CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
TVTropes lists her as a "Flat-Earth Atheist." Does this make her an Unwitting Instigator of Doom, as well?
Belated Battleships (KanColle) [REHOST]
- Thread starter theJMPer
- Start date
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
Yes I believe it does.
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
Oh...I knew that from way back, but never thought anything of it. I was like, "Aww...Langley died somehow. That sucks. At least she left a legacy behind through Jane."
Old Iron
Admiral Unfun
- Location
- The Southwestern Deadlands of America
Hiei just really doesn't like Torpedo Juice.Now Hiei you're insulting those that have tried Torpedo Juice before. That's just simply bad Sake, not potent booze. If you want Torpedo Juice, go looking around for a USN Ship Engineer. They probably have a still tucked away somewhere aboard and They'll be more than happy to share some with ya... provided if you don't say anything about the still's existence on the ship.
Now imagine all the stuff he had to pull to keep his position and raise Jane while being in that state.
Probably more than just twice.
Indeed. I also wager that will be a very emotional moment if Jane ever finds out just what her father went through in its entirety.
Hiei: It's a Zippo. And a really nice one, too. Belonged to Langley's father, actually.
Hiei: I didn't want to show off too much.
Oh, no. Hiei was going to give him that big 'ol kiss no matter what. She was just planning on doing it after the reception. You know, without everyone and their dog there to witness it.
*loud no comment noises*
. . .
*extra no comment noises*~
Omake: Wolfbait!
CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
Wolfbait, Part 6, in which the fallout begins.
For Nachi, the recent reports of mines weren't the thing troubling her mind. They were bad, obviously, having claimed their fair share of victims, but it was something to the north, not the south, that had her furrowing her brows. The literal minefield had been replaced by a figurative one, but still no less dangerous.
She had been informed that the girl likely to be her future sister-in-law, one Catherine Hunter, had been committed to a mental hospital. The conversation with her mother had been tense, and rife with attempts to hide what she already knew: that someone had called her history, her suffering, and her hard-fought war a lie. Myoukou was kind enough to tell her as much, but the revelation didn't hurt any less. She had been split in three for her troubles some seventy years before, and had taken dozens of hits from artillery and torpedoes even in this life. Some of those wounds still ached.
Cosplayer her ass.
Ironically she had somewhat fantasized about the moment. In being Cathy's sister, the girl would become their sister, complete with a complete, custom-tailored copy of their uniform, maybe even with a cute Japanese cruiser name bestowed upon her for good measure. She laughed, knowing of the bitter irony of it.
Naturally, the two future in-laws wouldn't be arriving, at least, not for a long time. But at least a potential disruption to her sister's happiness was now out of the way. Apparently Cathy had believed Ashigara to be little more than a paid whore, who would leave James heartbroken the moment a more desirable man came along. What a joke. Ashigara had definitely given off the impression of desperation, but had confided privately that she was looking for the one whose hand she felt when she stepped out of the water. She was not the type to betray, however, and as far as Nachi knew, none of them were. Not her sisters, not her comrades, and not any other one of their kind. She wasn't even sure if anyone would agree to being part of someone's personal flotilla, either.
Unfortunately, it was too early for a drink, and she had the day patrol, providing remote cover for the PT boat squadrons. Those little dogs worked hard, but raised all sorts of hell when they weren't out at sea. Apparently one of them had tried to drag off one of the massive rotary cannons that was being worked on, while jars of peanut butter, of all things, were repeatedly found mysteriously empty.
She heard the door swing open, cutting her line of thought short. Atago was standing, eyes drooping and head low. The night patrol had taken a toll on her, and she could see the blue-haired form of Urakaze clinging to her midsection. This is why they needed more ships, she quietly thought to herself as she rose from her seat, and dashed over to help the two.
She took hold of Atago's arm and wrapped it around the back of her shoulder, taking hold and guiding the exhausted cruiser to the bed. Shaking her head, Nachi couldn't help but pity the sight, somewhat. "Did you at least file your reports?"
Atago slowly nodded, before Nachi helped her onto the bed. She flopped on, Urakaze still stuck to her, and Nachi figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.
Sleeping dogs? "I've spent way too much time here," she quietly muttered to herself, before sighing. Turning around, she saw Hamakaze and Isokaze standing in the doorframe, concerned looks on their faces. Nachi put a finger to her lips, before stepping out and closing the door. "Where's Tanikaze?"
"She is eating, but has exhausted herself," replied Isokaze. "From what she said, the PT boat squadrons had a scare, and the night patrol was forced to extend themselves to investigate. However, they had sailed into a minefield and had to be rescued by more PT boats. Thankfully none struck them, but the experience had taken a toll on them, and now they require sleep."
"Dammit," hissed Nachi. "We need those minelayers found. I'm going to stock up on extra fuel for my floatplanes before we depart. I also require the reports from the night PT squadrons as well."
"I'm on it!" Hamakaze shouted before running off. Some soldier couldn't help but stare at the destroyer, only to feel as Nachi glared at him, a subtle fire in her eyes as he quickly resumed his duties. Hopefully she wouldn't need to kick down any more doors, not after the incident in which her charges had learned some rather obscene things.
A small sigh escaped her. Nachi knew she'd rather sink in glorious battle rather than by striking a mine. Of their sisters, only Haguro had experienced that honor, even if it was against a squadron of destroyers sent specifically to hound her.
Dammit, what was with these dog puns?
Those corgis were getting to her, without a doubt. She'd need to transfer out at this rate, if she was to keep her sanity.
A buzzing in her pocket caught her attention, however. Reaching down, Nachi took out her phone and saw a familiar '330' number, that she had gotten over the Skype chat a few days before. "I need to take this," she told Isokaze, before ducking into an unoccupied conference room and shutting the door. "This is Nachi."
"Nachi, it's Karen Hunter. I couldn't reach my son, and I think I n-need to talk to you about what happened."
The other woman sounded exhausted in her own right. "You'll have to make this fairly quick, for I have to run the daytime patrol soon," Nachi replied.
A sigh could be heard. "S-Sorry about that, but…" There was a pause. "H-Has my son talked to any of you about what's going on with my daughter?"
Nachi felt her stomach drop slightly. "He talked to Myoukou, Haguro, and Ashigara about it, yes. Myoukou filled me in. Apparently your daughter believed us to be…" she took a deep breath. Dammit, it was such an insult. "Actors, of some description?"
"Yeah," Hunter sighed. "H-How did you take it, exactly?"
Nachi felt herself grip the side of her skirt, trying to keep herself calm. "We were deeply insulted by it," she flatly stated. Her breath grew heavier, as she recalled her elder sister's words. "Have you taken a bullet, Mrs. Hunter? Has something exploded in your face? Multiply that at least a hundredfold, and you may begin to imagine what it's like for me, every time I've sortied out both in this life and the last. I've felt far too much blood run down my decks, ever warm even as the bodies it left cooled off. I've heard countless screams of those who've died aboard me, and from those I've slain. When I learned that someone out there considers it all an act, a propaganda piece," she hissed out the last part. "It makes every fight, every wound I've taken worthless. Take comfort in knowing those words are not directed towards you."
Another pause, and Nachi figured that Hunter was collecting herself. "Cathy has… realized what she's done, now that she's gotten past the whole fairy thing. She's scared—"
"As she very much should be," Nachi growled, cutting the other woman off. "She's fortunate that it was us rather than someone like Nagato, Kaga, Musashi, or your own battleships. I've heard stories about the Grey Ghost, as well. What if she were here and had caught wind of this?"
"W-Which one was the Grey Ghost again?"
Nachi felt her hand meet her face. "Enterprise."
"Oh."
"To challenge her was to court death. Regardless, we do not take kindly to anyone who denies our struggles. I pray your daughter improves in this regard." She hung up, letting out a deep sigh, before leaning herself against the wall. Her gloved hand slowly slid down her face, amidst the still air. "This is going to be the end of me…"
Looking out the window, Catherine Hunter could barely see the Akron skyline, as snow came down steadily, coating everything white. The cold from outside faintly leaked through the window, as her tormentors looked with fascinated gazes. She had fallen into Hell itself, it seemed like. The colors were still faded, even though it had been several days since they showed up, since they brought everything she held to be the truth of the world crashing down.
Ships shouldn't be real, and yet when the doctors showed her the photos, told her what they saw, and asked her to truthfully speak what she saw, there was no more trying to… deal with it. She had it drilled into her head never to lie to a doctor, and so she signed off on what was no doubt the end of her life as she knew it. No travel, no jobs, no fucking chance. Nobody could trust her after this.
A knock on her door grabbed her attention. "Come in…" she said, sighing. The door opened, and the scent of fresh-cooked breakfast filled the room. Eggs, sausages, and a breakfast burrito, alongside orange juice. The nurse placed the tray beside her bed, as Cathy walked over and sat down. The woman's eyes were following the them, as they made their way onto the bed. Her eyes were wide, before she stepped out of the room, the door shutting quietly.
She ate up, with what was left given to them. How they could eat normal food was beyond her. But then again, their existence was, and she was clueless. The past few days left her clueless, and unable to do anything but mope and berate herself.
Cathy hugged her knees to her chest, as she found herself doing every day. Her thoughts drifted to that dark place, what was left of her shelter from the storm that had gripped the world. She was forced to take stock once again, this time with forcibly-opened eyes.
Her brother was fighting against inhuman horrors, mockeries of people and machines that sought to kill all they saw, and who could only be countered by similar mockeries, who wanted to sleep with all they saw. Hell, he had been engaged for the past few days, against some freak that hit Sasebo.
One of them had taken notice of him, who called herself Ashigara, who Cathy could tell was doing it out of desperation. That would never change. Some nine-year-old girl messed with forces she shouldn't have, and the end results were in her room, wanting something with her. Maybe it was for her to play with them, like her Polly Pockets years ago, or maybe it was some naïve attempt to get her to be happy once more.
"Poi?"
The word was spoken clear as a bell. That damned word, that damned meme. Yuudachi was a massive dumbass, and probably had some kind of disorder, if all she said was 'poi.'
"Au!"
Looking over, she could see the small representation of Shimakaze on the floor, having no doubt tripped itself. She had seen an image of the girl, who looked two or three years younger, and wore clothes that were about as tasteless as they were obscene. A brown-haired one, a small representation of who she presumed to be a sister to Yuudachi, if the clothes meant anything, helped the blonde up. "Shigu…"
They were like damned Pokemon, all saying one word, usually some shortened version of their counterparts' names. She didn't want to catch 'em all, though. She'd much rather they leave, and never return. She so desperately wanted this to be a bad dream, but bad dreams didn't last years.
Another knock on the door, as her shrink popped in. He had his laptop on him, before setting it up on the windowsill. "Mornin', Cathy. How are you feelin'?"
It was the same mood she had since she got here. "Like shit."
He typed, the keyboard clacking away for a few seconds. "Have you experienced anything unusual? Any nightmares, episodes, things like that?"
A sigh left her. "I saw my brother get married when I was sleeping. It was Ashigara, and I wanted to stop it, but the others…" she swallowed. "They had me at gunpoint."
More typing, as the experience was put down on a document to be filed away somewhere. He sipped on something, disgusted at the taste. "Damn this lack of coffee…" he quietly muttered to himself. "So, do you fear that they'll retaliate?"
"What do you think!?" Exclaimed Cathy, tears falling down her eyes. "My brother's probably told every last one of them, because he can't keep his stupid fucking mouth shut! 'Woe is me, because my sister wanted me to help my family instead of going off to die!'"
The doctor paused, rubbing his chin as he tried to think of a response. "Yes, you've mentioned your brother a lot. You've repeatedly called him foolish for the reasons you've stated, but have you stepped in his shoes?"
"Oh, I know exactly what he's thinking!" Cathy spat out. "'Oh, I'm finally free of my sister and her increasingly psychotic nature! Now I can go out and kill in the name of humanity and fuck some lovely-looking women while my family goes to shit!'"
"Is that how he would put it?"
Cathy nodded. "Though he wouldn't outright say that he wanted to fuck those women."
More typing followed, before the doctor turned back around, putting his hands on his lap. "What exactly did you wish for your brother to help with, in regards to your family?"
She huffed, gripping the sheets. Cathy wanted so desperately to beat the shit out of her brother, and ensure that he would be unable to have sex with a woman. Ever. But he wasn't here, only some shrink. "To be the man," she growled. "Our dad dropped dead of a heart attack because my grandmother hated his guts, thinking that he had 'corrupted,'" she made air quotes. "Her precious Christian baby into believing in black magic and being all Satanist. All Jimmy had to do was get angry. He's a beautiful sight when he gets angry…" She let out a bitter laugh. How he verbally tore one of the cliques at school to shreds was something she'd never understand, but those bitches had it coming.
"And this would have solved the issue with your grandmother?"
A nod. "She would have seen what she was doing to her own family. He would have taken every word she said and used it against her. He would have made an ass out of her. And maybe if he showed some goddamn spine…" She couldn't bear to finish that sentence.
A low hum escaped the doctor. He probably didn't believe her one bit. Fuck him. "Now, as I understand, your brother is involved with a shipgirl?"
"He shouldn't be," she spat. "She's desperate. I could tell. Ashigara is only in it so that she can say she got laid or something. Once she's used him, she'll move on. I don't want him to die, and I don't want him to be heartbroken like that, either. My friends liked him, especially Riley, but he just ignored them, gazing at that stupid model of his before he left."
"Stupid model?"
Cathy groaned. "He had a model of some old Japanese battleship and he called it 'Ashigara.' He did so because of an old school project our teacher gave us."
"'Our' teacher?"
She nodded, before loosening her grip, swinging her legs off of the bedside. "We had the same teacher, who was from a navy family. We had to research some old ship, and I couldn't really give a shit. All I remember about mine is that she got into some fight in which she somehow survived alone." A sigh left her. "Of course, she's probably back, and I'm sure Jimmy's told her about it because he can't keep his stupid mouth shut, and she probably hates me."
"Which leads us back to a point I was hoping to raise with you. You believe that the shipgirls will hate you?"
Another nod. "He's probably told Ashigara about me. Her sisters probably know, too, and I'm not sure what's going to keep them from marching on over here and tearing me limb f-from limb…" she sniffled. Once more, the realization that she had fucked up was crashing down upon her, and the price was going to be immense.
"And what if that's not the case?"
Anger gripped her once more. "You don't know my brother," she growled. "And people talk nowadays. How many bad jokes have you seen blown out of proportion on Twitter?"
He stared blankly for a moment, before letting out a silent sigh. "Do you suspect that your name is going to be all over social media, then?"
"At least in Japan." She really shouldn't have called Myoukou a 'lying bitch' on Instagram, in hindsight. And now a bunch of otaku scum were going to threaten to kill her because she dared insult their waifu.
He typed away, before pulling up something and typing into it. Looking closer, she could see that it was an email being written, though to whom, she couldn't tell.
"I'm going to take my leave early for today, but I'm beginning to see a little more progress, and when I come back, hopefully we can help you progress further, alright?"
She couldn't stand to face the doctor, but nodded anyway. The door closed, leaving her alone with her tormentors. They didn't want to kill her, but, well…
Once again, she couldn't really think.
"Poi?"
Cathy watched as the tiny counterpart to Yuudachi climbed onto her hand, making a motion with its hand, patting its head.
"Poi!"
Raising a finger, she tapped, causing it to smile warmly. She felt tiny strands of hair, soft and fine, one of the many things that separated it from a doll.
But something caught her eye, as she turned to look out the window. The snow had stopped, and the sun was beginning to shine.
Author's Note:
When I began planning things out for this, I wanted to try to write the moment Cathy shattered, when she opened that box and felt the Shipgirl Magick hit her with the same force as the freight trains that roll by her house, but I couldn't quite get it right, so I found myself with little other choice but to skip to the aftermath. Perhaps I'll get back to it, but her arc is about someone coming to accept that things are different, and that things don't play out as she wants them to.
Also, I'm probably gonna hold off on writing anything too much further with regards to the stories of Cathy and her brother until Tosa has been dealt with, and I can figure out how to incorporate the aftermath of that (and Iron's latest bombshell) into this.
In addition, I got mentioned on TVTropes, and it appears that GentlemansDame883 has taken notice of what I have to write. I do wonder… was Cathy indeed an Unwitting Instigator of Doom?
[=]
For Nachi, the recent reports of mines weren't the thing troubling her mind. They were bad, obviously, having claimed their fair share of victims, but it was something to the north, not the south, that had her furrowing her brows. The literal minefield had been replaced by a figurative one, but still no less dangerous.
She had been informed that the girl likely to be her future sister-in-law, one Catherine Hunter, had been committed to a mental hospital. The conversation with her mother had been tense, and rife with attempts to hide what she already knew: that someone had called her history, her suffering, and her hard-fought war a lie. Myoukou was kind enough to tell her as much, but the revelation didn't hurt any less. She had been split in three for her troubles some seventy years before, and had taken dozens of hits from artillery and torpedoes even in this life. Some of those wounds still ached.
Cosplayer her ass.
Ironically she had somewhat fantasized about the moment. In being Cathy's sister, the girl would become their sister, complete with a complete, custom-tailored copy of their uniform, maybe even with a cute Japanese cruiser name bestowed upon her for good measure. She laughed, knowing of the bitter irony of it.
Naturally, the two future in-laws wouldn't be arriving, at least, not for a long time. But at least a potential disruption to her sister's happiness was now out of the way. Apparently Cathy had believed Ashigara to be little more than a paid whore, who would leave James heartbroken the moment a more desirable man came along. What a joke. Ashigara had definitely given off the impression of desperation, but had confided privately that she was looking for the one whose hand she felt when she stepped out of the water. She was not the type to betray, however, and as far as Nachi knew, none of them were. Not her sisters, not her comrades, and not any other one of their kind. She wasn't even sure if anyone would agree to being part of someone's personal flotilla, either.
Unfortunately, it was too early for a drink, and she had the day patrol, providing remote cover for the PT boat squadrons. Those little dogs worked hard, but raised all sorts of hell when they weren't out at sea. Apparently one of them had tried to drag off one of the massive rotary cannons that was being worked on, while jars of peanut butter, of all things, were repeatedly found mysteriously empty.
She heard the door swing open, cutting her line of thought short. Atago was standing, eyes drooping and head low. The night patrol had taken a toll on her, and she could see the blue-haired form of Urakaze clinging to her midsection. This is why they needed more ships, she quietly thought to herself as she rose from her seat, and dashed over to help the two.
She took hold of Atago's arm and wrapped it around the back of her shoulder, taking hold and guiding the exhausted cruiser to the bed. Shaking her head, Nachi couldn't help but pity the sight, somewhat. "Did you at least file your reports?"
Atago slowly nodded, before Nachi helped her onto the bed. She flopped on, Urakaze still stuck to her, and Nachi figured it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.
Sleeping dogs? "I've spent way too much time here," she quietly muttered to herself, before sighing. Turning around, she saw Hamakaze and Isokaze standing in the doorframe, concerned looks on their faces. Nachi put a finger to her lips, before stepping out and closing the door. "Where's Tanikaze?"
"She is eating, but has exhausted herself," replied Isokaze. "From what she said, the PT boat squadrons had a scare, and the night patrol was forced to extend themselves to investigate. However, they had sailed into a minefield and had to be rescued by more PT boats. Thankfully none struck them, but the experience had taken a toll on them, and now they require sleep."
"Dammit," hissed Nachi. "We need those minelayers found. I'm going to stock up on extra fuel for my floatplanes before we depart. I also require the reports from the night PT squadrons as well."
"I'm on it!" Hamakaze shouted before running off. Some soldier couldn't help but stare at the destroyer, only to feel as Nachi glared at him, a subtle fire in her eyes as he quickly resumed his duties. Hopefully she wouldn't need to kick down any more doors, not after the incident in which her charges had learned some rather obscene things.
A small sigh escaped her. Nachi knew she'd rather sink in glorious battle rather than by striking a mine. Of their sisters, only Haguro had experienced that honor, even if it was against a squadron of destroyers sent specifically to hound her.
Dammit, what was with these dog puns?
Those corgis were getting to her, without a doubt. She'd need to transfer out at this rate, if she was to keep her sanity.
A buzzing in her pocket caught her attention, however. Reaching down, Nachi took out her phone and saw a familiar '330' number, that she had gotten over the Skype chat a few days before. "I need to take this," she told Isokaze, before ducking into an unoccupied conference room and shutting the door. "This is Nachi."
"Nachi, it's Karen Hunter. I couldn't reach my son, and I think I n-need to talk to you about what happened."
The other woman sounded exhausted in her own right. "You'll have to make this fairly quick, for I have to run the daytime patrol soon," Nachi replied.
A sigh could be heard. "S-Sorry about that, but…" There was a pause. "H-Has my son talked to any of you about what's going on with my daughter?"
Nachi felt her stomach drop slightly. "He talked to Myoukou, Haguro, and Ashigara about it, yes. Myoukou filled me in. Apparently your daughter believed us to be…" she took a deep breath. Dammit, it was such an insult. "Actors, of some description?"
"Yeah," Hunter sighed. "H-How did you take it, exactly?"
Nachi felt herself grip the side of her skirt, trying to keep herself calm. "We were deeply insulted by it," she flatly stated. Her breath grew heavier, as she recalled her elder sister's words. "Have you taken a bullet, Mrs. Hunter? Has something exploded in your face? Multiply that at least a hundredfold, and you may begin to imagine what it's like for me, every time I've sortied out both in this life and the last. I've felt far too much blood run down my decks, ever warm even as the bodies it left cooled off. I've heard countless screams of those who've died aboard me, and from those I've slain. When I learned that someone out there considers it all an act, a propaganda piece," she hissed out the last part. "It makes every fight, every wound I've taken worthless. Take comfort in knowing those words are not directed towards you."
Another pause, and Nachi figured that Hunter was collecting herself. "Cathy has… realized what she's done, now that she's gotten past the whole fairy thing. She's scared—"
"As she very much should be," Nachi growled, cutting the other woman off. "She's fortunate that it was us rather than someone like Nagato, Kaga, Musashi, or your own battleships. I've heard stories about the Grey Ghost, as well. What if she were here and had caught wind of this?"
"W-Which one was the Grey Ghost again?"
Nachi felt her hand meet her face. "Enterprise."
"Oh."
"To challenge her was to court death. Regardless, we do not take kindly to anyone who denies our struggles. I pray your daughter improves in this regard." She hung up, letting out a deep sigh, before leaning herself against the wall. Her gloved hand slowly slid down her face, amidst the still air. "This is going to be the end of me…"
[=]
Looking out the window, Catherine Hunter could barely see the Akron skyline, as snow came down steadily, coating everything white. The cold from outside faintly leaked through the window, as her tormentors looked with fascinated gazes. She had fallen into Hell itself, it seemed like. The colors were still faded, even though it had been several days since they showed up, since they brought everything she held to be the truth of the world crashing down.
Ships shouldn't be real, and yet when the doctors showed her the photos, told her what they saw, and asked her to truthfully speak what she saw, there was no more trying to… deal with it. She had it drilled into her head never to lie to a doctor, and so she signed off on what was no doubt the end of her life as she knew it. No travel, no jobs, no fucking chance. Nobody could trust her after this.
A knock on her door grabbed her attention. "Come in…" she said, sighing. The door opened, and the scent of fresh-cooked breakfast filled the room. Eggs, sausages, and a breakfast burrito, alongside orange juice. The nurse placed the tray beside her bed, as Cathy walked over and sat down. The woman's eyes were following the them, as they made their way onto the bed. Her eyes were wide, before she stepped out of the room, the door shutting quietly.
She ate up, with what was left given to them. How they could eat normal food was beyond her. But then again, their existence was, and she was clueless. The past few days left her clueless, and unable to do anything but mope and berate herself.
Cathy hugged her knees to her chest, as she found herself doing every day. Her thoughts drifted to that dark place, what was left of her shelter from the storm that had gripped the world. She was forced to take stock once again, this time with forcibly-opened eyes.
Her brother was fighting against inhuman horrors, mockeries of people and machines that sought to kill all they saw, and who could only be countered by similar mockeries, who wanted to sleep with all they saw. Hell, he had been engaged for the past few days, against some freak that hit Sasebo.
One of them had taken notice of him, who called herself Ashigara, who Cathy could tell was doing it out of desperation. That would never change. Some nine-year-old girl messed with forces she shouldn't have, and the end results were in her room, wanting something with her. Maybe it was for her to play with them, like her Polly Pockets years ago, or maybe it was some naïve attempt to get her to be happy once more.
"Poi?"
The word was spoken clear as a bell. That damned word, that damned meme. Yuudachi was a massive dumbass, and probably had some kind of disorder, if all she said was 'poi.'
"Au!"
Looking over, she could see the small representation of Shimakaze on the floor, having no doubt tripped itself. She had seen an image of the girl, who looked two or three years younger, and wore clothes that were about as tasteless as they were obscene. A brown-haired one, a small representation of who she presumed to be a sister to Yuudachi, if the clothes meant anything, helped the blonde up. "Shigu…"
They were like damned Pokemon, all saying one word, usually some shortened version of their counterparts' names. She didn't want to catch 'em all, though. She'd much rather they leave, and never return. She so desperately wanted this to be a bad dream, but bad dreams didn't last years.
Another knock on the door, as her shrink popped in. He had his laptop on him, before setting it up on the windowsill. "Mornin', Cathy. How are you feelin'?"
It was the same mood she had since she got here. "Like shit."
He typed, the keyboard clacking away for a few seconds. "Have you experienced anything unusual? Any nightmares, episodes, things like that?"
A sigh left her. "I saw my brother get married when I was sleeping. It was Ashigara, and I wanted to stop it, but the others…" she swallowed. "They had me at gunpoint."
More typing, as the experience was put down on a document to be filed away somewhere. He sipped on something, disgusted at the taste. "Damn this lack of coffee…" he quietly muttered to himself. "So, do you fear that they'll retaliate?"
"What do you think!?" Exclaimed Cathy, tears falling down her eyes. "My brother's probably told every last one of them, because he can't keep his stupid fucking mouth shut! 'Woe is me, because my sister wanted me to help my family instead of going off to die!'"
The doctor paused, rubbing his chin as he tried to think of a response. "Yes, you've mentioned your brother a lot. You've repeatedly called him foolish for the reasons you've stated, but have you stepped in his shoes?"
"Oh, I know exactly what he's thinking!" Cathy spat out. "'Oh, I'm finally free of my sister and her increasingly psychotic nature! Now I can go out and kill in the name of humanity and fuck some lovely-looking women while my family goes to shit!'"
"Is that how he would put it?"
Cathy nodded. "Though he wouldn't outright say that he wanted to fuck those women."
More typing followed, before the doctor turned back around, putting his hands on his lap. "What exactly did you wish for your brother to help with, in regards to your family?"
She huffed, gripping the sheets. Cathy wanted so desperately to beat the shit out of her brother, and ensure that he would be unable to have sex with a woman. Ever. But he wasn't here, only some shrink. "To be the man," she growled. "Our dad dropped dead of a heart attack because my grandmother hated his guts, thinking that he had 'corrupted,'" she made air quotes. "Her precious Christian baby into believing in black magic and being all Satanist. All Jimmy had to do was get angry. He's a beautiful sight when he gets angry…" She let out a bitter laugh. How he verbally tore one of the cliques at school to shreds was something she'd never understand, but those bitches had it coming.
"And this would have solved the issue with your grandmother?"
A nod. "She would have seen what she was doing to her own family. He would have taken every word she said and used it against her. He would have made an ass out of her. And maybe if he showed some goddamn spine…" She couldn't bear to finish that sentence.
A low hum escaped the doctor. He probably didn't believe her one bit. Fuck him. "Now, as I understand, your brother is involved with a shipgirl?"
"He shouldn't be," she spat. "She's desperate. I could tell. Ashigara is only in it so that she can say she got laid or something. Once she's used him, she'll move on. I don't want him to die, and I don't want him to be heartbroken like that, either. My friends liked him, especially Riley, but he just ignored them, gazing at that stupid model of his before he left."
"Stupid model?"
Cathy groaned. "He had a model of some old Japanese battleship and he called it 'Ashigara.' He did so because of an old school project our teacher gave us."
"'Our' teacher?"
She nodded, before loosening her grip, swinging her legs off of the bedside. "We had the same teacher, who was from a navy family. We had to research some old ship, and I couldn't really give a shit. All I remember about mine is that she got into some fight in which she somehow survived alone." A sigh left her. "Of course, she's probably back, and I'm sure Jimmy's told her about it because he can't keep his stupid mouth shut, and she probably hates me."
"Which leads us back to a point I was hoping to raise with you. You believe that the shipgirls will hate you?"
Another nod. "He's probably told Ashigara about me. Her sisters probably know, too, and I'm not sure what's going to keep them from marching on over here and tearing me limb f-from limb…" she sniffled. Once more, the realization that she had fucked up was crashing down upon her, and the price was going to be immense.
"And what if that's not the case?"
Anger gripped her once more. "You don't know my brother," she growled. "And people talk nowadays. How many bad jokes have you seen blown out of proportion on Twitter?"
He stared blankly for a moment, before letting out a silent sigh. "Do you suspect that your name is going to be all over social media, then?"
"At least in Japan." She really shouldn't have called Myoukou a 'lying bitch' on Instagram, in hindsight. And now a bunch of otaku scum were going to threaten to kill her because she dared insult their waifu.
He typed away, before pulling up something and typing into it. Looking closer, she could see that it was an email being written, though to whom, she couldn't tell.
"I'm going to take my leave early for today, but I'm beginning to see a little more progress, and when I come back, hopefully we can help you progress further, alright?"
She couldn't stand to face the doctor, but nodded anyway. The door closed, leaving her alone with her tormentors. They didn't want to kill her, but, well…
Once again, she couldn't really think.
"Poi?"
Cathy watched as the tiny counterpart to Yuudachi climbed onto her hand, making a motion with its hand, patting its head.
"Poi!"
Raising a finger, she tapped, causing it to smile warmly. She felt tiny strands of hair, soft and fine, one of the many things that separated it from a doll.
But something caught her eye, as she turned to look out the window. The snow had stopped, and the sun was beginning to shine.
[=]
Author's Note:
When I began planning things out for this, I wanted to try to write the moment Cathy shattered, when she opened that box and felt the Shipgirl Magick hit her with the same force as the freight trains that roll by her house, but I couldn't quite get it right, so I found myself with little other choice but to skip to the aftermath. Perhaps I'll get back to it, but her arc is about someone coming to accept that things are different, and that things don't play out as she wants them to.
Also, I'm probably gonna hold off on writing anything too much further with regards to the stories of Cathy and her brother until Tosa has been dealt with, and I can figure out how to incorporate the aftermath of that (and Iron's latest bombshell) into this.
In addition, I got mentioned on TVTropes, and it appears that GentlemansDame883 has taken notice of what I have to write. I do wonder… was Cathy indeed an Unwitting Instigator of Doom?
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
I think Cathy's realizing that the shipgirls are real, but she still thinks they're desperate, promiscuous sluts.
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
You think? Seemed pretty obvious to me that she at least thinks that of Ashigara...
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
We've had some dark stuff recently... how about some light hearted things from the future!
________________________________________________________________________
One eyebrow raised, Arizona was staring at the image on the screen with a frown on her face. For several moments, she was silent before turning to look at Jane who was beside her. "Jane..." Pointing at the screen, she continued. "I have to ask if you are quite serious about this."
Lips curling upwards, Jane nodded as she continued to scroll downwards. "Yup! This would make an awesome cosplay for you, Ari-Mama! Its the biggest thing right now on the net! And..." Coming to a stop, the young girl pointed at one image. "This would me mine."
Now leaning forward, the Battleship frowned a bit while looking between Jane and the picture on the screen. Humming, she felt her own lips curl. "I suppose that it would be interesting. And most of the dresses are... okay."
Arms crossed, Jane just smiled in victory already knowing that she won when Mutsu poked her head in followed by Hiei. "Jane? Ari? What are the two of you up to now?"
Glancing at them both, Arizona froze for a moment as a thought came to mind. Slowly, her smile became a smirk. "Myself and Jane were discussing cosplay outfits for the next convention. We decided on this one..."
Both Battleships walked in and took note of the picture there before blinking. Mutsu raised both eyebrows in surprise before looking at Arizona. "I must admit, I am somewhat surprised that you would wear something like that, Ari. Doesn't quite... seem like you."
Her smirk growing, Arizona chuckled some. "Perhaps, perhaps not. It does cover everything after all. Besides which?" Leaning against one hand, she closed her eyes some. "Is that not the point of cosplay? To not be yourself?"
Frowning, the other two shipgirls could only nod while Hiei shrugged. "I suppose so..." Then the Kongou grinned. "Just let me know when you're going to show John. I want to see his brain fry."
Lightly laughing though, Arizone gave them both grins. "Why ever would I be alone..." Going through some other pictures, she stopped at them. "How would you both feel about joining us...?"
Mutsu leaned in and looked at the pictures given before grinning along with Hiei. "I suppose that something could be done~" Then her eyes lit up. "I can even bring the Twins in this case."
Unable to help herself, Hiei cackled before pointing. "I call that one! All we got to do is get Jintsuu involved to really blow John's mind..."
Now having the same expression, all the females there began to get to work on planning, while elsewhere a long suffering Admiral paused at the feeling fo a chill going down his spine...
______________________________________________________________
Standing near the door, John looked at his watch and sighed. Only part of that was due to the time though. The rest? It was due to the fact that he knew that the shipgirls were planning on something.
Something along with Jane, which made it worse.
Finally, he heard footsteps and looked to the stairs. "Well, if you're all ready then we can... go..."
John's eyes slowly widened as the group came down the stairs. Jane was first landing on the ground with a spiked shell on her back, and a bib with a fang filled mouth on it. Behind her was Arizona... Except Ari was wearing a sleeveless black dress with the top clinging to her body. What really caught the Admiral's attention was the black, spiked collar and bracelets. So much so that he nearly missed the horns on her head and the spiked shell on her back as well as a spiked tail.
What made it worse though, and caused him to twitch, was what was behind her.
Behind Arizona was Mutsu wearing a white, almost bridal gown as well as having long, white hair. Even her skin was pale white. In either one of her arms were the Twins with ghost costumes on them. Behind her was a grinning Hiei in a green dress, saddle on her back, and a green tail poking out. Then his twitches got worse as Jintsuu arrived in a black dress, a fanged grin, and what looked like shells on her hands.
For how long he stared at them, he did not know. But Mutsu's giggles brought him around as did Arizona's finger snapping in his face. With him being brought back to reality, he looked up at their heads and noticed a familiar looking crown there. Something that made him sigh before he looked himself over and pinched his nose. "And thus, the mystery of why I am dressed as Mario is solved..."
________________________________________________________________________
One eyebrow raised, Arizona was staring at the image on the screen with a frown on her face. For several moments, she was silent before turning to look at Jane who was beside her. "Jane..." Pointing at the screen, she continued. "I have to ask if you are quite serious about this."
Lips curling upwards, Jane nodded as she continued to scroll downwards. "Yup! This would make an awesome cosplay for you, Ari-Mama! Its the biggest thing right now on the net! And..." Coming to a stop, the young girl pointed at one image. "This would me mine."
Now leaning forward, the Battleship frowned a bit while looking between Jane and the picture on the screen. Humming, she felt her own lips curl. "I suppose that it would be interesting. And most of the dresses are... okay."
Arms crossed, Jane just smiled in victory already knowing that she won when Mutsu poked her head in followed by Hiei. "Jane? Ari? What are the two of you up to now?"
Glancing at them both, Arizona froze for a moment as a thought came to mind. Slowly, her smile became a smirk. "Myself and Jane were discussing cosplay outfits for the next convention. We decided on this one..."
Both Battleships walked in and took note of the picture there before blinking. Mutsu raised both eyebrows in surprise before looking at Arizona. "I must admit, I am somewhat surprised that you would wear something like that, Ari. Doesn't quite... seem like you."
Her smirk growing, Arizona chuckled some. "Perhaps, perhaps not. It does cover everything after all. Besides which?" Leaning against one hand, she closed her eyes some. "Is that not the point of cosplay? To not be yourself?"
Frowning, the other two shipgirls could only nod while Hiei shrugged. "I suppose so..." Then the Kongou grinned. "Just let me know when you're going to show John. I want to see his brain fry."
Lightly laughing though, Arizone gave them both grins. "Why ever would I be alone..." Going through some other pictures, she stopped at them. "How would you both feel about joining us...?"
Mutsu leaned in and looked at the pictures given before grinning along with Hiei. "I suppose that something could be done~" Then her eyes lit up. "I can even bring the Twins in this case."
Unable to help herself, Hiei cackled before pointing. "I call that one! All we got to do is get Jintsuu involved to really blow John's mind..."
Now having the same expression, all the females there began to get to work on planning, while elsewhere a long suffering Admiral paused at the feeling fo a chill going down his spine...
______________________________________________________________
Standing near the door, John looked at his watch and sighed. Only part of that was due to the time though. The rest? It was due to the fact that he knew that the shipgirls were planning on something.
Something along with Jane, which made it worse.
Finally, he heard footsteps and looked to the stairs. "Well, if you're all ready then we can... go..."
John's eyes slowly widened as the group came down the stairs. Jane was first landing on the ground with a spiked shell on her back, and a bib with a fang filled mouth on it. Behind her was Arizona... Except Ari was wearing a sleeveless black dress with the top clinging to her body. What really caught the Admiral's attention was the black, spiked collar and bracelets. So much so that he nearly missed the horns on her head and the spiked shell on her back as well as a spiked tail.
What made it worse though, and caused him to twitch, was what was behind her.
Behind Arizona was Mutsu wearing a white, almost bridal gown as well as having long, white hair. Even her skin was pale white. In either one of her arms were the Twins with ghost costumes on them. Behind her was a grinning Hiei in a green dress, saddle on her back, and a green tail poking out. Then his twitches got worse as Jintsuu arrived in a black dress, a fanged grin, and what looked like shells on her hands.
For how long he stared at them, he did not know. But Mutsu's giggles brought him around as did Arizona's finger snapping in his face. With him being brought back to reality, he looked up at their heads and noticed a familiar looking crown there. Something that made him sigh before he looked himself over and pinched his nose. "And thus, the mystery of why I am dressed as Mario is solved..."
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
Oof, a physical minefield to worry about, and a figurative one. Nachi can't seem to get a break can she? As for the Victims of the mines... well that's a detail for later~
is it wrong that I'm kinda hoping we see this get called back to later down the road at some point? I really hope it does, so I'm gonna note this for later reference.
one yeah my stuff is being referenced.
Two, yes they do raise all sorts of hell when they aren't out at sea. Normally its confined to the PT boat barracks but lately its been getting out.
Poor Tago, and Urakaze. They really do need more ships, I mean sure there's a whole bunch of PT Corgis running around but they ain't enough. They really ain't despite their best efforts.
rofl:Be prepared to do a lot of sighing Nachi. The dogs tend to grow on ya. Just be glad that you're not conducting radio coms with dog-themed code words and the like.
Aye, sailing into a minefield is quite harrowing. Its a good thing PT Boats are good at clearing out mines despite not being dedicated minesweepers.
Aye finding the minelayers and whatever it is that's supporting them, or is supported by them is paramount to resolving this mine situation. And its a nice touch to see Nachi reading up the reports from the Night Squadrons, perhaps she might be able to piece something together that a certain Lieutenant and his XO have been attempting to piece together.
Well depending on whether its Clayton in the Lt's office covering for him while he's elsewhere, or the Lt himself. Hamakaze is most likely to get both the reports and a candy of some sort for her going through the trouble of heading out to the PT Boat Barracks.
... then again, perhaps that could be the reason why Hamakaze shouted that she's on it before running off.
rofl:Okay my bets are that soldier was a marine, probably a lance Corporal. I don't know why but if anyone is ever gonna think about going after the forbidden fruit first. It's most likely going to be a marine... its either that or he's trying to imagine what'll happen if he gives her her own body weight in rip-its....
Still though, don't even think about it solider. Though if she's trying to flirt with ya... honestly I'm sure what advice to give, but das a minefield not even minesweepers will dare approach.
:lol yay more references to Doggos! Though I do hope Nachi doesn't have to knock down any more doors too.Pfc Ellen: Not my fault. They asked me for advice on how to get and hold a boy's attention. I happily obliged.
Lt Corgi: Goddammit Ellen there's a very clear difference between innocently getting a boy's attention and Musashi & Iku's ways of getting attention!
Pfc Ellen: Lieutenant, I taught them both ways~ Its best to have a wide variety in one's arsenal after all~
Lt Corgi: *headdesks*
Yeah if I had to choose between going down in a battle or going down because of something like a mine. I myself would choose the fight. So I can understand Nachi's thought here of her to rather sink in a battle than by the hands of a mine.
As for what's with the Dog puns? Well Nachi you're spending time around PT corgis. One of your sisters is known to be a hungry wolf and is dating a man who likes puns. And the Human Personnel that are the (very much overworked) Support Unit Staff for those PT Corgis to one degree or another like making dog puns.
So its coming from two sides.
Just embrace the puns Nachi, life will be easier if you do~
Ah yes, and now begins the examination of the fallout that's occurring in the wake of the Package arriving to Cathy. Poor Karen, I can easily see that she's practically beyond drained by this situation.
One that's a gigantic understatement, almost british level of understatement there.
Two, that's a rather apt way of describing what its like to sortie and get battle damage in a way a person could understand. Hell I understood it pretty well because while I'm lucky that I've never been shot but I've more then a few things more or less blow up in my face.
That description though, mostly of her old life I presume. That's a rather chilling way to imagine and put into words what it is she's experienced. And that last part? I can very easily imagine how Nachi's voice sounds like in that last part and its frankly terrfying. Karen is damn lucky it isn't her that Nachi's Ire is directed at.
Yeah Like I can't stress how Fortunate Cathy is that it was Nachi and her sisters that caught wind of it first. Cuz no lie, if it had been any of the people Nachi mentioned or even just the Fletchers?... yeah That would have ended very very badly for Cathy. For everyone involved.
Nachi, not everyone knows about Enterprise's nickname. You have to forgive Karen for not knowing. She's probably going to go get herself familiarized with all the ship nicknames so to maybe be better prepared next time.
I see that Enterprise despite not being present has a long-reaching and pervasive reputation among the returned Japanese Ship girls. Then again that's not really a surprise.
You'll live Nachi, it won't be easy but I'm sure everything will work out in the end.
Cathy part of you knew the truth from the get-go but you wouldn't accept it and so you built a fortress to deny what was real. At least until something came along and knocked your fort down as though it were made of cardboard. I do like the visual image the description here provides.
That's interesting to know that she drilled it into her head to never lie to a doctor. I wonder if it was the circumstances of her Father's passing that caused this. Or perhaps something else. Hmm things to ponder about.
and Cathy its not the end of your life as you knew it. This isn't the Early 20th century anymore were mental health treatment and mental healthcare was... bad. If you show signs of recovery and put the work into it. You will have a life again, you will have those opportunities. That chance and that trust. You just have to work hard for it. Now pick yer self up by the bootstraps and get on it young lady.
Its interesting to see that apparently everyone can see the Chibis. And its a hopeful thing to see Cathy give what's left of her Breakfast to them. I honestly didn't think she'd do even that, but that's a sign of progress.
Well sad for you Cathy they ain't leaving any time soon. Maybe they will once you're happy, actually happy; you can't BS them on that matter, and accepting of what life has become. But until then, they're gonna give you company.
Cathy, they may retaliate if you don't accept what reality has become and apologize for your past actions. Once you do that, you'll find yourself with a bigger family then you could have possibly ever imagined. And they will be there to help and support you in whatever way they can. But first you need to let them in your damaged heart so they can help you repair it.
Cathy, the Doctor has a point here. You're being more stubborn than a standard here. Your brother doesn't think that of you. That isn't how he would put it. Sooner or later your gonna understand that there was nothing he could do.
Hmm while I'm curious to learn what James Hunter looks like when he's angry. And I'm glad he verbally tore a clique apart to presumably make them stop bullying Cathy. But for now I'll push that thought aside for now.
Cathy, are you certain you would want your brother to get angry at your Grandmother? While its quiet possible that he could have made her seen what she was doing and all that. But its equally likely that he could have made her hate him, her and their mother even more. Or worse perhaps, things have escalated too severely and someone could end up in prison, or a coffin. Is that what you'd what Cathy? Your brother to be serving time behind bars because things got out of hand, or him end up in the ground? I've seen firsthand how ugly a family dispute can get, and I've personally witness just how quickly it can escalate to something where someone could end up dead with a friend of mine.
Sometimes the best cure is to cut the toxic person out from your life. Perhaps Cathy this is your best course of action. Of course though if you are so bold and willing to brave it yourself. You can be the one to confront your grandmother about it and tell her off.
Or could it be that she tried that and it didn't work? I suppose we'll find out eventually, maybe.
Cathy. While Ashigara may be desperate, she's desperate to find the one who's hand she felt when she was summoned . I'm certain she'll learn about those details eventually and she'll feel like a real baka about thinking otherwise. Its natural to not want a member of your family to die. But he's risking his life so that your's is safe. I hope Cathy can understand that someday soon. Preferably before something makes her understand the hard way.
Like Abyssal attack hard way. Which is something I fear may loom over her like dark specter. Admittedly that idea is pretty far-fetched, but it isn't something I'd completely rule out. After all the Great Lakes are fairly large Body of water, and there's a degree of losses in it that could be the basis for something to crawl up...
Ahhh now I see the thread with prior chapters... also Cathy The wolf is a CA not a BB. Get it right!
And I'm 100% certain that Cathy is referring to Shigure here. If it ain't her, then I'm eating one of my hats.
But also Cathy, Shigure won't hate you, if fact she above all other ship girls will probably help heal you the most. I mean for SECNAV's sake Shigure stood firm and tried to extend the Olive branch despite her fear when she got cornered by Pennsylvania.
She won't hate you, ya ain't a abyssal so she isn't gonna hate ya.
At least she's realizing how great of a fuck-up she made. Now if she can just get past the despair stage and get started on the recovery stage. She'll be good.
Doctor if you meant by that statement that James didn't tell the Wolf about Cathy, ye be very wrong.
Yeah that was mistake calling Myoukou that on instagram. But if you make nice with the Cruisers and when, not if when, your brother Marry's Ashigara. At least your sisters in-law will try to keep you safe from the otaku..
I wonder to whom the doctor is typing that email to... hmmm. Will need more clues before I can theorize on that further.
Now this here? This part here. This is what is giving me hope that Cathy is going to be healed by the Chibis and then soon enough by speaking to the shipgirls themselves. There's going to be a period where she's going to have to probably apologize to for her past action for each new one she speaks to over Skype but she'll finally have the wound in her heart closed.
Because honestly if there wasn't any hope for Cathy to heal, she wouldn't have allowed mini-poi to climb into her hand. Let alone give it headpats with her finger.
The fact that the weather went from snow storm to the sun beginning to shine just adds more impact to it. Surely as a Amature Photographer Cathy is gonna look at the scenery out that window. With mini-poi in hand and the other Chibi's around her, and I bet ya she's gonna feel something shift in her for the better. A ray of light to guide her out of the darkness.
All in all, this was a amazing chapter. And I so Look forward to seeing what comes next.
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A Fleet of Fog
- Location
- 'Murica
With a single twitch of her twin rudders battleship Missouri fell into formation beside her elder sister. The two Iowas made for the Admiral's office at a brisk walk that would've been perilously close to a flat-out sprint for anyone without the shockingly long legs typical of the class.
"The fuck did you do?" snapped Jersey. The black dragon didn't bother even glancing at Mo's direction, and even an angry wave of her hand was unnecessary. The sisters had been blood long enough that such overt depictions of sisterly rage were unnecessary.
"The fuck you mean?" countered Missouri. The two Iowas ducked under a doorframe and picked up the pace a little. The Admiral's message had been sparse on details but heavy on tense urgency.
"I've been on my best fucking behavior," said the older battleship. "Putting out fires set by an over-caffeinated poi. This—" she waved generally at nothing in particular—"is not my fault."
"What if it's Wisky?" opined Mo.
"What if it's Wisky?" cooed back Jersey in a mocking imitation of her sister's rumbling contralto that any third-party observer would have a hard time distinguishing from her own.
"Okay, good point." Mo scratched at her temple. "But it can't be me. All I've done is nap with 'Laska."
"Motherfucker," Jersey spat under her breath. The muscles in her thighs tensed as her whole body coiled for a heartbeat.
"What?" asked Mo.
"If it's not me," said Jersey, "and it's not Wisky, and it's not you… then the Admiral's upset about something other than just an Iowa playing grab-ass. Something real."
"Mother fucker," cursed Mo. "I hope it was you."
"Yeah," Jersey tugged her vest smooth and ducked into the Admiral's office. "Me too, sis."
The room was dimmed to make Admiral Williams' projected Visage at least a little more visible on the makeshift screen. Wisky was already in attendance, and under normal circumstances the glare coming off the half-spheres of brilliant white skin would've earned no end of Ire from both her elder sisters.
But the look on Williams' face made it clear that this was no time for sisterly sniping.
"Sir," Jersey stiffened. Beside her, Mo echoed the motion, as did Wisky.
"Commanders," Williams wore a weary smile. "God, it's good to see the three of you."
"Thank you, sir," said Mo. "It's good to be back."
"And just in time," said Williams. "We've picked up a strike force heading for Sasebo. A number of fast battleships lead by the Tosa princess."
"Oh, Arizona's gonna be pissed," said Mo.
"Unfortunately, that's just the problem." Williams scowled. "The bulk of Richardson's fleet is either too slow to force an engagement, too lightly armored to survive, or on maternity leave. Yamato has the speed and armor, but without a screen—"
"They'd take her apart," Jersey scowled. "Yeah. Anything else?"
Williams shook his head. "Our intel is very sketchy at the moment, but I'm sending a fast taskforce over before this gets any worse. I don't want her fleet turned back, I want it destroyed and her base turned to rubble, understood?"
"Yes sir," said all three Iowas in concert.
"With the battle line's return, we should be able to hold Pearl without much problem. I want you girls out there doing what you do best."
Jersey ran her tongue along the edge of her teeth. Just as she'd suspected, they'd all turned razor sharp. "It'd be a pleasure, sir."
Her uniform was rumpled and her hair had more split ends than actual hair. Her skin was pale and dark bags hug from her lidded gaze. She still hadn't been sleeping much. The poor girl looked exhausted. More then that, she looked terrified. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"What? No!" Green almost bolted to his feet. Hood was… Hood was delicate. More delicate than any battleship—save maybe for the Iowas if the stories he'd heard were accurate. But she was still a battleship. The stubborn need to shrug off or ignore her troubles was written into the very steel of her hull. "What can I do for you."
"I was wondering," Hood took a long sip from her mug and trailed off. "She's dead, isn't she?"
"Bismark?"
Hood opened her mouth, but no sound came out. A moment later she closed it and just nodded.
"Yes, she's dead," said Green. "Yanks found her off Hawaii. Pounced in the night and pounded her to scrap."
"You're certain?" asked Hood. They way she asked it… it almost sounded like she was praying the answer was no. "Certain she's dead?"
"I can pull up the report." Green typed away on his computer. "Give you a printout if you want."
"I'd… I'd like that," said Hood. "I think."
"Um…" Green leaned back in his chair, not sure where to start. "Hood, I'm sorry if this is… they haven't stopped, have they?"
Hood shook her head. "It's every time I close my bloody eyes now." The battleship scowled. "That bloody battleship coming at me through the fog."
"The fuck did you do?" snapped Jersey. The black dragon didn't bother even glancing at Mo's direction, and even an angry wave of her hand was unnecessary. The sisters had been blood long enough that such overt depictions of sisterly rage were unnecessary.
"The fuck you mean?" countered Missouri. The two Iowas ducked under a doorframe and picked up the pace a little. The Admiral's message had been sparse on details but heavy on tense urgency.
"I've been on my best fucking behavior," said the older battleship. "Putting out fires set by an over-caffeinated poi. This—" she waved generally at nothing in particular—"is not my fault."
"What if it's Wisky?" opined Mo.
"What if it's Wisky?" cooed back Jersey in a mocking imitation of her sister's rumbling contralto that any third-party observer would have a hard time distinguishing from her own.
"Okay, good point." Mo scratched at her temple. "But it can't be me. All I've done is nap with 'Laska."
"Motherfucker," Jersey spat under her breath. The muscles in her thighs tensed as her whole body coiled for a heartbeat.
"What?" asked Mo.
"If it's not me," said Jersey, "and it's not Wisky, and it's not you… then the Admiral's upset about something other than just an Iowa playing grab-ass. Something real."
"Mother fucker," cursed Mo. "I hope it was you."
"Yeah," Jersey tugged her vest smooth and ducked into the Admiral's office. "Me too, sis."
The room was dimmed to make Admiral Williams' projected Visage at least a little more visible on the makeshift screen. Wisky was already in attendance, and under normal circumstances the glare coming off the half-spheres of brilliant white skin would've earned no end of Ire from both her elder sisters.
But the look on Williams' face made it clear that this was no time for sisterly sniping.
"Sir," Jersey stiffened. Beside her, Mo echoed the motion, as did Wisky.
"Commanders," Williams wore a weary smile. "God, it's good to see the three of you."
"Thank you, sir," said Mo. "It's good to be back."
"And just in time," said Williams. "We've picked up a strike force heading for Sasebo. A number of fast battleships lead by the Tosa princess."
"Oh, Arizona's gonna be pissed," said Mo.
"Unfortunately, that's just the problem." Williams scowled. "The bulk of Richardson's fleet is either too slow to force an engagement, too lightly armored to survive, or on maternity leave. Yamato has the speed and armor, but without a screen—"
"They'd take her apart," Jersey scowled. "Yeah. Anything else?"
Williams shook his head. "Our intel is very sketchy at the moment, but I'm sending a fast taskforce over before this gets any worse. I don't want her fleet turned back, I want it destroyed and her base turned to rubble, understood?"
"Yes sir," said all three Iowas in concert.
"With the battle line's return, we should be able to hold Pearl without much problem. I want you girls out there doing what you do best."
Jersey ran her tongue along the edge of her teeth. Just as she'd suspected, they'd all turned razor sharp. "It'd be a pleasure, sir."
—|—|—
"Excuse me, Lieutenant?" The tall, elegant figure of battleship Hood stopped by Lieutenant Green's desk with a steaming mug of tea in hand. Only today, like the past several weeks, she was anything but elegant.Her uniform was rumpled and her hair had more split ends than actual hair. Her skin was pale and dark bags hug from her lidded gaze. She still hadn't been sleeping much. The poor girl looked exhausted. More then that, she looked terrified. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"What? No!" Green almost bolted to his feet. Hood was… Hood was delicate. More delicate than any battleship—save maybe for the Iowas if the stories he'd heard were accurate. But she was still a battleship. The stubborn need to shrug off or ignore her troubles was written into the very steel of her hull. "What can I do for you."
"I was wondering," Hood took a long sip from her mug and trailed off. "She's dead, isn't she?"
"Bismark?"
Hood opened her mouth, but no sound came out. A moment later she closed it and just nodded.
"Yes, she's dead," said Green. "Yanks found her off Hawaii. Pounced in the night and pounded her to scrap."
"You're certain?" asked Hood. They way she asked it… it almost sounded like she was praying the answer was no. "Certain she's dead?"
"I can pull up the report." Green typed away on his computer. "Give you a printout if you want."
"I'd… I'd like that," said Hood. "I think."
"Um…" Green leaned back in his chair, not sure where to start. "Hood, I'm sorry if this is… they haven't stopped, have they?"
Hood shook her head. "It's every time I close my bloody eyes now." The battleship scowled. "That bloody battleship coming at me through the fog."
- Location
- USA
May I ask how SoDak will be characterized when she turns up? KQC mad scientist? Azur Lane emotionless? Something else entirely?
The "mad scientist" SoDak isn't from KCQ; it's mainly from the SB version of the Rules thread, spun (somewhat) out of her being in weapons R&D in Greatest Generation.
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
And Now I present to you, An Officer and his Dogs Part 6. I hope ya'll enjoy.
[=]
After double checking to make sure all the bolts were accounted for. Simon lifted the magnifiers up to see everything that wasn't very close to him clearly again. After a quick rub of the eyes with the back of his hand to speed up readjustment, he carefully took hold of the tube launcher and lifted it off the dog sized vest it was attached to. He swore he felt the vest stretch slightly under his fingers as he pulled off the heavy launcher. No doubt he figured it was the dog this vest belonged to stretching out as it felt the last of the heavy launchers be removed.
Despite the tiny size of the miniature torpedo tube launcher it still weighed far more than it had any right to. At the very least it wasn't still loaded with Torpedoes; he had removed those from all four launch tubes an hour earlier.
When he placed the tube launcher down next to it three brethren on the trolley that was to the right side of his work station, the heavy-duty cart groaned ominously under the weight. Simon waited a few moments to figure whether or not if the cart was about to suddenly collapse, or break a wheel.
On another Heavy Duty Cart that was flanking the left side of his station, laid four miniature roll racks. Their mounting bolts inside separate tiny baggies. While certainly lighter than the older launch tubes, the miniature roll racks were still heavier than their appearance suggested they had any right to be.
Simon heard Sanderson swear up a fierce storm roughly twenty feet behind him. From the sound of it, Simon figured Sanderson must have dropped something. He pitied the WA-5, dropping something in the equipment building meant it could be very hard to find it. Especially by the gun mounting station, where it was likened to searching for a needle in a haystack due to all the tiny bits, bolts and miniature shell cases that cluttered around it despite all attempts to make it completely clean.
However the Petty Officer didn't dwell on the thought much longer, he still had this set of drop racks to install on this rigging vest and he didn't want to find another angrily-written, postage stamp-sized paper on his station's table again. This particular PT Corgi who's vest he was working on currently had been waiting for far too long to get the new racks.
"At least with those new Ensigns I've actually got time to get this damn backlog cleared out." Simon quietly said to himself as he placed the first drop rack, down on the spot on the vest were the old tube launcher had resided. After opening the bag of mounting bolts, he hunched down and flipped the Magnifying glasses back down.
It was a strange experience, looking at a PT Corgi's rigging vest through the lenses. Especially after he carefully rested the bolts into their holes and went to retrieve the modified watchmaker's screwdriver needed to tighten the bolts down. When he looked back through the lens at bolts, he saw that the slightly crocked bolts were straightened out in their holes. Stranger still, the fabric of the vest now looked more like wooden planking. In fact as he focused to tighten down the bolts to the first torpedo drop rack, Simon did indeed see wood planking.
It was the strangest experience but it was one that he was now used to. Unlike when he had first joined the unit and changed a PT Corgi's torpedo tube launcher to the drop rack system. That first time, the experience left him with a severe migraine when he had tried to rationalize what he witnessed through the magnifying lenses. Nowadays though it didn't bother him, so long as he didn't think to too hard about how it worked, that is.
It perhaps took Simon 20 minutes in all to install the lightweight roll racks. When he finished, he pushed the magnifying binoculars up once more before turning in his station's chair. "Yo Sanderson, I just finished installing the drop rack on 118's rigging, how's mounting that 20 mm on the tail end of 96's rigging going?"
"Just Peachy, after I finally found the damn pin for the gunmount" Was Sanderson's rather annoyed response. Simon sighed and got up from his chair, taking a moment to stretch to get the stiffness out of his back.
"Want some help there?"
"Nah, I've it got now. Though I'm gonna need some help with mounting that Recoilless Rifle on the front of 87's rigging." Sanderson said as he finished with affixing and assembling the miniature 20 mm mount.
A minute later Lake was next to him with his tool bag in hand. The Petty Officer took a moment to eye the trolley with the miniature M40 recoilless rifle sitting on it. One that Lake was pretty sure was the same one that had gone missing from a National Guard depot some months back. Though how did it end up like how it was now was best not thought upon. For that path lead to more headaches than he was willing to put up with anytime soon, or really speaking, ever.
Lake glanced to his left and saw Sanderson was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah I know, I'm thinking the same thing too Lake and I think its best we don't try figuring how 87's crew managed to do that. Leave that for the civilian scientists and those creative Madmen in DARPA."
"Yeah you got a point there. Besides, once we get this damn thing mounted we can stop and get some lunch. Today's special is grilled catfish apparently." Lake said to Sanderson, whom grinned at the mention of grilled Catfish.
As the two went about mounting the miniature recoilless rifle Sanderson briefly glanced over to Lake after securing the last of bolts for the custom made gun mount to the deck. "So, I heard the Lt was heading to the range this morning... You think he's doing alright?" Sanderson asked Lake with a measure of concern.
Due to his work orders, Sanderson had left the Barracks building after being woken earlier than normal and after the earlier than normal feeding of the day patrols before they were sortied. He honestly couldn't really remember what it was that had prompted the early waking. He hadn't had enough coffee or sleep in the last few days to really be aware of everything going on when he first woke up. He hadn't seen the Lt since then but the look in William's eyes when he had last seen him didn't bode well. Simon finished securing the custom mounting arm to the gun mount base before he gave a response.
"No, I honestly don't think he is Sanderson. From what I overheard the Gunny talking with Sergeant Banks, two more fishing boats stuck mines and blew up before dawn today."
"Jesus Christ, that makes four boats since this sea mine shit started that have gone up. Were there any Survivors?" Sanderson asked while bracing himself for the inevitable grim answer. He had known something caused him to get woken up earlier, but because no one stopped him from going through his motions. He hadn't realized what the exact cause was. And now he felt a pit forming in his stomach.
Lake sighed and looked down for a moment before looking back up to meet Sanderson's eyes. A dark expression had overtaken his blue eyes. "Between the two boats, there were ten survivors the dogs fished out of the water... but only six of them survived long enough to make it back to shore to get medical treatment."
Sanderson bite the corner of his lip at the news. He had heard some kind of commotion going on outside earlier from within the building. But now knowing what exactly had caused it, left a bitter taste in his mouth. "The dogs have found and blown up how many mines since this shit started?"
Petty Officer Lake closed his eyes brief to release a resigned sigh before meeting Sanderson's eyes once more. "As of Yesterday, the count was 254 Sea mines found and destroyed. No doubt by the end of today that number is gonna be even higher."
"And 3 fishing vessels and a small cargo ship still got nailed by those things? Fuckin Hell man this is bad." Sanderson said with a mixture of dread and concern. It had been three days since this sea mine thing started and it just seemed to be getting worse with each passing day.
The two men went about mounting the rest of the recoilless rifle in silence. Though afterwards they had one more high priority work order to do, re-calibrate the gun mounts for a few of turrets of Night Squadron Three. Especially given that they had gunnery practice scheduled later today before their patrol rotation.
[=]
William Corgi steadily exhaled and pulled the trigger of his service weapon twice in a quick but steady succession. The Beretta kicked against his hand twice but he was pretty certain that he struck his mark. It was only then that he allowed himself to inhale. Even now it still felt a little strange to shoot with his left hand when he was primarily right-handed. Especially since he was using his dominate eye to aim and he was shooting with his left.
William unloaded the now empty magazine; he pulled backed and locked the slide open. Then he checked to make sure the magazine well and chamber was clear before he placed it down on the bench in front of him. It was only after that did he push the button that would bring the target in. When he took the humanoid-shaped target paper off of its holder to inspect it, he saw a very tight grouping of holes located on the target's head and center of mass.
The Lieutenant could hear the Range Master whistle behind him even through his hearing protection. "Now that was impressive. Using your left hand to shoot but yer right eye to aim, you sure you're not left handed, or naturally ambidextrous?"
"Yeah I'm sure about that. It's just I've done a whole lotta practice to get this proficient with my off-hand." William said in an almost stoic, mechanical manner as he handed the target to the Range Officer. Only the faintest ghost of a smile on his face and a sliver of pride in his voice kept the Lieutenant's response from being completely cold and detached as he took a fresh target and affixed it to the holder.
William took the time to clean up the bass casings there were scattered in and around his booth. It was only after the area was free of spent brass casings, did he accept the next set of magazines he had signed off for. It wouldn't be very professional of him after all to slip and fall on a shell casing while at firing range.
After setting the magazines on the bench, he pushed the button to send the target down the firing range. This time the target was 35 meters downrange, the furthest the indoor range could go. He waited for the Range Master to declare the range was going hot.
"Range Going Hot!" Bellowed the gruff and worn voice of the Range Master, signaling to all present, if there had been any others present at this hour that the range was now being actively used.
On hearing the words William loaded the first magazine into the Beretta and took aim at the target. For just a fleeting moment, The Lieutenant saw something more than a vaguely human shaped target downrange.
For a single instant, he saw a pair of glowing red-orange hate-filled eyes set upon an unearthly pale face on the target, looking right back at him. It was her, the thing that haunted some of his worst reoccurring nightmares. And the thing he utterly despised with all of his heart. His body tensed and rage gripped him. He wished for nothing more than to destroy the eyes he saw down the bladed sight of his Beretta.
So instead of freezing upon seeing the object of his worst nightmares like how most people would. The Lieutenant opened fired at the target with a cold focused anger. He did not blink, he did not breathe in nor did he breathe out any further than he had done an instant before. There wasn't even so much as a single errant muscle twitch in his body as he opened fire with the full magnitude of his anger in that transient moment with the full intent to destroy the eyes looking back at him. In less than 3seconds he had expended the entire 15-round magazine.
Click
Click
William blinked once after his ears registered the sound of the dry fire and the apparition of his imagination, of his nightmares, was gone. He then blinked twice more as he drew a slightly smoke-filled breath as what had just transpired finally registered to him. He silently released that breath and then made the pistol safe before he called a cease fire. Despite the fact that he was the only one besides the Range Master currently at the range at this hour, William wasn't going to let a detail like that make him be lax with protocol.
Pushing the button to bring the target back to him, he took it off the holder and inspected it. His breath hitched ever so slightly as he counted a total of fifteen holes in the paper target's head area. They formed something roughly shaped like an infinity symbol within the confines of the head area. Had this been a person, they would have been dead long before the third bullet had struck. For seven holes encircled the area where the left eye would be, several more encircled the area of the right eye and the last hole was squarely at the midpoint between where someone's eyes would be.
"Okay, now you're just showing off or you were picturing someone whose eyes you really hated." Was the somewhat sarcastic, somewhat sympatric reply of the Range Master as he looked over the Lieutenant's shoulder to see the paper target's state.
William felt a sensation of numbness spread through him for a few moments. He drew in a fairly deep breath and slowly released it before he was able to give a reply to the Range Master. "I…didn't quite intend to do that..."
"So does that mean you're stopping now Lieutenant? You've been here for almost five hours now. Longer than you are normally here each week."
William glanced to the other man in disbelief before he checked his wristwatch. To his surprise he saw that the time was indeed almost 1015. His brow frowned, how did he lose track of time like that? Was what happened before dawn this morning affecting him more than he first thought?
He didn't try to dwell on the thought too much for the moment. Instead he went back to the firing line and placed the unloaded and cleared Beretta back into its lockable transport case before closing and locking the case. He then gathered up and returned the remaining magazines of ammunition to the Range Master.
Before he left the firing range though, William did walk back to the booth he had been using and cleaned up the shell casings from the last magazine he had fired. Once that was done, he took the locked box holding his Service weapon and headed back to the PT Boat Barracks.
William couldn't and wouldn't excuse himself for staying at the range longer than was necessary. He couldn't forgive himself for making Clayton take care of both of their duties for that long, despite the fact he had told his XO and oldest friend that he'd be at the range for the mandatory four hours needed each week. William silently swore that when he got back to the PT Boat Barracks, he'd double down on his work. To make it up to Clayton, and he desperately hoped his friend would forgive him for his slipup, for his weakness.
[=]
Sergeant Banks monitored the laptop's display while controlling the rather large heavily modified drone that was observing the floating target barge a couple miles out on the lake. He saw in his peripheral vision and heard Gunnery Sergeant Clayton speaking to the dogs of Night Patrol Squadron 3 over a handheld radio.Whilst also looking through a spotting scope to confirm that they were in the proper starting location for the Noon exercise. It was practice day for Night Squadron 3. Lieutenant Corgi was adamant on trying to keep the PT Corgis skilled at both day and nighttime fighting and now it was Squadron 3's turn to do daytime maneuver and attack training.
So he and Clayton were observing the dogs of Squadron 3 from the floating docks that the PT Corgis normally sortied from. They communicating with and remotely observing the 12 members of Night Squadron 3 as they conducted their maneuver drills and gunnery practice a couple miles out on Lake Pontchartrain. Clayton was operating a backpack SINCGARS AN/PRC-119 set to speak with the Corgi's out on the water. While also observing the target barge with a powerful 20-60x80 set affixed to a heavy duty tripod.
David on the other hand was operating a drone normally used to film chases in movies. It had been heavily modified by him, Desmond and Sanderson for use in obtaining aerial overhead views of the PT Corgi's when they did maneuver drills and firing training. So they and the dogs could better review each drill and find ways to make improvements to each squadron's abilities.
The biggest modifications done to the drone was installing a bank of more powerful longer-lasting rechargeable batteries, which gave it an approximant flight time of three hours. Buffing the gyro stabilizers so the footage it took wasn't shaking despite the weight of the added modifications. Stronger, more efficient motors to help it retain its prior performance despite the modifications they made to it. A longer ranged antenna so it could operate up to four miles out with the backpack transmitter booster set he was current wearing. Lastly and most importantly a radio transponder and Radar Beacon to help keep the dogs from shooting it down when they did AA drills with cheap RC aircraft. Though to doubly help with keeping the dogs from shooting it down by mistake, the drone was painted Naka-Orange to help the PT Corgis who didn't yet have radar installed on them properly ID it.
He gave a quick glance over to the Gunnery sergeant and just marveled at the spotting scope he had set up, despite the fact he had seen it more than a dozen times before. David knew the spotting scope and tripod were personal items of the Gunny. Though he did honestly wonder how Clayton was about to afford the set up because when he had checked online how much the gear cost once before in the past. It was something on the order of almost five grand for both the scope and its tripod alone. And the price of all the accessories he knew that Clayton had for the thing added another four grand to total cost of the set up.
Though when he once again looked at the body of both the tripod and spotting scope, David could faintly see the scratches of wear and use it had on it. That and what looked like careful attempts at repainting it hinted to him that it was an item the XO has owned for some time now. Or maybe perhaps he had inherited from someone else.
Though his speculation about where and when the Gunny had obtained the spotting scope and its accessories. When he saw the Gunny raising the handheld radio back up to his face, he knew the attack run drill was about to begin. The Dogs of Squadron 3 had done exceptionally well with their maneuver drills and formation drills. Though now came the main show and Banks was anticipating what was to come next.
"Knight 3, Knight 3 this is Devil-Dog Actual How do you read? Over." Clayton said over the handheld before releasing the transmission button to wait for a response. When he heard a series of short barks come through a few seconds later he held down the talk button once more. "Affirm Knight 3. You may begin your attack run, over." Clayton said into the handheld before he released the button to end the transmission, his eye never once leaving the eyepiece of the spotting scope.
"David do you got a good overhead of this?"
"Yeah Gunny, Drone's holding 250 feet above the deck currently. You want me to come down 50?"
"Negative, Climb to 650 and do a small orbit for now. Though bring her down to 200 when they're going into the terminal phase of their attack run. I want to see what their torpedo placement looks like."
"Wilco Gunny" Banks said as he brought drone up to the requested altitude. His eyes were glued to the altimeter and video feed as he held the drone steady in the air despite the nippy breeze that was currently blowing across the lake's surface. It was a good thing the camera on the drone was on self-stabilizing gyros or else the footage would have been very shaky from his small corrections. No matter how many times he saw it, he was always awestruck by the sight of 12 PT Corgis in a squadron churning the water to foam. As their screws bit in and sent them hurtling towards their target at their designed top speeds.
Watching the individual wakes left by the dogs from up high. Banks saw the Corgis split into two groups that circled to the Port and Starboard sides of the target barge at a distance of nearly 1500 yards. A moment later came the chatter of gunfire. However it wasn't the mighty roars of .50 caliber Machine gun opening up. Nor the thunderous thumps of 20, 37 and 40mm cannons that echoed out across the lake's surface and out of the laptop's speakers.
The dogs must've decided to keep their weapons to their miniature sizes in order to not wreck the target barge for Banks didn't hear any of their numerous 50's firing save for the almost inaudible pops the drone's microphone was picking up from its station. Though the various canons firing did sound like actual gunfire, with the 40mm Bofors sounding like a slower firing 50 cal. or perhaps a .408.
He watched the leading PT Corgi in each group laid down smoke to conceal their fellows as they laid down miniature but still withering barrages of fire onto metal Structures that were added to the barge to represent the general expected shapes of sensitive items on warships. Items like Radar masts, Search lights, Torpedo tubes, AA guns, Fire directors and depth charge racks. Banks could see, even through the drone's vantage point the impact sparks from the streams of miniature tracer fire that raked across the steel mock-ups of a warship's more vulnerable equipment despite the fact that it was midday.
David also saw from the drone feed the leading dog in the two groups turn sharply and complete their semi-circle of smoke. For a brief moment the sounds of fire ceased rolling across the lake and coming through his laptop's speakers. He couldn't see any more tracers striking the target barge and the steel mock-ups welded on it. He knew why the barrage of fire had ceased; the dogs were coming around to launch their torpedoes from multiple directions.
Through the Drone's camera he saw the PT Corgis wakes lining up to strike from the nine to three O'clock positions. And then they emerged from the smoke laid down by the leading two dogs of the two groups and closed the distance to 700 yards before launching their torpedoes. Following the instructions given to him by Clayton earlier, David steadily dropped the drone down to 200 feet from the deck just as the Dogs launched their torpedoes in one coordinated mass drop. Ten Torpedoes aimed at the starboard side of the barge, ten aimed at the port side and four were aimed at the bow.
The Sergeant saw that as one the dogs turned sharply around and activated their smoke generators before moving to disengage using their high speed and maneuverability once they had launched their torpedoes. Stern mounted 40mm guns peppering the mocked-up steel superstructure of the target barge once more, stopping their fire only when the dogs had reentered the smoke that had been laid down earlier. Through the Drone's aerial vantage point, David could just barely see the bright neon orange color the torpedoes were painted and the bubble trails left by them as they closed in on the barge.
Seconds later the torpedoes connected, of 24 launches David had observed, 22 were hits. Had those been live torpedoes instead of training torpedoes, the combined explosions of even the torpedoes' miniature forms would have sent the target barge straight to the bottom of the lake in under a minute tops. That was his best guess anyways, perhaps Simon or The Lieutenant would have had a better idea but he figured that many hits would have sent just about anything to the bottom, had they been live. Thankfully though these were just training torpedoes and thus they didn't have a live warhead. Trying to find another Barge to act as a target ship would have been a nightmare and a half for them. They had been lucky to get even this one for the job!
Now though David had one more task to do. Relay to Clayton how many of the torpedoes launched by the PT Corgis had found their mark. He couldn't help but grin like a fool when he glanced back over to the Gunny.
"Jim I've got recorded twenty two strikes out of twenty four launches. Two Misses" David said as he started the process of bringing the drone back to the docks.
Clayton looked up from the spotting scope and turned slightly to face Sergeant Banks. A small smirk plastered on his face. "Roger that David, Now to bring the dogs' home." Clayton said with a fair measure of pride in his voice. He raised the handheld up once more and pushed the transmit button. "Knight 3, Knight 3. This is Devil-Dog Actual, How do you read? Over."
David could faintly hear the various kinds of barks coming out of the handheld radio set. It was still very strange that he could intuitively understand what was being said by the dogs to a very large degree. Though he had just chalked it up to the power of MSSB allowing him to understand the dogs, or perhaps it was because he was the designated OPS Officer for the Support the unit. Even though he was just a Sergeant, but he had been the third man to join the unit and was assigned the position at the time. So he was grandfathered in his current position within the unit. When he heard the barking coming over the radio Clayton was holding stop, he glanced over to the Gunnery Sergeant.
"Fish run netted two-two catches with two getting away. Bring the chew toy back to the toy box and then return to kennel house for debrief. The exercise is concluded. Devil-Dog Actual out." Clayton said into the handheld before putting the line up in its receiver and powering the radio set down.
Banks on the other hand guided the medium sized drone to land by the equipment building, so that he could stow the drone safely inside later. After that was done and he confirmed the drone was now turned off. He started to pack up the rugged laptop, folding chair and folding table he has set up. "So damn glad we don't have to do the fix-up work on the target barge after the dogs get done using it for target practice."
"Damn right we're lucky. Though the Seabees are gonna have an interesting time pulling out those practice torpedoes from the barge's hull. I saw in the scope that at least four of the training torpedoes strike and stick into the barge."
"I'm sure the Seabees will have an interesting time pulling em out. Though personally speaking, I'm looking forward to seeing the pictures of the damage to superstructure targets this time around. I'm pretty if it had been full scale munitions striking a real target, it would have sawed off that forward director and the forward radar mast. What do you think Gunny?"
"I'm thinking the same thing there Banks" Clayton said as he and Banks headed back to the barracks building to feed Squadron 3's dogs and give them a score of their maneuver and attack drills.
Though as they walked they soon heard the pitter-patters of the Corgis of squadron 3 catching up to him and Clayton, before slowing down to keep pace with the two Marines. As the group was coming up to the Barracks building a thought came to Banks' mind, one that had been nagging at him since before they ran Squadron 3's drills and now it was to the point where he couldn't help but voice it. "You think the Lt is doing alright Gunny? He seemed…detached, especially when he got back from the range at around 1035. You think it has to do with what happened before dawn this morning?"
Banks was a bit nervous voicing his thought, but Clayton had once told him that if he had noticed anything strange with Lieutenant Corgi. Then he had to say something about it to him if he didn't already know. He saw the Gunnery Sergeant sigh and look over to him. An equally concerned and worried look was in Clayton's brown eyes. "Probably not Banks, though I don't really know for sure. But I what I do know for certain is that he's probably gonna push himself too hard again. Just like how he did when it was just the three of us in the Support unit. You remember those days David?"
"Yeah… I remember those hectic days Jim. I just thought that by now he'd have left that kind work pace behind. Especially now since we have gotten so many new unit members to handle a good deal of stuff that three of us did all by ourselves back then."
"I know Banks, I know."
The two men finished the rest of the walk to the PT Boat Barracks in silence. The dogs of squadron three suddenly didn't have the same enthusiasm they had been showing a few minutes prior.
[=]
"That other day at the range was crazy, right Mikey?" Jones said to Crawford as she idly sponged up the last of the juices from the grilled catfish with a piece of bread. She never had grilled Catfish before but it was so tasty that she ate all of it before she had even realized it. She was contemplating getting up to get a second helping when she heard Crawford set his glass down with perhaps a bit more force than was needed."Yeah it sure was. I still wonder where the Hell the XO got his hands on a working M1918 BAR though. That damn thing looked like it was plucked straight from the factory floor in the 40's"
"I'm just surprised the Marines let him keep it. Or does that fall under the Navy's Jurisdiction because he's The Lieutenant's XO?"
"I'm...not exactly sure but I think it's the Navy's call. Eh it doesn't really matter since it doesn't change the fact that they let him keep it." Crawford said as he cut and ate another piece of Catfish. Unlike Matilda who wolfed hers down like how a Destroyer does with sugary things, he ate his with a more measured pace. Though he would readily admit that whoever prepared it did a very good job.
"I heard from Desmond that the PT Corgis had found and gave him the rifle. But then that raises the question of where the PT Corgis found the darn thing." Matilda said right before scooping up the now soaked piece of bread with her fork and popping it into her mouth. Her Blissful expression from the last morsel made Crawford sigh silently and shake his head slightly.
He swore Matilda was way too energetic despite everything that's happened over the last couple of days. However he didn't see that as a bad thing exactly, at the very least it helped keep the morale of the unit members up. He took a sip of his soda before answering the question she had put forth.
"Well from what I've been reading, PT boats had all sorts of infantry weapons on board enough to arm the whole crew and often a tad bit more than that. So it's quite possible that one of Corgis pulled it from their internal armory and made it full-sized before they presented it to the Gunnery Sergeant. That's my guess on it anyways."
"Can they even do that? Is that something that's even possible?"
"It's MSSB Matilda, we don't know what exactly is possible with it remember?"
"Well, I guess you're right there. But that still doesn't explain how the higher ups allowed him to keep the thing. I asked him about it and he didn't really give me a clear answer." Matilda said with a bit of pout before taking a sip of her drink. Sometimes she cursed her own curiosity because not knowing how the XO was allowed to keep the weapon was nagging her to no end!
"True but maybe we shouldn't try poking our noses into things where they don't belong in." Crawford cautioned. He knew Matilda was too curious for her own good. Her curiosity was the cause of more than a few incidents during their time together in the Naval Academy. The last thing he needed was her curiosity getting the both of them in trouble now.
Matilda for her part deflated slightly for a moment before she snickered. Mitchel raised a curious eyebrow at the sudden change. "What's so funny there Matilda?"
"Oh I'm just remembering to our third day in the unit when you were walking three of the PT Corgis and they saw a marine throw a tennis ball. You know there's a video on YouTube showing when you got yanked off your feet and practically went flying when those dogs gave chase."
Ensign Crawford felt his face heat up with embarrassment. More so than from just being reminded of the incident now that he knew someone had taken a video of it. "Did they-"
"Yes Mikey~" Matilda cut him off before letting out a small giggle. "The video even got the part where they dunked you in the lake at the end."
Mitchel Crawford felt himself become more embarrassed. However after a moment he shot Matilda an evil grin. If she gonna play this game, so would he. "Well at least I wasn't dragged for 400 yards across dirt because one the Corgi I was walking saw and gave chase to a squirrel." Now it was Ensign Matilda's turn to get flustered, he knew that she'd win out in the end if she tried but he wasn't going to sit there and let her tease him so easily.
"Hey! It was morning and I was too scared to let the leash go. Besides you remember what the Gunny said to us that morning. We had to maintain our hold on their leashes whenever they got taken out for a walk or for a run around the base." She said defensively. Clayton despite his rather sunny and upbeat nature scared her more than a bit when he was telling others what the consequences for messing up were. The Gunny reminded her of her own dad in that way. Warm and friendly as all can be but completely terrifying if provoked.
Well that and the fact he told them both that if one of them let the dogs run wild while they were out walking them. Then he'd have the one responsible working with Ellen for the next six days and the PFC had already proven herself to be far too easily able to tease her mercilessly. Matilda liked being the one who teases others easily, not be the one who's teased by others easily!
"Yeah I remember what Clayton said. I'm pretty sure what happened to me was what Sandbar meant by the dogs were gonna mess with us at some point. Though I'm not sure that was the case with what happened to you though."
"Yeah I don't think it was either, I mean 137 looked all sad and apologetic before she licked the mud off my face."
"Yeah where's 92, 88 and 132 all looked like they were about to roll over laughing. Or something like that anyways."
"Yeah and then when we got back to the trail we see Desmond going by with six dogs on leashes and he's on a damn skateboard." Crawford grumbled as he remembered seeing the Lance Corporal coasting by them like it was another Tuesday morning.
Matilda absentmindedly rubbed her left cheek with one hand. "Still though I almost felt sorry for those three PT Corgis when we were all called into the Lt's office afterwards, almost...still though, seeing the Lt mad? That was scary, like really scary. I'm so glad it wasn't me who got that stare from the Lt. I'm pretty sure I would have died of fright!" Matilda shuddered as the sight of the Lieutenant's stare clawed up to the forefront of her mind. She wasn't even the one the stare was directed at and it still terrified the hell out of her.
After taking a sharp breath to clear her mind of the thought and the image of the Lieutenant's stare she spoke once more. "Still though, Lieutenant Corgi giving those three over to DesDiv 17 for a day was... well I'm not sure if that was punishment enough for what those three did to you Mikey." A thoughtful expression crossed Matilda's face as she glanced down to her empty plate. She wondered if the Lt was being too lenient with the punishment.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Crawford barely suppress a chuckle. Looking up once more she saw that his face was full of amusement. "What?"
"Oh trust me Matilda; it was punishment enough for those three."
Matilda rested her head in her hands with her elbows on the table. A mischievous grin plastered on her face. "Oh you gotta tell me this~"
"Well I was there with the Lieutenant when he dropped those three off at DesDiv 17's dorm. He asked the Heavy Cruiser there, I think her was Atago. To and quote 'Be sure to take lots of pictures of whatever outfits y'all decide to put these rugrats in. I'd also like to have copies of those pictures, please.'" Crawford said, doing his best impersonation of the Lieutenant at the end before pulling his phone out of his pocket.
A few swipes later Crawford pulled the pictures the Lt had sent to him and turned the phone towards Matilda to show her. Mitchel saw Matilda lightly bite on her knuckle to keep herself from bursting out into laughter at the images. He couldn't blame her though. The pictures had caused him to double over laughing when he had first seen them.
However the upbeat mood the two were enjoying abruptly faded when the both of them heard someone speaking a few tables over. "So I heard the Mad Dog has two more to his pack now. Poor bastards, they don't know what they've signed up for."
Within the Span of a moment, Jones and Crawford quieted down and did their best to listen in on the conversation without making themselves noticed by the people speaking about the Lieutenant three tables over. Though considering two of those three tables were filled with Seabees and Marines, Jones and Crawford did a fairly good job of remaining out of sight.
"I mean think about it, if the rumors are true. When the Paras fished him out of the water during Blood Week, he thought they were those things that were in the water and tried to choke one of em out." One of the unseen speakers said.
"Well I heard he managed to crack the bones in one of the Paras' arms before they sedated him despite how much damn blood he had lost. Hell I even heard that Corgi's eyes looked straight up yellow in the bird's cabin, like he was possessed by some evil shit or something." Spoke a different speaker, who had more than tad bit of fear in his voice.
"Listen, I don't know about any of that Crap for sure." Came the voice of a third unseen speaker "But I did serve with the man back before we had our boats start returning as cute girls or frigging animals. I can tell y'all this much. Corgi had and probably still does hold a hate streak for the Abyssals ten miles wide."
Matilda and Mitchel heard the conversation die down slightly before the third speaker they had overheard spoke up once more. "Yeah Danny he is like Captain Ahab in that regard. Only difference between the two of them is this. Corgi was seemingly hell bent to take no one else down with him in his quest for revenge. I don't know for sure, but he always looked like he was always one good push away from losing it completely."
Crawford looked over to Jones and saw that she was now silently fuming. "Don't do anything rash now Matilda. Okay, cool it." He quietly hissed. Despite his own feelings about what he heard someone else say about his Superior Officer. Mitchel wasn't about to let Matilda get up and possibly start a fight. He didn't need her living up to the fiery redhead stereotype right now. It took a few moments but he watched her force herself to calm down. Mitchel then turned his attention back to the conversation they were eavesdropping on.
"Listen, I heard that on the fourth day of Blood Week when the ship he was on, USS Spruance DDG-111 made contact with three abyssal destroyers? A fucking five hour running battle ensued that sank one of the monsters and left another dead in the water some miles back before Spruance took a hit to the engines that left her dead in the water from the third destroyer." A fourth speaker said to the rest.
Crawford silently motioned to Matilda to stay put and keep listening. There were details about their Commanding Officer the both of them wanted to know but they were too nervous to go around asking people about it. Scuttlebutt it may have been but there were always elements of truth in the stuff and they would try to figure out what was truth and what was exaggeration. Especially if they didn't want William to know that they were curious about what had happened to him during Blood Week.
"I also heard that about 200 of her crew were still alive to go into the water when the order to abandon ship was given by her captain. However by the end of it all? Only 68 of her crew including Corgi survived. Damn man had two fucking baseball bat length pieces of shrapnel jabbed into his chest and he still found the strength to get up and man a 25mm gun. Despite his back being on fire! He didn't just care about any of that! He just wanted to hurt those bastards because of what he saw them doing to his crew mates. So I'm not surprised the man's got a personal vendetta against the Abyssals. I just hope it doesn't destroy him. He's got damn good potential to be an excellent leader and it'd be a shame for that potential to get wasted." The fourth speaker said before Matilda and Crawford heard the sounds of people getting up and gathering their trays.
The Two Ensigns turned slightly away from the group of people before they passed their table. Considering neither of the two heard any comments or sharp breaths from the passing group. They figured none of the people they were eavesdropping on had noticed them. Turning to watch the group leave, they realized that the six people in it were all Navy personnel. But none of them were people they recognized.
Once the group left the mess hall, Matilda looked over to Mitchel with concern writ in her eyes and on her face. "Mitchel, how much of that do you think was true?" She spoke in a quiet voice.
Mitchel sighed and thought on it for a moment. Alas he couldn't come up with a clear answer, which frustrated him to no end. "I don't know Matilda. But if anything, I think the last part of all of that was true." He said quietly to her. It was troubling real troubling. However if their CO hadn't spoken about what had happened to him back then, he had a good reason not to.
And Crawford wasn't about to make the Lieutenant have an old wound on his heart open up. He was stressed enough as it was with the mine situation. Mitchel knew the last thing William needed was his two newest unit members asking him what are most likely painful questions to answer.
So Mitchel Crawford reached across the table and grabbed Matilda by the shoulder to get to look him squarely in the eyes. "Matilda, listen, we need to act like we didn't just hear any of that, alright? The Lt is on edge as it stands with this damn mine situation and how the Corgis are dealing with it. We don't need to add to his stress any more than what he's currently dealing with, okay?" Mitchel said cautiously to Matilda. Despite their best efforts to remain upbeat with everything that was going on currently. The slowly rising tension in the atmosphere of the PT Barracks because of this sea mine situation was firmly getting at them.
Matilda hesitated for a few moments. Her copper-green eyes looked down at the table for a few moments before they met his eyes once more. She gave him a small nod before they both stood up and collected their trays and plates. The mood now was a dourer one than it had been before.
[=]
For William Corgi, today's reports of the mines found and destroyed by the daytime patrols made his stomach drop. 163 mines found and destroyed today alone. That brought the total number since this all started three days ago to 417.
And for all of that, the closest anybody had reached to finding the damn minelayers or what was supporting them, was when Squadron 7 spotted an unknown contact heading towards The Yucatán Channel at 35 knots earlier today around noon.
However even then a squall caused the dogs of squadron 7 to lose the contact and turn back before heavier ships of the day patrol could get anywhere near their location to investigate. Adding further to his frustration was that earlier one of the Destroyers. Hamakaze had stopped by his Office when he was out at the range in the early morning with a request for the reports from the night patrols of PT Corgis.
While he was quietly glad that Clayton was taking care of his duties while he was out at the range. And thus his XO was able to give the destroyer the post-patrol reports from the Nighttime PT Squadrons. It still frustrated William that he couldn't have been there to help. He hated feeling like a bad example of a Navy officer of the USN before foreign personnel, and he also hated feeling useless almost more than anything else.
However though, he had been putting off with following one of his own standing orders and the week was almost over. He had to get the time down at the range as mandated by his own standing order; he would not be a hypocrite towards his subordinates. Whatever they did as their duties, if he could do it too, then he helped them with their duties whenever he didn't have much else to do. Whatever standing order he made them follow, he would follow to the letter as well.
Hence when he had returned from the range at around 1035 he had thrown himself into his work. Looking over the night patrols reports again, comparing them to the reports from both the day and night patrol squadrons from the last few days. He even looked at the reports filed by the Shipgirls that did the day and night patrols. All while trying to find anything, anything at all that could give them a breakthrough on finding those dammed minelayers.
It was late now and the Sun had long ago set. As what was requested by Nachi, he had sent her a compiled report of all the reports from each daytime PT Boat Squadron, along with an update on the mine map. The last known location of the unknown contact squadron 7 had spotted earlier today and its last known heading. The location of the mine field Atago, Tanikaze and Urakaze had sailed into last night while pursuing a possible contact that had been spotted by both squadrons 1 and 2.
He was glad that Squadron 2 was able to help those ship girls out of the minefield without incident. He was also thankful that what was left of the field was mostly cleared out now thanks to the efforts of Squadron 6's daytime work.
However William still brooded. His gaze drifting back to the wall map, adorning it were the hundreds of pins noting the locations of mines found and destroyed by his PT Corgis. The pins were color-coded to denote which day the mines had been found and destroyed on.
Four colors now dominated the map and they were showing a most worrying trend. The bulk of the mines were coming closer and closer to New Orleans, and they were appearing in greater numbers with each passing day.
He sighed and rubbed his temples his left hand as his eyes drifted to the four dark blue pins on the map that had a black X scrawled across on their tops. Those were the locations of ships that had struck mines and sank, all of them were civilian.
William looked away from the wall-mounted map for a moment as events from very early this morning flooded back to his mind. Being awoken at 0330 when Squadron 3 had radioed in that they had picked up SOS's calls from two large Shrimping boats that struck mines near their patrol area.
He remembered sitting in the main room with the rest of the Staff in the predawn hours, save for Sanderson who had went to finish off the last of his backlog of work orders. He remembered Listening to the radio as Squadron 3 split into two groups to pick up survivors. Hearing from the two groups of Corgis how few survivors there were from the two stricken vessels. The grim news that of the ten survivors the dogs of squadron 3 had fished from the water, four had passed before the dogs could get them to proper medical help. That was despite the fairy crews trying their best to keep those survivors alive.
It had been 0446 when Squadron 3 returned with the Survivors in tow. William felt his hands clench, his trimmed nails biting into his palms almost hard enough to draw blood. He had seethed with barely contained rage as he watched the living and the dead get taken away by the base personnel. It made him feel like he had failed to do his duty. It was a feeling he hatred almost as much as he hated the, the very monsters that had taken those lives and forever scarred those who had survived.
The sound of a small whimper and the feeling of something small and quite warm scratching at his leg scythed through the cloud of anger and frustration he was feeling. William released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding with an explosive sigh. He then looked down to his legs and saw PT 247 at his feet; her small green eyes were filled with concern and worry.
William realized that the Higgins boat must've sensed that his growing anger and frustration was about to boil over in her sleep. Thus she awoke and came over from the small dog bed set up in the corner of his office, to his desk to grab his attention and diffuse his anger. He realized she was trying to pull him away from those angry and dark thoughts before they took hold of him again.
He felt his anger recede a great deal, but with its departure came exhaustion. He looked over to the wall mounted clock and saw the time was 2300. He hadn't even noticed how late it had gotten. "Dammit William, pull yourself together." He quietly muttered to himself. He was letting the situation that had been developing for the last three; no four days now get the better of him. That was no good, no good at all. He had to be better than that, he had to be.
As his anger slowly faded, a new emotion took its place, dismay of a different variety. He looked at PT 247 with a hint of exasperation and mild annoyance. "I still can't believe squadron 5 went and raided half of the Mess hall's supply of Peanut Butter two days ago. You know people are still finding empty Jars around the base right? And then 192 goes and tries to drag off one of the 20 mm rotary canons that were being worked on by Air force personnel yesterday."
Another sigh escaped him and now the exhaustion was getting to the point of being overwhelming. 247 was still looking at him, but now most of the worry and concern was gone from her eyes. Her head tilted at an angle at his words. He knew she was trying to play innocent but he knew her better. Funny that, he thought of it like a daughter trying and failing hard to hide something from her father but she hadn't realized he already knew what she was trying to hide.
"Don't play innocent with me 247. I know y'all are doing that vent off your own worries, concerns and stress about this mine situation." William rubbed his temples to fight off an approaching headache. He needed sleep badly but he had one last thing to do first. Talk his daytime patrol squadrons out of causing him more headaches. He honestly didn't need any more headaches than he already had.
"But can y'all please do so in manner that doesn't have me getting complaints from everyone else? Please? I'll set up a Frisbee catching competition tomorrow with a Cookout if y'all will behave." William said to 247. When he saw her wag her tail and smile as best as a dog could, he figured he that had secured at least a few evenings of peace and quiet where the Daytime Squadrons wouldn't cause any chaos, hopefully.
He fought off his rapidly mounting exhaustion to do the paperwork needed to set up the Frisbee catching competition and the cookout for tomorrow evening. He figured it'd be a good morale boost for both his Staff and the PT Corgis. He knew though that he had to set up a similar event for the night Squadrons.
Though as William thought on the matter of having a cookout further. He realized that the ship girls that had been giving his dogs' remote cover during the day and nighttime patrols also deserved to have a chance to enjoy the cookout as well. So before he sent the emails and electronic paperwork in, he went back and made changes so that the ship girls that were working alongside his dogs could come and enjoy the events he planned for his staff and dogs.
By the time he had finished modifying the needed paperwork for both events and then sent up the chain, it was 2330. Getting up from his office chair and stretching, not even trying to hide the yawn that escaped his lips from performing the action, William Corgi left his office and headed to his quarters to get some badly needed sleep. PT-247 was right on his heels from when he got up to leave the office to when he climbed into bed. The Lieutenant didn't even bother to change to nighttime wear; he was so tired from the day.
As William drifted off to sleep, he idly wondered if Nachi, Atago and DesDiv17 would appreciate the gesture. He figured everyone could use the morale boost, given the situation they were dealing with.
[=]
PT-41 skated across the ocean's surface at a comfortable 32 knots. The night air was cool and crisp. While the night sky had the mostly-full moon and stars out and clearly visible. Her Navigator told her that her squadron was about 105 nautical miles south-southeast from New Orleans. A check on her chronometer showed the time was a few minutes past midnight.
Just a few more hours to go till their patrol ended and they could come back home. The night had been quiet but 41 did not relax, not one iota. Neither did her squadron mates who sailed with her in formation. Part of her was happy to be reunited with her squadron mates, her sisters again.
All of them, both the ones she fought and ultimately died alongside in the Philippines after giving the imperial Japanese eight kinds of hell. As well the sisters she had only known for a brief time before she had been shipped over to the Philippines. Sisters who were waiting in Pearl Harbor to be sent over to join her and their other five sisters already stationed in the Philippines, when the war had started.
She was forever grateful to be able to be with them all again, to have a second chance at life together with them. Though she couldn't exactly express herself as being happy right now. Not with these mines and the ones laying them out there, somewhere. Her hackles raised and she felt her teeth become bared at the thought of those monsters running amok.
She had seen firsthand what those insidious mines had done, and she bitterly remembered watching the life of a young man slip away despite her efforts and her Crew's efforts to keep that man alive. PT-41 also remembered Lieutenant Corgi's face when she and her squadron came in with both the survivors and the ones who passed away on the way.
It pained her to see her commander and the closest person to a father she had since her original commander back in her first life as a wooden boat. Be filled with such frustration and terrible anger. William was a good man and a good leader, but no matter how hard he tried to hide it from everyone else. She and the other PT Boats knew that he was deeply hurt, in a way none of them could really understand despite their best efforts.
However she didn't need to understand in what way the man she considered as a father was hurt. She just knew that he was hurt and that she had to help him with his pain somehow. Beyond doing her normal duties, she had helped keep the other night patrol squadrons well-behaved for the most part. Though it was clear to her that she needed to have words with the Daytime squadrons, they were giving William more headaches than he needed right now. Headaches he didn't need right now, there was a time and place to cause some trouble to get him to realize everything going on around him. But this was neither; the situation was far too dire for him to be distracted by his dogs misbehaving.
However all those thoughts vanished from her forecastle when she picked up a radar contact that didn't have the friendly identifying return signal with it. Her teeth bared and she let out a low growl. As did all the other dogs in Motor Torpedo Boat Squadron 3. Their radars picked up four contacts approaching them rapidly at extreme range.
*****
They had been on the prowl for the entire night thus far. Carefully dropping mines in the patterns as given by her, their adoptive matriarch. The Princess whom had took them in when they were about to turn and feast on one another and gave them shelter and sustenance. For that they pledge their loyalty to her, and by her command they acted. Her orders had been clear when it was proven that those damned mongrels patrolling the waters were far more effective at destroying her mines than she had anticipated. Sink them. Sink those mongrels should they be encountered whilst laying out the next minefield. Those were her orders to those that had pledged fealty to her and her own children.
One of whom, a powerful and deadly submersible, had picked up the sounds of the mongrels passing its scouting area on its sonar half an hour earlier. Their Tender had turned back to head to the safety of their Princess's carefully hidden bastion. While they were tasked to destroy this group of mutts and remove one of a handful of thorns in their princess's side.
Four specters of death closed towards the group of mongrels at their top speed of 48 knots. The sea churned and was stained black in their wakes. They would prove to their princess the value and worth of German Engineering by sinking these inferior American made boats. They could not fail this task, they shall win or they will die. They would have prefer no other alternative to this.
*****
PT-41 barked out a series of orders to her squadron mates. Who swiftly turned and moved to an attack formation. This was it, they had made contact with the enemy and now they had at most two minutes before the enemy closed into range of their guns. Especially now that they had turned to face the direction the enemy was coming in from and was closing the distance themselves as well at Flank speed.She could sense the nervousness and tension her squadron mates had. She herself was nervous because her commander recognized what the radar signatures were from their speed alone, E-Boats. Despite outnumbering them 3 to 1, this imminent fight would not be an easy one for PT-41 and her squadron mates. From her forecastle to engine room, she was ready for battle. Her sisters were ready for battle; this kind of warfare was what they were originally built for.
Seconds later, in the mostly full moon's light. The twisted hateful forms of the E-boats came into visual sight of the PT Corgis gunners.
An instant later, all Hell broke loose.
[=]
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- Location
- Beyond the Unknowable Veil
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
ah thank you, I know I miss some stuff from time to time just because of how large these posts get. But thank you for pointing out such a silly mistake. I appreciate it.
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
A combination of both...Rulesverse crazy with AL hotness. What's not to like?
Though personally I think Showboat should come first...after all, she's got so much to be summoned for!Showboat: *Salutes* USS North Carolina, BB-55, reporting for duty, sir!
Williams: Welcome back, sailor.
Showboat: Thanks, sir...you can call me Showboat...makes it easier.
Williams: Thank you...I'll let you know now, your sister would've been here to welcome you, but mitigating circumstances prevented it.
Showboat: *Excitedly* Wash is here?! *Then subdues her excitement* I understand, sir...patrols and duty come first, after all.
Williams: Ah, not exactly...
*Wash and Gale, both heavily pregnant, walk in*
Gale: Sorry we're late, sir.
Showboat: *Turns and sees her sister* Wash? *Rushes over to hug her and squeals excitedly when she notices Wash's condition* Eeee! Who's the lucky guy?
Gale: *Nervously* Me.
Showboat: *Surprised* Oh, you both decided to get inseminated at once?
Gale: *Shakes her head* Um, not exactly...
Showboat: *Gets the unspoken message and looks surprised* Huh...who knew? *Grins at Wash* SoDak would be all over something like this, huh?
Wash: *Smiles, remembering* Yep.
*Admiral Williams looks up as a chill suddenly runs down his spine for no reason*
Showboat: *Shrugs* Whatever...I'm gonna be an auntie twice over! Eeee!
Gale: More than that...Wash is carrying at least twins and as for me, well...nobody knows. Someone's said two, another's said four, so I guess we'll have to see when I give birth.
Showboat: *bounces up and down and squees some more before bending over and talking to both Wash's and Gale's stomachs* Hi, babies...I'm your Auntie Showboat. I can't wait to meet y'all...I'm gonna spoil you rotten, give you enough sugar to make you run faster than that super-destroyer the Japs had, and then hand you back to your parents. *Grins at Wash's playful glower and Gale's 'Why Me?!' expression* Because that's what a super-cool aunt does.
- Location
- Canada
I think i found a good candidate for the cruiser gang.
Poor Wichita never had any sisters of her own so i think she'd be right at home with Frisco and the other cruisers.
Poor Wichita never had any sisters of her own so i think she'd be right at home with Frisco and the other cruisers.
- Location
- Canada
All the more reason to be with her cousins then!
Admiral_Corgi
The Admiral of the PT Boats
- Location
- The Strange land of Florida
Well folks here's a preview to the next chapter of doggos. I do apologize for leaving ya'll on a cliff hanger last update. Thankfully this next part shouldn't take me very long to write up. Anyways enjoy this preview for now.
...PT-106 awoke to the sound of the radio in the main room receiving an incoming transmission. She was sleepy and confused at hearing the incoming transmission. Under their normal operating procedures. No contact was to be made with the main base by night patrols unless...they had made contact...with the enemy...
All the fur on PT-106's body stood up at once as she was jolted completely awake within a second by the realization. She jumped up from her dog bed before sprinting across the main room of the barracks at flank speed. She didn't care that some of her sisters were awoken by her passage, a situation had occurred and the Lieutenant needed to be woken up ASAP.
The nails on her paws left deep scratches on the wood floor as she came to a skidding halt in front of the door to the Lieutenant's quarters. Standing up on her hind legs, PT-106 scratched at the door frantically. A moment later one of her crew retrieved the on-board megaphone and she started frantically barking with all the volume she could muster from her little lungs. This naturally woke up everyone up in the PT Boat Barracks within a few moments. The volume at which she barked at would have been heard a fair distance from the PT Boat Barracks.
The seconds felt like hours as they slipped by. PT-106 stopped barking and got down back down on all four legs before she backed up from the door. Which now had a rather appreciable portion of it scratched thin by her frantic efforts to wake the Lieutenant up. PT-106 was about to charge into the door and break it down all together when she heard and saw the handle turn. A moment later the door opened and revealed a rather groggy looking Lieutenant Corgi and a very worried looking PT-247. She barked frantically at him, telling him that something had happened to make one of the night squadrons break radio silence.
The Lieutenant felt his stomach drop as a brief wave of vertigo wash over him as he heard PT-42 pained barks play out over the radio's speaker. He understood perfectly from her pained barks what it was she was reporting and it wasn't good news...
All the fur on PT-106's body stood up at once as she was jolted completely awake within a second by the realization. She jumped up from her dog bed before sprinting across the main room of the barracks at flank speed. She didn't care that some of her sisters were awoken by her passage, a situation had occurred and the Lieutenant needed to be woken up ASAP.
The nails on her paws left deep scratches on the wood floor as she came to a skidding halt in front of the door to the Lieutenant's quarters. Standing up on her hind legs, PT-106 scratched at the door frantically. A moment later one of her crew retrieved the on-board megaphone and she started frantically barking with all the volume she could muster from her little lungs. This naturally woke up everyone up in the PT Boat Barracks within a few moments. The volume at which she barked at would have been heard a fair distance from the PT Boat Barracks.
The seconds felt like hours as they slipped by. PT-106 stopped barking and got down back down on all four legs before she backed up from the door. Which now had a rather appreciable portion of it scratched thin by her frantic efforts to wake the Lieutenant up. PT-106 was about to charge into the door and break it down all together when she heard and saw the handle turn. A moment later the door opened and revealed a rather groggy looking Lieutenant Corgi and a very worried looking PT-247. She barked frantically at him, telling him that something had happened to make one of the night squadrons break radio silence.
~~~
William Corgi felt the tiredness and grogginess from barely having more than an hour of sleep flee him like animals before a forest fire as the meaning of PT-106's frantic barks finally registered in his mind. In a span of several seconds he went from standing at the door of his quarters to the radio set that was in the main room of the barracks. Just as Clayton and the other members of his staff emerged from their quarters. The Lieutenant felt his stomach drop as a brief wave of vertigo wash over him as he heard PT-42 pained barks play out over the radio's speaker. He understood perfectly from her pained barks what it was she was reporting and it wasn't good news...
Breaking and Entering for fun and profit
- Location
- 'Murica
"Hey," battleship New Jersey pulled into tight formation with her sisters and lowered her voice until it was just barely audible over the roar of waves crashing across the battleships' collective bows. "So," she coughed and glanced over her shoulder at the snowy-haired large cruiser taking up the flank. "Is it just me or is she like… fucking impossible to read."
"It's not just you," said Wisky. The littlest Iowa shrugged and adjusted the webbing-covered plate carrier tightly wrapped around her class-leading bunkerage. "It's like talking to a doll, she just… doesn't emote."
"I don't think she knows how," said Mo. The tanned warship ran a half-gloved hand through her bundled dreadlocks. "At least not really. She is only three years old."
"Not even," corrected Wisky. "Two years, eight months exactly."
"Fuck you," muttered the elder two Iowas.
"Still," Jersey shrugged. "Mo's got a point. Ship that young… she's got a lot to learn about being a ship, let alone a woman." She bit her lip and planted her hands on her hips. "Kinda… paints her relationship with Cameron in a new light, don't it?"
"Oh please," Mo shook her head. "Those two are the most wholesome couple to ever wholesome."
"We should be as lucky," added Wisky dreamily.
"Guess you got a point," admitted Jersey.
"Mmm…" Mo nodded with a smug smile. "That's assuming she's not doing it on purpose."
"The fuck?" grunted Jersey.
"Alaska," said Mo. "Who knows, maybe she likes having people dismiss her as a harmless derp."
Jersey froze, and a shiver of horror ran down her keel. "Wisky, cover your ears!"
"Too late, I heard everything," teased Wisky, earning herself a slap on the back of the head from both her sisters.
"Anyway," Jersey painfully dragged herself back on topic. "Is it just me, or has she been moping ever since we weighed anchor?"
The three sisters looked at each other for a moment, then back at Alaska.
"Yeah," said Mo.
"At least," said Wisky.
"It's her boyfriend," said Mo. The chocolatest Iowa pulled her mirrored crimson shades off and polished the lenses on the ragged hem of her tank top. "She misses him something fierce. Think knowing she'd see him after the op was the only think keeping her going."
"Fuck." Jersey cursed. "Poor thing."
"Yeah," said Mo.
Unlike her elder sisters, Wisky said nothing. Instead the littlest Iowa pulled back on her turbines just a little and veered off course to link up with Alaska. She steamed through the large cruiser's wake and pulled up off her other side.
"Hey, kiddo."
"Hello." Alaska's tone was musical and sweet, but if there was any emotion in it it was beyond unreadable.
"I know this isn't what you thought was gonna happen."
Alaska shrugged. "It's okay."
"You're not happy, are you?"
Alaska shook her head. "It's what the navy needs."
"But," Wisky repeated, slower this time. "You're not happy."
Alaska held the battleship's gaze for a long time, then finally shook her head. "No."
"Boyfriend?"
Alaska nodded wordlessly.
"Look…" Wisky stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts. "I've got a lot of people who owe me favors. I could get Cameron on a jet, have him meet us there in Sasebo if he's up for it." She shrugged. "I know it's not the honeymoon you've got planned, but…"
"You'd do that?" asked Alaska, the awe in her voice barely audible. "F-for me?"
"'course I would, kiddo" said Wisky. "It's the least I could do."
For several minutes, Alaska was silent. Then her eyes narrowed and her cheeks squished into a quiet and understated, but nevertheless unmistakable smile. "Thank you. I'd like that."
There was nothing understated about the Iowa's smile. "I'll make the call."
Submarine didn't realize they were hungry like fish didn't realize they were wet. That was before she'd returned. Before Admiral Richardson and his lovely daughter had stuffed her full of sandwiches at every opportunity. After filling her stomach for once in her life, it was hard to go back to the life of a prowling hunter.
Albie winced as another pang twisted her stomach into knots. She was ravenously hungry, and her lungs were starting to burn. She twisted her wrist, glaring at the luminous numerals only faintly visible through the murky depths. She'd been holding her breath for going on a day and a half now. It was taking conscious effort to keep her mouth closed against the ocean.
She should have another ten hours at least before she had to surface. But the depth charging she'd narrowly avoided must've literally knocked some wind out of her. Not to mention punching a gash in her side that was still leeching blood and diesel into the ocean. She'd had to shoo away a few curious sharks already, and every stroke she took reminded her of the gash torn into her sinewy muscle.
But she didn't dare surface. Not yet. She was too far afield. The hammering of her own heartbeat in her ears was still mixed with the distant but all-to-close sounds of churning screws and pinging sonar. As badly as she wanted to breath, she wanted to live even more.
She bit down on her cheeks, forcing herself to focus on the pain instead of the fire kindling in her depleted lungs. She swam on, her motors humming with all their might as her batteries rapidly depleted. On and on she swam, until finally she had no choice.
She broke for the surface as quickly as she dared and took a greedy gasp of the chilly early-winter air. It was cold and bitter and tasted like salt and seafowl, but for the hungry submarine it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted. It was so good she almost forgot the gnawing hunger in her belly as she filled her lungs with breath after breath.
Her lookouts confirmed she was alone, at least for the time being. She could see shoreline ahead. It was Japan, at least she was fairly sure it was Japan. She couldn't have drifted that far off course, but she didn't have the slightest clue where in Japan she was.
That didn't matter right now. Japan was—as strange as it was to say—friendly territory. That meant a warm bed, a bath, and maybe even something to eat.
Albie swam for the shore. She dismissed her rigging as she flopped onto the beach, her lithe body streaked with blood from the gash on her hip.
"Fuck," she breathed, nervously picking at the punched-in metal around her wound. Depth-charge blows weren't like the brutal gashes surface ships suffered. But they still hurt like hell.
Albie used a bit of driftwood to haul herself to her feet, then gingerly tested her wounded leg. It hurt like hell to stand on, but at least she could stand. A few more steps confirmed she could walk, and a few more after that promised that she could run on it if she had to.
Her immediate damage taken care of, her stomach re-asserted its pressing need for provisions. She bit her lip to muffle a moan of hunger and made her way further inland. There was a house sitting on a bluff. The lights were off, but the place at least looked well maintained.
With one hand pressed against her side, Albie made her way to the door. Picking the lock took all of ten seconds, even with fingers still shaking from cold and blood loss. It only took her a little longer to find the kitchen, and with it the pantry.
Albie wasn't quite sure what she found inside—other than a niggling worry that one item was a cooking utensil and not exactly "food" as such. But that didn't stop her from eating everything her hands could find until her stomach finally stopped complaining.
With her immediate needs taken care of, she took a moment to evaluate the damage she'd suffered. Her hip had stopped bleeding, at least. Now that she was out of the water her compromised pressure hull wasn't nearly so pressing. She just… she needed to sleep. She'd effect proper repairs in the morning, but she was just so tired.
The submarine yawned and padded barefoot through the house. There had to be a bed around here somewhere.
"It's not just you," said Wisky. The littlest Iowa shrugged and adjusted the webbing-covered plate carrier tightly wrapped around her class-leading bunkerage. "It's like talking to a doll, she just… doesn't emote."
"I don't think she knows how," said Mo. The tanned warship ran a half-gloved hand through her bundled dreadlocks. "At least not really. She is only three years old."
"Not even," corrected Wisky. "Two years, eight months exactly."
"Fuck you," muttered the elder two Iowas.
"Still," Jersey shrugged. "Mo's got a point. Ship that young… she's got a lot to learn about being a ship, let alone a woman." She bit her lip and planted her hands on her hips. "Kinda… paints her relationship with Cameron in a new light, don't it?"
"Oh please," Mo shook her head. "Those two are the most wholesome couple to ever wholesome."
"We should be as lucky," added Wisky dreamily.
"Guess you got a point," admitted Jersey.
"Mmm…" Mo nodded with a smug smile. "That's assuming she's not doing it on purpose."
"The fuck?" grunted Jersey.
"Alaska," said Mo. "Who knows, maybe she likes having people dismiss her as a harmless derp."
Jersey froze, and a shiver of horror ran down her keel. "Wisky, cover your ears!"
"Too late, I heard everything," teased Wisky, earning herself a slap on the back of the head from both her sisters.
"Anyway," Jersey painfully dragged herself back on topic. "Is it just me, or has she been moping ever since we weighed anchor?"
The three sisters looked at each other for a moment, then back at Alaska.
"Yeah," said Mo.
"At least," said Wisky.
"It's her boyfriend," said Mo. The chocolatest Iowa pulled her mirrored crimson shades off and polished the lenses on the ragged hem of her tank top. "She misses him something fierce. Think knowing she'd see him after the op was the only think keeping her going."
"Fuck." Jersey cursed. "Poor thing."
"Yeah," said Mo.
Unlike her elder sisters, Wisky said nothing. Instead the littlest Iowa pulled back on her turbines just a little and veered off course to link up with Alaska. She steamed through the large cruiser's wake and pulled up off her other side.
"Hey, kiddo."
"Hello." Alaska's tone was musical and sweet, but if there was any emotion in it it was beyond unreadable.
"I know this isn't what you thought was gonna happen."
Alaska shrugged. "It's okay."
"You're not happy, are you?"
Alaska shook her head. "It's what the navy needs."
"But," Wisky repeated, slower this time. "You're not happy."
Alaska held the battleship's gaze for a long time, then finally shook her head. "No."
"Boyfriend?"
Alaska nodded wordlessly.
"Look…" Wisky stuffed her hands into the pockets of her shorts. "I've got a lot of people who owe me favors. I could get Cameron on a jet, have him meet us there in Sasebo if he's up for it." She shrugged. "I know it's not the honeymoon you've got planned, but…"
"You'd do that?" asked Alaska, the awe in her voice barely audible. "F-for me?"
"'course I would, kiddo" said Wisky. "It's the least I could do."
For several minutes, Alaska was silent. Then her eyes narrowed and her cheeks squished into a quiet and understated, but nevertheless unmistakable smile. "Thank you. I'd like that."
There was nothing understated about the Iowa's smile. "I'll make the call."
—|—|—
Fleet submarine Albacore was starving. Back during the war, that wouldn't have bothered her. Hunger was a constant companion back then, and she'd learned to accept a constant nagging pang in her middle as a simple fact of life. It was like the salt burning against her skin or the chill of frigid seawater deep below the surface.Submarine didn't realize they were hungry like fish didn't realize they were wet. That was before she'd returned. Before Admiral Richardson and his lovely daughter had stuffed her full of sandwiches at every opportunity. After filling her stomach for once in her life, it was hard to go back to the life of a prowling hunter.
Albie winced as another pang twisted her stomach into knots. She was ravenously hungry, and her lungs were starting to burn. She twisted her wrist, glaring at the luminous numerals only faintly visible through the murky depths. She'd been holding her breath for going on a day and a half now. It was taking conscious effort to keep her mouth closed against the ocean.
She should have another ten hours at least before she had to surface. But the depth charging she'd narrowly avoided must've literally knocked some wind out of her. Not to mention punching a gash in her side that was still leeching blood and diesel into the ocean. She'd had to shoo away a few curious sharks already, and every stroke she took reminded her of the gash torn into her sinewy muscle.
But she didn't dare surface. Not yet. She was too far afield. The hammering of her own heartbeat in her ears was still mixed with the distant but all-to-close sounds of churning screws and pinging sonar. As badly as she wanted to breath, she wanted to live even more.
She bit down on her cheeks, forcing herself to focus on the pain instead of the fire kindling in her depleted lungs. She swam on, her motors humming with all their might as her batteries rapidly depleted. On and on she swam, until finally she had no choice.
She broke for the surface as quickly as she dared and took a greedy gasp of the chilly early-winter air. It was cold and bitter and tasted like salt and seafowl, but for the hungry submarine it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted. It was so good she almost forgot the gnawing hunger in her belly as she filled her lungs with breath after breath.
Her lookouts confirmed she was alone, at least for the time being. She could see shoreline ahead. It was Japan, at least she was fairly sure it was Japan. She couldn't have drifted that far off course, but she didn't have the slightest clue where in Japan she was.
That didn't matter right now. Japan was—as strange as it was to say—friendly territory. That meant a warm bed, a bath, and maybe even something to eat.
Albie swam for the shore. She dismissed her rigging as she flopped onto the beach, her lithe body streaked with blood from the gash on her hip.
"Fuck," she breathed, nervously picking at the punched-in metal around her wound. Depth-charge blows weren't like the brutal gashes surface ships suffered. But they still hurt like hell.
Albie used a bit of driftwood to haul herself to her feet, then gingerly tested her wounded leg. It hurt like hell to stand on, but at least she could stand. A few more steps confirmed she could walk, and a few more after that promised that she could run on it if she had to.
Her immediate damage taken care of, her stomach re-asserted its pressing need for provisions. She bit her lip to muffle a moan of hunger and made her way further inland. There was a house sitting on a bluff. The lights were off, but the place at least looked well maintained.
With one hand pressed against her side, Albie made her way to the door. Picking the lock took all of ten seconds, even with fingers still shaking from cold and blood loss. It only took her a little longer to find the kitchen, and with it the pantry.
Albie wasn't quite sure what she found inside—other than a niggling worry that one item was a cooking utensil and not exactly "food" as such. But that didn't stop her from eating everything her hands could find until her stomach finally stopped complaining.
With her immediate needs taken care of, she took a moment to evaluate the damage she'd suffered. Her hip had stopped bleeding, at least. Now that she was out of the water her compromised pressure hull wasn't nearly so pressing. She just… she needed to sleep. She'd effect proper repairs in the morning, but she was just so tired.
The submarine yawned and padded barefoot through the house. There had to be a bed around here somewhere.
Always Late
Lacking in coffee, sleep, and brains
- Location
- Ohio
And is this me, or is this something that Jersey's not notiued despite interacting with her before?
Ignoring how babies can emote, because FUIDWIW.
Whisky getting more incorrigible. For now, the joke's still funny.
Whiskey throwing her weight around for the benefit of others... now that'll always be good reading.
Heh. Now I want to see the cast watch something like The Meg and one of the sub just casually mentions "Oh, so that's what I saw."
- Location
- 'Murica
Babies are born human. 'Laska's a boat who barely knows how to boat, let alone how to human.