Hmm, but and here is the but the other standards which are the Majority had 14' guns.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
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Hmm, but and here is the but the other standards which are the Majority had 14' guns.
Burning Baron
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And? Fourteen inchers ruled from a throne of battleship's main turrets for decades. They were perfectly designed for Standard Battle Doctrine. The Colorados got 16 Inch guns primarily because the Nagatos had them, and were suited for longer range shooting than 14 inch guns. In pistol caliber terms, it's the .44 Magnum compared to the .45 ACP. Besides, Warspite had 14 inch guns, and she has one of the longest battleship shots in history. Different guns for different roles.
Nagato Has the Armor,Speed,and Range on her Guns to stay effectively immune to 14' shells Barring plunging fire.
USA 14"/45 (35.6 cm) Marks 1, 2, 3 and 5 - NavWeaps
Armor Penetration with AP Mark 8
USA 14"/45 (35.6 cm) Marks 8, 9, 10 and 12 - NavWeaps
USA 14"/45 (35.6 cm) Marks 1, 2, 3 and 5 - NavWeaps
Armor Penetration with AP Mark 8
| Range | Side Armor | Deck Armor |
|---|---|---|
| 6,000 yards (5,490 m) | 17.2" (437 mm) | --- |
| 9,000 yards (8,230 m) | 14.4" (366 mm) | --- |
| 12,000 yards (10,920 m) | 11.9" (302 mm) | --- |
| 16,000 yards (14,630 m) | 8.9" (226 mm) | --- |
| 20,000 yards (18,290 m) | 6.7" (170 mm) | --- |
| Range | Side Armor | Deck Armor |
|---|---|---|
| 11,500 yards (10,520 m) | 18" (457 mm) | --- |
| 13,500 yards (12,350 m) | --- | 2" (51 mm) |
| 14,800 yards (13,530 m) | 16" (406 mm) | --- |
| 18,800 yards (17,190 m) | 14" (356 mm) | --- |
| 23,400 yards (21,400 m) | 12" (305 mm) | --- |
| 24,500 yards (22,400 m) | --- | 4" (102 mm) |
| 28,300 yards (25,880 m) | 10" (254 mm) | --- |
| 31,500 yards (28,800 m) | --- | 6" (152 mm) |
| 34,300 yards (31,360 m) | 8" (203 mm) | --- |
| 36,300 yards (33,190 m) | --- | 8" (203 mm) |
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Even so, Nagato's main belt was thin compared to the Standards' belts, with a thickness of 305mm. That's not going to protect very well against the 356mm AP shells used by the Nevada- through Tennessee-class Standards, which had pen values at or above 305mm out to ~23k yards according to NavWeaps.
Warspite used 15 in. guns.
Note that not only do the Nagatos have a 5-6 knot speed advantage over the Colorados, the Colorados do not have an edge in armor, in terms of taking 16" fire; they had exactly the same armor protection as the Tennessees (and, beltwise, the rest of the Standards), since they literally were just Tennessees with the three-gun 14"/50 turrets replaced with two-gun 16"/45 turrets.
Using NAaB, I'm getting the following immune zones:
Colorado, vs Nagato (before 1931): belt immune beyond ~27,000 yards, deck immune out to 20,650 yards
Colorado, vs Nagato (after 1931): belt immune beyond ~27,000 yards, deck immune out to 20,230 yards
Nagato, vs Colorado (before 1935): (VERY THEORETICAL, GUN PERFORMANCE EXTRAPOLATED FROM LATER DATA) belt immune beyond ~34,000 yards, deck immune out to 24,110 yards (this must be wrong, as the heavier shell issued in 1935 was supposed to have better armor piercing performance)
Nagato, vs Colorado (after 1935): belt immune beyond ~32,000 yards, deck immune out to ~22,500 yards
So it appears that, unless Nelsol and Rodnol had something special in terms of armor, none of the "Big Seven" actually had any immune zone against each other. (This shows why the Washington and London Treaties attempted to legislate 16" guns out of existence; they were an entirely new category of destructiveness that no battleship in the world was effectively protected against.)
Burning Baron
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Nope. Colorados got a 16 inch citadel belt around her machinery. Precisely because she got 16 inch guns. Otherwise, it is similar. But that citadel is what makes the difference.
Also not true. WNT was to limit the number and size of ships. London was to prevent an arms race, like there was in The Great War, you know, with things like Gas Bombs, and the Paris Gun.
Grounders10
Nine-Tailed Kitsune
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Wasn't that the impractically huge artillery piece the... French I want to say, built?
Burning Baron
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The Germans built it to shell Paris from Belgium. It was more accurate than they hoped, but it wore down fast. It was later upstaged by the Schwerer Gustav's.
Schwerer Gustav - Wikipedia
Nope, German-built.
Edit:
Annnd Albie'd by the fiery noble. heh.
What's your source on that? Because Norman Friedman, based on data taken directly from the US Navy's design records and repair files, state that they have the same 13.5" uniform belt as the rest of the Standards.
And both treaties had clauses prohibiting any new construction (except for the two Nelson-class ships that the RN was allowed as counters to the Nagatos) of new battleships with guns larger than 14". Indeed, the Brits tried to legislate that down further to 12" guns in both the First and Second London Treaties, but the US categorically refused to accept that. The reason for the "35,000-ton, 14" guns" treaty limitation was, plain and simple, because the 16" gun was in an entirely different class of destructiveness than anything seen before, and effectively rendered existing battleships obsolete because their armor could no longer tank hits from it. While it was officially to prevent the naval arms race (which, much like the nuclear arms race that resulted in the SALT treaties of the 1970s, was already ongoing even before WW1) from disrupting the peace and triggering another world war, the real reason that the various governments of the world agreed to it was that building large battle fleets was ruinously expensive, and doing so while trying to recover from the financial trauma of WW1 war spending would likely bankrupt them. By restricting guns larger than 14" to the small number of ships already in service with them, one could keep all those brand-new 14" battleships you'd just built up a decent-sized fleet of relevant and not have to tell the taxpayers that all that money was wasted and you needed to replace them already.
Your analysis is overly simplistic; both treaties were intended to try and halt the ongoing naval arms race. Washington, by ending the arms race in capital ships, instead managed to trigger an arms race in cruisers. First London was intended to halt the cruiser arms race and prevent one in lesser classes of ships, while keeping the capital ship arms race under control despite allowing new construction to replace obsolescent ships; Second London was originally meant to maintain control of the arms race while making cruisers smaller and less expensive, but Japan pulling out meant that it was really nothing but a bunch of flowery words that held no real legal weight, particularly as it eliminated total tonnage limits entirely. (Yes, it still had per-ship tonnage limits, but the old 5:5:3 ratio was gone, along with any other limit on how many total ships signatories could build.)
Really, the only true effect of the treaty system--beyond causing naval architects to go prematurely bald from struggling with those inadequate tonnage limits--was rendering capital ships Too Valuable To Actually Use, with cruisers ending up having to carry out what would have traditionally been considered battleship roles during the early parts of WW2. The Solomons campaign is a perfect example; if not for the LNT having wiped out the fleets of obsolete pre-dreadnoughts at the stroke of a pen, a large part of that campaign would have been fought by pre-dreads and early dreadnoughts pulled out of reserve, rather than cruisers, particularly on the US side. While the newest capital ships were generally Too Valuable To Risk in anything but a Mahanian decisive battle, the large fleets of obsolete capital ships were considered entirely expendable and could thus be assigned to truly hazardous duties without much worry; a fine example of this is the Royal Navy cheerfully throwing a large number of pre-dreads at the Gallipoli campaign, fully expecting them to be lost (and indeed suffering heavy losses as a result), because they were no longer useful in a fleet engagement role.
PAGDTenno
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Going by this, the Colorado can pen the Nagato's belt between 27,000 and 32,000 yards. So the Nagato is going to try to close to within 27,000 yards. Once within that range, the fight becomes "sudden death".
Just to double check, you are using the penetration curves based on the Mark 5 AP shell, not the Mark 8, right?
The shell hoists for the Colorado-class couldn't handle the longer, heavier Mark 8 AP shells.
Burning Baron
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Paraphrased from Breyer, Siegfried (1973). Battleships and Battle Cruisers 1905–1970. Doubleday and Company.Article: The "all or nothing" armor scheme introduced in the Nevada-class battleships was continued here, as throughout the Standard-type warships, with armor suite virtually identical to the preceding Tennessee class. The exception was an increase in belt armor near vital machinery to 16 inches (410 mm) to correspond with the increased main gun caliber.
As for the Treaty statements, I'll take it to the PMs, but here are the exact treaties.
Nicholas
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Though I'm sure I'll hate it in a few weeks, at the moment I'm pretty excited to have gotten an official work email for the Battleship Iowa.
This has nothing to do with BelaBatt, by the way. I'm just bragging.
This has nothing to do with BelaBatt, by the way. I'm just bragging.
Burning Baron
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So, not about the shell plushies?
Skywalker_T-65
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I'm exhausted and maybe not as lucid as I want to be, but:
16inch guns on the Colorado was a natural progression, more than a counter specifically to Nagato. The USN wanted 16-inchers for a very long time. Daniels just kept saying no. It did take other navies moving to 15/16-in to convince him to allow it.
But it was something the navy and design bureaus had already had in mind and been pushing for. Kind of like in Europe, how gun calibers kept going up in an attempt to gain qualitive superiority. And natural design progression.
Colorado being the first 16-in Standard is just politics.
I used the pen curve for the Mark 5 Mod 1 for the post-1935 Colorado-class gunnery; for the pre-1935, I used the program's curve for typical interwar USN AP ("Midvale Army" design) shells and the weight of the Mark 3, with the weight of the cap the same percentage of total weight as the Mark 5's cap, both shells having the same ballistic coefficient, and muzzle velocity estimated by assuming the same muzzle kinetic energy as the Mark 5 with the lighter shell--hence my caution that I'm pretty sure the results were wrong, even before seeing the Mark 3 being shown as a better penetrator than the Mark 5. (The results for the pre-refit Nagato gunnery is also probably off because I had to assume the same ballistic coefficient as the later Type 91 shell for the Type 88, but at least there, I didn't have to estimate cap weight or muzzle velocity.)
Note, however, that at the 27,000-32,000 yard range, you're more likely to get deck hits than belt hits... so the fight is already "sudden death" as neither ship's deck armor can withstand the other's guns at that range; each ship has a negative immune zone against the other, as the deck can be penetrated before the belt provides effective protection.
I personally question Breyer's veracity on that particular point, given Friedman's use of primary USN sources. While an interesting data point, I'd need to see Breyer's sources for that particular claim (and I don't have that book, so I can't look it up).
Regarding the treaty statements, it's interesting that the limits weren't codified into the Washington and First London treaties; my guess is that since Washington declared a capital ship construction "holiday" and First London extended it another five years (largely due to the Great Depression making NOBODY want to spend large sums on capital ships), it was felt unnecessary to actually write those limitations into the treaties themselves. I know that the only reason the Brits were allowed to build two 16" battleships under the Washington Treaty was to counter the two Japanese and three American ones that were "completed" when it was signed, and that only by sacrificing two older dreadnoughts in exchange (to maintain ratio parity), and that the 14"/35,000-ton limit was agreed to at Washington; indeed, the Nelsons were nicknamed "cherry trees" in the Royal Navy, as they were "chopped down by Washington" to fit under the 35,000-ton limit.
Friedman also documents that at the 1926 Vienna conference (which failed to produce a treaty), and both First and Second London, the British pushed for a 12" gun, 25,000-ton limit for battleships, due to a desire to reduce the cost of maintaining the fleet needed to protect their very expensive empire, as their economy never really fully recovered from the trauma of WW1 until WW2 had started, so...
Nicholas
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Lol no. It means I'm part of the staff rather than just a volunteer. I'm still a volunteer for the tour department, but I'm moving up in the organization for other things.
Burning Baron
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I already messaged you about that.
Omake: Fairynapping
Farmerbob1
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Fairy Napping IX
**
"Lace, the patient in room 604 has made a bit of a mess on the floor. Orange juice. Could you go mop it up?"
"Yes, ma'am." I nodded to acknowledge the floor nurse at the desk, and pushed the dust mop towards the cleaning supply cabinet. When I arrived, I swapped the dust mop for the big cleaning cart, replacing the cold water in the bucket with hot, then adding a couple ounces of disinfectant soap.
The patient in the room was completely out of it. She had apparently taken some painkillers and fumbled her drink.
The other patient in the room, all six pounds of her, was sleeping peacefully in her crib by her mother's bed.
While I was cleaning, one of my doctor fairies popped into existence on my shoulder, and I set him carefully on the bed. He balanced himself on the footboard, fished the patient charts from its hook on the end of the bed, and quickly flipping through it, taking notes on his own tiny notebook. Then he hopped up onto the sleeping woman's chest, and used a couple tiny medical instruments to check her vitals.
"Everything OK, doctor?" I whispered as I cleaned, all the while listening closely for approaching footsteps.
The white-clad fairy met my eye and nodded his head, seeming satisfied. Then he hopped to the floor, climbed up and into the baby's crib, checked the infant's vital signs, and made sure the sleep apnea monitor was properly connected. The last thing he did before jumping to the floor and approaching me was to check to be sure the little one's ear wasn't folded under the right side of her head.
As he walk-waddled on tiny legs in my direction, he was chewing on the end of a tiny pencil and examining his notes. He stopped a few feet short of me, and gave me a thumbs up. The baby was clearly in good health as well.
Suddenly, there was a muffled cry of anguish from room 603 next door. It was barely audible, but clearly there was some bad news being given to someone's family. And I knew what family it was. The Andersons.
The doctor heard it as well, put his notebook in his pocket, and looked at me expectantly.
I need four recon team members for escort duty.
At my internal request, four tiny green-uniformed marines popped into existence on my right shoulder, saluting me as I looked at them. A corporal and three privates.
"Get the doctor into the ceiling through the restroom and help him get to a place where he can listen in on the conversation in that room." I whispered, pointing at the dividing room between room 604 and 603.
The corporal nodded, the four marines all saluted me again, and then they hopped off my shoulder to the floor, rolling as they hit, making no noise. They waved for the doctor to follow them, and all five moved into the restroom with haste.
** An hour later, lunchtime. **
I leaned back into the couch, pretending to sleep so nobody would bother me as I consulted internally with my crew.
"What was the news with the Anderson family?"
My senior surgeon, Doctor Bailey, stood, withdrew his notebook, and looked at what he had written there before speaking. "Gail is not growing fast enough. They are almost certain her heart will fail completely before she is large enough to survive the operation."
I shook my head sadly. "Thank you for giving me the abridged version, doctor. Do you agree with their assessment?"
He stared at the notebook, then looked up at the ceiling for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying "Yes, and no. Gail is not large enough to insert tools into her heart through blood vessels, nor survive open-chest surgery." He paused. "If humans perform it."
The rest of the doctors in the room went utterly silent, then stared at me. It was very obvious what they wanted.
I didn't want to burst their bubble, but I had to be the voice of reason. "Do you really think that you can perform a more successful surgery than humans after only a few months of informal learning from the books we've bought and the surgeries you've watched? There's no insult here. You are smart, and you are learning fast, but do you really think you have learned enough?"
There was muttering, some in support of my caution, and others clearly disapproving of it.
Doctor Bailey took several seconds to arrange his thoughts before responding to me. "Solace, there is one thing that we've been able to do better than humans from day one. Sutures. Using our needle and thread, we can make cleaner, smaller sutures than any human." He waved a hand. "We've been experimenting on rabbits, as you know, and despite the sutures being so tiny, they do manage to hold firm. Something about our magical nature, I suppose, since there's no way any cloth as thick as spider silk strands should be capable of suturing large muscle tendons, even on an animal as small as a rabbit."
I shook my head. "But surgery isn't just about sewing people up. Even if you wanted to operate, we simply do not have access to an operating room and all its equipment. You could hide, but Gail couldn't. There is no way we could operate in secrecy, no matter how we tried to do it."
Doctor Bailey nodded, and raised a finger as he started to speak. "Solace-"
I spoke over him. "And what happens if the operation isn't successful? We have a dead infant in an abandoned operating room, with no human doctor taking responsibility for the surgery that had taken place without the parents' consent. The Andersons would go ballistic. The hospital would be sued. We might be discovered."
"Solace. You are missing one possibility." The doctor's voice was patient, almost condescending.
I tilted my head and stared at him, with slightly squinted eyes. My doctors were smart. "What am I missing?"
"We can work with the human doctors. They do the anesthesia. They open the chest cavity, cool her body and stop the heart. Then we do the repair. We work much faster than humans can, and the injury for access to the chest cavity need not be large enough to accommodate adult human fingers and hands."
I stared at him, shocked that he would even suggest that we break secrecy. After my surprise wore off, I took a deep breath, working hard to suppress my anger. "I can't let anyone know what I am. You know this."
Every doctor in the room stared at me, clearly disappointed.
Doctor Bailey met my eyes. "Solace. What exactly do you expect us to do, after we've spent a few years studying? When our knowledge of modern medicine is up-to-date? Will you continue to be a hospital cleaning lady, only allowing us to read charts and check vital signs of unconscious patients?" He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, then relaxed his fists and opened his eyes. "We're healers, Solace. Even the Marines have more purpose than we ever will if you never allow us to follow our calling. They, at least, are supporting us financially and improving public security by targeting gangs."
"They retired me." I whispered back. "Don't you understand? They wanted a warship when they summoned me. You've read about the others, just as I have. You've read about the summoning theories, about how some people think there are limits on the total of all shipgirl displacement. The other shipgirls all fight. I have no guns. If the military finds out I was summoned by accident, they might..."
I could hear my voice raising in pitch. Clenching my teeth, I looked down at the table. Then when I was more in control of myself, I continued. "...might scrap me. So they could summon a cruiser or a couple destroyers."
"Not entirely accurate, on a couple points."
I turned my head to see the speaker. Who had a voice I did not recognize. There was a loud shuffling of chairs and mutterings of confusion from the other doctors.
The speaker was completely out of place. She was a stranger. "A stowaway?" I whispered. "How did you get on board, and where on Earth did you get that ridiculous ancient costume?"
The woman in the ancient British sailor's uniform with tricorn hat reached her right hand up to her hat, bowing gracefully as she doffed her hat toward me. It wasn't a curtsey, it was a bow. "HMS Victory at your service, USS Solace. I'm afraid I do have to keep at least some of my secrets, but, fear not, I am also adept at keeping the secrets of others."
I spent several seconds trying to decide whether or not I should try to have my Marines capture the stranger and put them in the brig until I could figure out what was going on.
"Cat have your tongue? I'll talk then. You are aware that USS Vestal was summoned? She is not a combat ship. She has not been scrapped or unsummoned."
I snapped back. "Exception. Vestal can help fix shipgirl combat damage, get them back in the fight against the Abyssals. I don't have that capability."
The woman in the ancient uniform adjusted her hat and nodded. "That is true." Then she spoke again. "Another example. Were you aware that USS Constitution has also returned? While she is a warship shipgirl, she cannot stand against even the weakest Abyssal for long. What purpose does she serve? Why hasn't she been scrapped? She certainly displaces as much as a destroyer escort, or even some smaller destroyers."
That was a fair question. I took a few seconds to think before answering. "I don't know, but she has been in the news, doing public events, leading summoning ceremonies. She's also got a whole lot of history and I think that if the military brass tried to scrap her, the people would be very, very angry, and it would hurt the war effort. Not like me. Most people probably have no idea what I was or what I did in the war, despite my battle stars."
Victory nodded again. "Again, true in at least some respects, and fairly well-considered. Another example would be me. HMS Victory, flagship of Lord Nelson at Trafalgar. Like Connie, I cannot stand in a modern line of battle. What do you know of me?"
"You and Constitution do similar things. Morale boosting events. Helping summon others." I narrowed my eyes at her. "And apparently stowing away on other shipgirls. Somehow. For as-yet-undefined reasons."
"Ah. Well-said." The other woman grinned at me. "I would like to think that I also help other shipgirls deal with problems that are causing them issues."
"I don't need a shrink, if that's why you're here." I pointed a finger at her. "How did you get access, anyway?"
"That would be telling. There are things that I know that you do not yet. You aren't the only shipgirl asking about my purpose. Though, to be honest, your problems are a bit more mature than most of the others I have to talk to from time to time." The British girl displayed a lopsided grin. "Trying to get Jersey laid is proving far more challenging than I ever imagined."
"Trying to get Jersey-"
"Yup. You heard right." Victory laughed. "You should see your face. Hilarious."
I leaned back in my chair and took a moment to calm my expression. "So what are you here to say, or did you just show up for a friendly game of twenty questions?"
"Shipgirls are like humans in many ways, Solace." She tilted her head, slightly. "Or, should I say Sarah Olivia Lace?"
"Solace. Since you know who I am." I took a deep breath. "Are you going to tell-"
A graceful wave of her right hand interrupted me. "No, I will not. Your secret is safe with me. That is not my place to make decisions for you, though I'm more than willing to figuratively kick you in the keister now and again."
"Like Jersey's secret was safe with you?" I stared at her, trapping her gaze.
"You don't know Jersey. I promise you that her lack of being laid is no secret to anyone who knows her. The woman has zero tact, which is perhaps to be expected, considering her nature." Her eyes twinkled as they held mine. "I was a first rate ship myself once. Subtlety was hard for me to cultivate, and I'm afraid I still don't always do it very well, but I am far better at it than Jersey. Give her a couple hundred years and she'll probably mellow out a bit."
I shook my head and tried to get back to what was important. "So. Why. Are. You. Here."
"Do you have any idea how refreshing it is to talk to someone who can stay on topic?" She smiled gently, in a grandmotherly way.
This time I lifted my right hand and pointed my index finger at her. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know, as I'm not."
"Ouch. Definitely a point there." Victory's face grew very serious. "To help you make the right choice."
Responding quickly, I challenged her. "What is the right choice, and how do you know what it is?"
The gentle smile formed again. "Ah, now that is a mighty fine question indeed. The right choice is the one that lets you sleep at night. I don't know what it is. Only you do."
I put my elbows on the table in front of me, and kneaded the sides of my temple with my palms.
The voice of Victory continued. "If it's any consolation, you were well on the way to the right answer, I think. I just was in the neighborhood and decided to give you a little nudge."
Looking around me, I saw that the room was empty except for myself and Victory. I snapped my eyes back to her. "What did you do-"
Victory interrupted me. "Nothing. You were concentrating on me. Your fairies are a part of you, though they do have some independence, and don't share all they know. You don't need them for this decision, so they left us to speak alone. They, acting as your self-conscience, had already made their point, and made it well."
"Why now?" I waved my hand around in the air. "I mean, I've been in the world for months. Why did you wait for now?"
"Oh, dearie." The voice was calm. "Because this isn't an easy decision. You don't have other shipgirls to talk to, or humans to ask questions. You are trying to forge your own path. You're afraid. You're alone. You don't understand the world and how you fit into it."
As I watched, the image of Victory began to fade. "Wait!" I reached out a hand.
Shaking its head, the fading figure spoke again. "No, there is no need for me to wait. I have your measure now, Solace. You are lost and alone in an unfamiliar world. You are afraid for your existence if you should be discovered. You are bitter that you were set aside all those years ago, sold to be a passenger ship after you were no longer needed after the war." The voice paused. "But, despite that, I can see that you still understand your duty. That hasn't changed. You didn't need a job. Your Marines have made you wealthy stealing the spoils of smugglers and thieves."
I stared at the now ephemeral figure, digesting her words, while unable to form my own.
The figure finally disappeared completely, but Victory wasn't quite done talking. One last sentence drifted to my ears, almost inaudible. "Think about what I just said about Jersey, and what that could lead to, if she were human. Then take my word. She's human enough."
The implications were clear. I sat in my chair at the head of the long, empty table for several minutes, trying to decide what to do. No matter what way I approached it, I could only come to one conclusion. I summoned all my officers, medical and otherwise in order to lay plans.
** One hour later **
I knocked on the door in front of me, my stomach tied in knots. From inside the door, there was the sound of a voice. "Enter."
Turning the knob, I opened the door about half-way and made myself visible. "Director Stevens, may I have a moment of your time? It is important."
The moderately overweight woman who had once been a redhead, but had stopped fighting the grey years ago looked up at me. The irritation on her face was clear. She squinted towards me, clearly reading my nametag. "Lace, is this something that you should be addressing through building services? You aren't technically even an employee of the hospital."
"No, ma'am. This has nothing to do with my current job duties."
The older woman's eyes narrowed, and she stared at me with searching eyes. "Then you present me either with a mystery that I am almost certainly not going to enjoy, or with a reason to ask building services to provide me with a different custodian. Come in, sit down, and let us see which it is."
I closed the door behind me as I entered, then approached the chair the director had indicated, seating myself rigidly, trying my best to give the impression of seriousness.
"Lace, you have been with us for a couple months, and are one of the only custodians we have ever employed that I have never needed to complain about. The fact that I didn't know your name is a good thing. Because of that, I'm going to give you one more chance to walk out this door if what you are about to talk to me about has nothing to do with medical matters. Even personal issues with other hospital employees are to first be addressed to your supervisor. There is a chain of command for a reason. I and my team are extremely busy dealing with matters of life and death. Do you still want to speak to me?"
I dry-swallowed and nodded. "Yes. I do."
The director pushed her high-backed office chair away from her desk, and leaned back into the comfortable leather. "So, what do you wish to discuss, Lace?"
As planned, I lifted my palm in front of me, palm up, and summoned Doctor Bailey.
My conversation partner jumped in her chair, slightly. I saw her arm move towards the underside of her desk, but neither I nor Doctor Bailey moved. The director's hand slowly moved back to her lap, and her eyes fixated on the tiny white clad figure in my hand.
"Director Stevens, my name is not Sarah Olivia Lace. I am USS Solace, hospital ship 5."
The woman's eyes grew even larger.
I caught and held her eyes with my own. "Please, I beg of you not to make my existence as a shipgirl known to others. I was apparently summoned by accident, and I am not entirely certain what the Navy would do to me if they found out I existed."
The director blinked, then nodded. "I can keep a secret, as long as it is not a danger to do so." Then she removed her glasses and used a tissue to clean them, obviously stalling for time and trying to figure out what she wanted to say. After she put her glasses back on, she spoke. "Well, this is certainly not within the realm of what I expected."
Smiling back at her, I noticed that Doctor Baily, still standing on my palm, was also nodding his oversized head. I moved my hand to the edge of the director's desk, and he stepped onto the wooden surface before I spoke again. "I'm sorry to make your day more, err, interesting, but I hope that by the end of our conversation we'll be solving problems rather than finding new ones."
The director leaned forward in her chair and reached out a finger towards Doctor Bailey, looking at me. "May I?"
"Ask him. He's part of me but he's also his own man, to some extent." I looked down at the fairy in question, who was facing away from me, looking up at the woman leaning forward with the outstretched finger.
In a clear gesture, Doctor Bailey bowed in a manner that really shouldn't have been possible based on the mass of his head being at least as large as the rest of his tiny body. But he did it anyway, and when the bow was complete, he extended his right hand in a clear offer to shake.
Director Stevens stared for about two seconds, then tentatively reached forward with her index finger and touched his outstretched right hand. His arm pumped up and down, and her finger followed the motion.
As they shook hand and finger, Doctor Bailey spoke. "Hey. Heyheyhey. Hey. Heyhey. Heyheyheyhey. Heyhey."
After he had spoken, the director stared at the Doctor, then at me, clearly confused.
I needed to clear up the confusion. "Humans can't understand fairies. I'll translate. He said 'Hello and well-met, Director Stevens, I am Doctor Carrol Bailey, senior surgeon of the USS Solace.'"
"Fascinating." The director returned her attention to Doctor Bailey. "Good day to you as well, sir. I suspect you know more about me than I do of you." Her eyes flickered back up to me then down to the fairy. "Both of you. You have me at a disadvantage. But as fascinating as this is, I have a neonatal ward to manage, and my time is extremely valuable."
I considered my rehearsed words, then discarded them. "We want to help."
The director froze for a moment, gave me a sharp look, and picked a pen up off her desk. She started tapping it rapidly on her leg. "Help how?"
Doctor Bailey turned to look up at me, clearly irritated, met my eye, then turned back to look at the director. He knew what I was supposed to be saying, but he didn't do anything other than make sure I knew that he wasn't pleased with me going off-script.
"I have sixty doctors and two hundred forty nurses and orderlies on board who have medical experience. For the last couple months they have been evaluating their skills against modern medical knowledge while I worked here. They have offered absolutely no care during my stay, only watching and learning. They have discovered that in most ways, they are sorely lacking, but not in everything."
"Three hundred medical staff with World War 2 levels of medical knowledge." Her gaze shifted from me to the fairy doctor on her desk. "Are you civilian trained, or military trained?"
This was a question we knew would come up. "I'll answer for him. The doctors are all civilian trained. Most of the orderlies and nurses are military trained."
Doctor Bailey said "Hey!" and gave a thumbs up while nodding.
The director nodded. "Still, it will take years for you to brush up on your skills. But you know that. Why come to me now? No offense, but the medical needs of newborns are extremely different from the medical needs of battle-injured men."
"I did mention, director, that there were things that my doctors are confident that they are better at then human doctors."
The pen stopped bouncing on her leg, then resumed. "Go on. Explain."
"Fine dexterity work. Sutures. Working around veins and arteries. My doctor fairies see capillaries as being the size of major blood vessels."
"You can only make sutures so small before the tissue tears or the suturing material breaks."
Doctor Baily shook his head, then looked up at me, slight worry apparent in his expression. I smiled down at him. "I know doctor, I'll say it correctly, I promise."
"My doctors have absolutely not performed any surgery on humans, other than emergency surgery on the victims of the Abyssal attack on the pier where I was summoned. That said, they have been practicing - on rabbits I've been buying from pet stores."
The Director blinked, then nodded and leaned back in her chair again. "More details. Quickly, please."
"Even though their sutures are incredibly fine by human standards, roughly as fine as spider thread, they are resilient. Strong enough to reattach the leg tendons of rabbits and allow the animals to use them as soon as they recover consciousness. In addition, organ, artery, and heart muscle tissues that fairy doctors suture do not tear open over time. We have many post-surgical living rabbits that we are monitoring for problems, and many more frozen rabbit cadavers that can also be reviewed."
Once again, the director leaned forward. "Suturing and fine manual dexterity work are not the most important part of surgical medicine. Doctors have to understand what they see. No two patients are the same." She stopped momentarily, then continued. "You might start a surgery and discover something completely unexpected, which would then lead to an immediate need for a high degree of medical education to make a decision that might be a life-or-death choice for the patient. Your doctors don't have that degree of education. Not in the modern world."
I agreed. "We do not dispute that. None of my doctors believe they are sufficiently competent to handle any complex surgery." I paused intentionally. "Without supervision."
The director clearly understood my point immediately. "Without supervision, you say? So, what you are proposing is that your fairy doctors would only do fine manual surgical procedures at the direction of other, better trained human doctors?"
"Yes, Director, at least for several years, or until my fairy doctors can update their medical knowledge to current standards. Even then, there are times that larger bodies and greater reach can be useful, so we do not imagine any time at which fairy doctors would not be working with humans."
"You said that there were humans that your doctors treated after an Abyssal attack on a pier? Was that the attack in Newport News a couple months ago?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"And you have living and frozen animal studies of the work of your fairy doctors?"
I nodded again. "Yes, Director."
She leaned forward and looked at Doctor Bailey, pointing her pen at him unthreateningly. "And you and your fellow doctors are willing to take direction, and do as you are told?"
As I started to answer, Director Stevens shushed me. "No. I want his response."
"Understood, ma'am." I remained silent after that comment, so Doctor Bailey could provide an answer.
She turned her eyes back to Doctor Bailey. "Nod for yes, or shake your head for no."
Doctor Bailey nodded, calmly meeting the director's eyes.
"I'm going to have to go to the hospital director with this. I will not authorize it on my own. We will need to find some of the victims of that attack and review their medical records. If they were treated at the beach for significant wounds, someone should have noted the work in the records. We will also want to see the rabbits, both frozen and live. I will have them dissected by qualified surgeons to verify the skill of your fairy doctors. Before we let them assist with any human surgery, we will watch your doctors perform surgical procedures on living rabbits. All of these things will take time."
"Gail Anderson does not have much time, director." I whispered.
The director stared at me, comprehension clear in her eyes. "I see. Her condition is worsening, it is true. However, that does not mean we can abdicate our responsibilities to perform medicine ethically." She pointed at Doctor Bailey with her pen again. "Your doctor fairies may well be God's gift to fine dexterity surgical procedures, but I'm not going to allow them to touch a patient until we can review their work and see them doing live procedures on living animals."
I sighed loudly, then apologized. "I'm sorry to-"
The director waved her hand, dismissing my apology. "No need for that." She pointed with her pen at Doctor Bailey. "It's clear that even if he is a doctor, you are not, but you clearly have decision-making powers. You wanted me to keep this quiet. The quieter I keep it, the longer it will take for me to make it happen. The more people I can bring in, the faster we can evaluate the skills of your fairies."
Dry-washing my hands, I considered my only viable option before I said what needed to be said. "Do what you have to, but please try to only bring in people who can keep secrets."
"Lace, if this works, and your doctors and their skills are anything close to what you have advertised, your secret won't last long. Any complex procedure that would benefit strongly from what your doctors are offering will have at least six individuals in the operating room, at least four of them non-doctors. The hospital directors and most of the doctors will keep your secrets, but the nurses and orderlies tend to gossip. Especially about strange things."
There was the sound of squealing metal, and I suddenly realized I'd clenched my fists while they were gripping the tubular metal arms of the chair.
The director jumped slightly in her chair, then her eyes met mine. After a moment, she spoke slowly, gently. "This is clearly stressful for you. I'll keep your secret and let you go on your way if you like, and never mention this to anyone else. But if you choose for me to keep your secret, I'll have to ask you to leave the employ of this hospital. Knowing what you are, and what your doctors might be able to do, but not being able to ask you for that help would distract me to no end. Especially when patients that you and yours might have helped do not survive."
I looked at the damage I'd done to the chair arms. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It's a chair. I can get another." She smiled. "Or keep it as something to show my grandchildren after your secret finally comes out."
The director leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers below her chin. "Now, make your decision, Lace. Do I keep your secret, and you leave the hospital? Do I slow-walk this with as much secrecy as I can, and hope that Gail lives long enough for your doctors to help us help her? Or do I walk upstairs in ten minutes and speak to the hospital director and work with her to put some resources into making this happen as quickly as we can? We'll try to keep your secret, but no matter what we do, I guarantee it will be a rumor in a month, on the outside, and public knowledge in six months or less."
Looking down at the desk, I saw that Doctor Bailey had turned away from the director and was staring at me, very seriously. I sighed and reached forward, lightly tapping him on the head with a fingertip. "You knew this was going to happen like this, didn't you? I didn't have a chance."
Then I shifted my attention to Director Stevens. "Damn the torpedos. Full speed ahead. I'd appreciate as much secrecy as you can manage, but I can't make any other choice."
Director Stevens smiled. "Good. I hope that what you are offering lives up to expectations, but we'll know for sure within a few days. Gail should survive at least a few days, hopefully long enough to allow us to try to save her. Ethically."
As I provided the director with my home address and phone number, I lifted Doctor Bailey to my shoulder. He sat there watching the two of us talk, and I could hear him whistling very faintly to himself, clearly in high spirits.
**
"Lace, the patient in room 604 has made a bit of a mess on the floor. Orange juice. Could you go mop it up?"
"Yes, ma'am." I nodded to acknowledge the floor nurse at the desk, and pushed the dust mop towards the cleaning supply cabinet. When I arrived, I swapped the dust mop for the big cleaning cart, replacing the cold water in the bucket with hot, then adding a couple ounces of disinfectant soap.
The patient in the room was completely out of it. She had apparently taken some painkillers and fumbled her drink.
The other patient in the room, all six pounds of her, was sleeping peacefully in her crib by her mother's bed.
While I was cleaning, one of my doctor fairies popped into existence on my shoulder, and I set him carefully on the bed. He balanced himself on the footboard, fished the patient charts from its hook on the end of the bed, and quickly flipping through it, taking notes on his own tiny notebook. Then he hopped up onto the sleeping woman's chest, and used a couple tiny medical instruments to check her vitals.
"Everything OK, doctor?" I whispered as I cleaned, all the while listening closely for approaching footsteps.
The white-clad fairy met my eye and nodded his head, seeming satisfied. Then he hopped to the floor, climbed up and into the baby's crib, checked the infant's vital signs, and made sure the sleep apnea monitor was properly connected. The last thing he did before jumping to the floor and approaching me was to check to be sure the little one's ear wasn't folded under the right side of her head.
As he walk-waddled on tiny legs in my direction, he was chewing on the end of a tiny pencil and examining his notes. He stopped a few feet short of me, and gave me a thumbs up. The baby was clearly in good health as well.
Suddenly, there was a muffled cry of anguish from room 603 next door. It was barely audible, but clearly there was some bad news being given to someone's family. And I knew what family it was. The Andersons.
The doctor heard it as well, put his notebook in his pocket, and looked at me expectantly.
I need four recon team members for escort duty.
At my internal request, four tiny green-uniformed marines popped into existence on my right shoulder, saluting me as I looked at them. A corporal and three privates.
"Get the doctor into the ceiling through the restroom and help him get to a place where he can listen in on the conversation in that room." I whispered, pointing at the dividing room between room 604 and 603.
The corporal nodded, the four marines all saluted me again, and then they hopped off my shoulder to the floor, rolling as they hit, making no noise. They waved for the doctor to follow them, and all five moved into the restroom with haste.
** An hour later, lunchtime. **
I leaned back into the couch, pretending to sleep so nobody would bother me as I consulted internally with my crew.
"What was the news with the Anderson family?"
My senior surgeon, Doctor Bailey, stood, withdrew his notebook, and looked at what he had written there before speaking. "Gail is not growing fast enough. They are almost certain her heart will fail completely before she is large enough to survive the operation."
I shook my head sadly. "Thank you for giving me the abridged version, doctor. Do you agree with their assessment?"
He stared at the notebook, then looked up at the ceiling for a moment, before taking a deep breath and saying "Yes, and no. Gail is not large enough to insert tools into her heart through blood vessels, nor survive open-chest surgery." He paused. "If humans perform it."
The rest of the doctors in the room went utterly silent, then stared at me. It was very obvious what they wanted.
I didn't want to burst their bubble, but I had to be the voice of reason. "Do you really think that you can perform a more successful surgery than humans after only a few months of informal learning from the books we've bought and the surgeries you've watched? There's no insult here. You are smart, and you are learning fast, but do you really think you have learned enough?"
There was muttering, some in support of my caution, and others clearly disapproving of it.
Doctor Bailey took several seconds to arrange his thoughts before responding to me. "Solace, there is one thing that we've been able to do better than humans from day one. Sutures. Using our needle and thread, we can make cleaner, smaller sutures than any human." He waved a hand. "We've been experimenting on rabbits, as you know, and despite the sutures being so tiny, they do manage to hold firm. Something about our magical nature, I suppose, since there's no way any cloth as thick as spider silk strands should be capable of suturing large muscle tendons, even on an animal as small as a rabbit."
I shook my head. "But surgery isn't just about sewing people up. Even if you wanted to operate, we simply do not have access to an operating room and all its equipment. You could hide, but Gail couldn't. There is no way we could operate in secrecy, no matter how we tried to do it."
Doctor Bailey nodded, and raised a finger as he started to speak. "Solace-"
I spoke over him. "And what happens if the operation isn't successful? We have a dead infant in an abandoned operating room, with no human doctor taking responsibility for the surgery that had taken place without the parents' consent. The Andersons would go ballistic. The hospital would be sued. We might be discovered."
"Solace. You are missing one possibility." The doctor's voice was patient, almost condescending.
I tilted my head and stared at him, with slightly squinted eyes. My doctors were smart. "What am I missing?"
"We can work with the human doctors. They do the anesthesia. They open the chest cavity, cool her body and stop the heart. Then we do the repair. We work much faster than humans can, and the injury for access to the chest cavity need not be large enough to accommodate adult human fingers and hands."
I stared at him, shocked that he would even suggest that we break secrecy. After my surprise wore off, I took a deep breath, working hard to suppress my anger. "I can't let anyone know what I am. You know this."
Every doctor in the room stared at me, clearly disappointed.
Doctor Bailey met my eyes. "Solace. What exactly do you expect us to do, after we've spent a few years studying? When our knowledge of modern medicine is up-to-date? Will you continue to be a hospital cleaning lady, only allowing us to read charts and check vital signs of unconscious patients?" He closed his eyes, clenched his fists, then relaxed his fists and opened his eyes. "We're healers, Solace. Even the Marines have more purpose than we ever will if you never allow us to follow our calling. They, at least, are supporting us financially and improving public security by targeting gangs."
"They retired me." I whispered back. "Don't you understand? They wanted a warship when they summoned me. You've read about the others, just as I have. You've read about the summoning theories, about how some people think there are limits on the total of all shipgirl displacement. The other shipgirls all fight. I have no guns. If the military finds out I was summoned by accident, they might..."
I could hear my voice raising in pitch. Clenching my teeth, I looked down at the table. Then when I was more in control of myself, I continued. "...might scrap me. So they could summon a cruiser or a couple destroyers."
"Not entirely accurate, on a couple points."
I turned my head to see the speaker. Who had a voice I did not recognize. There was a loud shuffling of chairs and mutterings of confusion from the other doctors.
The speaker was completely out of place. She was a stranger. "A stowaway?" I whispered. "How did you get on board, and where on Earth did you get that ridiculous ancient costume?"
The woman in the ancient British sailor's uniform with tricorn hat reached her right hand up to her hat, bowing gracefully as she doffed her hat toward me. It wasn't a curtsey, it was a bow. "HMS Victory at your service, USS Solace. I'm afraid I do have to keep at least some of my secrets, but, fear not, I am also adept at keeping the secrets of others."
I spent several seconds trying to decide whether or not I should try to have my Marines capture the stranger and put them in the brig until I could figure out what was going on.
"Cat have your tongue? I'll talk then. You are aware that USS Vestal was summoned? She is not a combat ship. She has not been scrapped or unsummoned."
I snapped back. "Exception. Vestal can help fix shipgirl combat damage, get them back in the fight against the Abyssals. I don't have that capability."
The woman in the ancient uniform adjusted her hat and nodded. "That is true." Then she spoke again. "Another example. Were you aware that USS Constitution has also returned? While she is a warship shipgirl, she cannot stand against even the weakest Abyssal for long. What purpose does she serve? Why hasn't she been scrapped? She certainly displaces as much as a destroyer escort, or even some smaller destroyers."
That was a fair question. I took a few seconds to think before answering. "I don't know, but she has been in the news, doing public events, leading summoning ceremonies. She's also got a whole lot of history and I think that if the military brass tried to scrap her, the people would be very, very angry, and it would hurt the war effort. Not like me. Most people probably have no idea what I was or what I did in the war, despite my battle stars."
Victory nodded again. "Again, true in at least some respects, and fairly well-considered. Another example would be me. HMS Victory, flagship of Lord Nelson at Trafalgar. Like Connie, I cannot stand in a modern line of battle. What do you know of me?"
"You and Constitution do similar things. Morale boosting events. Helping summon others." I narrowed my eyes at her. "And apparently stowing away on other shipgirls. Somehow. For as-yet-undefined reasons."
"Ah. Well-said." The other woman grinned at me. "I would like to think that I also help other shipgirls deal with problems that are causing them issues."
"I don't need a shrink, if that's why you're here." I pointed a finger at her. "How did you get access, anyway?"
"That would be telling. There are things that I know that you do not yet. You aren't the only shipgirl asking about my purpose. Though, to be honest, your problems are a bit more mature than most of the others I have to talk to from time to time." The British girl displayed a lopsided grin. "Trying to get Jersey laid is proving far more challenging than I ever imagined."
"Trying to get Jersey-"
"Yup. You heard right." Victory laughed. "You should see your face. Hilarious."
I leaned back in my chair and took a moment to calm my expression. "So what are you here to say, or did you just show up for a friendly game of twenty questions?"
"Shipgirls are like humans in many ways, Solace." She tilted her head, slightly. "Or, should I say Sarah Olivia Lace?"
"Solace. Since you know who I am." I took a deep breath. "Are you going to tell-"
A graceful wave of her right hand interrupted me. "No, I will not. Your secret is safe with me. That is not my place to make decisions for you, though I'm more than willing to figuratively kick you in the keister now and again."
"Like Jersey's secret was safe with you?" I stared at her, trapping her gaze.
"You don't know Jersey. I promise you that her lack of being laid is no secret to anyone who knows her. The woman has zero tact, which is perhaps to be expected, considering her nature." Her eyes twinkled as they held mine. "I was a first rate ship myself once. Subtlety was hard for me to cultivate, and I'm afraid I still don't always do it very well, but I am far better at it than Jersey. Give her a couple hundred years and she'll probably mellow out a bit."
I shook my head and tried to get back to what was important. "So. Why. Are. You. Here."
"Do you have any idea how refreshing it is to talk to someone who can stay on topic?" She smiled gently, in a grandmotherly way.
This time I lifted my right hand and pointed my index finger at her. "I'm afraid I wouldn't know, as I'm not."
"Ouch. Definitely a point there." Victory's face grew very serious. "To help you make the right choice."
Responding quickly, I challenged her. "What is the right choice, and how do you know what it is?"
The gentle smile formed again. "Ah, now that is a mighty fine question indeed. The right choice is the one that lets you sleep at night. I don't know what it is. Only you do."
I put my elbows on the table in front of me, and kneaded the sides of my temple with my palms.
The voice of Victory continued. "If it's any consolation, you were well on the way to the right answer, I think. I just was in the neighborhood and decided to give you a little nudge."
Looking around me, I saw that the room was empty except for myself and Victory. I snapped my eyes back to her. "What did you do-"
Victory interrupted me. "Nothing. You were concentrating on me. Your fairies are a part of you, though they do have some independence, and don't share all they know. You don't need them for this decision, so they left us to speak alone. They, acting as your self-conscience, had already made their point, and made it well."
"Why now?" I waved my hand around in the air. "I mean, I've been in the world for months. Why did you wait for now?"
"Oh, dearie." The voice was calm. "Because this isn't an easy decision. You don't have other shipgirls to talk to, or humans to ask questions. You are trying to forge your own path. You're afraid. You're alone. You don't understand the world and how you fit into it."
As I watched, the image of Victory began to fade. "Wait!" I reached out a hand.
Shaking its head, the fading figure spoke again. "No, there is no need for me to wait. I have your measure now, Solace. You are lost and alone in an unfamiliar world. You are afraid for your existence if you should be discovered. You are bitter that you were set aside all those years ago, sold to be a passenger ship after you were no longer needed after the war." The voice paused. "But, despite that, I can see that you still understand your duty. That hasn't changed. You didn't need a job. Your Marines have made you wealthy stealing the spoils of smugglers and thieves."
I stared at the now ephemeral figure, digesting her words, while unable to form my own.
The figure finally disappeared completely, but Victory wasn't quite done talking. One last sentence drifted to my ears, almost inaudible. "Think about what I just said about Jersey, and what that could lead to, if she were human. Then take my word. She's human enough."
The implications were clear. I sat in my chair at the head of the long, empty table for several minutes, trying to decide what to do. No matter what way I approached it, I could only come to one conclusion. I summoned all my officers, medical and otherwise in order to lay plans.
** One hour later **
I knocked on the door in front of me, my stomach tied in knots. From inside the door, there was the sound of a voice. "Enter."
Turning the knob, I opened the door about half-way and made myself visible. "Director Stevens, may I have a moment of your time? It is important."
The moderately overweight woman who had once been a redhead, but had stopped fighting the grey years ago looked up at me. The irritation on her face was clear. She squinted towards me, clearly reading my nametag. "Lace, is this something that you should be addressing through building services? You aren't technically even an employee of the hospital."
"No, ma'am. This has nothing to do with my current job duties."
The older woman's eyes narrowed, and she stared at me with searching eyes. "Then you present me either with a mystery that I am almost certainly not going to enjoy, or with a reason to ask building services to provide me with a different custodian. Come in, sit down, and let us see which it is."
I closed the door behind me as I entered, then approached the chair the director had indicated, seating myself rigidly, trying my best to give the impression of seriousness.
"Lace, you have been with us for a couple months, and are one of the only custodians we have ever employed that I have never needed to complain about. The fact that I didn't know your name is a good thing. Because of that, I'm going to give you one more chance to walk out this door if what you are about to talk to me about has nothing to do with medical matters. Even personal issues with other hospital employees are to first be addressed to your supervisor. There is a chain of command for a reason. I and my team are extremely busy dealing with matters of life and death. Do you still want to speak to me?"
I dry-swallowed and nodded. "Yes. I do."
The director pushed her high-backed office chair away from her desk, and leaned back into the comfortable leather. "So, what do you wish to discuss, Lace?"
As planned, I lifted my palm in front of me, palm up, and summoned Doctor Bailey.
My conversation partner jumped in her chair, slightly. I saw her arm move towards the underside of her desk, but neither I nor Doctor Bailey moved. The director's hand slowly moved back to her lap, and her eyes fixated on the tiny white clad figure in my hand.
"Director Stevens, my name is not Sarah Olivia Lace. I am USS Solace, hospital ship 5."
The woman's eyes grew even larger.
I caught and held her eyes with my own. "Please, I beg of you not to make my existence as a shipgirl known to others. I was apparently summoned by accident, and I am not entirely certain what the Navy would do to me if they found out I existed."
The director blinked, then nodded. "I can keep a secret, as long as it is not a danger to do so." Then she removed her glasses and used a tissue to clean them, obviously stalling for time and trying to figure out what she wanted to say. After she put her glasses back on, she spoke. "Well, this is certainly not within the realm of what I expected."
Smiling back at her, I noticed that Doctor Baily, still standing on my palm, was also nodding his oversized head. I moved my hand to the edge of the director's desk, and he stepped onto the wooden surface before I spoke again. "I'm sorry to make your day more, err, interesting, but I hope that by the end of our conversation we'll be solving problems rather than finding new ones."
The director leaned forward in her chair and reached out a finger towards Doctor Bailey, looking at me. "May I?"
"Ask him. He's part of me but he's also his own man, to some extent." I looked down at the fairy in question, who was facing away from me, looking up at the woman leaning forward with the outstretched finger.
In a clear gesture, Doctor Bailey bowed in a manner that really shouldn't have been possible based on the mass of his head being at least as large as the rest of his tiny body. But he did it anyway, and when the bow was complete, he extended his right hand in a clear offer to shake.
Director Stevens stared for about two seconds, then tentatively reached forward with her index finger and touched his outstretched right hand. His arm pumped up and down, and her finger followed the motion.
As they shook hand and finger, Doctor Bailey spoke. "Hey. Heyheyhey. Hey. Heyhey. Heyheyheyhey. Heyhey."
After he had spoken, the director stared at the Doctor, then at me, clearly confused.
I needed to clear up the confusion. "Humans can't understand fairies. I'll translate. He said 'Hello and well-met, Director Stevens, I am Doctor Carrol Bailey, senior surgeon of the USS Solace.'"
"Fascinating." The director returned her attention to Doctor Bailey. "Good day to you as well, sir. I suspect you know more about me than I do of you." Her eyes flickered back up to me then down to the fairy. "Both of you. You have me at a disadvantage. But as fascinating as this is, I have a neonatal ward to manage, and my time is extremely valuable."
I considered my rehearsed words, then discarded them. "We want to help."
The director froze for a moment, gave me a sharp look, and picked a pen up off her desk. She started tapping it rapidly on her leg. "Help how?"
Doctor Bailey turned to look up at me, clearly irritated, met my eye, then turned back to look at the director. He knew what I was supposed to be saying, but he didn't do anything other than make sure I knew that he wasn't pleased with me going off-script.
"I have sixty doctors and two hundred forty nurses and orderlies on board who have medical experience. For the last couple months they have been evaluating their skills against modern medical knowledge while I worked here. They have offered absolutely no care during my stay, only watching and learning. They have discovered that in most ways, they are sorely lacking, but not in everything."
"Three hundred medical staff with World War 2 levels of medical knowledge." Her gaze shifted from me to the fairy doctor on her desk. "Are you civilian trained, or military trained?"
This was a question we knew would come up. "I'll answer for him. The doctors are all civilian trained. Most of the orderlies and nurses are military trained."
Doctor Bailey said "Hey!" and gave a thumbs up while nodding.
The director nodded. "Still, it will take years for you to brush up on your skills. But you know that. Why come to me now? No offense, but the medical needs of newborns are extremely different from the medical needs of battle-injured men."
"I did mention, director, that there were things that my doctors are confident that they are better at then human doctors."
The pen stopped bouncing on her leg, then resumed. "Go on. Explain."
"Fine dexterity work. Sutures. Working around veins and arteries. My doctor fairies see capillaries as being the size of major blood vessels."
"You can only make sutures so small before the tissue tears or the suturing material breaks."
Doctor Baily shook his head, then looked up at me, slight worry apparent in his expression. I smiled down at him. "I know doctor, I'll say it correctly, I promise."
"My doctors have absolutely not performed any surgery on humans, other than emergency surgery on the victims of the Abyssal attack on the pier where I was summoned. That said, they have been practicing - on rabbits I've been buying from pet stores."
The Director blinked, then nodded and leaned back in her chair again. "More details. Quickly, please."
"Even though their sutures are incredibly fine by human standards, roughly as fine as spider thread, they are resilient. Strong enough to reattach the leg tendons of rabbits and allow the animals to use them as soon as they recover consciousness. In addition, organ, artery, and heart muscle tissues that fairy doctors suture do not tear open over time. We have many post-surgical living rabbits that we are monitoring for problems, and many more frozen rabbit cadavers that can also be reviewed."
Once again, the director leaned forward. "Suturing and fine manual dexterity work are not the most important part of surgical medicine. Doctors have to understand what they see. No two patients are the same." She stopped momentarily, then continued. "You might start a surgery and discover something completely unexpected, which would then lead to an immediate need for a high degree of medical education to make a decision that might be a life-or-death choice for the patient. Your doctors don't have that degree of education. Not in the modern world."
I agreed. "We do not dispute that. None of my doctors believe they are sufficiently competent to handle any complex surgery." I paused intentionally. "Without supervision."
The director clearly understood my point immediately. "Without supervision, you say? So, what you are proposing is that your fairy doctors would only do fine manual surgical procedures at the direction of other, better trained human doctors?"
"Yes, Director, at least for several years, or until my fairy doctors can update their medical knowledge to current standards. Even then, there are times that larger bodies and greater reach can be useful, so we do not imagine any time at which fairy doctors would not be working with humans."
"You said that there were humans that your doctors treated after an Abyssal attack on a pier? Was that the attack in Newport News a couple months ago?"
I nodded. "Yes."
"And you have living and frozen animal studies of the work of your fairy doctors?"
I nodded again. "Yes, Director."
She leaned forward and looked at Doctor Bailey, pointing her pen at him unthreateningly. "And you and your fellow doctors are willing to take direction, and do as you are told?"
As I started to answer, Director Stevens shushed me. "No. I want his response."
"Understood, ma'am." I remained silent after that comment, so Doctor Bailey could provide an answer.
She turned her eyes back to Doctor Bailey. "Nod for yes, or shake your head for no."
Doctor Bailey nodded, calmly meeting the director's eyes.
"I'm going to have to go to the hospital director with this. I will not authorize it on my own. We will need to find some of the victims of that attack and review their medical records. If they were treated at the beach for significant wounds, someone should have noted the work in the records. We will also want to see the rabbits, both frozen and live. I will have them dissected by qualified surgeons to verify the skill of your fairy doctors. Before we let them assist with any human surgery, we will watch your doctors perform surgical procedures on living rabbits. All of these things will take time."
"Gail Anderson does not have much time, director." I whispered.
The director stared at me, comprehension clear in her eyes. "I see. Her condition is worsening, it is true. However, that does not mean we can abdicate our responsibilities to perform medicine ethically." She pointed at Doctor Bailey with her pen again. "Your doctor fairies may well be God's gift to fine dexterity surgical procedures, but I'm not going to allow them to touch a patient until we can review their work and see them doing live procedures on living animals."
I sighed loudly, then apologized. "I'm sorry to-"
The director waved her hand, dismissing my apology. "No need for that." She pointed with her pen at Doctor Bailey. "It's clear that even if he is a doctor, you are not, but you clearly have decision-making powers. You wanted me to keep this quiet. The quieter I keep it, the longer it will take for me to make it happen. The more people I can bring in, the faster we can evaluate the skills of your fairies."
Dry-washing my hands, I considered my only viable option before I said what needed to be said. "Do what you have to, but please try to only bring in people who can keep secrets."
"Lace, if this works, and your doctors and their skills are anything close to what you have advertised, your secret won't last long. Any complex procedure that would benefit strongly from what your doctors are offering will have at least six individuals in the operating room, at least four of them non-doctors. The hospital directors and most of the doctors will keep your secrets, but the nurses and orderlies tend to gossip. Especially about strange things."
There was the sound of squealing metal, and I suddenly realized I'd clenched my fists while they were gripping the tubular metal arms of the chair.
The director jumped slightly in her chair, then her eyes met mine. After a moment, she spoke slowly, gently. "This is clearly stressful for you. I'll keep your secret and let you go on your way if you like, and never mention this to anyone else. But if you choose for me to keep your secret, I'll have to ask you to leave the employ of this hospital. Knowing what you are, and what your doctors might be able to do, but not being able to ask you for that help would distract me to no end. Especially when patients that you and yours might have helped do not survive."
I looked at the damage I'd done to the chair arms. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to."
"It's a chair. I can get another." She smiled. "Or keep it as something to show my grandchildren after your secret finally comes out."
The director leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers below her chin. "Now, make your decision, Lace. Do I keep your secret, and you leave the hospital? Do I slow-walk this with as much secrecy as I can, and hope that Gail lives long enough for your doctors to help us help her? Or do I walk upstairs in ten minutes and speak to the hospital director and work with her to put some resources into making this happen as quickly as we can? We'll try to keep your secret, but no matter what we do, I guarantee it will be a rumor in a month, on the outside, and public knowledge in six months or less."
Looking down at the desk, I saw that Doctor Bailey had turned away from the director and was staring at me, very seriously. I sighed and reached forward, lightly tapping him on the head with a fingertip. "You knew this was going to happen like this, didn't you? I didn't have a chance."
Then I shifted my attention to Director Stevens. "Damn the torpedos. Full speed ahead. I'd appreciate as much secrecy as you can manage, but I can't make any other choice."
Director Stevens smiled. "Good. I hope that what you are offering lives up to expectations, but we'll know for sure within a few days. Gail should survive at least a few days, hopefully long enough to allow us to try to save her. Ethically."
As I provided the director with my home address and phone number, I lifted Doctor Bailey to my shoulder. He sat there watching the two of us talk, and I could hear him whistling very faintly to himself, clearly in high spirits.
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Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
Man. I was expecting silly fairy-ness. Not a full blown episode of MASH.
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Sorry, I tried to insert some funnies along the way, but my humor-writing skills are not as well-developed as my serious-stuff writing skills.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
I actually really enjoyed the tone here. It was perfectly fitting, given the subject matter.
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
Ah I figured as much but the real questions would be. How many times could Crowning get away with it? and how would she react if anyone else called her that?
Yes when I visit whisky I'll be sure to play various anime theme songs while walking around onboard.
Also Seeing Solace's Cover name makes me very much Look back at Richardson's late wife and well...
I think its the former.
Farmerbob1
Rest in Peace
- Location
- Atlanta-ish
Ah I figured as much but the real questions would be. How many times could Crowning get away with it? and how would she react if anyone else called her that?
Yes when I visit whisky I'll be sure to play various anime theme songs while walking around onboard.
Also Seeing Solace's Cover name makes me very much Look back at Richardson's late wife and well...
I think its the former.
I do not collaborate with TheJMPer, and my stuff is not canon. But I have no problem grabbing narratives and running with them.
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
I know that, but still, the mountain of circumstantial evidence in the canon stuff about the exact nature of Richardson's late wife certainly gives ones reason to think so. You're stuff gives a window into the possible ways for a shipgirl to be undercover. That and that one post from Lady Pearl involving Titanic makes me believe that Shipgirls could appear under certain circumstances outside of conflict/without being summoned. Scarily enough, it also makes me believe that an Abyssal could appear in much the same way...
That and I am very much an agent Mulder if ya catch my drift.
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