliant crimson spotlight into the midnight gloom.
Jersey laughed, her mouth twisting up into a smile even she couldn't control.
"Jersey-sempai?" Fubuki clutched her turret even tighter, "wh-what is it?"
"'s nothing, kiddo," said Jersey between bouts of laughter. "Relax," she waved the destroyer down.
Turns out she was wrong. It was a perfect day to be at sea.