Not only did I get an Indy Double Feature up, I also have an update for Destiny! A long-ish one too, if not as long as the last one. Lot happening, and more Little E/Halsey too!
Chapter 20:
William "Bull" Halsey was not a man inclined to patience. He knew what people said about him when they thought he didn't hear of course. That he was a hardass who was constantly abrasive and pushing forward on whatever he felt needed, and 'damn the torpedoes'. He wouldn't deny
that point. Hell, he
embraced it. And why shouldn't he? Hit Hard, Hit Fast, Hit Often. It was a strategy he was growing ever more fond of, especially now. But he couldn't do a damn thing
with that, because he was stuck waiting aboard
Enterprise.
"Admiral...?"
And on that note, he would
never get used to seeing Enterprise herself. Halsey's sharp eyes ranged over the tiny little girl, as she stood ramrod straight. Halsey felt his lips twitch slightly upward at that, though he didn't show it.
"Yes, Enterprise?" His gruff voice spoke up, hiding any other emotions he may have been feeling.
"Are you alright with all of this?" The carrier asked softly, shuffling slightly under his stern gaze. No one that Halsey had met stayed completely still under that gaze. Not Thompson, and not Enterprise. "I mean, what if they...what if they take you away from me?"
Now, for all that he was a self-proclaimed bastard, Halsey was
not blind or incapable of empathy. The man had raised a son and a daughter once before, and that stayed with someone.
"You worry too much." Halsey grunted, shaking his head. A rough hand was placed on Enterprise's shoulder, the carrier looking even
smaller than usual. "They'll have to tear me away from you."
"Admiral..." Enterprise went redder than her eyes, looking between the man's face and his hand.
For his part, Halsey just sighed. If one was being honest, which frankly he always was- lying was a pointless waste of time when brutal honesty worked much better -the man was
intenselyuncomfortable with this entire situation. He loved Enterprise like his own daughter when he had felt she was just a ship. A special one granted, but just a
ship. Now? Well, goddamn it, it wasn't that simple anymore.
Because Enterprise was now a little girl, looking small and out-of-place in that uniform of her's. A little girl who idolized him, and he would have to take into battle if Thompson and Richardson were right about the damn Japs.
So yes, he was uncomfortable. No shame in admitting that.
"Like hell I'd let someone else take you out to war, Enterprise." The Admiral continued speaking, squeezing the girl's slim shoulder lightly. "I wouldn't trust anyone with you, not now."
Now, Bull Halsey had expected Enterprise to react to that. She always did, acting every bit the age she
looked. Better than the age she
was, of course, since the carrier was barely four years old.
Regardless of that, he expected her to act like any kid her age would. Smile and blush, pulling away from him and shuffling her feet. It was how
his daughter would have acted. Hell, she had acted that way, when he threatened to hurt anyone who put a hand on her. Halsey could be quite scary, when the man was inclined to do so. And he genuinely expected that, as any girl would act, Enterprise would just smile up at him. It was proper conduct for a little lady.
So to say he was shocked when she, instead, jumped up and wrapped her arms around his broad torso?
Goddamn it. This again.
Would be an understatement.
"Thank you sir." Enterprise whispered against Halsey's chest. Hot tears wet
his uniform, as the little carrier cried against him. "
Thank you..."
Halsey sighed heavily at that, patting Enterprise's short blonde hair. The girl only burrowed deeper into her hug when he did so, giving no signs that she would let go anytime soon. Well. This wasn't a problem at
all.
"You're my girl, Enterprise. And I'll be damned before I let some kid take you out instead of me," Halsey's voice didn't change tone, though he didn't look at the girl as she said that. He let out another, almost imperceptible, sigh though. "In any case, I'll sooner fight to stay aboard you than give up. Never surrender. That's what I do."
Enterprise finally pulled back at that, looking up with tear-streaked red eyes, "You mean that?"
"Of course. I'm no
liar." The Admiral
didn't have his lips twitch up when Enterprise smiled brightly at him. No, not at all. "You're my girl, my carrier. And that means I'll fight for you. Sure James would do the same for Sara."
At that, the little blonde girl laughed, the sound like a chime in the wind. Heartfelt and musical, nothing like the tone of voice she
had been using. "Oh, that's very true Admiral! Aunt Sara wouldn't let him leave, even if he tried."
That was another thing Bull Halsey wasn't used to. Enterprise continued to refer to Lady Lex and Sister Sara as 'Aunt' Lex and Sara. Furthermore, she swore up and down that old Langely was her 'mother'. Strange as that was, it was even stranger that
Utah apparently acted as the mother figure for the
battleships. When Thompson had told him that, Halsey had stared at the man for long minutes. He got the feeling that the younger- almost absurdly young -Admiral had been worried at that.
This aside, thinking on that made the Admiral frown deeply again. He clenched a fist, looking down at his side. Utah.
"Someone needs to do something about Utah. Damn girl got us in this situation." Halsey's frown didn't deter Enterprise from hanging onto his torso, but it did make her wince.
There was where the problem was, wasn't it? Utah. Thompson had said it was likely that any girl who managed to inadvertently make contact would be very careful and make sure that their joint superior didn't find out until more evidence was around. Instead, Utah had managed to get her XO going straight to Admiral Richardson. And thus, the situation they found themselves in
now.
He was stuck aboard Enterprise, practically confined to his flagship until Richardson was satisfied that he, Thompson and Jackson weren't completely insane or having a mass hallucination. And it was down to Utah to convince him.
Wonderful. Just wonderful.
If there was anything Halsey hated more than being forced to sit in one place, it was relying on someone else.
"I'm sure Utah can figure it out," Enterprise tried to be positive, her smile remaining bright. The girl was
always positive, in some way. Perpetually cheerful that one. "She's smart, Admiral. I may not have been involved in all this as long..."
"Don't remind me. James should have known better than going behind everyone's back as long as he did." Halsey groused, though there was little
real bite to his words. Hell, if it hadn't been for Enterprise almost getting through to him
first, he would have been the first to call the younger man crazy.
"...but she got really close with people who didn't have any reason to think she was there. Or care about her." The young carrier pouted slightly at the tone Halsey had used, though she hardly let go of him. "If anyone can get through to Admiral Richardson, it's her."
Halsey just shook his head, pulling himself free. The warmth of Enterprise's hug faded away, the carrier looking up at him in confusion. The Admiral didn't return the look, instead looking out the porthole of his office. Oh, she may be willing to rely on Utah. But
he wasn't by any definition.
"I hate relying on Utah." The Admiral spoke, his voice low as he looked out the porthole. "I hate relying on anyone, in a situation like this. I would rather do what needs to be done myself."
That was a criminal understatement. Being forced to
wait and not be able to
do anything was grating on Halsey in a way few things did. He wanted to do
something. Sitting aboard Enterprise, cut-off from any actions, annoyed the
shit out of him. So, then, what could he do to fix that? He couldn't leave and march over to Utah. But on the other hand...
Maybe. It was a risk, but hell, Bull Halsey was the type of man to take a risk and dive head first into it if he thought it would work. Hell, even if it may not look like it would work to begin with.
"Enterprise." He turned around, voice shifting into a 'commanding' tone.
"Yes sir?" For her part, the carrier snapped to attention, her little shoulders straight and narrow.
Lips twitching despite himself, the Admiral walked up to his girl, "First, stop acting like that sailor. You are well aware I won't stand on protocol in this situation."
Enterprise flushed again, shifting slightly, but not dropping from her position.
"Second, it's time we got to work."
Even as he said that, Halsey saw Enterprise's eyes widen. The girl blinked up at him, confusion clear in her pose and expression. Honest confusion, as she clearly didn't know what he was talking about. In any other situation, he would have barked at her to focus...no matter how young she looked, she was a
United States Navy sailor, and he wouldn't let her fail at that.
But right now? No, he wouldn't push her.
"What do you mean, Admiral?" Enterprise warily asked, her voice just as filled with confusion as everything else.
Halsey just continued speaking in the same tone he had before, "We're going to get moving. If Utah can convince Admiral Richardson, good. If she
can't, I'll be damned if I don't find another way. You still have the connection with the other ships, correct?"
"Of course...?"
"Good," the older man's face twisted into a lopsided smile. A small one, but one nonetheless. "Which girls are the closest other than Utah?"
Snapping her heels together again, Enterprise started reciting names. Doing so in proper military style, her voice sounding as close to his own as she could probably manage. "California and si...Yorktown, of the capital ships. Honolulu and Drayton for cruiser's and destroyers."
A nod, "And how close
are they?"
Enterprise frowned slightly, deep in thought. Halsey waited for her to think, but if he didn't get an answer quickly...
"I think California is the closest, Admiral," Enterprise finally spoke up again. Her red eyes stared up at him, the disconcerting stare something that Halsey was
well used to by now. Strange as that may sound. "She's been talking with Admiral Thompson since the start."
"Then we'll start with her." Halsey nodded sharply, pointing at Enterprise's head. "Get her on the radio."
"Sir..." The carrier didn't do that, instead squaring her shoulders and staring up at Halsey. Her arms shook, but the carrier didn't turn her eyes. Enterprise continued to stare, no matter how uncomfortable she looked. "You're planning on having us make more breakthroughs."
It wasn't a question, so much as a statement. Enterprise didn't back down from said statement either, nor did she back down from her position. Halsey raised a single eyebrow at that, his rough features not revealing anything about what he felt.
Pride.
"Yes, I am. Is there a problem with that, sailor?" Instead, the Admiral turned an actual question back on his carrier.
Enterprise didn't flinch, though the shaking did grow slightly stronger, "Si...r. Yes sir. How do we know that Cali's Captain won't do the same as Commander Jackson? Or Honolulu's? Or Drayton's? Or even Fr..."
Halsey held a hand up, "Direct orders to tell their officers to gather proof before doing anything."
"What proof?" Enterprise countered, voice cracking slightly.
Good, she's asking questions. She's learning.
Not showing that on his face, Halsey scowled at the carrier, "The fact that more officers are seeing you girls for one. Second, that the more ways contact is made, the more evidence there is. Third, that if one of these girls figures out a way to contact more than one person, then it becomes much harder to brush away..."
The Admiral didn't list anything else, but the implication was clear. The more people involved, the harder it was to pass off as hallucinations or something of that nature. Moreover, the more people involved, the more minds thinking of ways to spread the situation. Every single person who saw one of the girls, was an advantage. Every single person provided a different viewpoint. Every...well, the point is clear.
And Enterprise seemed to understand that, her shoulders finally slumping down. The carrier gulped down a deep breath, her body shaking slightly. Sweat ran down her brow. But...she didn't back down. Despite everything.
"Sorr..." Enterprise began, voice soft as she looked up at her Admiral.
Halsey was having none of that, placing a hand on her shoulder, "No."
"Sir?"
Confusion was in the carrier's voice again, as she looked between the hand and the Admiral's gruff features. Features that twisted into an
ever so slight smile.
"You shouldn't apologize, and I know what you're trying to apologize
for," Halsey continued, his hand squeezing the girl's shoulder. "I welcome it when my decisions are questioned by someone who may know better, and you know the other girls far better than I ever will Enterprise. Goddamn, I mean, you've got a different perspective on any situation, so if you argue something I'm planning, it means I should listen."
Not that he would always take any advice of course. Halsey was far too
bullheaded for that.
"I'm proud that you actually stood up and argued your point. Don't lose that, no matter who commands you."
Giving Enterprise another soft squeeze, Halsey turned, and began gathering papers, the notes that he and Thompson had taken on convincing officers or sailors what they were seeing wasn't fake. Or how to get the girl's to breakthrough. Regardless, he needed to dig through these before trying to talk to California and the others. Better to be prepared, than charge in half-cocked. Even he knew that. Hell, Halsey knew it better than most, considering failing would mean losing Enterprise. Something he had no desire to do.
Especially as his sharp ears picked out a whisper behind him.
"Thank you...father..."
"Thank you, Sara."
Admiral Thompson smiled at the carrier, genuine thanks in his eyes as he worked through papers scattered across his bed. Sara flushed lightly at that, watching him do his work. Ever since the previous night, he had been...if not
okay, at least
better. She had never really noticed before, how ragged her Admiral was running himself. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his shockingly youthful- she had
known he was too young to be an Admiral, but it hadn't struck her before how young he was...a Captain jumped up in rank indeed -face was lined with stress. Thompson carried himself with a massive weight on his shoulders, bowing him down.
Sara felt horrible that she hadn't noticed that before. Yes, she wasn't used to telling how normal people felt. But...still. It was her job, first and foremost, to help her Admiral.
And she hadn't even realized he was working himself to the bone.
"Are you sure you're alright, Admiral?" The carrier asked, her soft voice carrying through the small room. She rubbed her hand over a lock of blue hair, nervousness present in her actions and voice.
"I'm tota..." Thompson trailed off, before sighing and standing up fully. He ran a hand through his own hair, turning to look at Sara. Weary green eyes were over a sardonic smile, the man shrugging slightly. "Well, I'm as fine as I'll ever be. I think being able to just...
talk...about what I'm going through helped a lot. Same with knowing you're there to help me, if I ever need it. You, Ari, Enterprise...even Utah."
"Or Captain Halsey," Sara pointed out, a hint of a smile ghosting across her face.
Thompson snorted softly, "Yes, and 'ole Bull Halsey. Though I think he's probably more cut out for this than I'll ever be, to be honest."
"You're good at your job though!" The carrier protested, almost reaching out to her Admiral. She didn't though, at a sad shake of his head.
"Maybe, maybe not. Still, I wouldn't get half as far as I have or hope to be, without having you and the others to help me. I see that better now."
Even as he said that, Thompson spun around, and returned to gathering his scattered papers. Sara held a hand to her heart while he did so, squeezing her white tunic slightly. Perhaps, he was better off than he had been. But that didn't do much to change the fact that her Admiral had...had clearly realized something. That he couldn't do everything on his own, yes. But he also had realized...
That he wasn't really ready for all the pressure on him. And that he couldn't possibly do it as well as, say, Captain Halsey.
He's wrong though. Anyone else would have broken at the pressure he's been under.
Sara walked forward at that thought, gently gripping her Admiral's arm. Thompson flinched slightly at the gesture, though he tried to hide it. Sara was having none of that, as she gently pulled him away from the papers. Green eyes met equally green ones, both carrier and Admiral staring at the other. At least, until the former gently squeezed Thompson's hand again.
"Don't go too far in the
other direction, Admiral." She gently chided him, voice soft and quiet.
"What do you mean?" Thompson was a terrible liar. Sara couldn't help a small smile at that...he always had
been a terrible liar, in the short time she had known him.
"You can't do everything on your own, yes. But that doesn't mean you should put yourself down." Sara shook her head, squeezing tighter. "Honestly, you've done more than anyone. Just because I think you should let us all help you, doesn't mean you should put yourself down. Right?"
She honestly worried that was what her Admiral was doing. He seemed to be acting worried again, with the way he grabbed the papers and avoided her eyes. That worried her, more than she wanted to admit. If he ended up going too far in the other direction, what good was their talk? They would just be back at square one again, and she didn't want to see him hurt...
"I'm glad you're worried about me Sara," Thompson spoke up, breaking the carrier from her morose thoughts. His voice was calm and collected, not a hint of stress or worry in it. In fact, as the carrier looked at him, she saw nothing but a small smile on his face. "But you're worrying about
nothing."
The carrier blinked slowly, confused tone to her voice, "What?"
In response, Thompson pulled her along, pointing out the papers he was grabbing. Each was marked with his neat scrawl, and each was about...
"Connecting with others?" She whispered, picking up one about Arizona.
The paper was marked with varying ideas about how to break through and talk to others, some marked out, some circled. But each and every one was well-thought out, and thorough. In point of fact, she didn't even recognize some of them. Ones made when Admiral Thompson was talking with Captain Halsey perhaps? But then, why wouldn't he have shown them to her? And why bring them out no...
Oh.
Oh.
Sara spun around, green eyes going wide. Thompson just smiled, scratching the back of his head with a small shrug.
"I know I messed up with Utah, and I want to make up for that
somehow. Figured the best way was to look through these old things, and see if I could find something to help her. Failing that, something to help the others. I know I have done more than I probably should on my own, but I can't just stop working. If this is the only thing I can do until and unless we convince Admiral Richardson?"
Here, Thompson finally cracked, his smile fading away. He squeezed his hand against his side, looking away from Sara and at the papers on his bed instead. The man sighed again, patting the bed with his free hand. Hooded eyes looked at the carrier, nothing but weariness in them.
"And, if nothing else, I want to at least make sure you girls have a sure-fire way to make contact. It's not much if I end up losing my position anyway, but it's..." Thompson trailed off, shrugging again.
"Oh..." Sara held a hand to her heart once more, shaking her head. "You don't need to worry about that. I won't
let them reassign you."
Thompson smiled, "Thanks for the support, but there's really nothing either of us can do here. Not unless we can convince Admiral Richardson. And you know what, even if I couldn't think of something on the spot, I want to
at least do something now."
She understood what her Admiral was saying. Sara really, truly, did. But she still worried he was looking at this the wrong way. He didn't owe anyone
anything. Yes, he had messed up with Utah. But that wasn't any reason to push himself to make up for it. He could do that just by
being here. Hell, Arizona would say the same thing, and part of her wished she could get the battleship to help knock some sense into her Admiral. But that wasn't an option.
So here she was. What could she even
say? Everything she could bring up, he would counter. She knew Admiral Thompson well enough to know that by now, and that was not a lie. So...what then?
"Sir, you don't have to..." Still, Sara at least tried, reaching out to the papers herself.
Admiral Thompson just grabbed her hand gently, shaking his head. Green eyes may have been ringed and tired, but there was a
fire behind them that hadn't been there before.
"No, I know what you're going to tell me Sara," the Admiral smiled wanly, his hand squeezing her own. "And I'm thankful for that, I really am. But this is something I have to do, and I hope you'll help me with it. Utah deserves the help, since she offered to do this on her own...and it isn't fair if I don't give her whatever I can to help. So..."
Letting go of her hand, Admiral Thompson reached down to pick up papers marked with Utah and Richardson's names. His smile strengthened slightly, as the time-traveler held them out to the aircraft carrier. Sara hesitatingly took them, part of her tempted to hide them away in her uniform. But she wouldn't. She
couldn't. Because this was her Admiral showing how much he
trusted her. Thompson knew she wanted nothing more than to take these, and keep him resting instead of working.
But he still handed them to her anyway.
I...I...I can't betray that trust. I care too much about him to do that. I'm...I'm sorry you have to do this Admiral. But if you want my help...
"I'll do what I can, sir," Sara forced a small smile, even though she still worried deeply over what her Admiral was doing.
But as he returned her smile, she at least knew one thing. They were working
together now, instead of him running himself ragged. And then, that was what mattered here, wasn't it?
Admiral Thompson seemed to think so, as he pulled her beside him on the bed to look over the papers, "Hopefully this is enough to get Utah what she needs..."
...deep inside USS
Utah, Admiral James Richardson frowned. His hand reached out, gently running over an old boiler. It came away covered in a fine layer of dirt, something that may have most Admirals wincing or trying to wipe it on a rag. Not Richardson. No, he frowned even deeper, turning to look at his only companion. Commander Jackson stood by another boiler, the man looking more than a little unhappy. And just as Richardson didn't act like most Admirals, it wasn't for the reason that most engineers would be unhappy with having a higher-ranked officer in 'their' space.
No, it was the face of a man unhappy with the condition his ship was in. The same look that crossed the Admiral's face.
"How long has it been, since she got these boilers?" Richardson asked, only now wiping his hand on a rag. He didn't recognize the boilers...it had been quite some time since he had been near one. But these did
not look up to date.
"'25," Jackson replied shortly, his gruff voice leaving no room for error. The man looked even
more unhappy in the low-light, if that were even possible. "There's been maintenance since, but that's about it. She hasn't had new boilers since then."
"1925," the Admiral repeated slowly, as he reached up to pull his glasses from his face. That was not what he had wanted to hear, perhaps, but it was something he had
expected to hear, nonetheless.
Utah was an old ship, one long past her prime. Even if she had still mounted her old guns. The Navy, strapped for money as it was, could hardly afford to go around fixing up what
worked when the ship in question was a target ship. Why bother, when ships like
Colorado would seem much more deserving? That said, looking through this engine room, he was reminded of...
Well.
This is quite like Delaware. If she were in this condition, I would have...
Admiral Richardson shook his head. It had been long decades, since he had been in the same position as Commander Jackson. As a fellow engineer, it was...uncomfortable. Looking at the deplorable condition of
Utah.
A ship for all intents and purposes, only moderately different from his old
Delaware.
"I see why you are having her refit," the Admiral turned to the Commander, replacing his glasses on his nose. "But, that does nothing to prove to me what you said is true."
Jackson grunted, shrugging broad shoulders, "That is something that I can't prove just by showing you what she looks like. Hell, I don't have a damn idea how
to convince you, if I can speak freely Admiral."
Richardson's lip twitched, "I believe you already were. Still, permission granted."
Unsurprisingly, Jackson didn't flush or act like he cared about the order, this man content in his position and having no interest in moving up in the ranks. As such, he didn't hold back when he said, "To be frank, nothing I say will convince you. That's on Utah. Anything
I say could be used to call me insane, spending too much time down here in the old girl."
It wasn't exactly possible to deny that. Despite the strangeness of this apparent hallucination impacting both of his best carrier commanders
and an completely unrelated Commander of a target ship...it was true what Jackson said. For all intents and purposes, words alone would never convince the Admiral. He was a shrewd man, and one whom didn't take kindly to liars. But, furthermore, he was also a
skeptical man.
Case in point, the fact that absolutely no argument made to him about basing in Pearl held any proverbial water.
He would require something a bit more...physical. Or spiritual, as the case may be. Understandable, considering just
what he was being asked to believe here.
"Admiral Thompson said that Utah herself would be trying to convince me. Should I assume 'she' is here?" Richardson's sharp eyes scanned the boiler room, looking for any sign of a woman. Not that he expected to see one, and in fact, didn't. There was...a
presence for lack of a better term, yes. But on that subject, it could just as easily be nostalgia for old
Delaware.
"She is," Jackson just nodded at a place by Richardson's shoulder. "Utah?"
"..."
Richardson frowned, rubbing his ear. He hadn't heard anything...a whisper of wind. In the middle of a boiler room. Deep inside a battleship.
Right.
The Admiral looked where Jackson had nodded, but even in the dim-lighting, there was nothing to see. Dirty boilers and floors, but no sign of a single woman. Again, he hadn't exactly expected much though, as he turned back to the other officer. Jackson seemed almost...disappointed. Or, at least, as disappointed as his scarred visage
let the man look.
"Well, I don't think he can hear you yet Utah. Any other ideas?" The man continued to speak to the boiler by Richardson's side, instead of the Admiral himself.
A situation that hardly helped his case, as it merely made the man look...unhinged. Not dangerous, but certainly not stable. If it were not for the trust that the Admiral held in both Halsey and Thompson, he would not even be trying this.
As it sat...
"I rather doubt anything will happen," Richardson spoke, holding his hand out and gesturing at the surrounding metal. "I will be the first to admit that any and all ships are unique.
Utah feels like
Delaware did, but not the same. However, that does not mean they are alive. The idea is..."
"Crazy, yes," Jackson nodded. His face actually bore a small smile, the man chuckling wearily. "If the situation were any different I would agree with you Admiral. But I know what I've seen and felt, and this is one-hundred percent real. Utah's more real than half the men on this ship."
A frown crossed Richardson's face at that, the Admiral narrowing his eyes behind his classes, "Very well then, prove it. I know I've said that already, however, I will not believe you until I see definitive proof."
In response, all Jackson did was turn his head and start speaking to the wall again, "Utah?"
However, instead of the tone his voice had held before, it held more
confusion than conviction. Richardson wondered at that, until...
Oh my God.
...until Jackson let out a surprised noise, raising
into the air. The Admiral shakily reached his hands up to his glasses, pulling them off again. He wiped them on the collar of his uniform, slowly and carefully. He did
not have shaking hands. Nor did his eyes widen. No, all Admiral Richardson did was clean his classes perfectly calmly, before replacing them on his nose. And promptly having the same sight greeting him. Commander Joseph Jackson, floating in midair. The man's arms were pressed against his side, and his eyes were wide.
And if Richardson were in his position, he would be much the same. No shame in admitting that.
"How...?" Still, the Admiral walked forward, turning in a circle around the floating Commander. There were no wires. He held a hand over the Commander, and confirmed that.
Nor where there any other ways he could be doing this. Floating like that was impossible, a magic trick that would never actually work.
"Utah is holding me in the air," Jackson sounded remarkably calm, for a man floating with no apparent support. "I hadn't realized she was this...you're as strong as your horsepower?"
The seeming non-sequitur had the engineer tensing up, and the Admiral frowning.
"Well, don't squeeze me." The gruff man continued, before turning his head to the Admiral. "I would suggest you try putting your hand where my arm is, Admiral."
Richardson, in any other circumstances, would not have done so. Whatever was holding Jackson in the air, was not something he wanted to tangle with. He was a cautious man by nature, and this was no different.
However. The Commander was perfectly calm, now that he was in the air. He wasn't struggling. Nor was he making any moves to escape whatever held him. There was no worry in his gruff, scarred features. The man simply...
Hung there, calm as could be.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. If this is what they said, then...
Well, cross that bridge when it came. Admiral Richardson placed a hand on Jackson's arm.
Or rather, attempted to. His hand stopped inches above the Commander's arm, touching something much softer and warmer than his uniform. Richardson's eyes
did widen now, and who could blame him? For where his hand lay, he could now...see. A woman's hand, soft and gentle, gripping the Commander tightly. The Admiral's eyes, behind his glasses, trailed down that hand, and a grey-clad arm attached to it. Further along that arm they went, coming upon the lithe form of a thin woman. Almost sickly looking, in fact...save for her face.
A face that Richardson's eyes trailed up, finally meeting strangely grey eyes staring right back at him. A youthful face...but one that held an age beyond her appearance. Her eyes were the eyes of someone who had far more age than any other part of her indicated.
Serious eyes, that crinkled at the corners, her lips forming a soft smile as she dropped Commander Jackson.
"You can see me, Admiral?" The woman asked, her voice equally as soft as her expression.
Admiral Richardson nodded slowly, "Yes. U...Utah, I presume?"
"Yes," the woman nodded, grey hair falling in front of her face with each jerk of her head. "I know it's hard to believe, but...USS Utah, BB...AG-16, reporting for duty Admiral."
The woman, Utah, snapped to attention, the look completely incongruous with the long dress and equally long hair hanging down her back. Richardson could only nod, his mind already racing with the implications of what he was seeing.
Was this woman
Utah? Perhaps. Regardless of if she truly was the old battleship, there was
no denying, at all, that this was a woman strong enough to lift an- admittedly stocky -man. A woman who had been invisible, until he touched her. A woman who, by all rights, should
not exist. No person could be invisible one moment, and the next, be visible. Man or woman.
This...this is something I will need to work on. The implications of this are...
So long reaching, not even the sharp Admiral James Richardson could predict what would happen, were this to become common knowledge.
