Crimson Aria (Arpeggio of Blue Steel)

Snip 5
have a snip!

---

Richardson felt his eyebrow twitch as the Mental Model of the Wichita summarized her feelings on his predicament.

"You're an idiot!" she managed between her guffaws. "You're a complete moron!" a few nearby gulls that had perched on the ships superstructure took wing as her latest bout of laughter rang through the air.

"Thank you for sympathy, Wichita..." Richardson sighed. Part of him realized that this was all very strange, given that he was having a conversation with his second Mental Model of the day. For supposed enemies of mankind, they had been quite friendly so far. He hadn't been locked up, threatened, or summarily executed - or even interrogated, really. His mind drifted back to the conversation he had with Augusta. None of that had counted as treason, had it?

With nowhere and no way to run, all he could really do was try and learn as much as he could. He'd only met two so far, but neither Augusta or Wichita had been as genocidal as one would expect from a race that had been waging unrestricted naval warfare against human beings for decades. Two subjects wasn't much of a sample pool though. "So, now what?"

After a moment, Wichita managed to recover from her laughing fit. "Now? Now we rendezvous with the rest of the Task Force and get Augusta patched up." Wichita glanced back toward the hatch they had taken the other Mental Model through, worry evident on her face.

"She'll be fine, alright?" Richardson asked. "I mean, she didn't take any direct damage, did she?"

Wichita simply shook her head. "Her Mental Model didn't take any damage, but she did - the ship is her. Its not like she just remotely controls the hull. Its not even an extension of her self. It IS her self."

"The damage can be fixed, right?" He was sure it could be - Augusta hadn't seemed worried about it when she was in the middle of the fight. Then again, she was in the middle of a fight and likely more worried about just living.

"The physical damage?" Wichita turned to look at Richardson, her expression suddenly somber. "But the mental effects? who knows. Getting chunks torn out of you like that is never fun, no matter how many times it happens..."

"PTSD?" Richardson suddenly thought out loud. Wichita gave him a quizzical look, so he elaborated. "Post Traumatic Stress disorder. Humans get it after, well, traumatic experiences. Its...complicated." And not something he was remotely qualified to talk about. "But, its basically what you said - mental effects from trauma." Nothing in the research before this had indicated that such a thing was possible - at most, the common theory suggested they were just emulating human behavior without actually understanding it. Richardson's problem with that theory was that it ignored why they would bother.

"Well," Wichita stood and stretched, looking over at her own ship as it cruised along side the Augusta before turning back to Richardson. "As fascinating as that sounds, it looks like it will have to wait."

Richardson blinked. "Why?"

"Because we're here." he pointed ahead of them, where the form of a smaller vessel could be seen approaching. Wichita grinned as she greeted the new arrival. "Hey, Porter - Dakota got you on sentry duty again? You didn't break anything agaiin, did you?"

"I didn't!" The two ships had closed with the usual surprising speed of the fog fleet, giving Richardson a clear view of the vessel. It was a Flecher Class - at least, it looked like one - but the most unusual thing was the young girl standing on its prow. "It has a Mental Model? How'd a destroyer get one?"

"Not sure." Wichita replied with a shrug. "We figure its mostly just a fluke. Considering her luck though, its not surprising."

"Her..." Richardson suddenly realized which Flecher class it was. "You gotta be kidding me - that's the William D. Porter?"

"Yeah, why?" Wichita asked. "Heard of her?"

"In her past life," Richardson replied before turning to study the small Mental Model. She looked like a young girl, not unlike the Model's they had observed on larger submarines. She fidgeted with a brown pigtail under his stare, obviously uncomfortable with such scrutiny. Richardson grinned. "Don't shoot!" He shouted. "I'm a Republican!"

Porter, for her part, stared at him in surprise for only a moment before launching into an ineffective, if amusing, tirade. "Waah! Stop teasing me! That's not funny! Why do-" She was cut off as she managed to trip mid-sentence, landing flat on her face. "...ow." She pulled her self up, drawing her legs under herself as one hand rubbed at her nose, as she looked up at the larger vessel. "Who are you?"

"Intelligence Specialist Third Class James Richardson, United States Navy." Richardson provided with a bow. "Human."

"...Waah!" Porter suddenly turned tail, scrambling across the deck before ducking into the nearest open hatch.

Richardson blinked. "What just happened?"

"Porter's a little shy." Wichita provided in lieu of an actual explanation. "She'll lead us to the meet-up point." Sure enough, The Destroyer was beginning to turn around, and soon the three ships were on their way. "The rest of the gang should be a little more chatty." Wichita paused. "Maybe."

They didn't meet another ship until they finally came to a stop, they were in what looked like an otherwise unremarkable stretch of ocean, save for a hint of green on the horizon to the North. Richardson squinted as he studied the distant landmass. "What island is that?"

"Bermuda." Richardson spun around, facing towards the Cruiser that had been waiting for them. A pair of slender legs made their way down a ladder well, Clad along with their owner in a dark skirt suit. Dark Blue eyes looked him over from behind half-moon spectacles. Black hair done up in a severe bun completed the image of the stern school teacher. "One of the last human colonies in the Atlantic to be successfully evacuated." She gave a small grin as she reached the deck. "You left it nicely deserted."

"You made supplying it a bit problematic."

Her grin grew wider. "That we did."

"How's it going Quincy?" Wichita greeted the fellow cruiser. "Enjoy your little trip south?"

Quincy sighed. "Hardly," She glanced toward Wichita. "Might I ask who our guest is?"

"Some human Augusta found in a rowboat." Quincy's eyebrow arched at that. "Guess she wanted a souvenir."

Quincy studied Richardson for a moment before giving a small huff. "A Petty Officer - Augusta couldn't even kidnap a real officer?"

"Real officers don't row out in dingies!" Wichita exclaimed, thumping Richardson on the back. "This guy is either really brave, or really, really stupid."

"Or both." Quincy mused as she turned and started across her ship. "You're in luck - Dakota hasn't shown up yet."

"Fashionably late, as usual." Wichita said with a sigh. "Why does she always..." She was cut off as a massive hull breached the surface, its hull towering over them before crashing back down, sending waves crashing over the hulls of the waiting vessels. Three massive guns sat in their turret as they seemed to point straight at Richardson. For a brief moment, everything went silent, save for the slow drip of water of the hull of the Battleship that had appeared before them.

A soft clank, the sound of a shoe on deck-plating, echoed as a lone figure made her way across the deck. Silver hair spilled down to her shoulders, Grey eyes sweeping over those gathered before her. The long black dress she wore only accentuated her form, even under the cover of her fur-lined coat. Her entire demeanor was poised and grateful, like an aristocrat - or a predator.

"So," her voice rang, "We have a human in our midst. Why is he still breathing?"
 
guys lets quiet down - no need to add MORE posts that are not updates just to get mad at the Necro. Next time bury him in PMs.

Though Dragontrapper will likely be happy he managed to cause people to get angry when they got false hope of an update. :p
 
horus said:
1. learn to spell.
2. BURN IN HELL FOREVER
Calm down.

Stop flaming in response to a necro.

Stop posting additional posts.

Notice that others have already commented and rendered your post unnecessary.

Please say where the quote comes from-it looks interesting and I'd like to read it.

NVM-found it.
 
Snip 6
not as long as I would like, but what can you do? Next one should be longer hopefully (and is it bad that your reactions to a necro make me happy?)

-----

Everything Richardson had said about not feeling threatened? Yeah - he took that all back.

The mental model of the Battleship South Dakota glared down at him, and he had to repress a shiver. She half reminded him of a siren - luring sailors near with her beauty, only to ruthlessly kill them. Richardson didn't think Dakota was likely to bother with the 'luring' part. Ryder would've still dated her.

"My guess?" Wichita spoke up from where she was relaxing against part of the superstructure. "Augusta think's we can get some information out of him - he's been chatty enough."

"About nothing of consequence, I have no doubt." Dakota mused, her gaze never leaving Richardson. "So, tell me human - why should you live?"

"Oh, come on Dakota." Wichita rose from her spot and started walking toward where Richardson was still standing, "I know you have problems with..."

"What I have problems with are none of your concern." Dakota cut the cruiser off. "What should concern you is a potential threat."

"Do you mean me or those Destroyers with the fancy canon?" Battleship and cruiser alike turned at Richardson's sudden words. It had been the first question to pop into his head, and now the thought had found its escape. "Because I think you would be more worried about traitors with energy weapons then the guy from a row boat."

Dakota narrowed her eyes at him briefly before her gaze suddenly went glassy. It was only for a moment, but once it passed, her scowl had been replaced with a combination of anger and surprise. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You, quite literally, know more then I do." Part of his mind pointed out that being a smart-ass was likely to end painfully, but the adrenaline pumping through his system at the moment was making normal thought difficult. "But it looked like somebody wanted one of your subordinates killed. Which I think is kind of strange, but so is the idea of a Task Force like this being formed instead of them...I don't know, reprogramming you or something."

"For somebody who claims to be uninformed, you seem very well informed." Dakota quipped. "But their existence does not mean your survival, so the question of why you should live remains."

"Because I would be dead if it wasn't for him." This time, all three of them turned toward the voice, Wichita being quick to run over to Augusta's side as she staggered onto the deck. The cruiser simply waved away her friends aide, steadying herself before she spoke again. "You recall why we took these forms, don't you? He-" She pointed to Richardson. "-has been thinking like this for a lot longer then we have. Call it human intuition, call it differences in trains of logic. Either way, he thinks more like how we want to think. Besides, talking to Wichita all the time gets boring."

The Battleship considered the cruiser for a moment before turning her back and striding off. "Very well, but he is your responsibility. Now get yourself patched up - You're a mess."

Wichita waited until she was well out of earshot before blowing a raspberry in her direction. "bitch."

Richardson, meanwhile, was getting accustomed to still breathing. "How did she already know all of..."

"Tactical Net." Augusta provided as Wichita helped her sit down. "A Battleship like her can be hooked into it almost constantly. She likely knew about the attack as soon as it happened."

"So she can hear us right now?" Richardson glanced back toward the Battleship that was now pulling away.

"Could she?" Wichita replied. "Yeah. Is she? not likely. Our 'petty little conversations' are beneath her. I'm surprised she even spoke - probably for your sake. She used to be less of a bitch."

"What happened?" Richardson asked.

"Oh no." Wichita shook her head. "Not even going to think about talking about that subject. She's got more flags on that little story then she does about fleet doctrine. I wouldn't make it back to my own hull intact."

"She went ashore once." Wichita's head spun around to gape as Augusta started to speak. "Just once. Whatever happened got her reassigned to flagship of the task force. The 'bitchiness' as Wichita would put it, is a more recent change from a formerly more melancholic demeanor."

"So, she's gone from mopey to angry?" Richardson summarized. "Awesome - I get to deal with the Fog Fleets Psyche ward."

Augusta shot him a sharp glare while Wichita gave a soft chuckle. "Well, we're all here for reasons - Porter and her accidents, Augusta and her 'research'," Wichita shrugged. "Even I have my vices. And then there's you, mister 'go-out-in-a-rowboat' - you should fit in just fine. If we're crazy, you're our kind of crazy."

"Thank you," Richardson sighed and slumped down next to her. "You have no idea how comforting that is, really." The snort Wichita gave in reply seemed to indicate that his meaning got through properly. He was about to issue another (hopefully) witty remark, when he was cut off by a low grumble from his stomach. Sheepishly, he turned to the cruiser. "you wouldn't happen to have anything to eat around here, would you?"
 
this will end in violations of fishery treaties ... namely using high energy weapons to hunt fish...


OR shore leave :p


Also I think South Dakota fell for a human... and then they bolted when she told him what she was.
 
ILurkNoMoar said:
Not everyone would take the revelation that their girlfriend is one of humanities greatest enemies very well, it could have been even worse if one of said lover's family was in the navy and killed during The Great Battle.
Indeed. I'm just saying its a possibility. Not rendering judgment on the poor sod that fell for her in the first place.

Of course if Haruna is anything to go by. They did not feel at all about those they killed in The Great Battle so you have an emotional disconnect for them between now and then. So it be an interesting avenue to go down. Which may be why she's so bitchy.

She's the series Tsundere and right now she's full tilt Tsun over mankind :p and its the type thats likely to KILL you in Tsun mode.
 
ILurkNoMoar said:
SoDac, a tsundere? No, I think she's more like Kongou after she found out that Maya was just an illusion. She put her faith in someone and opened her heart only to be rejected in return, if this is the case then her bitchiness is somewhat justified.

This is of course assuming our speculations are correct.
Well IIRC in the manga (which seems to be the basis for this fic) Maya is not an illusion.... but I see your point.
 
There's also the possibility of a rather violent reaction of a potential lover rejecting SoDak- or someone elses violent reaction to the idea of a MM and a human forming a relationship, along the lines of both of them should die- except killing a human is much easier than a MM.
 
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