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Don't Shoot, We're Republican! - A Kantai Collection Quest

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[X]"How about you do your job Iowa and let me do mine?"
-[X]DD's are the tip of the spear. we're the head.
--[X]Iowa's the Flag, and has the largest armament. shes smack dab in the middle where all her 40 mike mikes and DP 5 inchers can do their job.
IE Iowa should be on the Left of Tulsa, Atlanta should be on the right of her with Independence, and Mahan swings up the rear while we take the lead.

This groups got two Caps, two light escorts and 1 heavy. With Iowa having the AA batteries she does, Atlanta needs to help cover Independence. While the two Tincans need to keep moving if they don't want to die while keeping their eyes open so the heavier guns know where to shot.
 
Fallenblades643 said:
[X]"How about you do your job Iowa and let me do mine?"
-[X]DD's are the tip of the spear. we're the head.
--[X]Iowa's the Flag, and has the largest armament. shes smack dab in the middle where all her 40 mike mikes and DP 5 inchers can do their job.
IE Iowa should be on the Left of Tulsa, Atlanta should be on the right of her with Independence, and Mahan swings up the rear while we take the lead.

This groups got two Caps, two light escorts and 1 heavy. With Iowa having the AA batteries she does, Atlanta needs to help cover Independence. While the two Tincans need to keep moving if they don't want to die while keeping their eyes open so the heavier guns know where to shot.
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Iowa is the only capital ship. Indy is a Light Carrier, though she retains the Cleveland class' agility and speed as well as a pretty decent AAA battery. Atlanta is a straight up monster when it comes to AAA, considering that's what she was designed for. Mahan and Fletchers both carried the 5"/38 DP gun so they too have really good throw weight. Fletcher's were stuffed to the gills with every 40mm bofors they could find and then some.

If there is one thing the USN did, it was AAA.
 
The Iowa has 4 more 5 inch guns then the Atlanta, 49 20mm guns to Atlanta's 6, and 80 40mm guns to Atlanta's 0.

Atlanta does have 16 1.1 inch guns that Iowa does not.

There is a reason Iowa and her sisters where called the best god damn carrier escort in the Pacific.


But yeah, right now Iowa is planning to break standard US fleet doctorine by being in the front rather then the middle.

Where her AA envelope covers everyone. While the DD's are suppose to use their mobility to dodge the early strikes and soften what heads to the heart of the formation.

Atlanta would be assigned to help cover Indy, who's AA is weakened by the flat top.
 
Erm... Iowa can't take the middle because that is where Tulsa is. Since apparently everybody forgot what the original plan was, here...

If possible, advise the Captain of Tulsa to go a wedge formation. Iowa at the tip of the spear with Mahan and Porter on the flanks. Atlanta will be on the flank that is likely to get penetrate, while Indy will be on the least likely. Tulsa will remain in the center.
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[X]"How about you do your job Iowa and let me do mine?"
-[X]DD's are the tip of the spear. we're the head.
--[X]Iowa's the Flag, and has the largest armament. shes smack dab in the middle where all her 40 mike mikes and DP 5 inchers can do their job.
IE Iowa should be on the Left of Tulsa, Atlanta should be on the right of her with Independence, and Mahan swings up the rear while we take the lead.
 
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Omake - "Vestal" [C]
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    • [X]"How about you do your job Iowa and let me do mine?"

    And here's a small humor piece I wrote, regarding Willie Dee

    William D. Porter limped along, trailing black smoke from her damaged rigging, occasionally extruding white puffs of steam from broken piping.
    This was ridiculous. Even Willie Dee couldn't believe it herself. Not the fact she got hurt as usual but how she had gotten hurt in the first place.
    When she sheepishly explained to the on-scene commander, the battleship USS Iowa, what exactly happened; the normally stoic battleship damn near burst a gut from laughing so hard.

    How embarrassing.

    Iowa, in middle of her giggling fit, had excused Willie Dee to the rear to get patched up.

    Willie Dee could only sigh in exasperation. She should've expected something absurd like this would happen, given her legendary misfortunes.
    Several hours ago, she'd gone out to investigate a contact she picked up on her radar while on picket duty during the pre-dawn hours and pre-emptively fired a torpedo at it, believing it to be a lone Abyssal.
    But alas, she blind-fired the thing without taking serious aim.
    The torpedo went wide and grazed the suspected Abyssmal, causing it to go in a dreaded circular run... right back at Willie Dee.

    Not only that, the "Abyssal" turned out to be a small rock outcropping sticking out of the ocean.
    In a panic, she turned tail and fled, only to realize the torpedo was gaining upon her; Willie Dee twisted around and started taking wild potshots at the wayward torpedo with her hand-held 5-inch cannon, only to have the torpedo launch into the air in a perfect parabolic arc... bearing down at her.

    Thankfully her rigging had absorbed the resulting impact, but however... the thing was a dud.
    Willie Dee had a live, but faulty torpedo sticking out of her rigging.

    The torpedo had severed several important steam feed piping's and fuel lines, something her onboard fairy damecon team couldn't readily repair, necessitating a visit to the doc.

    "Hey doc!" Willie Dee announced her arrival; a thrown wrench rudely greeted her, smacking into her face with a heavy, metallic thud.
    "Don't you fuckin' call me 'doc'! I'm a repair ship fer chrissake!" growled an older shipgirl... or rather shipwoman wearing dirty, oil-stained mechanic's overalls, with a heavy crane rising out of her rigging.
    "I don't cut you 'girls open and fondle your panacreas like them hospital shipgirl docs! I repair and patch the likes of you up with pieces of hot, jagged metal!" The shipwoman roughly lectured the destroyer with a harsh tone.
    "I's sowwy Veeestaaaalllll!" Willie Dee whimpered through her fingers, holding her sore face.

    The repair ship glared at the destroyer before sighing "What is it this time, brat?"
    Willie Dee simply turned around and showed her rigging with the dud torpedo sticking out.
    Vestal's crimsion eyes narrowed. "... Is that live?"
    Willie Dee nodded.

    Vestal squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose "How'd that even happen?"
    Willie Dee opened her mouth, only to get cut off by Vestal's raised hand, "Don't bother. I don't fuckin' care either way, you always bring me the tricky cases, brat."
    The repair ship ran a hand through her short, neck length, jet-black hair while sighing.
    Oh, how she'd give her left tit for a break from those crazy repair cases. Hell, she could use a break from her job entirely.
    Vestal absentmindedly reached for her chest pocket and pulled a stick of bauxite cigarette and stuck it in her mouth. Really, those things helped her think. She let the b-cig hang from her lips after lighting it with her trusty portable acetylene torch.

    "Okay, I got it. Don't you move an inch, brat, or I'll hot-rivet your ass cheeks together." Vestal grunted while pulling a massive pair of heavy-duty tongs from her tool belt.
    Willie Dee swallowed as she unconsciously clenched her butt at that threat while standing absolutely still.

    Vestal approached the destroyer while observing the faulty torpedo in silence for a long moment before clamping the tongs onto the torpedo and gave it several light wriggles and tugs before she yanked the thing out in a single swift motion.
    Damecon fairies then swarmed Vestal's crane rigging and lowered themselves into Willie Dee's damaged rigging, putting themselves right to work, patching and repairing damaged piping.

    "It's out, brat. You're okay." Vestal ground out, puffing aromatic clouds of bauxite smoke from her b-cig while flinging the erstwhile torpedo away, into the ocean depths.
    The destroyer turned and gave the repair ship a million-dollar smile "Thanks, doc!"
    Vestal sighed exasperatedly "I told you..."

    "Doc! It's Houston! She's got hit real good; she's leakin' oil everywhere!"
    Vestal spun around and flung the tongs at the newcomers "...I'M A FUCKIN' REPAIR SHIP, NOT 'DOC!'"

    I don't know of any depictions of Vestal. I had my version of Vestal channeling Dr. McCoy, somewhat, coupled with a mean streak, a hundred miles wide, plus given how the historical Vestal was pretty overworked, and yet pulled off tricky repairs.
     
    Last edited:
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    • M90A4 said:
    [X]"How about you do your job Iowa and let me do mine?"

    And here's a small humor piece I wrote, regarding Willie Dee

    William D. Porter limped along, trailing black smoke from her damaged rigging, occasionally extruding white puffs of steam from broken piping.
    This was ridiculous. Even Willie Dee couldn't believe it herself. Not the fact she got hurt as usual but how she had gotten hurt in the first place.
    When she sheepishly explained to the on-scene commander, the battleship USS Iowa, what exactly happened; the normally stoic battleship damn near burst a gut from laughing so hard.

    How embarrassing.

    Iowa, in middle of her giggling fit, had excused Willie Dee to the rear to get patched up.

    Willie Dee could only sigh in exasperation. She should've expected something absurd like this would happen, given her legendary misfortunes.
    Several hours ago, she'd gone out to investigate a contact she picked up on her radar while on picket duty during the pre-dawn hours and pre-emptively fired a torpedo at it, believing it to be a lone Abyssal.
    But alas, she blind-fired the thing without taking serious aim.
    The torpedo went wide and grazed the suspected Abyssmal, causing it to go in a dreaded circular run... right back at Willie Dee.

    Not only that, the "Abyssal" turned out to be a small rock outcropping sticking out of the ocean.
    In a panic, she turned tail and fled, only to realize the torpedo was gaining upon her; Willie Dee twisted around and started taking wild potshots at the wayward torpedo with her hand-held 5-inch cannon, only to have the torpedo launch into the air in a perfect parabolic arc... bearing down at her.

    Thankfully her rigging had absorbed the resulting impact, but however... the thing was a dud.
    Willie Dee had a live, but faulty torpedo sticking out of her rigging.

    The torpedo had severed several important steam feed piping's and fuel lines, something her onboard fairy damecon team couldn't readily repair, necessitating a visit to the doc.

    "Hey doc!" Willie Dee announced her arrival; a thrown wrench rudely greeted her, smacking into her face with a heavy, metallic thud.
    "Don't you fuckin' call me 'doc'! I'm a repair ship fer chrissake!" growled an older shipgirl... or rather shipwoman wearing dirty, oil-stained mechanic's overalls, with a heavy crane rising out of her rigging.
    "I don't cut you 'girls open and fondle your panacreas like them hospital shipgirl docs! I repair and patch the likes of you up with pieces of hot, jagged metal!" The shipwoman roughly lectured the destroyer with a harsh tone.
    "I's sowwy Veeestaaaalllll!" Willie Dee whimpered through her fingers, holding her sore face.

    The repair ship glared at the destroyer before sighing "What is it this time, brat?"
    Willie Dee simply turned around and showed her rigging with the dud torpedo sticking out.
    Vestal's crimsion eyes narrowed. "... Is that live?"
    Willie Dee nodded.

    Vestal squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose "How'd that even happen?"
    Willie Dee opened her mouth, only to get cut off by Vestal's raised hand, "Don't bother. I don't fuckin' care either way, you always bring me the tricky cases, brat."
    The repair ship ran a hand through her short, neck length, jet-black hair while sighing.
    Oh, how she'd give her left tit for a break from those crazy repair cases. Hell, she could use a break from her job entirely.
    Vestal absentmindedly reached for her chest pocket and pulled a stick of bauxite cigarette and stuck it in her mouth. Really, those things helped her think. She let the b-cig hang from her lips after lighting it with her trusty portable acetylene torch.

    "Okay, I got it. Don't you move an inch, brat, or I'll hot-rivet your ass cheeks together." Vestal grunted while pulling a massive pair of heavy-duty tongs from her tool belt.
    Willie Dee swallowed as she unconsciously clenched her butt at that threat while standing absolutely still.

    Vestal approached the destroyer while observing the faulty torpedo in silence for a long moment before clamping the tongs onto the torpedo and gave it several light wriggles and tugs before she yanked the thing out in a single swift motion.
    Damecon fairies then swarmed Vestal's crane rigging and lowered themselves into Willie Dee's damaged rigging, putting themselves right to work, patching and repairing damaged piping.

    "It's out, brat. You're okay." Vestal ground out, puffing aromatic clouds of bauxite smoke from her b-cig while flinging the erstwhile torpedo away, into the ocean depths.
    The destroyer turned and gave the repair ship a million-dollar smile "Thanks, doc!"
    Vestal sighed exasperatedly "I told you..."

    "Doc! It's Houston! She's got hit real good; she's leakin' oil everywhere!"
    Vestal spun around and flung the tongs at the newcomers "...I'M A FUCKIN' REPAIR SHIP, NOT 'DOC!'"

    I don't know of any depictions of Vestal. I had my version of Vestal channeling Dr. McCoy, somewhat, coupled with a mean streak, a hundred miles wide, plus given how the historical Vestal was pretty overworked, and yet pulled off tricky repairs.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    CANON!
     
    You know, the funniest thing about Willie Wee's luck is that as bad as it seemed, she's actually the ship whose crew turned out mostly fine and is actually a pretty kickass before she kicked it herself (and even then, somehow her crew managed to escape with no injury). Like, man, it's like she has a min-maxed luck that conserves her luck except for the most serious case. It's like she has a great luck conservation system or something.
     
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