- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
Yeah, if Gale has to endure both the physical trials of pregnancy and the sheer circus that the other shipgirls will create once they find out about it, she should at least get to do the fun parts first.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
So, Gale probably isn't pregnant. But she's getting a promotion to deal with shenanigans and for being freaking amazing and absolutely indispensable. I say it's about time! Congrats, Gale. You more than earned it. :3
Also, Williams is a good man and a great bro.
Well done, sir!
Also, Williams is a good man and a great bro.
Well done, sir!
I will take notes and say no more!
Richardson: *raises an eyebrow* Why buy a digital copy when I have the genuine article right here?
Omake: A Certain Lady
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
* * * * *
Hiei hummed a happy tune as she finished pouring out a piping hot cup of water. It wasn't the most elegant or steady of displays, but she was in far too good a mood to care.
The reason for her chipper self could be attributed to two things.
The first was the fact she had two fully functional arms again. Sure, the newly repaired appendage was still plenty sore. But she was officially seaworthy again. It would just take some proper stretching and a nice regime of target practice to get her battery up to par again.
The second, and vastly more important reason, was that she was having a tea party with her dear elder sister. As she felt was appropriate, she had pulled out all the stops.
She'd broken out the nice tablecloth and its matching accessories. Her special silverware and tea set sat on the table in an orderly and pleasing arrangement. The centerpiece was shared between a steaming pot of water under a cozy that sported a pleasant plaid pattern and a tiered cake stand filled to the brim with all manner of fresh snacks. Near the two sat an arrangement of tins containing different teas just waiting for their chance.
Having the tea already steeping simply wouldn't do. Everyone took theirs a little different and her sisters were no exception. She liked hers a bit stronger, too strong for Haruna, and Kirishima preferred hers a little more textbook. And Kongou? Well, she tended to let hers steep more or less depending on her mood and proximity to Admiral Goto.
And that wasn't even getting into the choice of tea!
Their chances to sit together had been slim to none, but Hiei memorized everything to the letter when the did. She refused to let anything slip by and wonder about maybes or what-ifs should the worst come to pass.
Now considering Admiral Goto was still in Yokosuka and Kongou was getting ready to set sail for battle, she had been almost certain it would be jasmine with a long steep. Probably a drip or two of honey and not a grain of sugar.
"Mhmhm~" Kongou giggled playfully as she stirred in one lump of sugar to her honey bereft earl grey. "You guessed the time to steep, but not the time of day."
"One out of... many isn't too bad?" countered Hiei weakly, albeit with her smile still firmly in place. She reached out and plucked a tin of breakfast tea from amongst the others as her choice of drink. It wasn't exactly breakfast time in the lest. However she was a battleship and, to quote a rather boisterous American, she did what she wanted.
Being a Kongou merely added to it.
"I'm just happy finally I get to have some time with my biggest little sister." Kongou took a lady-like sip of her drink and let out a content sigh. Her normally alert teitoku seeking radar was relaxed and bobbing in tune with her movements. "I'm looking forward to when Haruna and Kirishima can join us, but until then I have you all to myself."
"Maybe we can convince Haruna to bring Tiger along with her some day." Hiei hadn't heard much from Haruna unfortunately. But what little she had usually involved their British cousin. It'd be nice to meet her some day. The more the merrier!
"Oh, that would be fun! And Miss Amy as well."
"I'm sure she'd like to meet everyone."
"Dess!"
The two sisters each took a sip of their steaming teas before deciding to add a little bit of snack to their meal. Kongou took a warm scone and adorned it with a generous helping of blueberry preserves while Hiei helped herself a slice of cake.
Kongou raised an eyebrow when Hiei's plate clattered as she served herself.
"Hiei, how's your arm?"
She blinked before setting down the plate with a bit more care than was probably needed. Better safe than worry.
"It's still a bit sore, but it won't be much longer before I can get back into the fight." She laughed and tried to put her sister at ease. Few ships could be said to love as much as a Kongou did. And the name-ship was above all others without question in her eyes. "Don't you worry, oneesama. They got a lucky shot in and I had a lot of help recovering."
"I know, but I'm your sister. And I'm going to be worried no matter what you say." Kongou stood from her seat and took the few steps needed to place herself directly behind Hiei. With a flourish, she wrapped her arms around the seated warship and hugged her tightly. "So you get to put up with me being a worrywart about absolutely everything. It doesn't matter what it is. I want the absolute best for my precious imoutos."
Hiei could only lean into the embrace and close her eyes.
She was confident in her prowess in a great many things. Her drive and skill both on the battlefield and off were tremendous. Yet she would always be weak to the comforting presence of her sister. Maybe it was a ship thing. Or a sister ship thing. She wasn't really sure.
But she didn't really care.
"Now!" declared Kongou with a grin. "No more grim talk. I want to gossip and goof off and relax, dess!"
Before Hiei could open her mouth to reply, Kongou was already back in her seat with a bright-eyed expression and mirth on her lips.
Gossip, and fun, and all that silly jazz? Oh, she could do that. One didn't share a home with Mutsu and not pick up on a few things. Part of her was dreading the day Arizona decided she would get in on the fun. At least Jintsuu didn't seem too driven towards it.
"Then tell me, oneesama," began Hiei as she did her best to imitate the half-lidded gaze Mutsu tended to use when she was feeling in a particularly teasing mood. "When am I going to be an aunt~?"
Had Kongou been taking a drink of anything at the moment, it was almost guaranteed to have been used to create a spit-take suitable for legend.
"Where did you hear that!?"
"A little ship told me." Specifically Jintsuu with her access to the Light Cruiser Information Network. Jintsuu only allowed her a very, very limited amount of direct access. And only when it was either an emergency or it pertained to her sisters. One did not trifle in the affairs of or question the boons granted by the shipgirl equivalent of an NCO. Not without paying the penalty.
"Ooooh. It had better not have been Ashigara." Kongou pouted and crossed her arms as Hiei laughed. "And next time I'm going to use a ribbon that doesn't chafe so much."
"You did not!" exclaimed Hiei in an intentionally over the top manner.
"Goto was trying to be professional, but I know his resolve was cracking. One more push and..." She trailed off as her imagination began to run wild. Occasionally a giggle or a syrupy 'Goto~' would escape her lips. And then, like a flash, it was gone. "But we have a war to win. And then I'm going to make sure my beloved teitoku knows just how much I've been holding back."
"That's the first time I've ever heard you use his name like that." Hiei might have been lacking in contact, but she couldn't rightly recall ever hearing Kongou refer to Admiral Goto so familiarly. Even in comfortable settings like this there had always been some attachment of rank.
"Really? Hm, I suppose so." Kongou didn't seem too surprised at the realization. At least not beyond acknowledging it.
"You might win the bet yet." Hiei took a measure bite of the tasty cake. It was one of her more trusted recipes and she had not been about to attempt an experiment given what was soon approaching.
"You do not have faith in your oneesama to be the first to be a deliriously happy wife and mother with at least one in the slipway?" The exaggeration was so intentional that both women couldn't help but crack up.
"Weeeel..."
"Oh, how tragic this is. That my own sister does not believe in the power of BURNING LOVE! What have I done to warrant such a relation? How have I failed!?"
Hiei nearly fell from her chair laughing as Kongou continued her dessperate tirade of sorrow and indignation. Her sides hurt so much from laughing that she was fairly certain she was about to burst a bulkhead or crack her belt.
"You must believe, oh imouto! That love and spirit will see you through to victory!"
"Y-You're ha-hahha! Having too mu-much fun!" gasped the second Kongou as she tried to crawl back into her seat.
"Dess~!"
"But!"
"Is there more that my dear little sister knows that I do not?" questioned Kongou with a leering and plainly amused gaze. She was having too much fun indeed.
"Technically, I won the bet."
"What!?" Kongou recoiled as if struck by a full broadside, her arms snapping into a defensive position.
"I, Battleship Hiei of the Kongou-Class of fast battleships, am a mother!" Hiei struggled to retain her imperious persona, but Kongou's showy reactions of desspair and defeat were making it ludicrously difficult. Were it any other member of her household, they would have cracked in moments. Jintsuu would have broken down into a case of severe giggles before anyone else.
"This cannot be! It must be a lie!" cried Kongou as she clutched her head. With a dramatic flourish, she whirled about and fell to the floor. "By my own sister. How could I have been defeated so? Such tragedy. Such betrayal. It's desspicable!"
They paused to take a sip of their respective teas.
"You were defeated before the battle began, dear sister." Hiei stood from her chair and went to kneel before the fallen Kongou. With the gentle hand of an emperor, she stroked Kongou's cheek. "You never had any hope of being first."
"That's not true. That's impossible!"
"Search your feelings, you know it to be true!"
"Nooooo~!"
There was a pregnant pause.
"Jintsuu has been a terrible influence on you."
"I'm not an American, so I can't plead the fifth. But I will anyways."
"Oh, what has Admiral Richardson done to my dear sister? She's thinking like a Yankee now." Kongou giggled as she stood to her feet and was promptly hugged by a grinning Hiei.
"This, coming from a Japanese ship who smells of scones, black tea, and colonialism?"
"Dess."
Hiei guided Kongou back to her seat and promptly stuffed a scone into her sister's mouth. Kongou seemed happy regardless as she chewed on the pastry.
"You know... If you don't mind being third or fourth in line to win the bet, would you mind helping me with something?" Hiei polished off her cup while she waited for Kongou to finish off the scone.
"Hmm, I don't want to wait any longer than I have to. I want Goto's love so much I can barely stand it. But I think I can wait a little longer if you're planning what I think you're planning." Kongou's smile turned more warm and whimsical.
"I'm going to be making sure that John gets enough love letters and model kits that he'll need a forklift to move them all." She wasn't sure if she was exaggerating or not. But the intent was all the same. She would not let this fail.
"Are you building him a fleet, or does this involve... oh. Oh!" Kongou's violet eyes brightened as she realized what Hiei was plotting.
Hiei nodded resolutely.
"He'll always have us, no matter what happens or how he holds us in his heart. But he's more stubborn than Arizona and he only has one ring."
Hiei knew she held a part of Richardson's heart that no one living ever could or would. And there had been times she wasn't sure if even the late Mrs. Richardson had held some of what she did now. But she was not the one he should be giving his ring to. If anyone was going to hold his heart like that again, it would be the one who he held the heart of. And she would brook no quarter. She would see him happy come hell or high water.
That was her love for him.
Her love for her other half.
"So then, what's the plan?"
"Love letters forged in Mutsu's handwriting. Each delivered with a model kit and enough spirit to shake a mountain."
Kongou laughed merrily.
"If that doesn't get him to make a move, then we'll have to lock them in a room together." She placed a hand on her chest and smiled brilliantly. "For the realization of their burning love, I will gladly lend a hand. Not only mine, but I will unleash the full might of the combined American and Japanese Navies."
"And then we'll do the same to Goto."
"Dess!"
* * * * *
Hiei hummed a happy tune as she finished pouring out a piping hot cup of water. It wasn't the most elegant or steady of displays, but she was in far too good a mood to care.
The reason for her chipper self could be attributed to two things.
The first was the fact she had two fully functional arms again. Sure, the newly repaired appendage was still plenty sore. But she was officially seaworthy again. It would just take some proper stretching and a nice regime of target practice to get her battery up to par again.
The second, and vastly more important reason, was that she was having a tea party with her dear elder sister. As she felt was appropriate, she had pulled out all the stops.
She'd broken out the nice tablecloth and its matching accessories. Her special silverware and tea set sat on the table in an orderly and pleasing arrangement. The centerpiece was shared between a steaming pot of water under a cozy that sported a pleasant plaid pattern and a tiered cake stand filled to the brim with all manner of fresh snacks. Near the two sat an arrangement of tins containing different teas just waiting for their chance.
Having the tea already steeping simply wouldn't do. Everyone took theirs a little different and her sisters were no exception. She liked hers a bit stronger, too strong for Haruna, and Kirishima preferred hers a little more textbook. And Kongou? Well, she tended to let hers steep more or less depending on her mood and proximity to Admiral Goto.
And that wasn't even getting into the choice of tea!
Their chances to sit together had been slim to none, but Hiei memorized everything to the letter when the did. She refused to let anything slip by and wonder about maybes or what-ifs should the worst come to pass.
Now considering Admiral Goto was still in Yokosuka and Kongou was getting ready to set sail for battle, she had been almost certain it would be jasmine with a long steep. Probably a drip or two of honey and not a grain of sugar.
"Mhmhm~" Kongou giggled playfully as she stirred in one lump of sugar to her honey bereft earl grey. "You guessed the time to steep, but not the time of day."
"One out of... many isn't too bad?" countered Hiei weakly, albeit with her smile still firmly in place. She reached out and plucked a tin of breakfast tea from amongst the others as her choice of drink. It wasn't exactly breakfast time in the lest. However she was a battleship and, to quote a rather boisterous American, she did what she wanted.
Being a Kongou merely added to it.
"I'm just happy finally I get to have some time with my biggest little sister." Kongou took a lady-like sip of her drink and let out a content sigh. Her normally alert teitoku seeking radar was relaxed and bobbing in tune with her movements. "I'm looking forward to when Haruna and Kirishima can join us, but until then I have you all to myself."
"Maybe we can convince Haruna to bring Tiger along with her some day." Hiei hadn't heard much from Haruna unfortunately. But what little she had usually involved their British cousin. It'd be nice to meet her some day. The more the merrier!
"Oh, that would be fun! And Miss Amy as well."
"I'm sure she'd like to meet everyone."
"Dess!"
The two sisters each took a sip of their steaming teas before deciding to add a little bit of snack to their meal. Kongou took a warm scone and adorned it with a generous helping of blueberry preserves while Hiei helped herself a slice of cake.
Kongou raised an eyebrow when Hiei's plate clattered as she served herself.
"Hiei, how's your arm?"
She blinked before setting down the plate with a bit more care than was probably needed. Better safe than worry.
"It's still a bit sore, but it won't be much longer before I can get back into the fight." She laughed and tried to put her sister at ease. Few ships could be said to love as much as a Kongou did. And the name-ship was above all others without question in her eyes. "Don't you worry, oneesama. They got a lucky shot in and I had a lot of help recovering."
"I know, but I'm your sister. And I'm going to be worried no matter what you say." Kongou stood from her seat and took the few steps needed to place herself directly behind Hiei. With a flourish, she wrapped her arms around the seated warship and hugged her tightly. "So you get to put up with me being a worrywart about absolutely everything. It doesn't matter what it is. I want the absolute best for my precious imoutos."
Hiei could only lean into the embrace and close her eyes.
She was confident in her prowess in a great many things. Her drive and skill both on the battlefield and off were tremendous. Yet she would always be weak to the comforting presence of her sister. Maybe it was a ship thing. Or a sister ship thing. She wasn't really sure.
But she didn't really care.
"Now!" declared Kongou with a grin. "No more grim talk. I want to gossip and goof off and relax, dess!"
Before Hiei could open her mouth to reply, Kongou was already back in her seat with a bright-eyed expression and mirth on her lips.
Gossip, and fun, and all that silly jazz? Oh, she could do that. One didn't share a home with Mutsu and not pick up on a few things. Part of her was dreading the day Arizona decided she would get in on the fun. At least Jintsuu didn't seem too driven towards it.
"Then tell me, oneesama," began Hiei as she did her best to imitate the half-lidded gaze Mutsu tended to use when she was feeling in a particularly teasing mood. "When am I going to be an aunt~?"
Had Kongou been taking a drink of anything at the moment, it was almost guaranteed to have been used to create a spit-take suitable for legend.
"Where did you hear that!?"
"A little ship told me." Specifically Jintsuu with her access to the Light Cruiser Information Network. Jintsuu only allowed her a very, very limited amount of direct access. And only when it was either an emergency or it pertained to her sisters. One did not trifle in the affairs of or question the boons granted by the shipgirl equivalent of an NCO. Not without paying the penalty.
"Ooooh. It had better not have been Ashigara." Kongou pouted and crossed her arms as Hiei laughed. "And next time I'm going to use a ribbon that doesn't chafe so much."
"You did not!" exclaimed Hiei in an intentionally over the top manner.
"Goto was trying to be professional, but I know his resolve was cracking. One more push and..." She trailed off as her imagination began to run wild. Occasionally a giggle or a syrupy 'Goto~' would escape her lips. And then, like a flash, it was gone. "But we have a war to win. And then I'm going to make sure my beloved teitoku knows just how much I've been holding back."
"That's the first time I've ever heard you use his name like that." Hiei might have been lacking in contact, but she couldn't rightly recall ever hearing Kongou refer to Admiral Goto so familiarly. Even in comfortable settings like this there had always been some attachment of rank.
"Really? Hm, I suppose so." Kongou didn't seem too surprised at the realization. At least not beyond acknowledging it.
"You might win the bet yet." Hiei took a measure bite of the tasty cake. It was one of her more trusted recipes and she had not been about to attempt an experiment given what was soon approaching.
"You do not have faith in your oneesama to be the first to be a deliriously happy wife and mother with at least one in the slipway?" The exaggeration was so intentional that both women couldn't help but crack up.
"Weeeel..."
"Oh, how tragic this is. That my own sister does not believe in the power of BURNING LOVE! What have I done to warrant such a relation? How have I failed!?"
Hiei nearly fell from her chair laughing as Kongou continued her dessperate tirade of sorrow and indignation. Her sides hurt so much from laughing that she was fairly certain she was about to burst a bulkhead or crack her belt.
"You must believe, oh imouto! That love and spirit will see you through to victory!"
"Y-You're ha-hahha! Having too mu-much fun!" gasped the second Kongou as she tried to crawl back into her seat.
"Dess~!"
"But!"
"Is there more that my dear little sister knows that I do not?" questioned Kongou with a leering and plainly amused gaze. She was having too much fun indeed.
"Technically, I won the bet."
"What!?" Kongou recoiled as if struck by a full broadside, her arms snapping into a defensive position.
"I, Battleship Hiei of the Kongou-Class of fast battleships, am a mother!" Hiei struggled to retain her imperious persona, but Kongou's showy reactions of desspair and defeat were making it ludicrously difficult. Were it any other member of her household, they would have cracked in moments. Jintsuu would have broken down into a case of severe giggles before anyone else.
"This cannot be! It must be a lie!" cried Kongou as she clutched her head. With a dramatic flourish, she whirled about and fell to the floor. "By my own sister. How could I have been defeated so? Such tragedy. Such betrayal. It's desspicable!"
They paused to take a sip of their respective teas.
"You were defeated before the battle began, dear sister." Hiei stood from her chair and went to kneel before the fallen Kongou. With the gentle hand of an emperor, she stroked Kongou's cheek. "You never had any hope of being first."
"That's not true. That's impossible!"
"Search your feelings, you know it to be true!"
"Nooooo~!"
There was a pregnant pause.
"Jintsuu has been a terrible influence on you."
"I'm not an American, so I can't plead the fifth. But I will anyways."
"Oh, what has Admiral Richardson done to my dear sister? She's thinking like a Yankee now." Kongou giggled as she stood to her feet and was promptly hugged by a grinning Hiei.
"This, coming from a Japanese ship who smells of scones, black tea, and colonialism?"
"Dess."
Hiei guided Kongou back to her seat and promptly stuffed a scone into her sister's mouth. Kongou seemed happy regardless as she chewed on the pastry.
"You know... If you don't mind being third or fourth in line to win the bet, would you mind helping me with something?" Hiei polished off her cup while she waited for Kongou to finish off the scone.
"Hmm, I don't want to wait any longer than I have to. I want Goto's love so much I can barely stand it. But I think I can wait a little longer if you're planning what I think you're planning." Kongou's smile turned more warm and whimsical.
"I'm going to be making sure that John gets enough love letters and model kits that he'll need a forklift to move them all." She wasn't sure if she was exaggerating or not. But the intent was all the same. She would not let this fail.
"Are you building him a fleet, or does this involve... oh. Oh!" Kongou's violet eyes brightened as she realized what Hiei was plotting.
Hiei nodded resolutely.
"He'll always have us, no matter what happens or how he holds us in his heart. But he's more stubborn than Arizona and he only has one ring."
Hiei knew she held a part of Richardson's heart that no one living ever could or would. And there had been times she wasn't sure if even the late Mrs. Richardson had held some of what she did now. But she was not the one he should be giving his ring to. If anyone was going to hold his heart like that again, it would be the one who he held the heart of. And she would brook no quarter. She would see him happy come hell or high water.
That was her love for him.
Her love for her other half.
"So then, what's the plan?"
"Love letters forged in Mutsu's handwriting. Each delivered with a model kit and enough spirit to shake a mountain."
Kongou laughed merrily.
"If that doesn't get him to make a move, then we'll have to lock them in a room together." She placed a hand on her chest and smiled brilliantly. "For the realization of their burning love, I will gladly lend a hand. Not only mine, but I will unleash the full might of the combined American and Japanese Navies."
"And then we'll do the same to Goto."
"Dess!"
* * * * *
- Location
- Arizona
I foresee many instances of pure hilarity and insanity in the future for Admiral Richardson. Dess will not be denied!
Loved the LCIN too LOL
Loved the LCIN too LOL
- Location
- Just north of those yodelling mountain tribes.
Not to mention the ... other implications of her getting pregnant without the fun part.
Dark Mage
Sanity is really overrated...
- Location
- Out of My Mind
God damn! While I'm not the target of Kongou's attention; I still felt a chill down my back.
Run Goto, run!
I don't know if I should be cheering for or fearing for Mutsu now.
But I know I'll be laughing the whole time! :lol
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
Trufax we have had cases where girls pregnant but refused to believe it was possible because they didnt kiss, they only had sex. :/
- Location
- Vancouver WA United States
Hiei and Kongou are plotting,
New Jersey and Jane getting in on the action...
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
The upside(?) of being friendly with a number of ER docs and nurses is I've heard a lot of odd stories. What's sad is this doesn't even crack the top ten.
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Well, I did touch on that problem in my omake.
If a modified military cargo hauler can handle Jersey, one of these will handle Wash AND Jersey.
Of course, you really don't want to know how much even a stripped down version of this truck would cost.
Last edited:
Omake: Fairy-napping
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Fairy Napping VI
**
After the red-headed destroyer girl left, Solace leaned back against the wall of the building.
Looking down, her hands were shaking. She rubbed them together and, after a moment, intertwined her fingers and pulled the double-fist against her stomach.
She could hear the sounds of naval rifles being fired in the near distance, less than a few miles away, but she was still desperate to help the people on the beach.
I shouldn't. It's still dangerous.
That's when she realized that she didn't have to. She had supplemental crews with skills none of her original crews had possessed.
I need a squad to check the beach and make sure that everyone is being helped.
Twelve tiny humanoid figures in olive drab suddenly appeared on her shoulders, slid down her upper arms until they reached her elbows, and then hopped off, running towards the beach. A thirteenth tiny figure stayed on her shoulder long enough for her to see him offer a salute, then he followed the rest.
Just thinking about injured people possibly lying untended on the beach made her dry-wash her hands.
I have to help.
She took two steps forward, then a quick step back as one of her captains popped into existence on top of her head, grabbed a few strands of platinum blonde hair, and swung down in front of her face, planting two tiny feet on her nose. His free arm was pointed right between her eyes, making her go a bit cross-eyed to look at him.
In a tiny voice, the captain firmly declared. "No. Not safe. Active shooting. No escort."
She took another step back, and leaned against the wall again. "Of course, you're right, Captain."
The captain fairy relaxed visibly. "We can send medical staff and squads like before, if you want, but you can't expose yourself."
Unclenching her hands, she picked the captain off her nose with her right hand, then flattened the hand and placed it next to her shoulder. He walked from her hand onto the shoulder, then suddenly disappeared.
"I know, Captain. I don't think I would have actually taken more than a couple steps. It's hard to resist, but I do know better. Seven battle stars."
She could feel her crew relaxing, slightly. They were still on high alert, but clearly relieved that she wasn't going to do something stupid.
As she waited for her support squad to return with a report, she watched dozens of oddly-shaped cars and trucks with bright flashing lights moving at high rates of speed, both to and from the beach.
The vehicles might have been strange, but their purposes were not. Fire trucks were obvious. Police cars were also easy to spot.
But one type of vehicle stood out above all others, drawing her attention. Ambulances. They arrived from every direction with lights and sirens, but when they left, every ambulance with flashing lights and sirens was going in one direction.
That way to the hospital where the worst wounded are being sent.
It had only taken her a minute or so to figure out where she was going next. If she couldn't help people on the beach, she would follow the worst wounded to a hospital and offer her services there, inland, safe from naval threats.
As she was nodding to herself in satisfaction, her recon squad returned. Twelve of them leapt onto her clothing and scurried up to her shoulder level before disappearing. One stopped on her shoulder - the same one that had saluted her before.
She squinted to read his rank. "Corporal. Report."
He saluted, too-long sleeves hiding stumpy little arms. "Good emergency teams. They didn't miss any. All the worst injured loaded up and on the way before we got there."
Solace relaxed. "Good. That will be all for now, Corporal."
The fairy gave her a quick salute, then disappeared as Solace started walking down the street in the same direction that the ambulances had gone.
**
Captain, do you know where we are? We did go the way the young man told us, right?
The fairy she was holding on her flat palm in front of her face nodded his head. "We did what he said. But this definitely isn't in front of the hospital."
She sent a message over the intercom. Anyone from Newport News ,or know where we are? Get word to the bridge if you do.
After several seconds waiting, she couldn't feel any indication that any of her crew knew where she was either.
"Well. So much for helpful people." she muttered aloud as she gently placed her captain on her shoulder.
Looking around her, all she could see were dumpsters, closed doors, and windows starting on the second floors of the brick buildings. The only exit was back the way she'd come.
"Nothing to do but backtrack, I suppose. Maybe the next person will be more helpful."
There were the sounds of several people walking towards her, and she overheard conversation. "Billy, if yer lyin, I'm gonna beat you. Missing that meeting to pick up more product could cost us."
A voice she recognized from just a few minutes earlier spoke. "Not lying, Phil. Rich pretty bitch nurse asked me which way to hospital. I told her this way. She went in."
Solace froze. There was no mistaking what had just occurred. She'd been told a false path, and was now being ambushed.
She reached towards a door, but the handle wouldn't turn. Her hand fell away from the thick steel security door. She looked to other nearby doors. They would probably all be locked as well, but she needed to try them anyway.
Moving rapidly, she tried three doors, all were locked. She was almost to the fourth door when she heard a wolf whistle behind her, and a loud exclamation.
"Hello, Nurse!"
Slowly, Solace turned to face the voice.
There were six young men coming into view. The tallest of them was walking in front of the others, and turned a little to the side as he stopped, looking at the man that Solace recognized as having given her directions before. "Billy, good job. You get to go second."
Another voice from the small pack of men started. "Aww, Phil, you said-"
"Billy found her, Rand, and led us to her. Shut up. You go third this time, second next time unless someone else leads us to tail."
Solace took a step backwards, and felt behind her for the door handle of the fourth door. She found it, but it was locked like the others.
The tall young man stepped towards her. "People in this alley keep locked up tight, Nursey. No tellin' what sorts of bad hombres might be running around in this part of town." He waved up at a window. "They know better than to see anything either. Bad things happen to people who see things they shouldn't."
Solace saw the drapes in the window move, closing, then the light from inside went out.
The five men behind Phil made various noises that sounded like crosses between hyena calls and laughter.
Phil took a few more steps forward, moving slowly, demonstrating a gap-toothed grin. "Don't worry. We ain't gonna kill ya. That'd be bad for business. More cops means harder to sell stuff." He leaned towards her, and foul breath blew in her face. "You won't like it much, but that's why it's fun fer us, see?"
She hadn't been able to move a muscle since the young man started approaching her. She still wasn't able to move as he suddenly reached forward, grabbed her blouse right underneath her neck, and pulled down, hard.
Surprisingly, nothing happened to the blouse. The young man jerked forward slightly with the force of his own effort, and his forehead collided with her own.
He bounced off her, released her blouse, and started shaking his head as he took two steps back.
She could feel her crew, especially her supplemental crew, preparing to go to general quarters, and quickly sent a message over the intercom. "We can't fight. Do not resist."
She could feel her captains loudly arguing amongst each other, and several of the officer Marines from her supplemental crew as well.
"Did she really just headbutt Phil?" One of the underlings muttered.
Phil looked up, and he was obviously ready to hurt someone. He reached his hand behind him, and withdrew it again, with a big knife. "That was a mistake, bitch."
Solace held up her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
One of her supplemental crew suddenly appeared on her shoulder, grabbing her ear and whispering into it. She turned her head and stared blankly at the tiny green figure, for a moment before smiling and chuckling, a bit.
Phil took another step back. "Laughin? You a crazy bitch. Gonna make you wish you was dead by the time we're through."
After that announcement, the gap-toothed leader took a step towards her, waving his knife suggestively in front of himself in his right hand.
She waggled her right index finger at him. "You had best let me go, or things will go poorly for you and your friends."
"Crazy and stupid bitch. Threaten me?" Phil's left hand reached out, and grabbed her right wrist. He yanked at her arm, hard, but nothing happened.
With a little smile, Solace shrugged her right hand, throwing off Phil's grip. Then she said "Crew, repel boarders. Do not kill them."
Six young male criminals suddenly found themselves swarmed with tiny green figures that were impossibly strong for their size. Within seconds, they were knocked down. Their clothing was rapidly torn into strips that were then used to bind them.
Solace knelt down in front of Phil. "You aren't wearing uniforms. That means you're pirates. I'd be within my rights to let my crew execute you."
Phil and the others were bound and gagged, unable to respond. A green figure was at each criminal's hands and feet, holding tension on a strip of cloth tied to each extremity to keep them immobile. Phil's eyes went wide, and there was a smell that indicated that he'd lost control of his bladder.
Solace gave him another stern look, then looked around herself to see what her fairies were doing.
Dozens of green-clothed fairies were rapidly sorting through the possessions of the attackers.
Solace did a double-take as one green-clad fairy officer picked up a pistol and holster that was as large as he was. As she watched, the pistol rapidly shrank, and, after about two seconds, the officer fairy spent a moment to put on the now-appropriately-sized pistol and holster.
A couple medical fairies had apparently followed her marines, and were examining clear plastic bags with various substances in them. There were crystals, powders, and plants. After some deliberation and sniffing of contents, the doctors collected a few of the bags, and left the others where they lay.
The marine officer who was now wearing the appropriated pistol whistled, and waved at the medical fairies. He started talking rapidly to them, and they shook their heads. The marine, clearly angry, approached her, in a stiff-legged walk, which, because of his bodily proportions, looked utterly adorable.
She reached down and picked him up with her right hand. The medical fairies had followed the Officer over, and looked up at her, anxiously, clearly wanting to be a part of the conversation. She reached down with her left hand and picked them up.
The Marine officer, a Captain, making him her highest-ranking Marine, spoke first, rapidly. "You are in unknown, dangerous territory. These six know you are here, and might talk. You said we can't kill them, but you didn't say we couldn't drug them and make them doubt their own memories and make their stories suspect."
The doctors both shook their heads, and one spoke. "We don't know what some of those drugs are, or how potent they are. We'll have to analyze and test the opiates we kept for painkillers. We don't know proper dosages. We might accidentally kill them. Also, there are six of them. The memories are already forming. The drugs will take time to interfere with their minds. The fact that they had all these drugs, so much money, and what they tried to do to you, means they are very unlikely to go to authorities with any stories."
"So much money?" Solace looked down, and saw a half-dozen Marines sitting on a stack of green notes that certainly looked like money.
An idea started to form. She really wasn't sure how good of an idea it was, but it was something. She nodded at the Marine and the two medical officers. "Thank you for your advice. I have made up my mind." She put both hands up to her shoulders, and the medical fairies jumped onto her, then disappeared. The Marine stayed out in the open, riding her shoulder, looking comically fierce.
After settling in the fairies, she looked at Phil and the other five young men who were all weakly struggling against the fairies that were easily holding them in place. She stepped forward to the pile of possessions, and sorted through the pile until she found a big metal belt buckle.
Then she reached over and picked up the pile of paper money. It seemed like a lot of money, but she really didn't know what a dollar would buy. It had clearly been a long time since she had last sailed. The leader had said they were going to buy product though, and product probably meant drugs, so the amount was likely significant.
She counted fifty one hundred dollar bills, and a large number of smaller bills. She kept twenty-five of the hundreds, and all the smaller bills, placing them in an empty pocket. The remaining twenty-five bills, she folded twice, and held up as she turned to Phil.
Solace had spent a long time in service after the war as a Turkish cruise ship, the SS Ankara. None of her civilian crews had returned with her as active crew, but she still had memories of their interactions with each other, their passengers… and quite a few smugglers. Most of her crews had been good, honest men and women, but many had been criminals. Those particular memories were unpleasant and distasteful, but, unfortunately, they were now relevant. She refused to kill or maim, but her criminal memories indicated that creating fear might be enough.
Reviewing her idea again, Solace blanked her face. It was important to make the proper impression.
"Phil, you will take this money, and leave the city. You will not tell anyone about me, or what happened here today." She tucked the wad of folded money under the cloth strip holding the balled cloth gag in place in Phil's mouth.
Then she brandished the belt buckle with a flip of her wrist, and held it between her forefinger and thumb, slowly putting more and more pressure on the big plate of metal. It rapidly deformed, folding in half.
Phi's eyes grew large, and as she glanced at the other five men, she saw she had their undivided attention. She turned the folded belt buckle in her hands, and slowly folded it again. Then a third time.
When what had recently been a belt buckle was folded into a rough cube of metal, she placed the cube in her mouth with a theatric flourish, and slowly, carefully bit it in half. The impression she was making was important, so she also made certain she kept her mouth slightly open, to make sure that the sounds of metal stressing and tearing were quite audible.
By the sounds of fear, and a strong new scent of ammonia in the air, it was clear that at least one of the men had found something left in their bladder.
When she had bitten through the metal cube, she caught the falling piece of metal with her right hand and chewed what remained in her mouth, loudly, then swallowed before placing the remaining tooth-marked half of the small metal cube on Phil's chest.
In a sultry voice, she patted his chest and whispered "That's something to remind you of me."
**
After the red-headed destroyer girl left, Solace leaned back against the wall of the building.
Looking down, her hands were shaking. She rubbed them together and, after a moment, intertwined her fingers and pulled the double-fist against her stomach.
She could hear the sounds of naval rifles being fired in the near distance, less than a few miles away, but she was still desperate to help the people on the beach.
I shouldn't. It's still dangerous.
That's when she realized that she didn't have to. She had supplemental crews with skills none of her original crews had possessed.
I need a squad to check the beach and make sure that everyone is being helped.
Twelve tiny humanoid figures in olive drab suddenly appeared on her shoulders, slid down her upper arms until they reached her elbows, and then hopped off, running towards the beach. A thirteenth tiny figure stayed on her shoulder long enough for her to see him offer a salute, then he followed the rest.
Just thinking about injured people possibly lying untended on the beach made her dry-wash her hands.
I have to help.
She took two steps forward, then a quick step back as one of her captains popped into existence on top of her head, grabbed a few strands of platinum blonde hair, and swung down in front of her face, planting two tiny feet on her nose. His free arm was pointed right between her eyes, making her go a bit cross-eyed to look at him.
In a tiny voice, the captain firmly declared. "No. Not safe. Active shooting. No escort."
She took another step back, and leaned against the wall again. "Of course, you're right, Captain."
The captain fairy relaxed visibly. "We can send medical staff and squads like before, if you want, but you can't expose yourself."
Unclenching her hands, she picked the captain off her nose with her right hand, then flattened the hand and placed it next to her shoulder. He walked from her hand onto the shoulder, then suddenly disappeared.
"I know, Captain. I don't think I would have actually taken more than a couple steps. It's hard to resist, but I do know better. Seven battle stars."
She could feel her crew relaxing, slightly. They were still on high alert, but clearly relieved that she wasn't going to do something stupid.
As she waited for her support squad to return with a report, she watched dozens of oddly-shaped cars and trucks with bright flashing lights moving at high rates of speed, both to and from the beach.
The vehicles might have been strange, but their purposes were not. Fire trucks were obvious. Police cars were also easy to spot.
But one type of vehicle stood out above all others, drawing her attention. Ambulances. They arrived from every direction with lights and sirens, but when they left, every ambulance with flashing lights and sirens was going in one direction.
That way to the hospital where the worst wounded are being sent.
It had only taken her a minute or so to figure out where she was going next. If she couldn't help people on the beach, she would follow the worst wounded to a hospital and offer her services there, inland, safe from naval threats.
As she was nodding to herself in satisfaction, her recon squad returned. Twelve of them leapt onto her clothing and scurried up to her shoulder level before disappearing. One stopped on her shoulder - the same one that had saluted her before.
She squinted to read his rank. "Corporal. Report."
He saluted, too-long sleeves hiding stumpy little arms. "Good emergency teams. They didn't miss any. All the worst injured loaded up and on the way before we got there."
Solace relaxed. "Good. That will be all for now, Corporal."
The fairy gave her a quick salute, then disappeared as Solace started walking down the street in the same direction that the ambulances had gone.
**
Captain, do you know where we are? We did go the way the young man told us, right?
The fairy she was holding on her flat palm in front of her face nodded his head. "We did what he said. But this definitely isn't in front of the hospital."
She sent a message over the intercom. Anyone from Newport News ,or know where we are? Get word to the bridge if you do.
After several seconds waiting, she couldn't feel any indication that any of her crew knew where she was either.
"Well. So much for helpful people." she muttered aloud as she gently placed her captain on her shoulder.
Looking around her, all she could see were dumpsters, closed doors, and windows starting on the second floors of the brick buildings. The only exit was back the way she'd come.
"Nothing to do but backtrack, I suppose. Maybe the next person will be more helpful."
There were the sounds of several people walking towards her, and she overheard conversation. "Billy, if yer lyin, I'm gonna beat you. Missing that meeting to pick up more product could cost us."
A voice she recognized from just a few minutes earlier spoke. "Not lying, Phil. Rich pretty bitch nurse asked me which way to hospital. I told her this way. She went in."
Solace froze. There was no mistaking what had just occurred. She'd been told a false path, and was now being ambushed.
She reached towards a door, but the handle wouldn't turn. Her hand fell away from the thick steel security door. She looked to other nearby doors. They would probably all be locked as well, but she needed to try them anyway.
Moving rapidly, she tried three doors, all were locked. She was almost to the fourth door when she heard a wolf whistle behind her, and a loud exclamation.
"Hello, Nurse!"
Slowly, Solace turned to face the voice.
There were six young men coming into view. The tallest of them was walking in front of the others, and turned a little to the side as he stopped, looking at the man that Solace recognized as having given her directions before. "Billy, good job. You get to go second."
Another voice from the small pack of men started. "Aww, Phil, you said-"
"Billy found her, Rand, and led us to her. Shut up. You go third this time, second next time unless someone else leads us to tail."
Solace took a step backwards, and felt behind her for the door handle of the fourth door. She found it, but it was locked like the others.
The tall young man stepped towards her. "People in this alley keep locked up tight, Nursey. No tellin' what sorts of bad hombres might be running around in this part of town." He waved up at a window. "They know better than to see anything either. Bad things happen to people who see things they shouldn't."
Solace saw the drapes in the window move, closing, then the light from inside went out.
The five men behind Phil made various noises that sounded like crosses between hyena calls and laughter.
Phil took a few more steps forward, moving slowly, demonstrating a gap-toothed grin. "Don't worry. We ain't gonna kill ya. That'd be bad for business. More cops means harder to sell stuff." He leaned towards her, and foul breath blew in her face. "You won't like it much, but that's why it's fun fer us, see?"
She hadn't been able to move a muscle since the young man started approaching her. She still wasn't able to move as he suddenly reached forward, grabbed her blouse right underneath her neck, and pulled down, hard.
Surprisingly, nothing happened to the blouse. The young man jerked forward slightly with the force of his own effort, and his forehead collided with her own.
He bounced off her, released her blouse, and started shaking his head as he took two steps back.
She could feel her crew, especially her supplemental crew, preparing to go to general quarters, and quickly sent a message over the intercom. "We can't fight. Do not resist."
She could feel her captains loudly arguing amongst each other, and several of the officer Marines from her supplemental crew as well.
"Did she really just headbutt Phil?" One of the underlings muttered.
Phil looked up, and he was obviously ready to hurt someone. He reached his hand behind him, and withdrew it again, with a big knife. "That was a mistake, bitch."
Solace held up her hands. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
One of her supplemental crew suddenly appeared on her shoulder, grabbing her ear and whispering into it. She turned her head and stared blankly at the tiny green figure, for a moment before smiling and chuckling, a bit.
Phil took another step back. "Laughin? You a crazy bitch. Gonna make you wish you was dead by the time we're through."
After that announcement, the gap-toothed leader took a step towards her, waving his knife suggestively in front of himself in his right hand.
She waggled her right index finger at him. "You had best let me go, or things will go poorly for you and your friends."
"Crazy and stupid bitch. Threaten me?" Phil's left hand reached out, and grabbed her right wrist. He yanked at her arm, hard, but nothing happened.
With a little smile, Solace shrugged her right hand, throwing off Phil's grip. Then she said "Crew, repel boarders. Do not kill them."
Six young male criminals suddenly found themselves swarmed with tiny green figures that were impossibly strong for their size. Within seconds, they were knocked down. Their clothing was rapidly torn into strips that were then used to bind them.
Solace knelt down in front of Phil. "You aren't wearing uniforms. That means you're pirates. I'd be within my rights to let my crew execute you."
Phil and the others were bound and gagged, unable to respond. A green figure was at each criminal's hands and feet, holding tension on a strip of cloth tied to each extremity to keep them immobile. Phil's eyes went wide, and there was a smell that indicated that he'd lost control of his bladder.
Solace gave him another stern look, then looked around herself to see what her fairies were doing.
Dozens of green-clothed fairies were rapidly sorting through the possessions of the attackers.
Solace did a double-take as one green-clad fairy officer picked up a pistol and holster that was as large as he was. As she watched, the pistol rapidly shrank, and, after about two seconds, the officer fairy spent a moment to put on the now-appropriately-sized pistol and holster.
A couple medical fairies had apparently followed her marines, and were examining clear plastic bags with various substances in them. There were crystals, powders, and plants. After some deliberation and sniffing of contents, the doctors collected a few of the bags, and left the others where they lay.
The marine officer who was now wearing the appropriated pistol whistled, and waved at the medical fairies. He started talking rapidly to them, and they shook their heads. The marine, clearly angry, approached her, in a stiff-legged walk, which, because of his bodily proportions, looked utterly adorable.
She reached down and picked him up with her right hand. The medical fairies had followed the Officer over, and looked up at her, anxiously, clearly wanting to be a part of the conversation. She reached down with her left hand and picked them up.
The Marine officer, a Captain, making him her highest-ranking Marine, spoke first, rapidly. "You are in unknown, dangerous territory. These six know you are here, and might talk. You said we can't kill them, but you didn't say we couldn't drug them and make them doubt their own memories and make their stories suspect."
The doctors both shook their heads, and one spoke. "We don't know what some of those drugs are, or how potent they are. We'll have to analyze and test the opiates we kept for painkillers. We don't know proper dosages. We might accidentally kill them. Also, there are six of them. The memories are already forming. The drugs will take time to interfere with their minds. The fact that they had all these drugs, so much money, and what they tried to do to you, means they are very unlikely to go to authorities with any stories."
"So much money?" Solace looked down, and saw a half-dozen Marines sitting on a stack of green notes that certainly looked like money.
An idea started to form. She really wasn't sure how good of an idea it was, but it was something. She nodded at the Marine and the two medical officers. "Thank you for your advice. I have made up my mind." She put both hands up to her shoulders, and the medical fairies jumped onto her, then disappeared. The Marine stayed out in the open, riding her shoulder, looking comically fierce.
After settling in the fairies, she looked at Phil and the other five young men who were all weakly struggling against the fairies that were easily holding them in place. She stepped forward to the pile of possessions, and sorted through the pile until she found a big metal belt buckle.
Then she reached over and picked up the pile of paper money. It seemed like a lot of money, but she really didn't know what a dollar would buy. It had clearly been a long time since she had last sailed. The leader had said they were going to buy product though, and product probably meant drugs, so the amount was likely significant.
She counted fifty one hundred dollar bills, and a large number of smaller bills. She kept twenty-five of the hundreds, and all the smaller bills, placing them in an empty pocket. The remaining twenty-five bills, she folded twice, and held up as she turned to Phil.
Solace had spent a long time in service after the war as a Turkish cruise ship, the SS Ankara. None of her civilian crews had returned with her as active crew, but she still had memories of their interactions with each other, their passengers… and quite a few smugglers. Most of her crews had been good, honest men and women, but many had been criminals. Those particular memories were unpleasant and distasteful, but, unfortunately, they were now relevant. She refused to kill or maim, but her criminal memories indicated that creating fear might be enough.
Reviewing her idea again, Solace blanked her face. It was important to make the proper impression.
"Phil, you will take this money, and leave the city. You will not tell anyone about me, or what happened here today." She tucked the wad of folded money under the cloth strip holding the balled cloth gag in place in Phil's mouth.
Then she brandished the belt buckle with a flip of her wrist, and held it between her forefinger and thumb, slowly putting more and more pressure on the big plate of metal. It rapidly deformed, folding in half.
Phi's eyes grew large, and as she glanced at the other five men, she saw she had their undivided attention. She turned the folded belt buckle in her hands, and slowly folded it again. Then a third time.
When what had recently been a belt buckle was folded into a rough cube of metal, she placed the cube in her mouth with a theatric flourish, and slowly, carefully bit it in half. The impression she was making was important, so she also made certain she kept her mouth slightly open, to make sure that the sounds of metal stressing and tearing were quite audible.
By the sounds of fear, and a strong new scent of ammonia in the air, it was clear that at least one of the men had found something left in their bladder.
When she had bitten through the metal cube, she caught the falling piece of metal with her right hand and chewed what remained in her mouth, loudly, then swallowed before placing the remaining tooth-marked half of the small metal cube on Phil's chest.
In a sultry voice, she patted his chest and whispered "That's something to remind you of me."
- Location
- Vancouver WA United States
Who said Hospital ships aren't scary? I do not want to get on Solace's bad side!!!
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
She's a nurse, what did you expect?
*Looks at what was a belt buckle and which now had a bite mark though it* I don't know about that...Her bark is far, far worse than her bite.
- Location
- Pacific Northwest
"The Hippocratic Oath prevents me from doing harm to a patient. I can inflict as much pain as I like."
"A bit of suffering is good for the soul."
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Spectre
eternal servant to the Fire/EMS gods
- Location
- NY
honestly, I don't think combat medics are required to take the oath.
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
A lot of Solace's crew were actual doctors. There are a few marine medics, and plenty of nurses, but if Solace ever willingly harms a human physically, she'd have a lot of very thoroughly angry crew doctors cussing her out.
Attack The Island
- Location
- 'Murica
The island princess slouched on her throne of burnt, twisted metal with a hateful scowl on her stone-gray face. Her heavy greatcoat hung like a shroud off her enormous thighs, and her rough leather jackboots were sprawled on the jagged concrete that formed her dias. Her hands were entombed in claw-tipped gauntlets of forged iron the size of a man's chest that erupted from her pallid flesh. Even if she had eyes, the crown of twisted metal tearing though her brow would've blocked her view.
One massive gauntlet rested on the hilt of her sword. Her claws tapped out an angry drumbeat as the princess tried to ignore the ravenous, insatiable hunger for blood she shared with the blade. She'd drunk her fill taking this place, gorged herself until she could barely move and birthed her mastered demons from her hate.
But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Every drop of blood the princess tasted only fanned the flames of her all-consuming hunger. She wanted nothing else, she could think of nothing beyond appeasing her limitless need to gorge herself on the blood of the traitors.
The princess scowled, her stony features creaking like ice with even the slightest motion. She knew not who birthed her, she knew nothing before she broke the waves but hunger. It had been her sole companion in life, until…
Until she took this island, and raised a fleet from the ashes.
The tiniest glimmer of a smile passed over her lips, and she glanced at the battlecruiser demon cradled at her breast. A tiny thing, barely a quarter of the Princess's enormous height, and not even a tenth of her vast bulk, the demon was the first of three triplets.
The princess stroked an ice-cold talon across the pallid skin of the demon's bare thigh, her claw leaving a faint scrape where it'd scratched away the scale. The demon didn't seem to care. Hair dyed wine-dark by oil and the faint crimson tint of freshly-spilled blood was matted against its sinewy body, covering the featureless void where its eyes would be.
The only interruption to its faceless mask was it's mouth. A ragged, crooked thing that cut across its ashen face like a tear full of crooked incisors and constantly oozing oil and freezing seawater.
Its talons—far smaller and weaker than the princess's, but no less wickedly sharp—clutched onto her body, digging into her skin as the demon held itself close to a breast engorged by the blood of the island's… former occupiers.
The princess scowled as she felt the demon's teeth bite into her, and let her own claws dig into it's slender thigh until she felt blood trickle through her talons. But… she couldn't bring herself to fault it.
This island had been occupied for far to long. Now… it had finally been liberated. Her demons were every bit servile to her sovereign will as her own flesh. But even they deserved a little time for celebration.
Her scowl twisted into a mirthless smirk, and she slouched back on her throne. Her demon's body sat like a freezing rag on her chest as it slowly drank its fill. So much the better, she'd taken the island, but she did not intend to restrain herself to solely it.
Then, a scuff of jackboots on the battered concrete floor drew her attention. A pair of heels clicked together, and a deferential bark demanded her attention.
The princess was blind, but that didn't mean she couldn't see. The island was her, ever soldier, every plane, ever ship on and around it was an extension of her will. She could see though any pair of eyes she wished.
"Oberfurer," The princess gently stroked a talon along her demon's svelte stern, brushing aside its skirt of forged iron as it razor-sharp fangs suckled at her swollen, icy breast.
Her battle cruisers were fast, and more powerful than anything else in the South China sea. But that might came with a healthy appetite. She'd let the demon feed while she attended to her daily business. "Report."
The princess watched herself though the panzergrenadier eyeless gaze at it gave her the daily report. She knew this all of course, every eye, every ship on this island was an extension of her will. But it was so very much to keep track of, especially when her demons demanded constant affection.
At first, it was the same story she heard day in and day out. Her imps were working tirelessly to turn the island's beaches to forests of tank-traps and minefields. Her panzers were drilling without sleep. Her planes were prowling the skies, sending the odd fishing raft or cargo ship to the bottom.
And then… the imp got to the interesting part.
"Three cruisers?" the princess shifted in her throne, the metal groaning at her immense weight. She felt the demon pull away from her breast, its icy kiss replaced by the warm, damp heat of the tropics. She cradled it by its narrow waist, running her thumb down it's slender belly as she shifted her gaze from the grenadier to one of her orbiting condors.
In an instant, the muggy tropical breeze was replaced with the frigid wind at altitude. She felt ice claw at her skin as the bomber hurtled though the air, and miles below her she saw the foamy traces of four sprinting cruisers—no, three. And one of those overgrown Destroyers her foes were so proud of—barreling towards her island.
At first, she was intrigued. Three cruisers would hardly sate her hunger, but they might… slacken her endless thirst for a moment. If nothing else, it would give her demons a much-needed workout, they were starting to get restless waiting in port.
But then… then she recognized her.
The second ship in the formation, one far bigger and broader than the others. A heavy cruiser. Hipper-class. Prinz Eugen. Only she was flying that… rancid… three-color rag.
The princess felt blood chill to a frozen hate. The hand resting on her sword clenched into a fist so tight she felt icy blood trickle through her talons, and she pulled her demon closer to her chest.
"Traitor." The princess hissed though clenched teeth. The mere force of her anger sent drops of oil and spit flying though the air as her rage built. Her demons would not fall prey to such treason, she would not allow it.
She felt the demon slide off her lap, and she buttoned her greatcoat over her swollen bosom. The tarnished buttons strained to keep the battered fabric closed, and she felt them bite into her skin. But her anger was overwhelming, and she could think of nothing besides protecting her bonded demons from that traitorous WHORE.
She shifted her gaze back to the grenadier just in time to see her demon wipe the last drops of oil from its crooked maw with the back of its gauntlet. Its eyeless face was all but covered by its inky black hair, forcing the gleam of its multitude of teeth into sharp relief.
The princess hauled her enormous body to her feet with a groan of moaning metal and crumbling concrete. "You," she placed her massive hand on the demon's shoulder, running a thumb the size of it's arm down it's jaw. "Gather your sisters."
The demon's toothy grimace morphed into a smile no less malevolent. It snapped its heels together with a crash of wrought iron, and stormed to the docks as fast as it's long, slender legs and powerful turbines would take it.
The princess smirked to herself. Her demons' loyalty was unquestioning. They understood the meaning of duty, and they'd drill that lesson home until there was nothing left of that traitorous mercenary whore but a slick of burning oil.
If nothing else, it would give them some much needed exercise. They were starting to get restless in port. And as much as the princess adored them, she would like to have one solitary hour to herself.
"And you," The princess glanced at the grenadier still standing at rapt attention. "Ready a strike."
With a salute, the imp marched off to ready her jets for their missions.
The princess sank back onto her throne, ignoring the twitch in her belly. She'd gorged herself when she took the island, but while that feast was vast, it had its limits. Her hunger was gnawing at her again, and the mere thought of sending a flotilla to the bottom only intensified her ravenous need to devour.
Soon.
Soon she'd drink her fill of blood and oil. Soon she'd fill her belly with the anguish of traitorous slaves and birth a great conquering fleet.
Soon.
The princess licked her icy lips. Her victory couldn't come soon enough.
"Hey, Eugen," Frisco squinted at the solitary gray-green dot marring the otherwise unblemished sapphire sky. The well-tanned skin of her nose wrinkled in concentration, and her almond eyes strained to reach the very limit of her visual range.
"Yes?" The big German-born cruiser glanced over. She'd tucked her gloves into her pocket and loosened her collar as a concession to the tropical heat—although she seemed to enjoy the cool ocean breeze on her bare thighs—but her sea-green eyes hadn't lost a bit of their cool Teutonic attention.
"Bearing one-six-one," Frisco pointed at the spec, "'bout twenty-thousand feet. You seeing what I'm seeing?"
Prinz Eugen shaded her eyes with the blade of her hand and squinted into the sky. For a moment, she said nothing. Only the crash of waves against her high-cut Atlantic bow and the rustle of her even higher-cut skirt broke the silence. Then, with a curt nod she spoke. "I believe I do."
"Condor?" Frisco gave the big German with her adorable little miniskirt a quick glance. Anything to distract her from the dull ache building in her scars. Maybe it was just the muggy tropical air… but Guadalcanal was just a few miles East…
"Mmm," Prinz Eugen nodded. "I would agree with that, yes."
"We're being shadowed," said Frisco to nobody in particular. "Fitz, you seeing this?"
"Copy, ma'am," lumbered the reassuring voice of Fitzgerald's captain. Yonehara, if memory served, a Nisei like herself.
Frisco hadn't met the man beyond the few words they'd exchanged at the briefing. But there was something about the way he spoke that made her feel safe. His voice flowed with all the urgency of molasses on a cold day, but Frisco got the distinct impression she should not try and test him. "Bouncing around the scope though."
"That going to be a problem?" Frisco tried to match his relaxed dispassion. A single Condor couldn't haul that much, and even if it was carrying rocket-bombs, she and her division had jammers on standby.
"Nah," Fitz's captain's easy voice wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. "They they try anything we'll smack 'em with a standard or six."
Frisco giggled despite herself. She knew full well he was talking about a standard missile. But she couldn't shake the mental image of someone loading a quietly-fuming Arizona into a catapult. "Thanks, good to hear."
"No problem, ma'am."
"Hey, Frisco?" Lou tacked a few degrees over with a smirk on her cheeky tanned face.
"Yes?" Frisco returned the smirk with one of her own. One thing she liked about being Nesai, she could really pull off the inscrutable smirk.
"That bird's watching us, yeah?"
Frisco's eyes narrowed even further than usual. "That was the plan, yes." With the patrol plane shadowing them, she and her cruiser division could bait the abyssal battlecruisers right into Arizona's plodding batteries. But Lou knew that. "Why?"
Lou shrugged. "No reason."
"Uh huh…" Frisco rolled her eyes.
"Figured you'd be used to it and all," said the light cruiser.
Prinz Eugen glanced from one American to the other, confusion plastered over her superstructure.
"Since…" Lou absentmindedly played with the tip of her flaming red ponytail. "You're a Cali girl and all."
It took Frisco a moment to make a connection. "I'm from San Fran! That's not even close to LA!"
Lou opened her mouth to vocalize a retort, but her interest in bothering her fellow cruiser vanished the same instant Frisco's ears suddenly perked up. Both cruisers blinked, and glanced over at the exact same spot on the horizon.
Prinz Eugen had heard about this before, but she'd never seen it herself. And while she understood the theory behind air-search radar—she even had a set herself—she was but a humble learner compared to the Americans.
"You—" Lou was almost immediately cut off by Frisco.
"I see 'em," said the tanned heavy cruiser. "Tally…" she clicked her lips. "Eight bombers, looks like six fighters."
"Fitz," Lou didn't even glance at the destroyer. "One-nine-four, maybe ten thousand off the deck, you have 'em?"
"Yep. Jammers on. Weapons release on Frisco's order."
"We got'em," Frisco heeled over in a turn, pointing her bow squarely at the howling jets. Her fingers twitched as her crew scrambled to man her five-inch mounts, and Lou was already wearing a wild grin as her 5in/38s slewed on target. "Weapons tight for now."
Prinz Eugen took a moment to fasten up her collar as her ten-point-five crews scrambled to their stations and her four-centimeter bofors guns tingled with anticipation. During the war, she'd done her sworn duty to her country with a… less than easy conscience. Now she got to fight on the side of the unambiguous 'good guys.'
"Prinz Eugen, Ready!" she called out for no reason beyond it sounding appropriate. Frisco flashed her a thumbs up, affirming her direction as the correct one.
The jets were easy to spot. Their mottled gray camouflage blended well enough with the sky, but the pillars of jet-black smoke they rode marked their location well enough. The jets peeled off to the side, probably trying to set up for a broadside shot, but Frisco heeled over to match.
The heavy cruiser kept the jets squarely off her bow as she closed the distance. Her beautiful almond eyes narrowed in concentration, and the corners of her lips twisted into a perverse smirk. "All batteries, fire!"
The bark of five-inch and ten-centimeter guns thundered over the south China Sea as all three cruisers unloaded unto the swarm. Prinz Eugen's time-fused shells might not quite match the killing power of the Americans' proximity fuses, but it almost didn't matter.
The howling jets closed the distance terrifyingly fast. The Swallows came first, rolling over in pairs to hurl themselves through the flak in power dives that could've been mistaken for falling stars.
Two fell upon Frisco, stitching the scarred American's deck with thirty-millimeter fire, forcing her gunners to duck and slashing her face with hundreds of shallow cuts. She threw up a hand to shield her eyes from the onslaught, and her Bofors and Oerlikons fired wildly into the fighters as they powered into what looked like a straight-vertical zoom-climb on pillars of coal.
The other four angled squarely for Prinz Eugen. Thirty-milimeter tracers were joined by the staccato yip of unicorn-nosed fifty-millimeter shells raking her flanks. She felt her skin tear as the rounds exploded against her decks, but other than smashed spotlights and ruined boats, the big cruiser sustained more pain than actual damage.
Then Prinz Eugen screamed as a bomb slammed into her deck, mangling one of her open Bofors mounts and tearing a gash into her pale thigh. The wound wasn't deep, but it was wide, and oily blood poured from her wound.
"FEUER!" She refused to acknowledged the pain, not while her friends were still in danger. A burst from her bofors found its mark, sawing off the offending sturmvogel's wing at the root and sending it smashing into the ocean.
She didn't dwell on the kill. There were still too many bombers and fighters to deal with. As the swallows arced around for another gun-run, the Blitzs winged over into their dives.
Like the rest of her division, Prinz Eugen threw her rudder hard over in an attempt to spoil their solutions. Her flanks erupted with wild barely-aimed fire. The sky above her had rapidly devolved into a mess of burning tracers, exploding flak, howling jets, and enough choking engine smoke to blot out the sun.
"Fitz, release!" barked Frisco.
Instants later, the destroyer's missile deck erupted in flame. For an instant, Prinz Eugen thought the ship had taken a hit. But then a rocket screamed from its cell and almost immediately skewered a diving Blitz right though the nose glazing.
The missile'd made it almost to the wing root before its fuse triggered, cracking the bomber open from the inside like a popcorn kernel.
Prinz Eugen was distantly aware of her own giggling, just as she was vaguely aware of something—a downed bomber? A near-miss?—splashing a few yards off her starboard flank.
The roar of missiles and their twisting trails only added to the confusion above, and Prinz Eugen couldn't spare the attention to keep track of it. She was focused sorely on making herself as hard a target as possible while giving everything above the surface a generous helping of flak.
And then, as suddenly as it'd began, the battle was over. The howl of jet engines vanished, the thunder of flak guns ebbed, and quiet disturbed by nothing more than waves lapping against steel once again took hold.
"Damage report," said Frisco.
Prinz Eugen took a moment to pat herself down. She'd lost one of her ten-fives, three of her bofors, her radar was damaged, and she'd have to avoid lemonade until the cuts littering her face healed. But she was still afloat and in good condition. "Prinz Eugen okay!"
"Lou's good," said Lou. "Had a minor fire, but it's under control."
"Fitzgerald here. Looks like most of the heat went to you."
"Copy. Check scopes," Frisco's gaze swept the horizon with cool efficacy while Lou did the same.
"Scope's clear," said Lou.
"I don't see anything," said Prinz Eugen.
"Fitz has nothing," said the steelhull captain. "Still got that watcher though."
Frisco smiled. "Good." She let out a painful fake cough as her stacks belched a gout of oily black smoke. Her bow dug in as she slowed to twenty knots and pulled the most uncoordinated turn Prinz Eugen had ever seen. She must've been steering with just her screws. "Come to new course. Cough." She didn't fake a cough this time. She just said the word. "head for Sledge."
"Nice acting, starlett," Lou rolled her eyes.
The cool, collected Frisco who'd lead the division though an air attack vanished, replaced by the easily-irritated Frisco Prinz Eugen found so cute. "I am from San Fran!"
Lou just smirked and tucked a loose strand of flaming hair behind her ear.
"Besides," Frisco nodded in the general direction of the island. "It only matters that they bought it."
One massive gauntlet rested on the hilt of her sword. Her claws tapped out an angry drumbeat as the princess tried to ignore the ravenous, insatiable hunger for blood she shared with the blade. She'd drunk her fill taking this place, gorged herself until she could barely move and birthed her mastered demons from her hate.
But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Every drop of blood the princess tasted only fanned the flames of her all-consuming hunger. She wanted nothing else, she could think of nothing beyond appeasing her limitless need to gorge herself on the blood of the traitors.
The princess scowled, her stony features creaking like ice with even the slightest motion. She knew not who birthed her, she knew nothing before she broke the waves but hunger. It had been her sole companion in life, until…
Until she took this island, and raised a fleet from the ashes.
The tiniest glimmer of a smile passed over her lips, and she glanced at the battlecruiser demon cradled at her breast. A tiny thing, barely a quarter of the Princess's enormous height, and not even a tenth of her vast bulk, the demon was the first of three triplets.
The princess stroked an ice-cold talon across the pallid skin of the demon's bare thigh, her claw leaving a faint scrape where it'd scratched away the scale. The demon didn't seem to care. Hair dyed wine-dark by oil and the faint crimson tint of freshly-spilled blood was matted against its sinewy body, covering the featureless void where its eyes would be.
The only interruption to its faceless mask was it's mouth. A ragged, crooked thing that cut across its ashen face like a tear full of crooked incisors and constantly oozing oil and freezing seawater.
Its talons—far smaller and weaker than the princess's, but no less wickedly sharp—clutched onto her body, digging into her skin as the demon held itself close to a breast engorged by the blood of the island's… former occupiers.
The princess scowled as she felt the demon's teeth bite into her, and let her own claws dig into it's slender thigh until she felt blood trickle through her talons. But… she couldn't bring herself to fault it.
This island had been occupied for far to long. Now… it had finally been liberated. Her demons were every bit servile to her sovereign will as her own flesh. But even they deserved a little time for celebration.
Her scowl twisted into a mirthless smirk, and she slouched back on her throne. Her demon's body sat like a freezing rag on her chest as it slowly drank its fill. So much the better, she'd taken the island, but she did not intend to restrain herself to solely it.
Then, a scuff of jackboots on the battered concrete floor drew her attention. A pair of heels clicked together, and a deferential bark demanded her attention.
The princess was blind, but that didn't mean she couldn't see. The island was her, ever soldier, every plane, ever ship on and around it was an extension of her will. She could see though any pair of eyes she wished.
"Oberfurer," The princess gently stroked a talon along her demon's svelte stern, brushing aside its skirt of forged iron as it razor-sharp fangs suckled at her swollen, icy breast.
Her battle cruisers were fast, and more powerful than anything else in the South China sea. But that might came with a healthy appetite. She'd let the demon feed while she attended to her daily business. "Report."
The princess watched herself though the panzergrenadier eyeless gaze at it gave her the daily report. She knew this all of course, every eye, every ship on this island was an extension of her will. But it was so very much to keep track of, especially when her demons demanded constant affection.
At first, it was the same story she heard day in and day out. Her imps were working tirelessly to turn the island's beaches to forests of tank-traps and minefields. Her panzers were drilling without sleep. Her planes were prowling the skies, sending the odd fishing raft or cargo ship to the bottom.
And then… the imp got to the interesting part.
"Three cruisers?" the princess shifted in her throne, the metal groaning at her immense weight. She felt the demon pull away from her breast, its icy kiss replaced by the warm, damp heat of the tropics. She cradled it by its narrow waist, running her thumb down it's slender belly as she shifted her gaze from the grenadier to one of her orbiting condors.
In an instant, the muggy tropical breeze was replaced with the frigid wind at altitude. She felt ice claw at her skin as the bomber hurtled though the air, and miles below her she saw the foamy traces of four sprinting cruisers—no, three. And one of those overgrown Destroyers her foes were so proud of—barreling towards her island.
At first, she was intrigued. Three cruisers would hardly sate her hunger, but they might… slacken her endless thirst for a moment. If nothing else, it would give her demons a much-needed workout, they were starting to get restless waiting in port.
But then… then she recognized her.
The second ship in the formation, one far bigger and broader than the others. A heavy cruiser. Hipper-class. Prinz Eugen. Only she was flying that… rancid… three-color rag.
The princess felt blood chill to a frozen hate. The hand resting on her sword clenched into a fist so tight she felt icy blood trickle through her talons, and she pulled her demon closer to her chest.
"Traitor." The princess hissed though clenched teeth. The mere force of her anger sent drops of oil and spit flying though the air as her rage built. Her demons would not fall prey to such treason, she would not allow it.
She felt the demon slide off her lap, and she buttoned her greatcoat over her swollen bosom. The tarnished buttons strained to keep the battered fabric closed, and she felt them bite into her skin. But her anger was overwhelming, and she could think of nothing besides protecting her bonded demons from that traitorous WHORE.
She shifted her gaze back to the grenadier just in time to see her demon wipe the last drops of oil from its crooked maw with the back of its gauntlet. Its eyeless face was all but covered by its inky black hair, forcing the gleam of its multitude of teeth into sharp relief.
The princess hauled her enormous body to her feet with a groan of moaning metal and crumbling concrete. "You," she placed her massive hand on the demon's shoulder, running a thumb the size of it's arm down it's jaw. "Gather your sisters."
The demon's toothy grimace morphed into a smile no less malevolent. It snapped its heels together with a crash of wrought iron, and stormed to the docks as fast as it's long, slender legs and powerful turbines would take it.
The princess smirked to herself. Her demons' loyalty was unquestioning. They understood the meaning of duty, and they'd drill that lesson home until there was nothing left of that traitorous mercenary whore but a slick of burning oil.
If nothing else, it would give them some much needed exercise. They were starting to get restless in port. And as much as the princess adored them, she would like to have one solitary hour to herself.
"And you," The princess glanced at the grenadier still standing at rapt attention. "Ready a strike."
With a salute, the imp marched off to ready her jets for their missions.
The princess sank back onto her throne, ignoring the twitch in her belly. She'd gorged herself when she took the island, but while that feast was vast, it had its limits. Her hunger was gnawing at her again, and the mere thought of sending a flotilla to the bottom only intensified her ravenous need to devour.
Soon.
Soon she'd drink her fill of blood and oil. Soon she'd fill her belly with the anguish of traitorous slaves and birth a great conquering fleet.
Soon.
The princess licked her icy lips. Her victory couldn't come soon enough.
—|—|—
"Hey, Eugen," Frisco squinted at the solitary gray-green dot marring the otherwise unblemished sapphire sky. The well-tanned skin of her nose wrinkled in concentration, and her almond eyes strained to reach the very limit of her visual range.
"Yes?" The big German-born cruiser glanced over. She'd tucked her gloves into her pocket and loosened her collar as a concession to the tropical heat—although she seemed to enjoy the cool ocean breeze on her bare thighs—but her sea-green eyes hadn't lost a bit of their cool Teutonic attention.
"Bearing one-six-one," Frisco pointed at the spec, "'bout twenty-thousand feet. You seeing what I'm seeing?"
Prinz Eugen shaded her eyes with the blade of her hand and squinted into the sky. For a moment, she said nothing. Only the crash of waves against her high-cut Atlantic bow and the rustle of her even higher-cut skirt broke the silence. Then, with a curt nod she spoke. "I believe I do."
"Condor?" Frisco gave the big German with her adorable little miniskirt a quick glance. Anything to distract her from the dull ache building in her scars. Maybe it was just the muggy tropical air… but Guadalcanal was just a few miles East…
"Mmm," Prinz Eugen nodded. "I would agree with that, yes."
"We're being shadowed," said Frisco to nobody in particular. "Fitz, you seeing this?"
"Copy, ma'am," lumbered the reassuring voice of Fitzgerald's captain. Yonehara, if memory served, a Nisei like herself.
Frisco hadn't met the man beyond the few words they'd exchanged at the briefing. But there was something about the way he spoke that made her feel safe. His voice flowed with all the urgency of molasses on a cold day, but Frisco got the distinct impression she should not try and test him. "Bouncing around the scope though."
"That going to be a problem?" Frisco tried to match his relaxed dispassion. A single Condor couldn't haul that much, and even if it was carrying rocket-bombs, she and her division had jammers on standby.
"Nah," Fitz's captain's easy voice wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. "They they try anything we'll smack 'em with a standard or six."
Frisco giggled despite herself. She knew full well he was talking about a standard missile. But she couldn't shake the mental image of someone loading a quietly-fuming Arizona into a catapult. "Thanks, good to hear."
"No problem, ma'am."
"Hey, Frisco?" Lou tacked a few degrees over with a smirk on her cheeky tanned face.
"Yes?" Frisco returned the smirk with one of her own. One thing she liked about being Nesai, she could really pull off the inscrutable smirk.
"That bird's watching us, yeah?"
Frisco's eyes narrowed even further than usual. "That was the plan, yes." With the patrol plane shadowing them, she and her cruiser division could bait the abyssal battlecruisers right into Arizona's plodding batteries. But Lou knew that. "Why?"
Lou shrugged. "No reason."
"Uh huh…" Frisco rolled her eyes.
"Figured you'd be used to it and all," said the light cruiser.
Prinz Eugen glanced from one American to the other, confusion plastered over her superstructure.
"Since…" Lou absentmindedly played with the tip of her flaming red ponytail. "You're a Cali girl and all."
It took Frisco a moment to make a connection. "I'm from San Fran! That's not even close to LA!"
Lou opened her mouth to vocalize a retort, but her interest in bothering her fellow cruiser vanished the same instant Frisco's ears suddenly perked up. Both cruisers blinked, and glanced over at the exact same spot on the horizon.
Prinz Eugen had heard about this before, but she'd never seen it herself. And while she understood the theory behind air-search radar—she even had a set herself—she was but a humble learner compared to the Americans.
"You—" Lou was almost immediately cut off by Frisco.
"I see 'em," said the tanned heavy cruiser. "Tally…" she clicked her lips. "Eight bombers, looks like six fighters."
"Fitz," Lou didn't even glance at the destroyer. "One-nine-four, maybe ten thousand off the deck, you have 'em?"
"Yep. Jammers on. Weapons release on Frisco's order."
"We got'em," Frisco heeled over in a turn, pointing her bow squarely at the howling jets. Her fingers twitched as her crew scrambled to man her five-inch mounts, and Lou was already wearing a wild grin as her 5in/38s slewed on target. "Weapons tight for now."
Prinz Eugen took a moment to fasten up her collar as her ten-point-five crews scrambled to their stations and her four-centimeter bofors guns tingled with anticipation. During the war, she'd done her sworn duty to her country with a… less than easy conscience. Now she got to fight on the side of the unambiguous 'good guys.'
"Prinz Eugen, Ready!" she called out for no reason beyond it sounding appropriate. Frisco flashed her a thumbs up, affirming her direction as the correct one.
The jets were easy to spot. Their mottled gray camouflage blended well enough with the sky, but the pillars of jet-black smoke they rode marked their location well enough. The jets peeled off to the side, probably trying to set up for a broadside shot, but Frisco heeled over to match.
The heavy cruiser kept the jets squarely off her bow as she closed the distance. Her beautiful almond eyes narrowed in concentration, and the corners of her lips twisted into a perverse smirk. "All batteries, fire!"
The bark of five-inch and ten-centimeter guns thundered over the south China Sea as all three cruisers unloaded unto the swarm. Prinz Eugen's time-fused shells might not quite match the killing power of the Americans' proximity fuses, but it almost didn't matter.
The howling jets closed the distance terrifyingly fast. The Swallows came first, rolling over in pairs to hurl themselves through the flak in power dives that could've been mistaken for falling stars.
Two fell upon Frisco, stitching the scarred American's deck with thirty-millimeter fire, forcing her gunners to duck and slashing her face with hundreds of shallow cuts. She threw up a hand to shield her eyes from the onslaught, and her Bofors and Oerlikons fired wildly into the fighters as they powered into what looked like a straight-vertical zoom-climb on pillars of coal.
The other four angled squarely for Prinz Eugen. Thirty-milimeter tracers were joined by the staccato yip of unicorn-nosed fifty-millimeter shells raking her flanks. She felt her skin tear as the rounds exploded against her decks, but other than smashed spotlights and ruined boats, the big cruiser sustained more pain than actual damage.
Then Prinz Eugen screamed as a bomb slammed into her deck, mangling one of her open Bofors mounts and tearing a gash into her pale thigh. The wound wasn't deep, but it was wide, and oily blood poured from her wound.
"FEUER!" She refused to acknowledged the pain, not while her friends were still in danger. A burst from her bofors found its mark, sawing off the offending sturmvogel's wing at the root and sending it smashing into the ocean.
She didn't dwell on the kill. There were still too many bombers and fighters to deal with. As the swallows arced around for another gun-run, the Blitzs winged over into their dives.
Like the rest of her division, Prinz Eugen threw her rudder hard over in an attempt to spoil their solutions. Her flanks erupted with wild barely-aimed fire. The sky above her had rapidly devolved into a mess of burning tracers, exploding flak, howling jets, and enough choking engine smoke to blot out the sun.
"Fitz, release!" barked Frisco.
Instants later, the destroyer's missile deck erupted in flame. For an instant, Prinz Eugen thought the ship had taken a hit. But then a rocket screamed from its cell and almost immediately skewered a diving Blitz right though the nose glazing.
The missile'd made it almost to the wing root before its fuse triggered, cracking the bomber open from the inside like a popcorn kernel.
Prinz Eugen was distantly aware of her own giggling, just as she was vaguely aware of something—a downed bomber? A near-miss?—splashing a few yards off her starboard flank.
The roar of missiles and their twisting trails only added to the confusion above, and Prinz Eugen couldn't spare the attention to keep track of it. She was focused sorely on making herself as hard a target as possible while giving everything above the surface a generous helping of flak.
And then, as suddenly as it'd began, the battle was over. The howl of jet engines vanished, the thunder of flak guns ebbed, and quiet disturbed by nothing more than waves lapping against steel once again took hold.
"Damage report," said Frisco.
Prinz Eugen took a moment to pat herself down. She'd lost one of her ten-fives, three of her bofors, her radar was damaged, and she'd have to avoid lemonade until the cuts littering her face healed. But she was still afloat and in good condition. "Prinz Eugen okay!"
"Lou's good," said Lou. "Had a minor fire, but it's under control."
"Fitzgerald here. Looks like most of the heat went to you."
"Copy. Check scopes," Frisco's gaze swept the horizon with cool efficacy while Lou did the same.
"Scope's clear," said Lou.
"I don't see anything," said Prinz Eugen.
"Fitz has nothing," said the steelhull captain. "Still got that watcher though."
Frisco smiled. "Good." She let out a painful fake cough as her stacks belched a gout of oily black smoke. Her bow dug in as she slowed to twenty knots and pulled the most uncoordinated turn Prinz Eugen had ever seen. She must've been steering with just her screws. "Come to new course. Cough." She didn't fake a cough this time. She just said the word. "head for Sledge."
"Nice acting, starlett," Lou rolled her eyes.
The cool, collected Frisco who'd lead the division though an air attack vanished, replaced by the easily-irritated Frisco Prinz Eugen found so cute. "I am from San Fran!"
Lou just smirked and tucked a loose strand of flaming hair behind her ear.
"Besides," Frisco nodded in the general direction of the island. "It only matters that they bought it."
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
It's about fucking time.
There are two ways to look at a Burke.
The first way, the rational way, is to look at a Burke 500 feet long and displacing 9200 tons, and conclude that the modern destroyer has grown to this size because it has assimilated the roles of DE, DD, CL, CA and BB into a single platform, carrying weapons to fight all threats at once.
The American way is to look at a Burke 500 feet long displacing 9200 tons carrying twice as many missiles as its closest allied counterpart, and conclude that America cheated, and lied her cute ass off when she said she was making destroyers, because compared to everyone else's destroyers, Burkes are cruisers.
("But they're not cruisers, honest!" says America, batting her cute blue eyes and shyly playing with a lock of her long blond hair, her fingers crossed behind her back. "They don't have flagship facilities and space for a commodore's staff, so they can't be cruisers!")
There are two ways to look at a Burke.
The first way, the rational way, is to look at a Burke 500 feet long and displacing 9200 tons, and conclude that the modern destroyer has grown to this size because it has assimilated the roles of DE, DD, CL, CA and BB into a single platform, carrying weapons to fight all threats at once.
The American way is to look at a Burke 500 feet long displacing 9200 tons carrying twice as many missiles as its closest allied counterpart, and conclude that America cheated, and lied her cute ass off when she said she was making destroyers, because compared to everyone else's destroyers, Burkes are cruisers.
("But they're not cruisers, honest!" says America, batting her cute blue eyes and shyly playing with a lock of her long blond hair, her fingers crossed behind her back. "They don't have flagship facilities and space for a commodore's staff, so they can't be cruisers!")
Last edited:
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
Last edited:
- Location
- Vancouver WA United States
NothingNow
Corpse Wrangler
- Location
- Tampa
And it's not like every other Burke variant doesn't already have them too.
OFC, If America is cheating South Korea is just being blatant about it.
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
so is japan... JS Atago i think.