It's supposed to be a little bit funny and a little bit heartwarming. I mean, Jersey is using her second chance with Crowning to the max (even if it sometimes grosses out the Taffies what their Momboat and Dadboat do at times). But I find the idea of Yamato owning a highly successful hotel chain to be hilarious.D'aww... I know it's more funny than heartwarming, but it still makes me feel all fuzzy inside.![]()
*sign* Nobody thinks aboutBut I find the idea of Yamato owning a highly successful hotel chain to be hilarious.
They were seagoing castles, with a monolithic tower mounted aft of their three triple turrets. There wasn't a hint of grace or elegance to their design, nothing but pure malice radiated from their scarred hulls. War machines with all the finesse of a sledgehammer. Like someone had dug up a medieval castle and somehow made it float. "I'm guessing those are NelRods?"
A pair of battleships steamed in line abreast. These ones didn't have quite the same concentrated hatred as the NelRods, but they did have the same monolithic bunker superstructure. They carried three turrets in the same layout as Jersey herself did, but there were two quadruple turrets and a twin. "KGVs?"
Nelson/Rodney? King George V? HMS Habbakuk?"Project Habakkuk," said Jersey, "A secret project to make an unsinkable aircraft carrier from… from ice and wood pulp."
Nah, there was one IJN dreadnaught before, a Kawachi. The Abyssals are pulling out the WunderWaffen now, while still trying to fit within the 'big battlewagons' theme of the overall story. Otherwise, they'd just probably spam the Re-class Iowa-Essex nightmare combo, Elektroboot/Tench wolfpacks, or a USS Midway with jet aircraft. After this, the possibilities are: the H-class proposals, Montana, Super Yamato, or HMSVanguard.Hoppo and Abyssals all secretly Angry British Ex-Pats? BelBat!Abyssals not actually pseudo-WWII Americans, but hungover Football Hooligans?
Good Omake but I see two problems.Peace, peace of the grave perhaps but peace none the less. She had served, she had been injured, and then repaired she had returned and fought like a tiger. Afterwards she was retired with honor and then scrapped, her parts reconstituted to be made into something else
The peace and calm was shattered by explosions even as the klaxon started sounding General Quarters, screams reached her just like the day the war started. Oil pooled and flowed along the top of the water the same as it had that day, like blood.
Cries, for help, in pain, she could hear them calling out in desperation, and she couldn't ignore it. She had to help them, and then she felt it.
She was once more on the surface, her legs long and solid, hips gently curved up from them to a washboard set of abs before sloping out for a generous bust line. Strong muscled arms held a lever action shotgun one handed by the stock in her right hand and a large revolver sat in her left. Her clothes were a knee length skirt of battleship grey with a midriff cut mid-shipman's blouse. A red beret topped a mass of brown curls over a heart shaped face, brown eyes looked about and suddenly the shotgun rose. Her three-inch anti-aircraft cannon, along with the forty millimeter quads rose as well before she opened fire trying to sweep the abyssal aircraft from her skies.
West Virginia stepped from the waters of battleship row to the pier, her left hand darted about snapping off rounds from the revolver as she racked the lever of the shotgun one handed. Small plains zoomed around what had once been battleship row and as the shotgun lined up with a mass of them making a bombing run against one of the ships there she fired, the shotgun and the three-inch gun blasting the group of them from the sky.
Finally, after what seemed like hours and had probably only been a few moments the planes left, because the damage was done. The harbor was surrounded in flames as fuel stores and buildings burned, around her people ran to and fro tending to the wounded and trying to quench the fires, and then it struck her. She was human, and yet she was still BB-48, the USS West Virginia, a Colorado class battleship. Slinging the shotgun muzzle down she ran to help with the wounded, she might not be much help at the moment, but she would do what she could.
Can't be. Re's aircraft aren't harriers, but 'flying fish' dive bombers. Her torpedo is a midget submarine. That thing is a one-woman Fast Battleship-escorted Carrier Task Force.The Re-class seems to be based upon the Battleship New Jersey proposal with Harrier jump jets taking off from her rear hangar deck, but actually potent in combat.
FTFY.
Can't be. Re's aircraft aren't harriers, but 'flying fish' dive bombers. Her torpedo is a midget submarine. That thing is a one-woman Fast Battleship-escorted Carrier Task Force.
"I'm guessing those are NelRods?"
Ooyodo nodded, "That's what we think. Iku reports there's at least three, possibly four."
On the subject of the British!Abyssals...
That implies three or four Rodnols. Considering only two were built, and there weren't more planned, that would imply they might not be Nelsol and Rodnol, but Abyssalized versions of their class instead. At least, to me.
Panic levels at SB? Let's use fucking FOOF to sink it!
*Giggles uncontrollably at what he had posted*Panic levels at SB? Let's use fucking FOOF to sink it!
So it's an, meh.
The same way they use to store the stuff. And just push the cans out the back of a cargo bay...But how would you keep it from melting through whatever you're transporting it? Isn't Dioxygen difluoride highly reactive?
You have no idea... here, let me post some stuff from a blog about Dr. A. G Streng of Temple University. Back in the 60s he decided to run a bunch of experiments involving FOOF and how it reacts to stuff. Some bits that I've saved from the blog in question:But how would you keep it from melting through whatever you're transporting it? Isn't Dioxygen difluoride highly reactive?
Not only did Streng prepare multiple batches of dioxygen difluoride and keep it around, he was apparently charged with finding out what it did to things. All sorts of things. One damn thing after another, actually:
"Being a high energy oxidizer, dioxygen difluoride reacted vigorously with organic compounds, even at temperatures close to its melting point. It reacted instantaneously with solid ethyl alcohol, producing a blue flame and an explosion. When a drop of liquid 02F2 was added to liquid methane, cooled at 90°K., a white flame was produced instantaneously, which turned green upon further burning. When 0.2 (mL) of liquid 02F2 was added to 0.5 (mL) of liquid CH4 at 90°K., a violent explosion occurred."
And he's just getting warmed up, if that's the right phrase to use for something that detonates things at -180C (that's -300 Fahrenheit, if you only have a kitchen thermometer). The great majority of Streng's reactions have surely never been run again. The paper goes on to react FOOF with everything else you wouldn't react it with: ammonia ("vigorous", this at 100K), water ice (explosion, natch), chlorine ("violent explosion", so he added it more slowly the second time), red phosphorus (not good), bromine fluoride, chlorine trifluoride (say what?), perchloryl fluoride (!), tetrafluorohydrazine (how on Earth. . .), and on, and on. If the paper weren't laid out in complete grammatical sentences and published in JACS, you'd swear it was the work of a violent lunatic. I ran out of vulgar expletives after the second page. A. G. Streng, folks, absolutely takes the corrosive exploding cake, and I have to tip my asbestos-lined titanium hat to him.
Even Streng had to give up on some of the planned experiments, though (bonus dormitat Strengus?). Sulfur compounds defeated him, because the thermodynamics were just too titanic. Hydrogen sulfide, for example, reacts with four molecules of FOOF to give sulfur hexafluoride, 2 molecules of HF and four oxygens. . .and 433 kcal [ed. per mole], which is the kind of every-man-for-himself exotherm that you want to avoid at all cost. The sulfur chemistry of FOOF remains unexplored, so if you feel like whipping up a batch of Satan's kimchi, go right ahead.
All The Tropes, abbreviated to ATT. San Fran already mentioned it.