Chapter 9:
Sitting in his room, James looked over the results of the exercise. Allowing a moment to take a sip of coffee, the Admiral couldn't help but grimace at the taste. Shaking his head in an attempt to clear it with the aid of the drink, he kept an eye on Sara out of the corner of his eye. The carrier had been unusually quiet and depressed ever since he had told her about Midway. Not that Thompson could really blame her for that reaction. It was just as hard on him, as it was for her in the long run. He hadn't expected it to be easy, but on the other hand, after seeing Yorktown's birds 'slaughtered'? And talking about Midway?
Well.
It was quite different reading about situations like this in a book. It was another thing entirely to be there in person. Reading 'forty planes were shot down' was one thing. It was just...a statistic. There was a disconnect, knowing that the men who had flown and died had done so decades before he was even born. James had always been more emotional about the ship girls, than the men who had served aboard them. But actually getting to know those men? Men like Thach? It was different. It was
harder. The Admiral knew that a lot of these men would die, no matter what he did.
And it made it so much more difficult to continue planning what he was. Knowing he couldn't avert the war...it was
far too late for that.
"Are you alright, Sara?" James set his papers down, turning to look at the carrier.
"What?" Sara looked up, green eyes showing her confusion.
"I asked if you were okay..."
"Oh." The carrier's face flushed slightly. "I'm alright, Admiral. Just...thinking."
"About Midway?"
Sara nodded sadly, "Midway. Pearl. Coral Sea. You've told me about all of these battles but I hadn't...hadn't realized until now, what it really
meant."
Well, I guess we agree on something.
James smiled slightly, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Hit me too, when I looked at these results. We aren't ready for a war, and I don't know if we
will be."
What was left unsaid, was that it wouldn't matter really. They could have all the time in the world to train up, and there would still be losses. War was war. No matter if you had foresight or not, people would die and ships would sink. That it was just now hitting them, was a miracle.
"That's what we're here for though." James pushed his mind from those thoughts, with some difficulty. "To make things as prepared as we can."
"Right!"
The two shared a smile, the smile they shared whenever they needed to cheer the other up. Something becoming more often, as the pressure mounted. But...at least they
could smile. With that thought in mind, James turned away from the carrier and back to his reports. Yorktown had taken a 'beating' with two bomb hits, and if the torpedoes actually worked, several hits from those. Making a mental note to continue pushing to have
all members of that family tested, the Admiral looked at the damage report again.
Somehow, he got the feeling Yorktown was going to be rather...unhappy. To say the least.
"Hey, Sara?" Turning back to his friend, the Admiral raised an eyebrow. "Can you get Yorktown on the line?"
Sara blinked, "Sir?"
"Want to know what she thinks about this."
His friend winced slightly, but did as asked. There was silence, before a voice came over the radio. A voice that was familiar to Admiral Thompson, if a bit younger sounding. And angrier than usual, as well. Though that was...rather to be expected, really. Yorktown had more than enough reason to be angry.
"
Hello? Sara, I swear if this is to gloat..."
"Not at all, Yorktown." Sara spoke soothingly. "My Admiral wanted to talk with you."
"Oh? Does he
want to gloat then? Make fun of the new girl?"
New Girl...?
Mouthing that question at Sara, and getting only a headshake in return, James instead focused on Yorktown, "I don't have any reason
to gloat, Yorktown. I wanted to ask your opinion on the exercise, nothing else."
"...that all?"
"Yes?"
A loud sigh came over the radio, and James could easily imagine Yorktown massaging her scalp. Red hair, reaching mid-back, brushed out of blue eyes. Pale features, above a belly-baring variant of a USN uniform. The first of the
Yorktown-class always had been a unique ship. James remembered a kind girl, who had a bit of a temper if anyone threatened her sisters. A girl who would keep going no matter what happened, and would only rest when
forced to rest. He had always assumed that was a vestige of her history. After all, how many ships could come back from near-crippling damage in two days?
But...
Well, the girl he was hearing now sounded nothing like that. There was a hint of anger in her voice no matter what she said. Understandable, perhaps, but not like the kind girl he remembered. More importantly, where the Yorktown he remembered held a certain air of wisdom and age around her...this girl sounded like she was...well. Eager to prove herself, perhaps? She lacked the wisdom of the girl he knew. James could list any number of reasons why, but it wasn't his job to psychoanalyze the girl.
"Well, if you want my opinion..." Yorktown spoke again.
"That was rigged! I didn't like losing to Sara the last
time, but at least that was fair! You sent two carrier's worth of birds at me, and haven't even taught my pilots those new tactics. That was not fair Admiral."
James winced, but knew that being truthful was the best option, "It wasn't meant to be fair Yorktown. I'm sorry to say that, but we needed to prove how much more effective it is to work with multiple carriers together."
"And I was your test?"
Wincing again, Admiral Thompson nodded, "Exactly. That's why I need to know what your crew thought about the training. The more I know now, the better off we'll be later."
There was silence, before another sigh came from the carrier girl,
"Yeah, I see your point. My crew aren't any happier about this than I am. We have a lot to prove, especially after we 'lost' to Sara last time. You've got the veterans over there, Admiral. I'm the new girl, along with E. We may be the best purpose designed carriers out there, but we don't have the experience Lex and Sara have."
Yorktown trailed off, and James could imagine the frown on her face.
"So, yes, they aren't happy. My CAG in particular, wants to go over and compare notes with Lieutenant Commander Thach on the tactics he used. Since it was hardly fair that we went into this with outdated tactics, while you had brand new ones. And such effective ones! That you need to tell me about."
"My Admiral isn't special just because he can hear us." Sara fielded that question, soft and fond smile on her face as she looked at James. "He is from the future, Yorktown. These tactics are so well thought out, because they were used in combat. For years."
"Future."
The dull deadpan tone in Yorktown's voice had Sara laughing softly, and James cracking a smile. It was certainly better than the anger, at the least.
"Yes, and no, I don't know
how I ended up back here. Now, thank you for telling me that Yorktown. I can see about getting a meeting set up when we get back to Pearl. It's about time these tactics start filtering down anyway. The last thing I want is for any of you girls going into this without being the best prepared you can be."
"...going into what, Admiral?"
James cursed under his breath, "Right, I haven't told you yet. Yorktown, war is coming, and soon. A little over a year from now, to be more exact. That's why I'm pushing through so many new tactics and strategies. I want everyone to be as ready as we can. Too many people. Too many of you girls...fell in the war I know. I don't want that, and I am doing everything I can to limit those losses."
And wasn't that an understatement. Save for letters to his family, all the time James had was spent in improving the war situation. He couldn't be everywhere. He couldn't do everything. But he was doing what he could, and that was what mattered in the long run. No matter what else happened.
"My sisters. Do my sisters survive?"
Instead of asking about anything else though, the first words out of Yorktown's mouth were concern for her sisters. The girl James remembered shone through, the tone in her voice achingly familiar. Especially since, in what was becoming a recurring statement, he had to tell her what had happened. He never did like telling these girls what had happened to them, or their sisters.
But...it had to be done. She wouldn't take no for an answer. Not at all.
"You, Hornet, and Wasp all don't make it." James sighed softly. "Only Enterprise survived the war. She was a hero too...Enterprise vs. Japan, was a common statement back home."
"Little E? A hero?" Yorktown's voice shook, clearly doing her best not to think about anything else.
"I...she isn't the type, Admiral."
"Really?"
"Yes. Have you not met her?"
"In this time, no."
And now James was wondering exactly what the downtime Enterprise was actually like...
Meanwhile, back in Pearl Harbor, USS Utah leaned against her hull. The tired old girl had been resting ever since she had returned the harbor, her crew and the dockyard doing what they could to repair her old boilers. She hadn't had a proper refit since '32, when she had been converted into a target ship. And her boilers hadn't properly been changed since 1925, when oil had replaced coal. It was little wonder, then, that she was tired. Repairs and retrofits could only do so much, for such old equipment. And as a target ship, her maintenance was hardly high-priority to begin with.
She didn't blame the Navy for that, but it did make it more difficult on her. Exerting herself was a lot harder, when her hull creaked and her boilers sputtered.
But still, she did so. The old girl had napped, more or less, while the repairs were performed. It had only been recently that she had dragged herself up. In time to see a pair of new arrivals to the harbor, at that. West Virginia- WeeVee, or just Virginia -and Enterprise, Little E as her sister called her. Utah only knew her daughter, unfamiliar with the carrier. But a small smile still crossed her face...the more ships that Admiral Thompson could talk to, the better in the long run.
"I need to keep working myself." Utah muttered to herself, as her eyes trailed over Arizona and California as well. "Where is my Captain...?"
Pushing herself away from her hull, Utah swayed slightly on her feet. Forcing her spinning vision to stabilize, the old girl smoothed down her dress and set off to find her commanding officer. Her
new commander, at that. John had left a month ago, her efforts to communicate with him making the man request a reassignment.
My reputation precedes me now.
Utah allowed herself a small laugh at the thought. She had something of a reputation as a 'haunted ghost ship' now. Her efforts at communicating with her crew had lead to that, though she wished they hadn't.
"Utah?"
Before she could find her commander, Arizona's voice echoed in her head.
Smile widening slightly, Utah keyed her radio in to the other girl's frequency, "Yes, Arizona?"
"Ah, you're awake!" Arizona's voice was much more cheerful than it had been, and Utah could practically feel the grin on her daughter's face.
"Yes, I'm sorry if you tried to talk to me earlier." And she really was, as Utah felt a small flush cross her pale face. "Did you need me for something?"
"I'm not mad that you couldn't talk to me..." Arizona trailed off uncertainly.
"I was just worried about you. Are you okay?"
A warm feeling ran through the old battleship at that question. She didn't know if her daughters felt the same way about her, that she felt about them. After all, they were not
truly her daughters, in the strictest sense. But even so...the genuine worry and concern in Arizona's voice had her smiling wider. Utah liked to think they considered her someone they could trust, even if not a mother figure. So it was...most certainly nice, to hear her voice like this. Quite nice, in fact. Still...
There was work to be done. Utah could enjoy the feeling later, when she wasn't needing to find her Captain. And on that note...
"I'm perfectly fine, Arizona. Just tired, as I said before." Utah knew that was a lie, but she wasn't about to worry her daughter. "Now, have you talked with your Admiral?"
There was silence, before a nervous laugh came over the line,
"I haven't. I tried, but he didn't act like I was there...not like Admiral Thompson."
The fondness in Arizona's voice when she spoke of the Admiral had Utah laugh lightly. Along with shaking her head fondly. She wondered if the younger battleship had any idea what she sounded like? Most likely not, in fact. And nor did Admiral Thompson, in all likelihood. Well, there was a time and a place for joking. And while the more motherly side of Utah was tempted to poke at her younger counterpart, that could wait.
"Yes, well, Admiral Thompson is a bit of an exception to the rule, is he not?" Utah gently reminded the younger battleship.
"I know! Still, I hoped it would go better."
"It won't be quick, or easy."
Utah knew that better than anyone. Her efforts...well, she could only keep trying.
"Right. Well, I'll try again! I want to be able to show some progress when Admiral Thompson gets back."
"Good luck."
With those parting words, Utah cut the line and sighed softly. Shaking legs carried her to where her Captain hopefully was, as the aging target ship brushed grey hair from her eyes. Time to find the man, and continue her attempts to communicate. She was close to a breakthrough. Utah
knew she was
extremely close. So close, she could almost feel it. But there was some barrier. Some problem, she had yet to figure out. She could touch her crew. She could make her voice heard, if nothing else, as a ghostly whisper. But proper communication still eluded her.
And Utah knew her time was limited. She was old and tired. Her time was coming to an end, she knew that better than anyone.
Even were she to survive Pearl Harbor, where would she then be? Utah was old, obsolete. She would soon be replaced, likely as not by Wyoming. Even her days as a target ship could only last so long...after war was declared. She knew that, even as it made the battleship wipe a stray tear. Her time with her daughters was coming to a close, yes.
I can't let that stop me.
But she still squared her shoulders, taking in a weary breath. Utah may be old. She may only have a few years left in her. But she
was going to make her voice heard. If she could just make that final breakthrough, she could spread the word to her daughters. And from there, to the carriers. To the cruisers. To the little destroyers. They would all be able to make their voices heard, and then?
Well, then they would stand a much greater chance of
surviving the war. For even if she knew her own time was coming to an end, Utah would be
damned if she saw her daughters die before her.
Utah continues to be fun, at least to write.
