- Location
- Eastern Coast Fleet Command
Now I want to see Ark Royale at the Falkands fighting off Abyssals.
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Part 36: Firepower For Freedom.
- Location
- 'Murica
Part 36
Jersey settled down cross-legged on her bed, the striped bedding forming a comfortable crater where her mass dented it in. She had enough food in her to get her to Alaska and back, her belly was full to bursting with rice and chicken. Her uniform was freshly washed, and she'd spent the time to properly braid her strawberry-blond hair until it was magazine-cover perfect.
And most importantly, she'd convinced Goto to give her a half-hour of precious bandwidth before she and her girls shipped out. She didn't belove how easy it was to get her video-call request past his desk, anything that could manage that kind of dataflow had to behideously expensive.
The Battleship glanced down at herself. She zipped her vest down a bit more, before finally deciding to ditch the whole thing. It wasn't that chilly in her room, and she didn't like the way the puffy fabric was piling up around her waist.
There, that was better. Now she looked all perfect for her video call. The Battleship leaned over her borrowed laptop, staring down the tiny webcam as she waited for Crowning to-
A sharp ringing from the lithe black machine jolted Jersey back to reality. "Hey," she smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair back as she soaked in the image on the screen.
"Afternoon, Jersey," said Crowning. He was in his office—the Battleship could tell because the wall behind him was covered in nothing but musty old books.
"Evening, Doc." Try as she might, the battleship couldn't quite keep her cheeks from puckering in a smile. "Nice library."
Crowning shrugged, "Oh, you know… There's a few bookstores down in Seattle."
"Damnit man, you need hobby," said Jersey, her smile transitioning into an odd scowling sort of smile. "Look uh…" she bit her lip, her teeth glinting just so in the light wafting in though her window. "You hear about the mission we're running?"
"Yeah, Williams' uh, Williams' offered to let me watch from the CnC," Crowning frowned at Jersey, his calm, friendly eyes dancing up and down her consternated face. "You okay?"
"Sorta," said Jersey, "There's something… something I need to ask you. Before I, uh… before I sortie."
"Yeah?" said Crowning. He was suddenly the picture of careful attention, he sat forwards in his chair, his eyes wide and comforting as he somehow exuded hugs though the screen.
"Are my boobs too small?" said Jersey, clapping her hands to the relevant pars of her anatomy. Her real anatomy, not her steel hull… which was also kinda her body.
Crowning's mouth opened, then closed. Like a goldfish mouthing at the water, he simply stared at Jersey for a solid minute. "I…" his gaze drifted down for a brief second before coming back to Jersey's ice-blue eyes. "what?"
"Boobs." Jersey squeezed hers while offering a slightly doe-eyed plee, "Are mine too small?"
"What?" said Crowning, barely stifling a cackle as he ran a hand though his beard. "I thought you were… were going to tell me you're afraid to die or something."
"What?" Jersey scoffed, "Hell no, I'm a fucking Iowa. They're not gonna fucking sink this battleship. No fucking way!"
"Then…" Crowning shook his head, the collar of his half-zipped sweater just tickling at his—if Jersey was being objective here—quite handsome jawline. "But… Why do you need to know before you sortie?"
"'Cause I'm sorting with fucking Musashi," said Jersey. The battleship suddenly realized her hands were still glued to her chest and she abruptly dropped them to her lap. "Her tits are like… fucking basketballs! They're basket-tits! And she wears a fucking, like.. a pair of bandaids."
"And you're jealous?" said Crowning with a toying smirk.
"I fucking am not," snapped back the battleship. "And you didn't answer my question."
Crowning rolled his eyes, "You really know how to put a guy on the spot you know."
Jersey nodded enthusiastically.
"Fine, your chest is perfect," said the professor, "Perfect in just the way a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM isn't."
Jersey smiled. Then the left side of her face abruptly forgot what it was doing and scrunched up as her mind struggled to make sense of the second half of that sentence. "I… uh… what?"
Cronwing burst out laughing at the battleship's expression of utter befuddlement.
"Hey!" Jersey did her best to scowl. She really did. But somehow, she ended up laughing right along with him.
"You would not believe," said Crowning, his laughter ding to a mostly-controllable level, "The stuff some students will write."
"I choose to only remember the first part."
"Lady's choice."
"Hell fucking yeah."
"I regret my choice of words immensely," deadpanned Crowning.
"Fuck you too," snapped back Jersey, flipping off the little webcam with both hands.
For a moment, the two people, one flesh-and-blood, the other steel-and-oil shared a laugh. Jersey couldn't help but feel relief flood though her.
"You're really not worried about this?" asked Crowning.
"Hell no," Jersey waved him off, "I'm a Battleship, it'll take more then a fucking… an ice cube to sink me."
Crowning sighed, his lips pursed for a moment as he thought. "Still… when you get back, we're going somewhere nice-"
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"There's this place in Seattle that makes the most amazing pies."
Jersey froze, her mouth watering at the very thought. "Pies you say?"
"Pies."
"You're fucking on," said the battleship. She would've said more, but the tinny electronic chirp of her watch brought her back to reality. "Shit, uh… I gotta go do… battlethings."
"Knock 'em dead," said Crowning.
"That's the plan."
—|—|—
"Hey, Akizuki-Chan," Naka elbowed the anti-air destroyer in her armored corset, "you ever see Americans rig up for battle?"
The destroyer didn't even look up from the elevation flash-cards she was studying. "Uh… no," She shrugged, chewing on her lip as she poured over the the firing tables.
"You should watch," said Naka, her hands on her hips and a smile on her face, "They have a flair for the dramatic."
Akizuki almost threw the flash-cards on the water she looked up so fast. If Naka-chan, Idol of the fleet said something was dramatic, you listened.
As if on cue, the Battleship New Jersey stepped though the massive bulkhead door into the kanmusu pen. At least a dozen sailors surrounded her in a chaotic bundle, each seemingly wearing a different color sweater.
One sailor, one wearing a yellow sweater with the words "DECK BOSS" emblazoned on the back, waved the girl onto the water.
The rest of her entourage followed along on the mesh grating walkways submerged a few inches below the saltwater surface, and a pattern emerged from what seemed like chaos.
The ones in red and green carried air-tools, while the ones in blue managed the hoses to make sure everyone had enough slack and nobody tripped over anything.
Suddenly, the man in yellow, the Boss, crossed his forearms in front of his face, and the swarm of sailors leaped into action with choreographed precision.
The water frothed and bubbled as Jersey's rigging tore though the water. Six men grabbed the twin-stacked backpack as it came to rest on the battleship's spine.
More teams of six, this time in red, grabbed each of the massive turrets hanging from the ceiling cranes and wrestled them into place like they didn't weigh a thing. The whir of torque wrenches and the clack of latches slamming closed filled the air.
"Alpha hot!" barked one team, stepping back from Jersey's forward turret as one.
"Bravo hot!" the second was less than a second behind.
"Charlie hot!" All three of Jersey's massive main batteries were mounted, their enormous barrels yawing as the battleship stretched her muscles.
The Deck Boss pumped his fists in the air, the motioned to the rear. His crew responded as one, each one of the red-clad men filing back without so much as disturbing the green-clad sailors.
"Rig mounted, ma'am," said one of the men in green, his glove leaving a greasy hand print on the battleship's shoulder from the pat he gave her just before he stepped back.
The Deck Boss threw up a fist, then showed the palm of his outstretched hand to the battleship.
Jersey smiled, her rig let out two thunderous roars, BANG BANG and her fore stack belched smoke.
The Boss repeated the signal.
Two more enormous bangs, and the sound of turbines revving to full combat speed. The water around the battleship's stern churned to white as her screws bit into the water.
Again, the boss repeated the signal.
Just when Akizuki thought the noise couldn't possibly be louder, the battleship's rig let out another pair of enormous roars. The sound of her turbines was overpowering, a force not so much heard as felt as it thundered though the kanmusu pen. The destroyer felt her jaw drop in awe of this much sheer power.
And then the boss repeated the signal once again.
The battleship's rig let out another pair of thunderous bangs, her turbines roaring like a thousand angry gods smashing their swords against their shields.
"Eight boilers hot!" the Boss was yelling at the top of his lungs, and it was still barely audible over the roaring turbines. "Battleship New Jersey," he stepped back, dropping to one knee and thrusting his bladed hand at the open ocean, "On the way!"
Jersey's face erupted in a furious smile, "Firepower! For! FREEDOM!" she roared, her voice thundering even over the ear-shattering sound of her turbines. The ropes of muscle in her neck went taut, and her icy-blue eyes seemed to bury with the righteous fury of the most powerful nation on earth.
- - - - - -
A/N: Bit of a shorter update today, spent a while wrestling with a program that didn't wanna work, and it put me off the mood for writing.
Jersey settled down cross-legged on her bed, the striped bedding forming a comfortable crater where her mass dented it in. She had enough food in her to get her to Alaska and back, her belly was full to bursting with rice and chicken. Her uniform was freshly washed, and she'd spent the time to properly braid her strawberry-blond hair until it was magazine-cover perfect.
And most importantly, she'd convinced Goto to give her a half-hour of precious bandwidth before she and her girls shipped out. She didn't belove how easy it was to get her video-call request past his desk, anything that could manage that kind of dataflow had to behideously expensive.
The Battleship glanced down at herself. She zipped her vest down a bit more, before finally deciding to ditch the whole thing. It wasn't that chilly in her room, and she didn't like the way the puffy fabric was piling up around her waist.
There, that was better. Now she looked all perfect for her video call. The Battleship leaned over her borrowed laptop, staring down the tiny webcam as she waited for Crowning to-
A sharp ringing from the lithe black machine jolted Jersey back to reality. "Hey," she smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair back as she soaked in the image on the screen.
"Afternoon, Jersey," said Crowning. He was in his office—the Battleship could tell because the wall behind him was covered in nothing but musty old books.
"Evening, Doc." Try as she might, the battleship couldn't quite keep her cheeks from puckering in a smile. "Nice library."
Crowning shrugged, "Oh, you know… There's a few bookstores down in Seattle."
"Damnit man, you need hobby," said Jersey, her smile transitioning into an odd scowling sort of smile. "Look uh…" she bit her lip, her teeth glinting just so in the light wafting in though her window. "You hear about the mission we're running?"
"Yeah, Williams' uh, Williams' offered to let me watch from the CnC," Crowning frowned at Jersey, his calm, friendly eyes dancing up and down her consternated face. "You okay?"
"Sorta," said Jersey, "There's something… something I need to ask you. Before I, uh… before I sortie."
"Yeah?" said Crowning. He was suddenly the picture of careful attention, he sat forwards in his chair, his eyes wide and comforting as he somehow exuded hugs though the screen.
"Are my boobs too small?" said Jersey, clapping her hands to the relevant pars of her anatomy. Her real anatomy, not her steel hull… which was also kinda her body.
Crowning's mouth opened, then closed. Like a goldfish mouthing at the water, he simply stared at Jersey for a solid minute. "I…" his gaze drifted down for a brief second before coming back to Jersey's ice-blue eyes. "what?"
"Boobs." Jersey squeezed hers while offering a slightly doe-eyed plee, "Are mine too small?"
"What?" said Crowning, barely stifling a cackle as he ran a hand though his beard. "I thought you were… were going to tell me you're afraid to die or something."
"What?" Jersey scoffed, "Hell no, I'm a fucking Iowa. They're not gonna fucking sink this battleship. No fucking way!"
"Then…" Crowning shook his head, the collar of his half-zipped sweater just tickling at his—if Jersey was being objective here—quite handsome jawline. "But… Why do you need to know before you sortie?"
"'Cause I'm sorting with fucking Musashi," said Jersey. The battleship suddenly realized her hands were still glued to her chest and she abruptly dropped them to her lap. "Her tits are like… fucking basketballs! They're basket-tits! And she wears a fucking, like.. a pair of bandaids."
"And you're jealous?" said Crowning with a toying smirk.
"I fucking am not," snapped back the battleship. "And you didn't answer my question."
Crowning rolled his eyes, "You really know how to put a guy on the spot you know."
Jersey nodded enthusiastically.
"Fine, your chest is perfect," said the professor, "Perfect in just the way a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM isn't."
Jersey smiled. Then the left side of her face abruptly forgot what it was doing and scrunched up as her mind struggled to make sense of the second half of that sentence. "I… uh… what?"
Cronwing burst out laughing at the battleship's expression of utter befuddlement.
"Hey!" Jersey did her best to scowl. She really did. But somehow, she ended up laughing right along with him.
"You would not believe," said Crowning, his laughter ding to a mostly-controllable level, "The stuff some students will write."
"I choose to only remember the first part."
"Lady's choice."
"Hell fucking yeah."
"I regret my choice of words immensely," deadpanned Crowning.
"Fuck you too," snapped back Jersey, flipping off the little webcam with both hands.
For a moment, the two people, one flesh-and-blood, the other steel-and-oil shared a laugh. Jersey couldn't help but feel relief flood though her.
"You're really not worried about this?" asked Crowning.
"Hell no," Jersey waved him off, "I'm a Battleship, it'll take more then a fucking… an ice cube to sink me."
Crowning sighed, his lips pursed for a moment as he thought. "Still… when you get back, we're going somewhere nice-"
"Oh, you don't have to-"
"There's this place in Seattle that makes the most amazing pies."
Jersey froze, her mouth watering at the very thought. "Pies you say?"
"Pies."
"You're fucking on," said the battleship. She would've said more, but the tinny electronic chirp of her watch brought her back to reality. "Shit, uh… I gotta go do… battlethings."
"Knock 'em dead," said Crowning.
"That's the plan."
—|—|—
"Hey, Akizuki-Chan," Naka elbowed the anti-air destroyer in her armored corset, "you ever see Americans rig up for battle?"
The destroyer didn't even look up from the elevation flash-cards she was studying. "Uh… no," She shrugged, chewing on her lip as she poured over the the firing tables.
"You should watch," said Naka, her hands on her hips and a smile on her face, "They have a flair for the dramatic."
Akizuki almost threw the flash-cards on the water she looked up so fast. If Naka-chan, Idol of the fleet said something was dramatic, you listened.
As if on cue, the Battleship New Jersey stepped though the massive bulkhead door into the kanmusu pen. At least a dozen sailors surrounded her in a chaotic bundle, each seemingly wearing a different color sweater.
One sailor, one wearing a yellow sweater with the words "DECK BOSS" emblazoned on the back, waved the girl onto the water.
The rest of her entourage followed along on the mesh grating walkways submerged a few inches below the saltwater surface, and a pattern emerged from what seemed like chaos.
The ones in red and green carried air-tools, while the ones in blue managed the hoses to make sure everyone had enough slack and nobody tripped over anything.
Suddenly, the man in yellow, the Boss, crossed his forearms in front of his face, and the swarm of sailors leaped into action with choreographed precision.
The water frothed and bubbled as Jersey's rigging tore though the water. Six men grabbed the twin-stacked backpack as it came to rest on the battleship's spine.
More teams of six, this time in red, grabbed each of the massive turrets hanging from the ceiling cranes and wrestled them into place like they didn't weigh a thing. The whir of torque wrenches and the clack of latches slamming closed filled the air.
"Alpha hot!" barked one team, stepping back from Jersey's forward turret as one.
"Bravo hot!" the second was less than a second behind.
"Charlie hot!" All three of Jersey's massive main batteries were mounted, their enormous barrels yawing as the battleship stretched her muscles.
The Deck Boss pumped his fists in the air, the motioned to the rear. His crew responded as one, each one of the red-clad men filing back without so much as disturbing the green-clad sailors.
"Rig mounted, ma'am," said one of the men in green, his glove leaving a greasy hand print on the battleship's shoulder from the pat he gave her just before he stepped back.
The Deck Boss threw up a fist, then showed the palm of his outstretched hand to the battleship.
Jersey smiled, her rig let out two thunderous roars, BANG BANG and her fore stack belched smoke.
The Boss repeated the signal.
Two more enormous bangs, and the sound of turbines revving to full combat speed. The water around the battleship's stern churned to white as her screws bit into the water.
Again, the boss repeated the signal.
Just when Akizuki thought the noise couldn't possibly be louder, the battleship's rig let out another pair of enormous roars. The sound of her turbines was overpowering, a force not so much heard as felt as it thundered though the kanmusu pen. The destroyer felt her jaw drop in awe of this much sheer power.
And then the boss repeated the signal once again.
The battleship's rig let out another pair of thunderous bangs, her turbines roaring like a thousand angry gods smashing their swords against their shields.
"Eight boilers hot!" the Boss was yelling at the top of his lungs, and it was still barely audible over the roaring turbines. "Battleship New Jersey," he stepped back, dropping to one knee and thrusting his bladed hand at the open ocean, "On the way!"
Jersey's face erupted in a furious smile, "Firepower! For! FREEDOM!" she roared, her voice thundering even over the ear-shattering sound of her turbines. The ropes of muscle in her neck went taut, and her icy-blue eyes seemed to bury with the righteous fury of the most powerful nation on earth.
- - - - - -
A/N: Bit of a shorter update today, spent a while wrestling with a program that didn't wanna work, and it put me off the mood for writing.
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Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
Because when it comes to managing the complexities of launching a multi-million dollar piece of killware, the deck-crews that handle the catapult-shots on US supercarriers take a back seat to absofuckinglutely nobody. 
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
Couple corrections:
Other than that, funny and epic story post. Now threadmark it.
- Location
- United States, EST
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Whir of the torque wrenches and... uh, something, I presume?
Anyways, good chapter, very cool rigging sequence.
Because when it comes to managing the complexities of launching a multi-million dollar piece of killware, the deck-crews that handle the catapult-shots on US supercarriers take a back seat to absofuckinglutely nobody.
Those guys are based on actual trained groups? Even better.
- Location
- 'Murica
Yup. Carrier deck apes. It's like ballet, but you still get to kill something.Those guys are based on actual trained groups? Even better.
Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
Yup. Partially Sendai'd by the OP, but the giveaway is in the colour-coding of the different crews — US carrier deck-personnel have a similar scheme.Those guys are based on actual trained groups? Even better.
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
The first half was all sorts of awkward, funny, and d'aww. Jersey dolling herself up in such a Jersey manner was really cute. Plus being more concerned with boob size than sinking had me cracking up. Never change m'lady.
And she has no reason to be worried. As she so said: she's a fucking Iowa-Class.And now Crowning has asked our Lady J on a date. My grin is positively shit-eating.
Second half? Fucking. Epic. Naka wasn't kidding. Nor reaching. That was bloody awesome.
As for the program? Tough break man. I know that feeling all too well. Hopefully it'll stop giving you the runaround sooner than later.
- Location
- Eastern Coast Fleet Command
8 boilers, God the 1940s was such a old time (and boiler startups are much louder than MTG startups or MPU startups). Great chapter, lets let the battle against the enemy flagship begin.
The Yamato class, there for Musashi, had twelve boilers.
Selonianth
Writer of Words
Mind, she COULD just manifest her rigging but well... no need to not let them have their fun right?
- Location
- 'Murica
She can just manifest her rigging, but it's easier to do it right. Having her crew helping her rig-up gets her psyched up and guarantees she'll be working at tip-top condition. It's basically the difference between "There's japs in the air RIGHT NOW, GET MOVING" and a controlled engine start up.
Trace Coburn
BattleTech Starfighter Analyst
- Location
- NDBBM, New Zealand
Plus I'd expect it's less strain on the rigging/shipgirl to go easy on the Magical Sparkly Shipgirl Bullshit (MSSB) and rig-up in this prepared, structured, long-form fashion. Instant manifestation can be done, but it's an emergency measure, because it's probably rough on both shipgirl and rigging, not to mention drawing a lot of MSSB/energy.
EDIT: Frak! Sendai'd while typing. Again!
EDIT: Frak! Sendai'd while typing. Again!
GhostStalker
Jeopardy! contestant
- Location
- NYC
I think this should be CIC, for Combat Information Center.
- Location
- 'Murica
I know that. You know that. But Crowning's a Lit Prof.
- Location
- United States
CnC is short-hand for Command and Control, so both could be applicable although CIC is probably the more technically correct term.
GhostStalker
Jeopardy! contestant
- Location
- NYC
Ah, true. Forgot how much of a combat noob he is.
Also, meant to ask you this a while ago, but did you take the name Goto for the Japanese admiral at Yokosuka from planefriend's KCQ? I know you follow it, as you've stated as much, but I wasn't sure if it was a deliberate reference or just a thing where people decide to name their Admirals Goto or something like that.
Speaking of KCQ, wonder if you've seen pixelfag's drawings of Taffy 3 that have been posted in some of those threads on /tg/? I figure you didn't commission them yourself since Taffy 3 is a popular enough subject for KanColle fics with US ships, so he probably made them for someone else. But do you think they fit your versions of Taffy 3 well? I dunno if he's done a New Jersey or White Plains or Washington yet, though. And of course, his Arizona that he did for KCQ is likely not the way Arizona looks in your fic here.
Fair enough, I'm just so used to seeing CIC that I figured it was a mistake. Also, makes me think of Command & Conquer.
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- Location
- 'Murica
I have see his Taffies. His Sammy is just about spot-on, but I actually have art of my taffies. It's buried somewhere in the thread, so I'll repost it here (and the one of Jersey too).
Mind you, they're pretty terrible drawings because I did them.
Taffies!
Jersey!
Also, some fanart of Jersey! Her outfit's not quite canon, but the art's miles better than what I can do!
Source
Mind you, they're pretty terrible drawings because I did them.
Taffies!
Jersey!
Also, some fanart of Jersey! Her outfit's not quite canon, but the art's miles better than what I can do!
Source
GhostStalker
Jeopardy! contestant
- Location
- NYC
Yeah, I remember you posting and me seeing those in this thread before. I just asked because I saw someone posting pixelfag's versions of Taffy 3 in the last KCQ thread and was curious of your thoughts on them.
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Strangely, I can't help but imagine BelBatt Arizona as looking somewhat like a slightly bustier version of the one in KanColle: Pacific.
- Location
- Eastern Coast Fleet Command
Tiny boilers, so low pressure (for tiger), and 12 boilers. My god I thought enterprise had a horrible setup and enterprise is a fairly 1-1 swap with the reactor replacing a boiler.
Man as a modern super wamodyne modern guy, ugh. NJ would be the ultimate watch supervision test.
Man as a modern super wamodyne modern guy, ugh. NJ would be the ultimate watch supervision test.
- Location
- 'Murica
Well, the art's pretty freaking awesome! I love all the cockiness they all exude. My only big complaint is that Johnston's missing her headress. That, and they aren't quite stacked enough for Fubuki's suffering to make sense.
More than "slightly" enough to make Jersey suffer!
Although now that you mention it, Jersey actually is somewhat based off her counterpart from Pacific. BelaBatt!Jersey's a bit flatter and a bit thicker in the hips, but both girls have the same hair and eyes. BelaBatt!Jersey's face isn't quite the same either, she's more scowly and badass than beauty queen.