- Location
- Vancouver WA United States
Pennsy sinks old islands. Big J creates new ones!
Changing Destiny (Kancolle)
- Thread starter Skywalker_T-65
- Start date
That was the original Japanese plan : negociate a favorable peace settlement with the US, it is a good plan only if the US were willing to negociate.
Problem, after Pearl Harbor, the US were NOT willing to negociate anything with Japan, it was "surrender or die !
"Very true. I never said he was correct about his objective, just that he knows that he can't win long-term, so he's trying to get into the best position to avoid losing long-term. He probably doesn't realize quite how pissed off the American public is at Japan right now, so he doesn't realize that he's pretty much fucked either way, but based on what knowledge he does have, he's doing his damnedest to try and salvage as much as possible from the shitshow that the politicians forced upon him.That was the original Japanese plan : negociate a favorable peace settlement with the US, it is a good plan only if the US were willing to negociate.
Problem, after Pearl Harbor, the US were NOT willing to negociate anything with Japan, it was "surrender or die !
In other words, he's a damned good officer, doing what good officers do. After all, trying to salvage something from a politically-driven shitshow is the normal situation for an officer... it's just that when the politicians don't just trigger a regular shitstorm, but instead set off a Category Five Shit Hurricane, there's only so much damage mitigation that can be done, and he doesn't (yet) realize quite how bad the situation is.
The plan would have also been better had the Japanese politicians not proceeded to fuck things up further by getting so intoxicated on their early successes that they basically forgot the plan and tried to overextend things. Had, IOTL, Japan offered a negotiated peace immediately after the Philippines fell in early '42, with the Allies still completely reeling from the rate of their early successes, there's a good chance that the US would have been forced to the negotiating table, given the strategic situation. Indeed, the window for trying to sue for a negotiated peace didn't really slam shut, IOTL, until Midway. (Even then, it wouldn't have been completely impossible that they might get the US to agree to peace talks up until the end of '42, particularly during the "Enterprise vs. Japan" period when the US had exactly one major fleet unit in fighting condition. Once the Essex Swarm starts showing up, though, it's all over but the crying.) Before Japan's advance in the Pacific had been turned back, before the Allies started to push them back from their gains, an offer of a negotiated settlement might well have been successful, simply due to pessimistic types (who would probably consider themselves "realistic" at the time) pointing out how badly the Allies were losing the war up to that point; it could well have been seen as a way to salvage as much as possible from the situation.
But no, that's not what happened. Again, intoxicated on their early successes, the politicians thought, "Hell, if we were able to capture our original objectives so quickly and easily, why should we settle for just them? We're unstoppable--we can take it all!" and, rather than suing for peace from a position of strength, continued their offensives, overextending the IJA and IJN and giving the Allies time to have their much greater manpower reserves and industrial capacity start making good on those losses. And even once Coral Sea and Midway had essentially stopped the Japanese advance, the politicians refused to try to negotiate a peace settlement, at least partly because the bastardized version of Bushido that they had been indoctrinated in by the nationalists ever since the Russo-Japanese War considered surrender to be completely unacceptable, and that negotiating a peace instead of achieving complete victory would be a form of surrender...
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- Location
- Vancouver WA United States
They underestimated the American desire for revenge! Hit us on a Sunday morning while we're just waking up? Oh HELL NO!! That's a KO level screwup right there. We Yanks can be vindictive when we want to be!That was the original Japanese plan : negociate a favorable peace settlement with the US, it is a good plan only if the US were willing to negociate.
Problem, after Pearl Harbor, the US were NOT willing to negociate anything with Japan, it was "surrender or die !
Even if Japan had tried to sue for peace before Midway, there's no garuntee the US would have accepted it. America wasn't just out to win, it wanted to do it swimming in Japan's blood!! Getting Hirohito's head on a silver platter would've been a nice bonus too. I cannot overstate how much we HATED Japan at that time.
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Joyful_Overkill
satisfaction in knowing your enemy won't survive.
Many Japanese perceptions of Americans during the time of the second world war seemed to have come from WALLSTREET and HOLLYWOOD.
One thing to point out is that the IJN and IJA thought superior "FIGHTING SPIRIT" would compensate for the economic mismatch against the United States military. BUT, honestly no amount of gumption is going to make a lack of fuel, ammo, or food go away.
One thing to point out is that the IJN and IJA thought superior "FIGHTING SPIRIT" would compensate for the economic mismatch against the United States military. BUT, honestly no amount of gumption is going to make a lack of fuel, ammo, or food go away.
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- Location
- USS Enterprise CV-6
Yep, Halsey's quote about Japanese only being spoken in hell by the time the war was over was quite literally what the average person thought official policy should be during the war.
Why am I thinking of Dr. Strangelove and the quotes about the "Doomsday device gap" and later the "mineshaft gap"? Along with the real life "Cruiser Gap"?
mineshaft gap said:
doomsday gap said:
You cut off the Doomsday Gap quote right before my third-favorite quote from that movie:
"This is preposterous, I never approved such a thing!"
*flat look* "Our source was the New York Times."
Both of those "gaps," of course, were intended as parodies of the "missile gap" that Jack Kennedy had used as part of his election campaign in 1960, based on the completely false theory that the Soviets had massive numbers of ICBMs in service while the US was just starting to get its first ones operational. (Eisenhower knew it was false, but didn't dare help Nixon out by showing it to be true, because the data was based on U-2 overflights of the Soviet Union revealing their actual bomber and ICBM numbers... which was a black program at the time and classified all to hell and back, so if he just announced it without evidence, people would assume he was just making a baseless claim to help Nixon, while releasing the evidence would compromise national security by revealing exactly what the U-2 was and how good its cameras were.)
#2: "Ze entire point of ze doomsday device is lost if you keep it a zecret! Vhy didn't you tell ze vorld?!"
#1: "You know what'll happen if I do this and you don't get the President on the other end of that line?"
"What?"
"You'll have to answer to the Coca-Cola Company."
I love deadpan comedy like that movie...
#1: "You know what'll happen if I do this and you don't get the President on the other end of that line?"
"What?"
"You'll have to answer to the Coca-Cola Company."
I love deadpan comedy like that movie...
Omake: Halloween
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
Omake: Halloween
"Boo!"
That childish voice brought a smile to James Thompson's face, as he exaggeratedly flinched back. A hand came up to his chest as his mouth hung open in a shocked gasp of 'fear'. If the corners of his lips twisted into a smile, well, no one would be able to tell. Certainly not the source of his 'fright' and barely hidden amusement.
"Oh, you got me, Lexie! I'm so scared." He wagged the finger of his free hand, giving up on hiding the smile as he chuckled softly. He couldn't help it, when he saw the pout of the young girl in front of him.
After all, the girl before him looked so much like her namesake that he could easily imagine the smoothly elegant Lex making the same expression. And it made him laugh hard. Internally, of course. No need to laugh at the child in front of him.
Because she just continued to pout, before rolling crystal-blue eyes at him, "You're no fun! I put a lot of work into this costume, y'know!" At that, she waved her hands at her ghostly attire. Ragged blue fabric that was cut and torn in patterns to make it look worn and old. "Isn't my ghost costume the best?"
Thompson smiled and reached out to pat Lexie on the head, "Very good, yes. You should go scare Zuikaku with it. I heard she doesn't like ghosts."
As Lexie's eyes lit up with glee and she charged off towards where the Japanese girls had gathered, Thompson gave up on holding it in. He laughed heartily and shook his head bemusedly. Oh, poor Zuikaku. She wouldn't know what hit her.
"That was cruel of you," Sara walked up to him, her voice mixing reproach and amusement in equal measure. "You know what Zuikaku feels about ghosts. Lexie isn't going to give her a break for the rest of the day."
Shrugging, Thompson turned to Sara with a lopsided grin, "Ah, but you know that Zuikaku will get her back just as good. Lexie's a tornado, but if anyone can deal with her, it's Zuikaku. Or Kaga, for that matter..."
Sara held a hand to her mouth and giggled softly at the image. Thompson joined her with his deeper chuckles, even as he looked over her costume. Leaving aside the slight flush he felt on his neck, he smiled at how she had chosen to celebrate the day. It was both so much like her and yet not at the same time. Sara always wore modest clothes, especially her dresses, so seeing her in something else was...a rare treat.
Though this is still modest, I suppose. It could be like what Bismarck is wearing. Though, then again... He definitely flushed now and wished Schreiber luck in reining the battleship in. It isn't that different from what she normally wears. Or the lack thereof.
For her part, Sara noticed his glance and smiled slightly, "I thought I should dress up as well, you know. I may be on the older side now, but I can still enjoy the holiday."
"I'm the old one here, not you," Thompson's reply was automatic. At Sara's giggles, he rubbed his brow with more than a hint of embarrassment. "Ah...anyway, it looks nice on you? Where'd you even find that?"
Even as he asked the question, he knew the answer. He opened his mouth at the same time that Sara did. Both of their lips curled at the edges in a fond, yet amused, smile. Because they both said the same name with the kind of finality that left nothing to the imagination.
"Lex."
And promptly broke down into helpless laughter. If there were ever a need for fashion of any kind, Lady Lex was the one to go to. While she tried to keep her nickname a more 'Lady of War' thing at most times...she was certainly a fashionista at others. Well, it was probably harmless.
As her giggles trailed off, Sara reached her hands down to brush her skirt a little. "This was more modest than what Lex was suggesting, believe it or not. I think she thought I wanted to seduce you or something."
Thompson rolled his eyes. Yeah, that fit.
"Well, I think you look fine as is." Thompson's arm reached out and Sara was quick to stick her own through it. Arm in arm, they walked along towards where the other girls were rowdily exchanging candy and stories. "Though the leggings are a nice touch."
The grip on his arm tightened and Thompson smirked at the way Sara ducked her head. He laughed softly as he held her to his side, relishing in the chance to just...laugh and joke around with each other. Things weren't always so calm, after all.
While Sara pouted beneath her waves of blue hair, she didn't let go of her grip. Thompson resisted a strong urge to pat her on the head as he had Lexie. Instead, he just hummed tunelessly and enjoyed the moment. And sent another glance at her costume. Where Lex had come up with the idea for a 'school teacher' look right out of the 21st century was beyond him. Not that he was necessarily complaining, either. Sara pulled it off well.
From the black suit jacket, to the long pencil skirt, to the black leggings. Her tie and white blouse were, perhaps, strained a bit more than they'd be on someone of smaller displacement, though. He knew Lex was an excellent tailor as well and had basically the same body proportions as her sister, so this was...certainly her doing. She would know exactly how tight or loose to make something.
It was enough to make him sigh internally. Yup, Lex knows what she's doing. She always does. Especially if that something is trying to set me up with her sister.
Still, as he gave in to the urge to ruffle Sara's blue locks, Thompson smiled, "At least we're all having fun. Don't get the chance for that very often, these days."
Idly swatting at his hand, Sara nodded. While her cheeks still bore a dusting of pink, she looked up at him, green eyes thoughtful. "It is nice to celebrate Halloween like this. It's...easy to forget we were all enemies, not that long ago."
There was more meaning in those words than she might have meant. Thompson opened his mouth to reply, when he was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Hood, stomping between them and the other group. She didn't even seem to notice them at first.
At least until he politely coughed, drawing her attention with a flat, "Where's the fire, Hood? Someone insult your costume?"
Coming to a sharp halt, Hood looked down at her blue dress with its gold trim and grumbled, "No, no one's insulted my bloody costume." She adjusted the wide brimmed hat on her head, settling it at a jaunty angle as she sighed, "That damn German won't stop bragging 'bout how she 'beat' me. As if!"
As usual with her, Hood slipped into a more Scottish brogue the angrier she got. A trait she shared in common with Repulse and Tiger, though unlike them, she was far quicker to anger. Ah, good old Hood. The prim and proper lady in public, the angry brawler in private.
"Ah," Sara nodded along. She gave Hood a small smile, one that was probably meant to comfort her, "Would you like me to talk to her? I was able to keep Doria from messing with Warspite, after all."
"Wait, what?" Thompson looked down at Sara, eyes wide. He'd missed a fight between the Italians and---
Sara smiled genially and patted his arm. Her arm had never left his, not once. "Don't worry, I handled it."
The way she said that, with her green eyes dancing in amusement, did nothing to calm him down. It was...probably fine? He'd need to apologize to Lombardi, wouldn't he? Assuming that man wasn't currently being dragged along by his daughter to get as much candy as possible, anyway. Turbine worked her apparent age to the hilt, as always. She had been adorable in the engineering overalls, though.
...right, anyway. Hood. Who was being remarkably patient, in spite of the clear annoyance in her tight posture.
"I can handle myself, thank you," she rolled her eyes, when Thompson and Sara returned their gazes to her. It didn't stop her from brushing a hand through her overly-styled hair. The blonde locks pulled into a loose braid over her shoulder.
Hood gave a long, low, groan of annoyed frustration. She hook her head. And looked over her shoulder towards where the Germans presumably were.
"I'll challenge her to a rematch, later. That's what I'll do."
Thompson felt he should probably say something about that. But the look of promised pain in Hood's eyes told him it was better to keep his mouth firmly locked shot. Well, this was probably Schreiber's problem anyway. He could keep things handled...hopefully? Sara sent him a look out of the corner of her eye, and Thompson returned it with a thin smile. I'm sure it'll be fine.
In any event, Hood was interrupted in her annoyed pacing by another British woman, lazily walking over. Quite lazily and slowly, in fact. Though that arguably fit the girl in question, since she hadn't been particularly fast on the water, either.
"So this is where you wandered off to." Her deep voice echoed in the hall, as she sent a glance Hood's way, before looking at the cobweb decorated windows. The dim light that came through very much fit the mood of the holiday, casting long shadows on the woman's face. "Doing your best impression of an angry maid, Hood?"
The battlecruiser sputtered, "Maid?"
"You are clearly not cleaning, so yes, angry maid." The other woman spoke as if it was obvious, before stopping in front of Thompson and Sara.
Who stared back in clear confusion. It was incredibly bizarre to see someone talking to Hood like this. The other woman didn't look like she was older or anything like that, either. Her costume didn't give much hint in its own right. Nor did the slight incline of the head she gave the Americans, as she continued to speak in her rich British accent.
"Apologies for Hood, Admiral," the girl's apology seemed sincere enough, anyway. She brought her head up and gave a very slim smile, "Royal Sovereign, in case you were wondering. I don't believe we've been introduced?"
No, they hadn't. Thompson glanced at Sara again and shrugged. She seemed...nice?
"James Thompson," so he held his hand out, taking the woman's surprisingly cool handshake with an ease born of long experience. "You're...the battleship the Brits loaned to the Soviets...?"
"Da." Her dry response was so stereotypically Soviet in its dull flatness that Thompson almost bit his tongue to swallow a startled laugh. The woman's handshake was firm and just shy of painfully tight, when she continued, "I suppose it is no surprise you remember that. Archangel, they called me, in their language."
She let her hand fall away, even as the other one came up and brushed back hair that was so dark blue it shaded towards black. When she ran that hand through her hair, Hood grumbled something like 'bloody show-off' in the background. The battlecruiser stared at the battleship with something resembling annoyed concern. When Thompson sent a look her way, Hood just rolled her eyes.
Sara, though, only giggled softly, "Quite the curt one, isn't she?"
"You aren't wrong," Thompson muttered. Still, he smiled back and said, "So, are you Hood's minder, then?"
"Oi!" Hood snapped, bristling like a particularly annoyed cat. Considering how many of those she had following her around at any given moment, maybe the comparison was more apt than it first appeared.
Instead of answering the question, Royal Sovereign just shrugged. "Oh, something like that. I'm enjoying the party, that's all."
Allowing her hair to fall back down, spreading across her back in a midnight-blue curtain, the battleship looked down at her outfit and smiled thinly.
"The costume is appropriate, I think."
Giving the costume a quick once over, Thompson wondered what she meant by that. It seemed like a weird choice, if you asked him. A deep black dress that fell to her pale thighs, which in turn were covered by torn black socks up to her mid-thigh. The dress had white highlights across her sleeves, reaching up in ragged patterns towards her elbows. White patterns that repeated, as they swirled and mixed on her torso, until they reached the plunging v-line at her neck.
Where one of her hands reached up to adjust a deep red gem at the bottom of a thin gold necklace. She sent the Admiral a dry look, prompting him to look up towards her face, instead. He hadn't been staring!
Though, if she's going for the 'dark queen' look, she's pulling it off quite well. I wonder if she's trying to deliberately mess with Elizabeth. I think she was wearing a 'fantasy queen' dress when I saw her earlier? He rolled his eyes. The British ships couldn't resist ribbing each other, if they were of the World War One generation. Something about being at Jutland or not. She's pulling the look off, I'll give her that.
The jagged white crown atop her head, with horns poking out through her hair on either side of it, certainly completed the 'Dark Queen' impression.
"At any rate, I'll take Hood from here. I have my own bone to pick with the Germans." Royal Sovereign's arm grabbed onto Hood's, pulling the battlecruiser along with her. "Shall we go talk to Bismarck, dear?"
Hood protested mightily, as she was dragged along, her pantyhose clad legs flailing a little. "Hey! Unhand me, you unruly---!"
The British women vanished around a corner, leaving the Americans to stare dully at where they had been. The Admiral and the Carrier shared a single look, before shrugging in unison. Well, that had been a...thing.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
"Someone stop this little devil!"
Upon entering the main party hall, Thompson gave off the sigh of an aggrieved parent. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
"Not at all. You were the one who suggested this." Sara patted his arm and pulled him fully into the room.
Party banners stretched from wall to wall, while various skeletons hung from the ceiling. Pumpkins that had been carved by the destroyers leered out from tables and desks. Cobwebs were everywhere and various 'scary' posters decorated the walls. Lit candles on the tables cast deep shadows over gruesome looking- but excellent tasting -meals. More than a few 'severed heads' lay around, as well. He could have sworn a couple of the 'zombies' moved, and he wouldn't be surprised if the more techy engineering girls had set that up.
It was stereotypical Halloween, but at the same time, was that really a bad thing?
"Yes, this is all my fault. Completely." The Admiral's dry voice did nothing to hide his happiness, though.
After all, it was basically impossible not to be amused. Watching little Lexie, in her blue ghost dress, chasing Zuikaku around. Whoever had conspired to stuff the twin-tailed carrier into a turkey costume deserved a pay raise. Also a facial reconstruction surgery after she got done clawing their face off, too.
For now, it was simply hilarious to watch. Zuikaku's 'feathers' spraying away from her as Lexie giggled, chasing after her with a model Hellcat in hand. "Come on, ZuiZui! Have fun!"
"Being chased by a ghost isn't my idea of fun, you crazy American!" Zuikaku shot back, her face flushed in embarrassment and annoyance in equal measure. "Shoukaku-nee! Help me!"
Sitting at a table in her 'nurse' outfit, that showed far more skin than it covered, Shoukaku sipped at a glass that was probably not alcoholic. Probably. She gave a beatific smile at her sister and shrugged.
"Let her have her fun, Zuikaku. She's not hurting anything."
The look of betrayal on Zuikaku's face was enough to make Thompson's facade of 'disinterested Admiral' crack. It also prompted him to turn his head to Sara and pull his arm away, "So, you or I?"
Sara tapped her chin with her freed hand, before giggling softly, "I suppose I should round her up. She is my daughter."
"Have fun then!" Thompson waved Sara off, the carrier smoothly striding over to pull Lexie up by the hood of her blue outfit.
The squawks of protest prompted chuckles, as the Admiral sat down at one of the tables. He put his chin in his hands, looking out at the hall. Battleships and carriers sharing drinks. Destroyers prowling in packs to ambush cruisers and make off with their candy. He spotted Skipjack, at one point, 'sailing' between tables as she reached her hands out and stuck candy in the voids that were her storage spaces. She had winked at him, too, before vanishing as quickly as she'd appeared.
Submarines. They just couldn't help themselves.
Leaning back in his chair, Thompson continued to laugh softly and genuinely. Watching Italian and American destroyers gang up on German ones made him smile. Seeing Bismarck being scolded by Schreiber got a snort. Seeing Sara carrying Lexie by her hood to drop her at Lex's feet made him feel a warm rush in his chest. He saw Enterprise and Hiryu swapping stories as if they were old friends.
It was all...so very nice.
I hope this never ends. This friendship and comradery.
I hope you're having a fine dream, James.
Sitting by her slumbering Admiral, Saratoga reached down to softly brush a strand of greying hair from his face. He smiled in his sleep and leaned into the touch. She couldn't help the fond expression crossing her own face, at that. In spite of the rocking motion of her hull, resting between battles, it was...comforting. This peaceful moment. They could only take what they could get, at times like this.
It almost didn't feel like a holiday, sometimes. October 31st was just another day.
"Rest well, James. I'll always be here for you." Sara leaned down and left a soft kiss on his brow, before settling back in her chair to stand guard.
Or so she would tell anyone who happened to come in. Her crew wouldn't do that, though. They respected her and the Admiral too much for that. It prompted another smile, as she shut her green eyes, and let herself drift off to a peaceful slumber as well.
There would be plenty enough time for talking with her crew when the sun rose, after all.
AN: Just a quick little omake for the holidays. Or so the intention is
Hopefully entertaining enough for what it is. The next proper chapter will be...soon-ish, hopefully. Maybe this weekend? Well, that'll depend largely on subbing, we suppose. Plans can and will change in that regard. Watch this space.
*Hopefully* this weekend, though.
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Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
A nice, cute, bit of post-war fun. Lexie is very a cute, Hood and Bismarck may or may not be flirting, and subthieves being subtheives.
Icipall
Don't worry, we can fanfix that!
- Location
- Cold snow fields of Finland
This is adorable.
Headpats for everyone!!!
Well, I'm not complaining.
But we want you to do that!
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5Y25FT7DxE
And we love her for it.
Don't get between two angry battleships when you're a squishy human. Unless they're making a sandwich and you're the filling.
Seems like she identifies still more as a British than Soviet ship.
These, these are very nice.
So who's the dom?
FailLord
2050 lb bombs?
- Location
- very high up
I'm pretty sure Thompson is dreaming of his first life.
- Location
- USS Enterprise CV-6
Either that or a dream of the future and i'm leaning towards the latter. Main reason for that is child Lexington who I assuming is a "natural born" instead of having been summoned. Also the implication that young Lexie is Thompson and Sara's child.
Icipall
Don't worry, we can fanfix that!
- Location
- Cold snow fields of Finland
Considering that both Lombardi and Turbine were mentioned, I'd say it is a future, not his past life:
Chapter 66
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
Chapter 66
"Hey...you seeing this too, Conlin?"
With a soft groan of protest, Tommy Conlin crawled on his stomach towards the harsh whisper. The deep muck beneath him shifted with each movement, even as it clung to every open spot it could find. It had long-since ruined the camouflage pattern on his uniform, even as it added its own dirty disguise to him. Not least because it had become impossible to tell when his uniform began and where it ended, since his skin was the exact same dull color. The mud took no prisoners in what it stuck to.
He was lucky that he had a rifle and not a Reising, or he would probably have never even been able to fire the damn thing.
"What are we looking at, Frank?" Tommy whispered back when he reached his old friend. The burly marine, only his head visible from his little foxhole, turned to give Tommy a small smirk.
It was never good when Frank smirked like that. Tommy sighed again and shook his head. Great. Why do I get the feeling we're about to go raiding a Jap base or something?
Frank would quickly prove Tommy right, when he waved a hand in the direction of a gap in the trees. His smirk, though, shifted into a more pensive expression as he said, "I think that's their airstrip down there. Keep hearing the sound of engines. A lot of 'em, too. More than we've seen on any of these little shit stains of islands."
"Planes?" Tommy frowned back, idly scratching at his scalp as he plopped down into Frank's foxhole. He grimaced at the caked mud that came away, before shaking his head. What I wouldn't do for a hot shower... "Do you think something is going on down there?"
"Dunno, I'm not a general. But that many planes can't be good, and I trust my ears. I know what those little radials sound like."
It took everything Tommy had to not send a dry look at Frank's BAR when he heard those words. Frank's hearing had to be tougher than the man himself to still be that good, considering how often he fired that beast right by his face. Still, he wasn't lying either. Tommy had heard plenty enough Japanese planes to recognize the sound. It was a sound he could never forget, as a flash of a redhaired woman came and went behind his eyes.
"So, what do you want to do about it?" Instead of doubting his friend, Tommy just looked up over the rim of the foxhole. The gap in the trees gave little away. He couldn't even see flashes of silver. "There's not exactly a lot of us here, y'know. We've got what...a company? Maybe?"
The young marine turned his head to look back over his shoulder. He couldn't see any of the other marines, of course, but he knew they were all there. Hard not to. He'd been serving with these men through thick and thin. They were brothers in the truest sense of the word. He didn't need to see them to know they were watching his back, even now. No way the Japanese were slinking up on them right now.
Frank sighed deeply, "Yeah...I get it. But are you going to tell me that you'd rather sit up here while they hit the fleet?"
"Of course not."
Those words got a snort from Frank, who was at least somewhat aware of Tommy's letters. The burly mountain of a man rolled his eyes and hauled his BAR up from the bottom of the foxhole. "Probably won't be our choice anyway, Conlin. Can guarantee you that the Major is going to want to hit that place while we have the chance." His eyes bored into Tommy's soul with the rare seriousness in them, as he spoke again, "Like it or not, we can't just let them build up like this."
As he followed Frank in climbing free from the foxhole, Tommy grunted in annoyance. Yeah. He knew that. He had known the moment Frank brought up the planes. It wouldn't be the first Japanese airfield the Raiders had stormed, and it probably wouldn't be the last. It sometimes felt like a never-ending parade of the things. Every little island the Japanese had; they plopped an airfield on.
"Getting tired of all these goddamn---" before Tommy could finish his sentence, Frank said one more thing to make him flinch in place.
Frank didn't even notice, as his words echoed around Tommy's head, "'sides, Conlin, it ain't like it's just us. You're forgetting that girl we picked up."
It was an idle comment, but there was so much wrapped up in it that Tommy couldn't help but wince. Ah. Her. How could I possibly forget her?
He wasn't with this group, though, tromping through dense jungle undergrowth. Through thick trees that hung over their heads with every step they took. The dim and fading sunlight that managed to find a way through the overhanging branches cast them all in shadow.
Even the girl at the front of them all. Maybe especially the girl in front of them all.
"You sure about this, Frank? I mean, I know what she can do, but she's just a kid..." another of the Marines whispered, though not out of Tommy's earshot. He was, after all, right next to Frank.
And if he could hear the jarhead, then so could the girl. Who twitched and sent a baleful glare their way, twisting her head around with her auburn-colored ponytail twitching with the movement. Her reddish-brown eyes could have melted the man on the spot with the intensity of her glare. "What was that?! I bet I'm older than you are, jackass!"
The marine had the grace to flush a bit under the caked mud, though he still had a mulish set to his jaw, "So? You still look like a kid, damnit."
That he cursed at all simply showed he knew she wasn't a kid. Not even a hard-bitten marine would casually curse in front of an actual girl. Certainly not one who looked, for better or worse, as if she was no older than 15 or 16.
"Hmph!" She tilted her nose up and spun around, stomping up next to another marine in line.
With a soft chuckle, Frank placed a hand on the other marine's shoulder and gave it a hearty pat, "You were asking for that one, bud. You know as well as I do what her temper is like." He tilted his head in the direction of the girl in her dirty dungarees, quite unlike the tattered blue dress they had found her in. "Best advice you'll get all year: leave her be and let her do her thing. I can't stop her, you can't, and the Major sure as hell won't."
"Still don't feel right." The other man grumbled.
For his part, Tommy could only shake his head and sigh softly. No, it didn't, but what could they really do about it? "Speaking from experience, here, when one of these girls wants to help...nothing you or anyone else can do to stop them."
"Yeah! Tommy here was on Arizona when the Japs hit Pearl. He knows them better than anyone." Frank clapped Tommy on the back with a wide grin.
Thankfully, he refrained from mentioning the letters. For once. Tommy could still see the humor behind his eyes. One of these days, he was going to find a way to rib Frank about his own girl back home. One of these days...
As for the girl who was with them, she twitched again and came to a sudden halt. Her face titled to the sky and her lips pursed. All of the marines came to a stop, as well, because for all their grumbling about how she looked, they knew the girl could hear things none of them could dream of. Sense things. It was some weird spooky spirit thing, or something like that. She couldn't explain it and they'd all given up on asking.
It just...worked.
"That place is packed with planes." She spoke without preamble, her words firm and controlled. "Not many guards. They aren't expecting an attack."
Well, it had been firm and in control. When she mentioned the lack of guards, her voice lowered, dangerously. Anyone who could see the girl's face would have seen a vicious smirk appear, beneath her scars. The kind of smirk that wouldn't be out of place on the more bloodthirsty of the marines. On a teenage girl it seemed incredibly out of place.
On this girl, it was par for the course.
"How many?" As the more-or-less leader of the group, Frank stepped up beside the girl, Tommy trailing alongside him.
The girl looked over and kept the smirk on her face, "Maybe one hundred. Not counting the pilots and ground crew, I guess. But they don't matter."
Arizona was nicer than her, Tommy reflected, as even Frank hid a shudder at the bloodlust in the girl's voice. Then again, this girl had a lot worse happen to her than Arizona did. More like Utah. And even Utah didn't...
"Can't ask you to stay behind, can we?" Tommy asked that question, even though he already knew the answer. As the closest thing to an 'expert' they had, it needed to be him. "I guess I already know the answer, but someone has to ask."
"Never." The girl proved him right, hefting a Thompson that no one was quite sure how she had obtained, over her shoulder. Her molten eyes daring him to say anything else. "You can't keep me from tearing those bastards a new one if you tried. They owe me." Her smirk turned downright deadly when she continued with, "And I intend to collect."
More than a few marines shuddered, in spite of themselves. Their feelings on the Japanese ranged from downright racist to 'they deserve what's 'comin to 'em' at the best of times. But anyone who had seen what this girl considered justifiable revenge still winced. Not in sympathy. But because of the idea of such a violent girl. She didn't go out of her way to torture the enemy or anything like that, but she certainly didn't show mercy either. She tore through them like a hurricane. Or, perhaps more pertinently...
...like a destroyer among defenseless transports.
"Well. That's settled then!" Frank looked at the others and jerked his head towards the thinning treeline. "Let's get moving while we have the chance. Sun's going down soon and I'd like to be in position before sundown. Less chance we'll lose someone."
Tommy nodded, "And more chance we'll know where we're going. Don't fancy stumbling around in the dark to get stabbed by some idiot with a sword."
He spoke from experience, there. He'd seen a Japanese officer charge a group of marines when they were clearing a base on another of these endless islands, chopping one man's arm clean off before stabbing another through the chest. That the idiot had been pumped full of so much thirty-aught-six that he looked like minced meat hadn't mattered in the end.
It had also given Tommy a very healthy respect for Japanese officers. Or, at least, for how willing they were to go down swinging. Metaphorically and very, very, literally. The only one here that could take a sword strike was, well, the girl. Though if anyone got near her with one of those samurai swords, they were quickly going to regret that mistake.
She had a...thing for Japs with swords. A very violent and unending rage filled thing.
"You're on point, Conlin," Frank continued, sending a grin at his best friend. "Take Edsall there with ya, too. She'll sniff out any traps you miss."
Tommy sent a look at the girl, who sent him a stubborn glare back. If she expected him to say 'no', then she didn't really know him. "Sure. Not the first time I've worked with a girl like this."
As he thought back to Pearl Harbor, he reflected that it really wasn't.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
You know, she isn't bad company. Once you get past the fact she's got more rage than a battalion of angry marines in a body I could carry under my arm.
With the sun now set and a full moon overhead, Tommy and Edsall stood together, hidden from any prying eyes. His rifle was propped on a handy crate, while her Thompson rested in her arms. The two of them maintained a...companionable silence. If only because they couldn't exactly be talking even if they wanted to. Middle of a Japanese base and all that. It turned out, at least, that Edsall had been correct about the relative lack of guards.
Not that Tommy, of all people, had ever really doubted her.
"So." He did whisper, dark eyes shifting to stare at the girl out of the corner of his eye, "Ever figure out exactly how you know what they're doing? Or how many of them are out here?"
Edsall rolled her eyes, "No. Something about my lookouts or something. Speaking of which, Jap right about to walk in front of us."
Tommy winced and clamped his jaw shut. His Springfield shifted, just a little, as his finger inched towards the trigger. He could hear the footsteps now, too, as a Japanese soldier patrolled the area. The man was short and thin, what little of his face that was visible gaunt and tight. Malnutrition. Tommy might once have felt sympathetic, knowing well how difficult it was to get even something as simple as food to these islands.
That sympathy had long-since been burned out of him.
Instead, he looked down the sights of his rifle and held his finger next to the trigger. He held his breath, not even willing to breathe, as the Japanese soldier walked past them. Don't look at us. Don't look at us. Don't look at us.
Repeating that mantra in his head, Tommy only faintly noticed Edsall move up beside him. Her footsteps quieter than a ghost, in spite of the mushy soil beneath them. Her ponytail swayed in the moonlight, as the girl raised her Thompson and pointed it directly at the back of the Jap's head. Tommy didn't fail to notice how her hands clenched the wood of the stock so tightly that they turned pale white.
Luckily for them both, the Japanese soldier never looked their way.
Unluckily for them both, a set of explosions rang out. The mountain howitzer they'd appropriated from another group of now very-dead Japanese soldiers had opened fire. As fast as the gun's impromptu crew could cycle it, the thing was raining fire down upon the airbase. Each explosion relatively small in size, but all the louder for how silent the night had been.
It really shouldn't have surprised Tommy that Edsall fired her submachine gun the moment that the first shell had landed. The unfortunate enemy soldier had his head turned to paste before he had even turned to look at the explosions. Goddamn, I really need to avoid getting on her bad side. I've never seen anyone fire a burst that tight.
Then again...wasn't she using the combined skill of her entire gun crew?
"Come on! Let's get 'em before they figure out what's happening!" Edsall leapt over the rotting crate, not a care in the world. Her shout had been covered up by another explosion, this time a Zero that got unlucky, anyway.
"Edsall!" Tommy snapped after her, cursing under his breath when she didn't even slow down. "Damn girl! She's going to get herself killed one of these days..."
Still, Tommy jumped over the crate, himself, and charged right after her. He wasn't actually sure how much it would take to put her down, sure, but he wasn't inclined to figure it out either. Edsall may have technically been older than him, yeah, but he didn't want to see her hurt. The girl still looked like a girl. It didn't matter if she could bend him over her knee without even trying.
"Over here!" Her responding shout was accompanied by a burst from her Thompson.
Tommy grunted a non-verbal response and stopped just long enough to raise his Springfield to his shoulder and fire a shot at a Japanese soldier who stumbled into sight. The man had wide eyes; fear written clearly across his face. Yet he had still reached for the sling of an Arisaka on his shoulder, and Tommy hadn't hesitated. He worked the bolt of his Springfield, chambered a new round, and ducked beside Edsall as another brace of explosions rocked the base. Ah. That would be the second pack howitzer.
Seriously, did the Japanese not consider the things being used against them?
Edsall, crouching beside a primitive hut as she reloaded her Thompson, simply grinned at him. It wasn't a nice grin.
She enjoys this way too much. I thought what I heard about Utah was... Tommy shook his head. Not worth worrying about. All Edsall's anger was focused on one target, anyway. "So, where are you planning on charging off this time?"
"Right for the planes." Her answer was prompt and entirely expected. As was the way she hefted the submachine gun and looked away from him towards where the fires were raging the hardest.
The marine could only sigh and resign himself to his fate. "That's about what I expected. Wait a sec, will you?"
Turning around, Tommy cupped his free hand to his lips and shouted back towards the darkness. He knew exactly where the other marines were, even if he couldn't see them. He was the point-man for a reason, and it wasn't just because he had the best luck of anyone in the battalion.
"Oi, Frank! We're moving up! Get your asses out here and help out, you lazy bum!"
His words probably wouldn't mean anything to the Japanese. Even if they had someone who could speak English well enough to understand them. He hadn't said anything about where they were or what they were planning. Where they were going. Edsall sent him something resembling an approving look, before racking the bolt on her Thompson and nodding sharply. Tommy returned the nod with a healthy amount of trepidation as he brought up his own Springfield.
This girl was going to be the death of him...
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Explosions continued to rattle the night as the howitzers used what might as well be their entire ammunition load. Why save any when they could just raid the airbase's stocks, since the Japanese always had some on hand? Each shell they fired was less soldiers to deal with. More wrecked planes. Even if they had to abandon the attack, every plane and every destroyed building counted for something. It was the Raider way. Cause as much chaos and mayhem as possible, get out, and do it again. That they were even trying to take the airbase at all was entirely down to the fact they had a factor the Japanese didn't.
One that was currently kicking a Japanese pilot to the ground mercilessly, before firing a bullet between his eyes.
"Never, ever," Tommy panted, as he reached a hand up to his brow. He didn't bother hiding the shaking, the adrenaline pumping through his system. "Getting on her bad side..."
His ears picked up the sound of footsteps, and his head snapped in the direction they had come from. A Japanese soldier, blood running from a gash on his forehead, was raising one of those fancy submachine guns of theirs. The magazine sticking out of the side marked it as loaded and aimed right at him. Oh no you don't!
His Springfield came up to his shoulder once again, barking out a sharp report. The Japanese man fell with a strangled cry, his weapon spinning away into the night. Tommy didn't even bother paying attention beyond that. He simply looked around cautiously for any other surprise guests. All he could see were bodies and flaming debris, however. As another explosion rang out, he saw the wing of a Zero catapult into a flaming hut.
...yeah, they weren't fixing this anytime soon.
"This way, Conlin!" Edsall's shout would have been right at home with the marines, were it not for her tiny, teenage voice. Her hand waved towards a larger building near the airstrip. That one was untouched.
It was probably their command-and-control building. Or the officer's quarters. It was something important, at any rate.
That tracks. Well, into the breach again!
"We're hitting them where it hurts, if you're up to it!" Edsall knew what she was doing, of course. She sent him a taunting smirk. "If you're man enough to keep up with a little girl!"
Part of Tommy reflected that he should probably be worried that this was the situation where she decided to joke. The rest was just happy she wasn't wearing that angry glare for the moment. "I can handle myself, you little brat. I was at Pearl, y'know!"
"So you keep saying!" Edsall shot back, before spinning around and firing a burst from her Thompson. A pained scream was followed by the sound of a body falling to the ground.
He was never going to stop being jealous of her ability to know what was around her like that. Was he?
"Coming, then?" Her cheeky grin still didn't quite reach her eyes. Those were still filled with the pools of rage he only barely understood. Reflecting the fire in their reddish-brown depths.
Tommy opened his mouth to reply, when Edsall spun to the ground. The report of an Arisaka echoed, as the marine bit back a string at curses at his inattention. His head snapped on a swivel, spotting a Jap sniper perched atop one of the flaming buildings. His uniform was scorched and torn, his arms bloody, but the grip on his scoped rifle was steady. It was already swinging in his direction, as Tommy instinctively brought his own gun up.
The sniper and the marine stared at each other. The Japanese man worked the bolt of his rifle. The American brought his own to his shoulder.
It was a matter of which one shot first.
A crack echoed in the night.
That was way too close. FUCK! How did I---
A sniper slumped atop his rifle as flames consumed his body. Tommy lowered his rifle and sucked in a breath. Marines and marksmanship training had come in handy once again. If he ever saw Gunny again, he was shaking the man's hand. For now, though, he shook his head and rushed over to where Edsall was sprawled on the ground. He was worried about her in the way an older brother was, maybe. Even if she was older. Even if she was tougher.
Even if he didn't need to worry, as she rose up and rubbed at her face. An angry red welt was revealed, right between her eyes. A scowl was firmly welded upon her youthful features, as she growled out, "Fucking hell that smarts! Bastard got the drop on me like a greenhorn..."
Tommy slowed down and shook his head, as other marines began to pick their way through the rubble. He never would understand this girl. "Well, guess you're fine then. Didn't need to worry."
"I'm a destroyer. You think a little bullet is going to put me down?" Edsall rolled her eyes and hopped back to her feet. She leaned over to pick up her Thompson and dust it off. "Now, where were we again?"
In answer, one of the other marines rushed over to Tommy. The man had soot across his face and caking his beard, as he panted and thrust a piece of paper out. "Conlin, take a look at this! You read Japanese, right?"
Taking the paper as gunfire continued in the distance, Tommy frowned. "A bit, but I'm not exactly fluent. What's up?"
"It's orders, according to Miller. Orders for the airbase."
Frowning now as Edsall stood on her toes to look over his shoulder, Tommy read the paper. The words were a bit hard to grasp, though he'd picked up enough Japanese to at least kinda understand it. What he could understand had his hands clenching. And Edsall hissing out a curse. She could understand it, because at least one or two of her crew over the years had been able to read Japanese.
As Tommy crumpled the orders in his clenched fist, Edsall let out an inarticulate cry of rage. The sudden pressure of air being displaced told Tommy all he needed to know. It hurt her to do it, something about the weight, but she had just pulled out her real weapons. New cannon roared into the night as Japanese planes exploded and screams in their language picked up in intensity. This airfield would need some serious work from the Seabees if they wanted to use it.
Tommy didn't try and stop her.
They're going to hit the fleet. This is just one part of the plan. He looked at the other marine and grit his teeth. Nothing he could do other than get a message back to the Major. "Get this back to the camp, fast as you can. Tell the Major to get on the horn to Guadalcanal as quick as he can. We've gotta warn the fleet while we have the chance. You hear me?!"
The other marine didn't even question the order, even if he was probably not outranked here. He just gave a sharp nod, took the message back, and sprinted off into the darkness. Tommy watched him go, before looking at Edsall. Her back was surrounded by metal, with miniature 4-inch cannons mounted atop it. One was held in her hand, too, and it was that one that had replaced her Thompson in blasting away.
She wasn't going to listen until she had gotten it out of her system.
This is a mess. We ruined this part of their plan, but Edsall...she's going to hate that she's here instead of out there. Tommy sighed as he thought about that. Yeah. She'd want to be out on the ocean where a destroyer belonged. Escorting the fleet.
She was stuck here, though, and was fighting in the only way she knew how, even if she was going to be curled in a pained ball when it was done.
Well, he'd help her up when the time came. As would any of the other marines. She may have been navy, but she was one of them now. A Marine Raider, through and through. They'd help her just like she'd help them.
That was how the Raiders worked.
South Pacific Area of Operations
"You're still up, James?"
Far away from a blazing airfield, the night air was filled with the scent of the ocean breeze. Even steaming at her cruising speed, the air rushing over Saratoga's bridgewing was enough to make Thompson's short hair flutter slightly. He didn't need to look to know it was sending a blue wave cascading behind the woman at his back. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his face, either. Sara could always find him, no matter where he was, or when it was.
"Sorry, Sara. Couldn't sleep." Thompson didn't turn his head, as the carrier walked up to stand next to him. He just looked down at her, green meeting green, and smiled wider. "I see you can't, either. Worried?"
Sara shook her head and gave him the smile he knew she had been wearing, "Why would I be? I trust you."
"I wish I could trust myself." Smile fading, if only a little, the admiral looked down on her deck. Wildcats were parked and ready for the morning patrol, as the ship never truly slept. Men were darting around the stubby little fighters and the larger Dauntlesses, making sure everything was ready for when the pilots got up and arrived. It was my idea. I want to always have planes ready to launch. The Japanese love their ambushes, and we still don't know exactly where their fleet is.
Sighing to steady his thoughts, Thompson shook his head. He could, and probably would, worry himself to death at this rate. His foreknowledge was becoming less and less useful every day and it did concern him more than he'd care to ever admit. For better or worse. Even the fact he could see the faint form of Wasp in the distance, having joined Sara and Lex, did little to change that.
"You haven't led us astray yet, James, and I don't think you will. At least," here, Sara reached her hand out and pulled his arm to her side. She smiled gently at him and winked slyly. "If you get enough sleep. If you're spending the entire night brooding, you're not going to help anyone. Come on, let's get back to bed."
Thompson couldn't help the smile on his face as he allowed Sara to drag him along, "You always know what to say. It's like you know me or something."
"Perish the thought, sir."
Both of them shared a soft chuckle as they strode onto the bridge proper and towards his cabin. The night watch wore smiles of their own, along with more than a few cases of rolled eyes. The betting pool was getting ever larger each day and it was getting a bit concerning how long it was taking. They weren't getting any younger!
Down on Sara's deck, meanwhile, men continued their diligent work. Her morning patrol would be up in less than an hour, before the first bits of sunlight. Their admiral liked having his patrol up before the sunrise to prepare for any eventuality. If the pilots felt like complaining about the early mornings, they kept it to themselves. Besides, they generally agreed with him anyway. As Sara had said...he hadn't led them astray yet. And if it was worth a little less sleep, then it was fine by them.
They weren't about to let their home sink beneath them.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Kojiro Takeda pulled his goggles down as he sat in the cockpit of his Reisen. His hands moved in practiced motions over the controls, checking, double checking, triple checking to make certain everything was in good order. It was an automatic kind of motion. It might well be the last time he ever made it.
"The admiral is allowing me this mission. Even though he wants me as his aide." The young pilot looked up, staring out the glass of his cockpit. All around him, the roar of dozens of other radial engines echoed. The first rays of the rising sun shone down upon Zuikaku, an auspicious sign if there ever was one. I should make this a good mission. If I never fly again, be it because he's taken me to his staff or because I'm permanently grounded upon Zuikaku, I won't do it with regrets.
The decisive battle was coming, like it or not. He could hear Zuikaku's words ringing in his ears, even now.
"Don't let yourself die out there, got it! I'll never forgive you if you do!" She had shouted, hands on her hips and hair shifting with every motion. Her eyes had looked him straight in the soul, when she continued, "I won't let the Fifth Carrier Division be disgraced here! We will be the ones to defeat the Americans."
Takeda had smiled and nodded along, "Of course. I have my own honor to uphold, Zuikaku. After my failure at Pearl Harbor."
"Good! Don't forget that we're in this together. We can't lose like that!" She'd given him a cheeky salute and he'd returned it easily.
It was all too easy to fall into the sibling dynamic. He didn't regret it. Even if he should die on this mission, he wouldn't have regretted it. Now that he was past the strangeness of it all...he was at peace with it. He enjoyed having Zuikaku as the closest thing to a little sister he would likely ever have. His eyes returned to his instruments, checking what his hands had done, one last time. Satisfied that everything was in order, he placed his hands on his lap and took in a steadying breath of air.
When he looked up again, he could see Zuikaku's form on the edge of the group of planes. No one else acknowledged her but him, and he was strangely okay with that. He didn't wave or do anything but send a nod her way. He didn't need to do anything else.
She did more than enough, jumping up and down like the girl she appeared to be. Waving frantically and shouting words he couldn't hear. He didn't need to hear them. Takeda smiled beneath his goggles and turned back to the front of his cockpit as the first planes began to take off into the rising sun. She's doing what she can to help me, even if this is all she can do. I must do the same for her. For the admiral and the Emperor.
For Japan.
His Reisen followed the others into the sky and towards a battle that, one way or another, would decide the war.
AN: PHEW
Okay, right, this took longer than expected. Not least because it ended up longer than anticipated. Hopefully good too.
Anyway, reveal we were building towards for a bit there. Edsall. Who, suffice it to say, had a similar experience to her historical counterpart. Identical? Probably not. Similar enough? Probably. She's...not a happy girl. Not a happy girl at all. She had some pretty bad experiences there. And we're operating on the assumption that ship girls can at least kinda-sorta remember/experience what their surviving crew does after sinking, since there's the common trope of 'crew who certainly didn't die aboard' coming back as fairies. Most infamously Halsey with Enterprise being a common trope.
But yeah. Angry DD is angry. Very angry.
Not an Abyssal, though.
We're also getting into the equivalent to Santa Cruz, here. That'll be fun. Well, equivalent to Santa Cruz in 'big South Pacific carrier battle'. Not necessarily in results.
Next chapter will...hopefully be up soon-ish. Then again, battles are our bane. We'll see. Going to at least try working on it this weekend, but again, battles. There's rather a reason that most of the airbase raid was off-screen <.<
Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
And, just for context with angry DD:
Wings-Of-Change
On the Changiest of wings
- Location
- Somewhere over the rainbow
Honestly I'm really hoping Takeda survives
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
I can picture this scene on Hiei:
Junior Officer Who Can See Shipgirls: *Sees Fast Battleship walking onto bridge with tray* Oh, no...not again....
*Said tray - until now only visible to Junior Officer - suddenly appears balanced on an engine telegraph beside the Captain*
CAPT Nishida Masao: *Notices* Eh? *picks up the cover and blinks, then looks around* OK, who brought the - kami, is this blue curry?! - onto the bridge?
CDR Shiwa Kotora (Navigator): Um, sir...whatever it is, it seems to be eating through the bowl.
CAPT Nishida: *Glances down and does a double take* What in the world...?
*The XO and Gunnery Officer come onto the bridge*
CDR Tamura Raizo (XO): The guns are ready for combat, sir.
CDR Taketani Kiyoshi (Gunnery Officer): *sees the tray* What's this?
CDR Shiwa: *flatly* It's blue.
CAPT Nishida: *to Tamura* Thank you, XO. I need to discuss something with you. *to Taketani* Don't eat that!
Junior Officer: *Resolutely keeps his eyes scanning the horizon and not on the pouting fast battleship in the corner of the bridge muttering to herself about how her crew doesn't appreciate her culinary talents*
Junior Officer Who Can See Shipgirls: *Sees Fast Battleship walking onto bridge with tray* Oh, no...not again....
*Said tray - until now only visible to Junior Officer - suddenly appears balanced on an engine telegraph beside the Captain*
CAPT Nishida Masao: *Notices* Eh? *picks up the cover and blinks, then looks around* OK, who brought the - kami, is this blue curry?! - onto the bridge?
CDR Shiwa Kotora (Navigator): Um, sir...whatever it is, it seems to be eating through the bowl.
CAPT Nishida: *Glances down and does a double take* What in the world...?
*The XO and Gunnery Officer come onto the bridge*
CDR Tamura Raizo (XO): The guns are ready for combat, sir.
CDR Taketani Kiyoshi (Gunnery Officer): *sees the tray* What's this?
CDR Shiwa: *flatly* It's blue.
CAPT Nishida: *to Tamura* Thank you, XO. I need to discuss something with you. *to Taketani* Don't eat that!
Junior Officer: *Resolutely keeps his eyes scanning the horizon and not on the pouting fast battleship in the corner of the bridge muttering to herself about how her crew doesn't appreciate her culinary talents*
- Location
- USS Enterprise CV-6
Poor Edsall, she needs all the therapy post-war if what happened to her and her crew was as similar as you say it was. On the upside if L. Ron. Hubbard tries to claim he was on her and was the "sole survivor" of the incident like OTL I fully expect her to punch him without holding back.
Sakuya's Butler
A refined Butler to a knife wielding Mistress.
- Location
- ↓, ↘, → + Punch
He'll wish she just left it at one punch.
I've got money on him requiring reconstructive surgery for his face. That is one biblically angry DD, and he just insulted her crew. Her true crew.
In the opposite, I really am interested to see how Hachi's character forms. In virtually all fanfics where she shows up, she's haunted & HORRIFIED by what her captain ordered done. Same for another surface ship.
Back to Edsall...
Tommy might, briefly, have a LOT of fast talking he'll need to do once back at Pearl, and Arizona sees him.
With Edsall reeeeeally close to him. Practically hip-to-hip.
OTOH, Edsall likely isn't going to let 'her' Marine Raider get cold-shouldered, so likely as bold as brass, marches up to Ari and tells her 'here's your Marine back. He wouldn't even look at me that way, the way he did while he was reading all your letters', and then march off. Smirking, the lil shit she is, knowing the two are likely beet red, and Tommy is getting heckled by his fellows. Chao, Panic, Disorder, a DD's work is never done.
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deFarnesse
He Who Travels
- Location
- In another World
- Pronouns
- He/Him/It
Eyyy its back. Hope Conlin lives through this hellhole though, those Japanese wouldn't want a REALLY pissed off destroyer with another level of angry.
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Skywalker_T-65
Writer with too many ideas.
- Location
- United States
- Pronouns
- Plural/They/He/Her
Should probably avoid using that contraction in that way.
We use it in the text because it's historically accurate and we write from the perspective of the characters, even in the non-dialogue text.
It's…pretty frowned upon outside that context.
We use it in the text because it's historically accurate and we write from the perspective of the characters, even in the non-dialogue text.
It's…pretty frowned upon outside that context.
floppy_seal99
D-O-G-A-R-S DOGARS!
- Location
- snooping as usual
Wait...hold on...given what's going on in Mainland Asia during the events of his story...do Korean and Chinese people (plus Filipinos, Indonesians, Malays, and Vietnamese people) have the J*p pass? Can...can we give it to other people for the meme?