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Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]

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I say build a CAG with modernized Des Moines armor. Modern design—with 8" guns—and armor that can actually stand up to small arms fire (look it up for modern DDGs).
Besides, when the war's over, then what? Radar is not useless anymore so missiles come back into play and guns get pushed out, so best have a ship that can still be used.
 
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Modern gun-fighting ships would get shat on though. There's a reason we don't build them anymore. You want super-heavy AShMs like Granits.
 
You know, I just gotta wonder how ravenous one of Des Moines sisters would be. I think they'd be able to out-eat standards like Texas and Ari. Not Jerjer though. I don't think anything can out eat Jerjer... okay maybe Shinna but that's a big maybe.
 
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Winter War
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    • The Snow Queen clenched her craggy teeth, barely holding back the roar of anger building in her throat. She should turn back, she knew. Two of her mightiest warships had been destroyed—not even destroyed, obliterated. The spawn of her very womb had been wiped off this earth without a thought, without a moment's hesitation by her traitorous foe.

    Yet another of her mighty demons was naught but a crippled hulk. A toothless corpse barely capable of even limping to a graving dock for repair. Her screen had been savaged, her air cover decimated, by all reasonable logic she should abandon her pursuit and break for friendly territory.

    If only that was an option. Her fortress had been picked clean before she left, turning back only meant that—if by some miracle her bunkers lasted long enough to complete the journey—she'd have the luxury of starving to death in a familiar surround. The battle with that traitorous battleship had slackened her appetite somewhat, but after dividing the spoils between her vast armada, the Snow Queen's share had been pitifully short.

    She glanced at her sister. The princess was thick with child, her face a pallid mask of agony as she clutched at her swollen belly. Not cradled, but clutched. Her demons were full-grown now, hungry and ready for the hunt. The torment of labor was upon her now, and there was only so long the Princess could resist. In time, her hungry demons would simply tear their way free.

    There was no other option. The Snow Queen grit her teeth and pulled her vast greatcoat smooth. It had to be Pearl, and it had to be now. Her sister would have a throne, her fleet would have a base, and she would have a fresh hunting ground.

    Of course… she wouldn't have to take the islands. Not all at once. The Snow Queen ran a vast taloned gauntlet over her middle. Her belly was swollen with blood, but she could tell it was already curdling to life within her. Normally, she'd let the vast legions filling her womb fight and mature until only the strongest were left. But…

    But if she could just get a foothold, she could birth forth an army and seize the rest. She would have her feeding ground. And her dear sister… her sister would have a worthy throne.

    —|—|—​
    "N-need a r-refill s-sir?" Yeoman Laura Keys proffered a shaky smile to Admiral Kinsey. Her nose was an angry red and even bundled in her chemical suit the Hawaiian native was visibly shivering.

    Kinsey nodded and offered his half-empty mug. It'd been full of steaming coffee moments ago, he hadn't even drank all of it before it turned frigid and stale. It was the same story all over the base, all over the damn island. Warmth was nowhere to be found, what little embers could be scraped together died in a breath. "You doing okay, Yeoman?"

    Keys nodded. "I-it's warmer down here, sir."

    Kinsey scowled. It was bitterly cold in the CIC, but at least it was—barely—above freezing thanks to all the computers. Topside temperatures were rapidly approaching negatives, and roads were too choked with snow and ice to do anything meaningful about it. Breaking out chemical suits and scrounging what they could from the civilian population—what was left of it. All but the most stubborn had been evacuated months ago—-was all they could do.

    "It's the damn Russian Front up there," Kinsey grumbled to himself, taking brief sip of his refilled mug. He was fighting two elements now, cold and the deep. It was only a question of who landed the killing blow first. "What's the status on our reinforcements?"

    "Th-they should j-just be pulling in t-to San D-Diego any d-day now," said Keys.

    "We'll hold until they arrive," said Kinsey with what he hoped was grim conviction. But he knew—and Keys probably did to—that the situation was more perilous than ever. Mo had been their heavy hitter. With her gone, Pearl still had its Harpoons and a few batteries of tube artillery that—while predictably useless against warships—would at least help keep any landing force at bay.

    Assuming, of course, the men manning them didn't freeze to death first.

    —|—|—​
    High over the frigid central pacific, demons rode on silent wings. Thirty transports glided through the freezing, cloudless night without so much as whisper. Each was packed with crack shock troopers bundled in heavy overcoats and goggle-eyed gas masks with side-feeding rifles by their shoulders.

    They were only the first, the cutting tip of a spear of lighting. But their job was crucial and the Snow Queen gave them her full attention. Instruments of the same will working in perfect orchestral harmony, the gliders broke formation. Each formed up with its squad-mates, angling towards its objective with only the whisper of wind against canvas to shatter the night silence.

    —|—|—​
    "S-sir?" Yeoman Keys would've blushed if her face wasn't already flush from the cold. A nervous puff of misty breath curled from her lips and she fruitlessly tried to rub some warmth into her hands.

    "Yeoman?" Kinsey scowled. He was in the middle of planning the counter-offensive with Admiral Williams. Keys knew that. For her to interrupt him now… well there were a number of possible reasons, none of the good.

    "We've l-lost contact our harpoon batteries."

    Kinsey's scowl deepened. Landlines were down all over the island as wind, cold, and trucks driven by men who'd never even seen snow in their lives took their toll. Radios were failing left and right too as batteries ran flat in the cold. "Which one?"

    "A-all of them," said Keyes. "S-sir."

    Before Kinsey could say anything, the island buckled under his feet and sent him crashing to the floor.

    —|—|—​
    The midnight horizon burned white-hot. Naval rifles of every caliber joined their concussion to the vast thundering choir as every ship in the fleet poured fury into the insolent little island. But none, none, fought with such virulent hatred as the Raider Princess herself.

    She was in agony. For hours her body had been a battleground, wracked by the triple ravages of her body's torment of labor, her will's iron focus to keep her demons safely within her until her sister could secure a birthing dock, and her demons' single-minded devotion to tearing their way to freedom.

    Even within her they could smell the blood painting the ocean crimson. It was criminal to deny them their bounty, but the princess knew her rifles were needed. She had to keep fighting. Just a little longer, she told herself. Her mouth was awash in blood and the shattered remains of her own teeth. Her body shuddered with contractions that threatened to tear her keel apart, but she couldn't let go. Not just yet.

    She had to fight, to secure a fresh hunting ground for herself and her demons. She bit her lip, twisted metal shards biting into pallid flesh as her womb roiled like a tank of starving piranha. Her demons were tearing into her from within, she could feel it. The ecstasy and agony filled her vision with stars, but she forced herself to ignore it.

    Just a little longer… Her batteries roared again! Every drop of fury and agony poured into their breaches. Every drop of hate the Princess felt she directed solely at that damn island, building a storm of her detest that would wipe clean the filthy infestation.

    "FIRE!" she roared.

    —|—|—​
    "Why the hell—" Kinsey winced as the bunker shook from yet another thundering barrage. It should hold but… but those guns were massive and it wasn't the kind of experiment he'd like to bet his life on. "Why are they still coming? They have to know we'll reinforce soon!"

    "T-they," It was hard to tell what was making Keys stammer more, the cold or her own fear. "They m-might not h-have a ch-choice, sir."

    "Not what I wanted to hear, Yeoman," said Kinsey. He'd read Art of War, every officer had. If you back your enemy into a corner with fight or die as his only options, he'll fight still fiercer than ever before. And garden-variety Abyssals were aplenty fierce for him.

    —|—|—​
    There were no landing craft.

    One moment, artillery men were fighting with numb fingers to get their guns aligned, hoping against hope they might get a lucky hit on some unarmored component. Some golden BB that'd stop the fusillade rippling from the battle-fleet offshore.

    The next, tanks erupted from the waves, falling upon the shore like spray off a breaker. The concussion of eight-eights and long seventy-fives roared along the coast. The frantic chatter of M-16s and bark of belt-fed M-240s was met by the buzz-saw roar of abyssal machine guns and soon consumed by the hammering cadence of jackbooted feet.
     
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    • Marching troops capable of out paving BBs. While underwater. And going up fairly steep slopes. Much abyssal shenanigans.
     
    Dear god, I don't know if anyone on the Island will still be alive when Jersey and Company arrive. At this rate anyways... I'm still gonna hope someone's alive when reinforcements arrive.
     
    Good update, despite how bad it makes it for Pearl. I guess New Jersey and her task force are the best bet, but I can't help but think a task force of Japanese carriers supported by Arizona and Pennsylvania would make a good hammer to JerJers anvil...

    *Pennsy kicks down the door of the carrier barracks while Ari is held back by Iku and Shimakaze from heading for Pearl by herself*

    Pennsy: Alright, Kaga and Akagi, and the rest of you! Time to put up or shut up. If you want to die at Pearl, do it retaking it!
     
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    theJMPer said:
    Just a little longer… Her batteries roared again! Every drop of fury and agony poured into their breaches. Every drop of hate the Princess felt she directed solely at that damn island, building a storm of her detest that would wipe clean the filthy infestation.
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    Well fuck you too, Ice Bitch. Have fun with the divinely pissed off Joint Battle Fleet headed your way.

    Also, Jersey, for your counter strike
     
    After reading this chapter I'm left with the notion that so long as humanity manages to keep the Abyss at bay for long enough without losing too many or any forces(highly unlikely), then the war will be won by simply starving the Abyssals to death.
     
    Harry Leferts said:
    And then the Abyssals perform Call of Duty Russian style teleports of their troops into places like New York.
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    Zone-Meister said:
    And shit out troops from their asses.
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    Well then just means humanity must not only starve the Abyssals out, but also start hammering their outposts and stations. Yes, it won't be easy to do, but given that Abyssals can apparently (or a least has been alluded to) starve to death, then it would probably be a good idea to make them waste as much resources as possible. Though how one would go about doing this I am not sure.
     
    Things just went from bad to worse, didn't they. In a terrible, terrible fashion to boot.

    Very well done chapter!
     
    Abject Testament said:
    Well then just means humanity must not only starve the Abyssals out, but also start hammering their outposts and stations. Yes, it won't be easy to do, but given that Abyssals can apparently (or a least has been alluded to) starve to death, then it would probably be a good idea to make them waste as much resources as possible. Though how one would go about doing this I am not sure.
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    Yeah i have doubts this would ever happen.
     
    Zone-Meister said:
    Yeah i have doubts this would ever happen.
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    Well actually it already has happened. Remember Woody island?
    Now it's unlikely that it'll ever happen on a scale such as what lead up to Normandy since Abyssals really don't seem to be all that unified on an overall strategic level. But successfully repeating what had been done at Woody Island over and over again (and not necessarily use the exact same tactic, just whatever it takes to spread a princesses's forces too thin); then that may work greatly in humanity's favor. Of course the absolute two key things would be to make sure to limit losses, especially ships/shipgirls, as much as possible and to be absolutely certain to pursue and destroy any Abyssal that did managed to sink a ship/shipgirl so that they don't multiply.
     
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