[X] Your Friends.
You admit that your "life", at least a living, breathing, thinking entity, has been short. Being able to make decisions, to love, to hate, to cry and hope... you don't have much experience with it.
Your crew did. You learned how to be Human from your crew. They laughed, they played, they worked, they fought. Their energy and dreams, their hopes and fears, all of it throughout your service history culminated in the soul that makes up the Shipgirl William D. Porter.
You have not lived for long, but of one thing you're certain.
Friends are important. Friends are precious. You love your friends with all your heart.
Mahan.
Wo.
Yamato.
...
That's really about it, but you guess everyone else in the Fleet can be called friends, somewhat.
Regardless, you treasure the bonds you've made over your short life, and you would do anything to protect those you hold close to you.
You are a warship, a construct designed to shield Humanity from the ravages of war, while simultaneously inflicting said ravages on Humanity itself.
But right now, as a protector of Humanity, you can't help but think one thing...
That the ones you call friends matter so, so much more to you than the Humans you defend.
It's a treasonous thought. A blasphemous one.
But you suppose it's like they say. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
Humanity may have given you shape, but those who you treasured, and who treasured you in return, gave you
purpose.
And it is that which drives you to do this. To sail right into the heart of the beast with a bomb that is likely to end you as your enemies.
Because you don't want a world which would make your friends cry.
The ocean around you practically boils as shell after shell impacts the water, throwing up titanic plumes of white mixed with oil and blood. Your turbines scream as you push forward, the thunder of cannons echoing around you as you all push forward.
Never before has any Shipgirl gone so deep into Abyssal territory. There was no need.
But this is too good a chance to give up. Too much opportunity.
The risk equals the reward, and so the fleet steams forward.
You see Iowa take a hit to her armor belt, the battleship shrieking in pain as you see parts of her rigging explode off of her. She returns fire, but she slows, falling out of the lead position as her escorts break off the main group to help stave off the Abyssal onslaught.
Nagato takes her place.
She opens fire as well, her guns rumbling as your own staccato fire accompanies hers.
This is Hell. There is no other way to describe it.
The air itself is thick, with an almost tangible consistency. Smoke, fire, and you're beginning to smell what seems like burning flesh.
Far ahead, the black clouds swirl, blocking out the sun and sky, lightning lancing down to the waves. At the edges of the water, far in the distance, a million darting lights from Abyssal eyes dance as flashes of their cannon fire light up the oppressive shadows that threaten to block out all life.
It won't be enough to stop you.
"Wo!" you shout to your pseudo-Abyssal friend, "Clear a path, launch bombers!"
"Yes, Flagship," Wo replies resolutely as her rigging shrieks into place, "Launching bombers."
B-25 after B-25 is thrown from her, their cockpits an unnatural shining blue as they leave trails of azure in the sky, racing outwards towards the Abyssals clustered around the distant portal in one massive wave. Before long you see the flashes of bombs and the constant chattering of machine guns as they encounter their prey.
"Engage the survivors!" Yamato orders quickly as the Abyssals begin to fall to the mockery of the Dolittle Raid, "Porter, your path is open, go!"
With a nod, you push your turbines to the limit, surging forward with Wo hot on your tail as the fleet disperses to tie up any possible obstacle in your path. None remain to hamper you.
The portal is massive. A whirlpool in which the core is filled with lightning, repeatedly striking down from the sky. You can see the lights of Abyssals deep within, struggling to be free.
"Here we go!" you grab the bomb, thumbing the timer. It begins beeping, "Eat this, you big-!"
And as you prepare to throw it, it suddenly expands. The edge stretching out past you and Wo... and you start to fall in.
"Flagship!" Wo screams in terror, reaching out for you before the torrential currents founder her, her hull dragged to the center and immediately pulled under.
"Wo!" your own cry of desperation and horror echoing after your lost friend, even as your own turbines and screws howl against the maelstrom that threatens to pull you to a similar fate. You will overcome this, you have to!
But you're only a Destroyer. And before the storm you are nothing.
The water overtakes your deck as you roll, all control lost as you topple end over end, your vision clearing periodically to see the center getting closer and closer.
At least you have the bomb.
And you'll take this thing with you!
............
.................
It's so dark.
Dark, and cold.
You can't see anything but this emptiness as you look around. Is there anybody here? What is this place?
Did you sink?
Then you lay eyes upon her.
She's graceful, with a white dress uniform. The flag of the United States of America emblazoned on her rigging, with a full flight deck.
She gives you a kind smile.
....
Hornet?
Wo?
"Hello... 'flagship'," she smiles as you walk up to her. She ruffles your hair, much to your consternation.
"I never thought that I'd come to call such a small little ship as you my Flagship, but it was fun, wasn't it?" she giggles as you pout at her.
It's a few seconds before you respond, "Yeah. It was."
With that out of the way, you continue, "So, where are we? Is this the source of the Abyssals?"
"...Yes," Hornet replies with a sad smile, "It is."
You glance around at the endless black, "Not much to see."
"Oh no, Flagship," she shakes her head, "There is, but your mind is closed to it."
"I don't understand," you stare at her, not comprehending, "What's there to close my mind to? There's literally nothing to see!"
"Abyssals come from this place, yes, but you have to understand what this place is," Hornet holds out her hands, "Let me show you, Porter."
You stare at the offered hand. This could be a trap. If you accept, there's no telling what could happen.
But... you trust her. So you do.
And instantly everything around you turns to hell.
A different kind than the one you were just in. This one is on fire. Wooden buildings, as far as the eye can see, ablaze as the people inside and out scream in pain and terror.
"What is this, Hornet?" you try to pull away on instinct, "Where are we?!"
"Tokyo," she answers solemnly, "A long time ago... but this is not the only source."
Then you're on a beach. The constant stuttering of machine guns and the booming of artillery. Small metal structures, like spiky balls litter the sands. They wouldn't look out of place in an art museum, but here you can tell what they really are.
And you know where this is. You weren't there personally, but the girls in the fleet loved to talk about the good old days....
"Normandy," you stare out as wave after wave of young men charge up the beach, only to be cut down by merciless machine gun fire, "This is Normandy."
"And not just Normandy, as you can see," Hornet whispers as the scenery changes, location after location whipping by.
London on fire. Luftwaffe bombers fill the sky.
Berlin is aflame, Allied planes drop their payloads.
The streets of Saigon, as tanks flanked by South Vietnamese and American soldiers do battle with Northern infiltrators.
A city burns in the Middle East. A jet swoops by overhead and a missile lances out from its underbelly to strike a building, bringing it down in a cloud of smoke and fire.
A US soldier uses his flamethrower to clear out a bunker in Iwo Jima, the soldiers inside scream from the flames.
Pearl Harbor. The Arizona explodes as Japanese dive bombers pull away from their doomed target.
Hiroshima. The streets are filled with people as a sole plane flies above. A single speck falls from it.
"So what you're saying Hornet, is that what Abyssals come from..." you look back to your friend as the bomb detonates, scouring the city of life as person and structure alike are incinerated, "is war itself?"
"That's not what I'm saying," Hornet replies sadly as the world burns around the two of you, "That's what Humanity is saying. Humans believe that war will destroy them, and yet at the same time they can't help but wage it. The Abyssals are simply that fear given shape."
"But... if you were an Abyssal, but were Hornet all along..." you hold onto her hands tightly, "Then what are we? What am
I?"
"Shipgirls are... like the opposite side of the coin," Hornet answers softly, returning your grip with equal warmth and firmness, "Where Abyssals are the war that will destroy mankind, Shipgirls are the war that will save them. Violence begets violence, but Shipgirls are the belief that death and suffering can be fought and, eventually conquered. The true war to end all wars."
"So... Abyssals are invincible, then?" the sheer weight of your task bears down on you, "If they're just a feeling, just a fear, how can we possibly beat that?"
Hornet shakes her head, "No, Porter. The Abyssals may be the embodiment of that fear, but this place is what gives them form. I don't know how it came to be, or why, but it is a place that can be destroyed. It's the nexus of their energy and being. If you destroy it, they will vanish too."
You feel the bomb at your side. You hold it up. Hornet looks down at it sadly as it beeps, counting down to the end.
"But as I said, two sides of the same coin. If you destroy the Abyssals, you destroy the Shipgirls."
You freeze at that.
...
What?
That can't be true... right?
"But we don't come from here!" you protest, the hands holding the bomb shaking, "If I destroy the Shipgirls, this fear, then-!"
"Then there's no need for hope," Hornet finishes somberly, "We will have accomplished our duty. And we will vanish."
"...Why," tears fall unbidden down your cheeks, "Why couldn't you tell me this before? Why are you making me decide?"
"Because, Porter," Hornet smiles helplessly, "I didn't remember."
If you do this, you save Humanity.
But they'll all vanish.
Hornet.
Mahan.
Yamato.
...
You.
"I..." you stare down at the bomb, shaking, "I never wanted this. To go out in some self-sacrificial blaze of glory. It sucks."
Hornet just holds you close. You can feel her warmth against the cold around you, the cold death and struggle that encompasses mankind.
If it was just you, maybe. If it was just you who would die, you'd be fine with that.
But as you halt the timer, one thought crosses your mind.
You can't sacrifice your friends for this.
"So what now, Hornet?" you let the bomb fall to the side, "What do I do now?"
"Now?" she smiles as her rigging slowly moves back into place, "Isn't it obvious, Porter? The fight continues."
"But how can I fight if all that waits for me in victory is oblivion?" you stare at Hornet as she readies herself for combat once more.
"Now who said that, Porter?" the Carrier grins encouragingly, "I just said that you couldn't destroy fear... but there's nothing wrong with conquering it."
"Conquering fear..." you stare down at your deck gun, now armed with the knowledge that it is literally hope given form, "You mean-?"
"I do, Porter," a flight of B-25s ready themselves atop her flight deck, "Something that is destroyed ceases to exist, but if we conquer it, it exists to do with as we please."
You stare incredulously at Hornet even as the cold around you begins to close in, a tension in the air. Then a chuckle escapes you.
Conquering fear, huh? You raise your deck gun in response.
Yeah, you can get behind that.
"Prepare yourself, Flagship," Hornet announces as the void shifts before you, arraying the destructive forces of mankind against you. Warships, tanks, soldiers, missiles, cavalry, swords, and fire. All opposed to the existence of mankind, and the two of you as the hope to oppose it.
"The true war begins here."
William D. Porter, DD-579, never returned from Operation Bridge Burning.
Her last will and testament gifted what little possessions she had to one "Wo", an Abyssal that had been turned to Humanity's cause.
As Wo never returned from the same operation, said possessions were instead given to her closest living friend, Mahan, to do with as she pleased.
Mahan kept some of those items as keepsakes for the rest of her service.
While Operation Bridge Burning didn't achieve the results it had hoped for, the fact remained that the number of Abyssals in the oceans drastically dropped immediately after the events of said operation. Within a number of years the oceans were secured for the most part, and at the end of the decade, the Abyssals vanished entirely.
Almost as if drawn elsewhere. Like their focus had been shifted to a place beyond the material world.
The Shipgirls of the world were slowly, one by one, retired. Although apparently immortal, they vanished into various careers with the general civilian populace.
Yamato became a diplomat for the Japanese government.
Nagato joined advocate groups for the nuclear disarmament of the world's nations.
Iowa became an artist, never again picking up a weapon.
Independence became a flight instructor at a university on the West Coast.
Kongou entered the music industry, forming a band with her sisters.
Naka continued her idol work, consistently ranking in the low double-digits.
And Mahan... she moved to the Pacific Northwest, buying a little seaside cabin where she expected to live out the rest of her endless days. On her bedside table was a single framed picture of herself and a good friend from their day in Tokyo. A comrade she had lost long ago.
And at the turn of the century, as the world entered a new age of hopeful peace, Mahan sat on her porch, eyes closed as the sun set in the watery horizon. She had lived a long time, but her body didn't reflect the passage. It never did. Like all Shipgirls, it seemed that she was fated to live forever.
She had always assumed that she would die someday, but it seemed that wasn't to be the case. Not even in combat.
Still, though, she valued her well being, so when someone strode onto her property loud and unannounced, she instantly summoned her own deck gun, leveling it at the intruder... and paused, greeted by a face she had never thought to see again.
"Hey, hey," the old friend laughed nervously with hands raised even as a somewhat familiar Carrier moved to shield the smaller Destroyer, "Don't shoot, okay?"
"We're Republican."
FIN
Note: And that's the end. It's been a somewhat wild ride, as the tone shifted wildly from one spectrum to the next. Overall, the scope of this little adventure was a bit smaller than I had originally intended, but I'm still happy with how I ended things. Could I have made the substance of the quest better? Perhaps, yeah, but when I lost the drive for Don't Shoot, I thought it better to end it properly rather than abandon it outright. Willy D. deserved an ending.
So, it's over. Willy D gets her Happily Ever After. This frees me up to tackle my other projects, but I hope that this ending was enjoyable. See you guys around.
