Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
In Harm's Way
- Thread starter Breakaway25
- Start date
Christmas Special
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Have some Christmas Fluff
Dark clouds covered the sky, and a thick layer of snow blanketed the ground. Winter had descended on the island with a vengeance. For many, it was simply another inconvenience. The war was taking a heavy toll on everyone. Despite everything that had happened over the last few months, there was evidence of the coming holidays everywhere. People probably just wanted something to celebrate. Something to take their minds off the war that was gripping the world.
Decorations littered the Navy Base, and everyone seemed to be getting into the holiday spirit. From the giant tree just outside the headquarters building, to the lights draped over the ships tied up in the harbour, it wasn't hard to find evidence of the season.
The houses in the officer's housing district were also decorated, each in their own way. Some of the occupants had decided to go all out for the season, while others had opted for a more simplistic approach.
One home stood out among its neighbors due to giant wireframe destroyer that been erected in its front lawn. Matt Dover felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth when he looked at the thing. Originally nothing more than some steel rods and chicken wire, it had turned into a pretty good decoration. Looking to the world like a glowing ship sailing on a snowy sea.
He was just glad he had found enough time to decorate. Even a little thing like a war wasn't going to stop him from putting up some lights. Dover pushed kicked the snow off his boots, then stepped through the front door. The smell of good food assaulted his nose and set his mouth to watering. "Guess the Christmas dinner is almost ready," he muttered to himself.
There were a few other signs of the holiday scattered around the small house. A Christmas tree sat in the corner, strung with strings of blinking lights. A radio somewhere was softly playing music, and a pile of destroyers were laying on the living room floor, all fast asleep in front of the fireplace.
The sight caused Dover to stop and stare for a long moment. Even his old German Shepherd was stuck in the mess. Taylor and Dyson had snuggled against her, and were using the dog as a pillow. She looked up at Dover as he passed, and whapped her tail a few times. The sight caused Dover to burst out laughing.
Everyone had been on edge for the last few days, but after a week of nothing, things had begun to calm down. He was silently thankful that the Abyssals weren't going to ruin the Christmas holiday. The chance to unwind was exactly what everyone needed.
Dover carefully stepped around the pile, taking care not to wake any of the sleeping girls. He stepped into the kitchen where his wife was hard at work preparing dinner. Helena was sitting at the counter, a mug of coffee in hand.
"When did the herd arrive?" Dover asked after he reached over to give Rachel a quick peck on the cheek.
"About an hour ago," she replied, "And I thought you said you were going to be working late."
"What can I say, the Admiral didn't want us to miss Christmas," Dover replied shrugging. He hung his coat, and grabbed a cup of coffee. "So, who else is here?"
"Lou's upstairs watching TV with Tenryuu," Helena replied, "Some western most likely. The destroyers… well."
"I saw that," Dover replied, then smirked, "I knew that carpet was a good investment."
"I think Bama is…" Helena began, but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the battleship.
"Makin tea," Alabama replied in a voice that was just short of a yell. The battleship held up a large pitcher dark with tea in one hand, and a box of sugar in the other.
"Just don't let Kongou see that," Dover said, suppressing a laugh, "I would rather not have a repeat of that argument."
"Aw, she's just mad cause I showed her the right way to make it," Bama said with a fake pout.
Dover shook his head, not even trying to suppress his laughter anymore. Suddenly a new thought came to mind, "Do we have enough food?"
"Don't worry about that," Rachel replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
"So Christmas dinner with all the girls," Dover remarked, "I like it. It was going to be lonely with just the two of us anyway."
"As long as we aren't imposing," Helena said.
"Oh don't worry," Rachel replied, "Matt's right, it was going to be lonely with just the two of us anyway."
Dover sat in silence sipping at his coffee for a long moment. Things certainly had changed over these last few months. He couldn't remember the last time there had been so many people in his house for Christmas dinner. Even back stateside it had always just been him, Rachel, and maybe their parents. They were probably going to devour every scrap of food in the house, but Dover was glad to have the girls. It was their first Christmas after all.
"Things really have changed," Dover muttered to himself.
"What was that?" Rachel asked without looking over.
"Nothing," Dover replied, "Just thinking about how crazy our lives are."
"That's an understatement, honey," Rachel replied, with a smile.
Nicholas had never intended to fall asleep. She was only trying to sit in front of the fire with her sisters. The next thing she knew, she was being nudged awake. "Whazzat," she muttered muzzily as she sat up.
She looked up to see Commander Dover standing over her holding out a mug. "The food's almost ready," he said, then passed her the mug, which was filled with hot chocolate. He gave her a quick smile then walked off.
Nicholas sat in silence for several minutes, sipping at the mug and staring into the fire. Her first Christmas, well first Christmas as a person, and it was going just like she had imagined.
Her sisters were lying around in various states of sleep. 'At least I wasn't the only one,' she thought. Dover walked back into the room, and leaned down to scratch his dog behind the ears. Nicholas couldn't help but smile both at the sight and at Dover. He had done so much for her, for all the girls. She couldn't imagine having to go through what she had without his help. And here he was, letting them into his home for Christmas.
Nicholas wondered if this was what it felt like to have a family. To have herself, her friends, and all her sisters in one place to share a special day. It finally made sense why her crew was always so eager to go home for Christmas. She couldn't imagine being anywhere else right now.
"You look thoughtful," Bannie groaned as she pulled herself upright. The redhead was wearing a tacky sweater emblazoned with the Navy seal, and half her hair was sticking up.
Nicholas slammed a hand to her mouth in order to stifle a laugh.
"What?" Bannie growled.
"Just thinking about everything," Nicholas replied after sucking in a quick breath.
"Well that narrows things down," Bannie said, rolling her eyes.
"Of everything that has happened, I never stop being thankful for being given a family. A real family I mean," Nicholas replied, "That specific enough."
"Never was one for sentimental," Bannie replied, "But I know what you mean." The two sat there for several minutes, staring into the fire and listening to the music playing softly in the background.
Nicholas was thankful for her new life, almost everyday. Sure there were hard times and challenges, but the rewards more than made up for it. She had decided a long time ago that this was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and those thoughts were only strengthened today. She wondered, would every Christmas would be like this one?
"I guess you don't have to eat if you don't want to,"Dover said, surprising the two destroyers.
Nicholas looked up to see that everyone else had already left the room. Jeez, how could she be so absentminded? "Come on."
"Right behind you," Bannie replied.
Alabama knew all about good food, and good company. It wasn't called Southern hospitality for nothing. Even from her short time with them, she could tell, Commander Dover was good people. He like her tea after all. She might be new to this base, but the Commander treated her just like everyone else. A fact for which she was insanely grateful.
Now she lounged on the couch, bunkers full and happy. The feast had been just what she had needed, though she did feel bad for scarfing down so much. She might be small for a battleship, but she was still a battleship after all.
"You look happy," Dover eased himself down next to the battleship.
"Hard not to be," Bama replied with a chuckle, "Ya'll know how to put on a good meal."
"It wasn't anything special," Dover demurred.
"It was a home cooked meal for a bunch of girls who've never seen one before," Bama replied, "You may not think it, Commander, but these girls appreciate things like that."
"When you put it like that," Dover replied.
"Lighten up, Commander," Bama replied, reaching over to slap Dover on the back, "You did exactly the right thing."
"Merry Christmas," Dover said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Merry Christmas everyone.
Dark clouds covered the sky, and a thick layer of snow blanketed the ground. Winter had descended on the island with a vengeance. For many, it was simply another inconvenience. The war was taking a heavy toll on everyone. Despite everything that had happened over the last few months, there was evidence of the coming holidays everywhere. People probably just wanted something to celebrate. Something to take their minds off the war that was gripping the world.
Decorations littered the Navy Base, and everyone seemed to be getting into the holiday spirit. From the giant tree just outside the headquarters building, to the lights draped over the ships tied up in the harbour, it wasn't hard to find evidence of the season.
The houses in the officer's housing district were also decorated, each in their own way. Some of the occupants had decided to go all out for the season, while others had opted for a more simplistic approach.
One home stood out among its neighbors due to giant wireframe destroyer that been erected in its front lawn. Matt Dover felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth when he looked at the thing. Originally nothing more than some steel rods and chicken wire, it had turned into a pretty good decoration. Looking to the world like a glowing ship sailing on a snowy sea.
He was just glad he had found enough time to decorate. Even a little thing like a war wasn't going to stop him from putting up some lights. Dover pushed kicked the snow off his boots, then stepped through the front door. The smell of good food assaulted his nose and set his mouth to watering. "Guess the Christmas dinner is almost ready," he muttered to himself.
There were a few other signs of the holiday scattered around the small house. A Christmas tree sat in the corner, strung with strings of blinking lights. A radio somewhere was softly playing music, and a pile of destroyers were laying on the living room floor, all fast asleep in front of the fireplace.
The sight caused Dover to stop and stare for a long moment. Even his old German Shepherd was stuck in the mess. Taylor and Dyson had snuggled against her, and were using the dog as a pillow. She looked up at Dover as he passed, and whapped her tail a few times. The sight caused Dover to burst out laughing.
Everyone had been on edge for the last few days, but after a week of nothing, things had begun to calm down. He was silently thankful that the Abyssals weren't going to ruin the Christmas holiday. The chance to unwind was exactly what everyone needed.
Dover carefully stepped around the pile, taking care not to wake any of the sleeping girls. He stepped into the kitchen where his wife was hard at work preparing dinner. Helena was sitting at the counter, a mug of coffee in hand.
"When did the herd arrive?" Dover asked after he reached over to give Rachel a quick peck on the cheek.
"About an hour ago," she replied, "And I thought you said you were going to be working late."
"What can I say, the Admiral didn't want us to miss Christmas," Dover replied shrugging. He hung his coat, and grabbed a cup of coffee. "So, who else is here?"
"Lou's upstairs watching TV with Tenryuu," Helena replied, "Some western most likely. The destroyers… well."
"I saw that," Dover replied, then smirked, "I knew that carpet was a good investment."
"I think Bama is…" Helena began, but was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the battleship.
"Makin tea," Alabama replied in a voice that was just short of a yell. The battleship held up a large pitcher dark with tea in one hand, and a box of sugar in the other.
"Just don't let Kongou see that," Dover said, suppressing a laugh, "I would rather not have a repeat of that argument."
"Aw, she's just mad cause I showed her the right way to make it," Bama said with a fake pout.
Dover shook his head, not even trying to suppress his laughter anymore. Suddenly a new thought came to mind, "Do we have enough food?"
"Don't worry about that," Rachel replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
"So Christmas dinner with all the girls," Dover remarked, "I like it. It was going to be lonely with just the two of us anyway."
"As long as we aren't imposing," Helena said.
"Oh don't worry," Rachel replied, "Matt's right, it was going to be lonely with just the two of us anyway."
Dover sat in silence sipping at his coffee for a long moment. Things certainly had changed over these last few months. He couldn't remember the last time there had been so many people in his house for Christmas dinner. Even back stateside it had always just been him, Rachel, and maybe their parents. They were probably going to devour every scrap of food in the house, but Dover was glad to have the girls. It was their first Christmas after all.
"Things really have changed," Dover muttered to himself.
"What was that?" Rachel asked without looking over.
"Nothing," Dover replied, "Just thinking about how crazy our lives are."
"That's an understatement, honey," Rachel replied, with a smile.
-[]-[]-[]-
Nicholas had never intended to fall asleep. She was only trying to sit in front of the fire with her sisters. The next thing she knew, she was being nudged awake. "Whazzat," she muttered muzzily as she sat up.
She looked up to see Commander Dover standing over her holding out a mug. "The food's almost ready," he said, then passed her the mug, which was filled with hot chocolate. He gave her a quick smile then walked off.
Nicholas sat in silence for several minutes, sipping at the mug and staring into the fire. Her first Christmas, well first Christmas as a person, and it was going just like she had imagined.
Her sisters were lying around in various states of sleep. 'At least I wasn't the only one,' she thought. Dover walked back into the room, and leaned down to scratch his dog behind the ears. Nicholas couldn't help but smile both at the sight and at Dover. He had done so much for her, for all the girls. She couldn't imagine having to go through what she had without his help. And here he was, letting them into his home for Christmas.
Nicholas wondered if this was what it felt like to have a family. To have herself, her friends, and all her sisters in one place to share a special day. It finally made sense why her crew was always so eager to go home for Christmas. She couldn't imagine being anywhere else right now.
"You look thoughtful," Bannie groaned as she pulled herself upright. The redhead was wearing a tacky sweater emblazoned with the Navy seal, and half her hair was sticking up.
Nicholas slammed a hand to her mouth in order to stifle a laugh.
"What?" Bannie growled.
"Just thinking about everything," Nicholas replied after sucking in a quick breath.
"Well that narrows things down," Bannie said, rolling her eyes.
"Of everything that has happened, I never stop being thankful for being given a family. A real family I mean," Nicholas replied, "That specific enough."
"Never was one for sentimental," Bannie replied, "But I know what you mean." The two sat there for several minutes, staring into the fire and listening to the music playing softly in the background.
Nicholas was thankful for her new life, almost everyday. Sure there were hard times and challenges, but the rewards more than made up for it. She had decided a long time ago that this was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and those thoughts were only strengthened today. She wondered, would every Christmas would be like this one?
"I guess you don't have to eat if you don't want to,"Dover said, surprising the two destroyers.
Nicholas looked up to see that everyone else had already left the room. Jeez, how could she be so absentminded? "Come on."
"Right behind you," Bannie replied.
-[]-[]-[]-
Alabama knew all about good food, and good company. It wasn't called Southern hospitality for nothing. Even from her short time with them, she could tell, Commander Dover was good people. He like her tea after all. She might be new to this base, but the Commander treated her just like everyone else. A fact for which she was insanely grateful.
Now she lounged on the couch, bunkers full and happy. The feast had been just what she had needed, though she did feel bad for scarfing down so much. She might be small for a battleship, but she was still a battleship after all.
"You look happy," Dover eased himself down next to the battleship.
"Hard not to be," Bama replied with a chuckle, "Ya'll know how to put on a good meal."
"It wasn't anything special," Dover demurred.
"It was a home cooked meal for a bunch of girls who've never seen one before," Bama replied, "You may not think it, Commander, but these girls appreciate things like that."
"When you put it like that," Dover replied.
"Lighten up, Commander," Bama replied, reaching over to slap Dover on the back, "You did exactly the right thing."
"Merry Christmas," Dover said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Merry Christmas everyone.
- Location
- 'Murica
Puddle of sleeping destroyers plus dog in front of a fireplace. We're reaching levels of d'aww that shouldn't even be possible!
Bama bote is best bote. It seems to be a constant in the universe.
TortugaGreen
Constantly out of the loop
- Pronouns
- She/Her
"Commander Dover was a good person"?
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
It's slang. You would tell a person 'You're good people' if they are a good friend or comrade, or a fantastic example of humans.
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
It's southern slang that I slip into whenever I write Bama. I don't like to go overboard with writing accents, but there are a few phrases I slip in to make her voice distinct.
CompassJimbo
Where’s Your North?
- Location
- The former Rubber Capital of the World
Small details like that are always nice.
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Pretty much, though I haven't hammered out the details just yet.
12: Respite
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Nicholas was dreaming.
All around her stretched a landscape unlike anything she had ever seen before. A dark sea of glass smooth water spread out as far as she could see in every direction. The sea was calm and flat as and unbroken pane of glass stretching towards infinity, so much so that Nick could not see where the water ended and the sky began.
A cold wind whipped past Nick, stinging her skin as it howled by. The air in the place was freezing cold, and already she could feel herself beginning to shiver. The sky that hung around her possessed a darkness so thick that it seemed to pull the light out of everything it touched.
"HELLO!" Nick shouted at the top of her lungs. There was no one who could hear, but the destroyer had to do something. She began to frantically scan the surroundings, looking for answers. For a reason as to why she was here. There was nothing like this in any of her memories. So why had her subconscious brought her to this strange place?
Even with her desperate searching, all Nick could find was more and more of this strange sea.
"Where am I?" she repeated the question to herself, speaking the words over and over. Her voice was the only real thing she had in this place.
She began to sail forward. Surging ahead as fast as her screws would push her. There had to be something, anything out there that could explain all this, but all she could see was nothing.
"Damnit," she growled, "Fucking damnit. She tried to get some reference with her navigation instruments, but nothing they said made any sense. Even her gyrocompass was spinning wildly, refusing to settle on a bearing. Something that should never happen under any circumstances.
"Great, now none of this makes any fucking sense." Nick felt her turbines wind down as she slowed to a halt. There was no point in running around like mad when there was nowhere to go. From what she had seen, there was nothing in this place. Just an unbroken plain of absolute nothingness.
The cold air had grown worse, if that was even possible. Nick could feel herself shivering violently against it now, but there was not a damn thing she could do. Her mind was creating this place for some reason, and it had decided that she would have to endure the cold.
Nick stood staring up at the inky black sky for who knows how long. Time seemed to crawl past in this place. It could have been five minutes or five hours, she had no idea.
Suddenly, the horizon was backlit by flames. A great fireball rose up in the distance, followed by a loud explosion that reverberated in Nick's chest. She could see several shadowy figures in the distance, backlit by explosions.
Nick had seen enough battles to know exactly what she was looking at. Someone out there was in trouble. She couldn't just stand by and wait. The destroyer poured every ounce of strength she had into her turbines, pushing her tired machinery to the limit of endurance. She had to move faster, she had to get there faster.
The battle continued to rage over the horizon. The staccato flashes of gunfire coming almost constantly now. Screams and shouts of panic rang over the radio. With every passing seconds, things grew even more dire. It wouldn't be long now until the situation fell into complete disarray.
"I'm coming," she shouted, ignoring the fatigue that began to grip her form. Ignoring the burning in her legs, and the tightening in her chest. None of that mattered, she had to….
Nick's legs suddenly gave out from under her. The destroyer was sent flying forward, and she hit the water face first.
"No, not like--"
"--This," Nick sat up with a start. Awareness came slowly to the destroyer, and it took her several minutes to calm her breathing. The room slowly came into focus, and her mind slowly began to reassert the fact that this world was real and whatever that had been was nothing more than a dream.
The cell phone sitting next to her bed chirped insistently, indicating clearly just what had snapped her out of the dream. She grabbed for the device and answered, "Nicholas."
"You're not trying to skip out on me, are you?" Dr. Tanner's voice made Nicholas finch unconsciously. She was supposed to be in his office getting a checkup right now, wasn't she.
"I'm sorry, Commander." She reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. So much for being on time. "I'll be there in a couple minutes, sir."
"Good, I'll see you then." A click indicated that Tanner had hung up from his end.
Nick laid on her back for several minutes, staring at the ceiling. She was running through the few memories she had of her dream, trying to make sense of it, but with every passing moment the scenes in her mind grew fuzzier and fuzzier until she was left with nothing more than the vaguest idea of what she had seen.
Without thinking, she turned back to the phone and began to scroll through the messaging app. There were about thirty-seven messages from Sendai, all of them asking if Nick would be willing to play World of Warships. A desperate sounding message from Haruna asking if Nick could help her stop Hiei from doing something stupid. Then, at the very bottom, was the message that Nick had been waiting for. Bannie had finally made contact.
Bannie's message was nothing more than a terse greeting, and a recount of all the boring things she had been doing. Nothing special really, but Nick found herself reading through the short note over and over.
"I better get going," Nick muttered to herself, and then slipped the phone into her pocket. She could reply to everyone later, right now she needed to get to Tanner's office before the doctor sent out an overdue ship advisory.
Richard Tanner rubbed his chin in thought. His next move would take careful planning and consideration. If he messed up now, the consequences would be dire. Then he saw it and knew exactly what he had to do. "Check," he announced sliding his queen forward several spaces. He looked up at his opponent with a smug grin on his face, trying his best to ignore the fairy shooting him a dirty look.
"Took you long enough," muttered the repair ship Akashi.
"It took me time to work out of that trap you tried." Tanner took a long sip from his mug, then grimaced as he tasted the burnt coffee.
"Excuse me, I'm still new to this," Akashi replied. She managed to break the check, but wasn't in the best of positions.
"There are a lot of things we're all new at," Tanner said wistfully, "I never imagined that I'd be doing double duty as an engineer ten years ago."
"And I never thought I would have two legs, two arms, and a nice rack," Akashi deadpanned.
"But it's such a nice rack," Tanner shot back, earning him a slug in the arm. "Anything on the docket for today that I need to know about?" Tanner asked as he reached up to rub his arm. He reached back over to move another piece on the board.
"Just Nicholas' checkup," Akashi replied, "She's lucky you know. That torpedo basically only tore hell out of her bottom plating."
"I don't think I'd call going through that lucky," Tanner quipped.
"I mean that she was luck in the fact that her shafts and boiler rooms were untouched. If those had been damaged, well then she'd have been stuck in dock for a lot longer."
"Thank goodness for small miracles." A knock at the door caused Tanner to look up in surprise. "How much do you want to bet that's out missing tin can?"
"I never take a losing bet, doc," Akashi replied grinning, then waved a hand at the chess board, "Finish this later, or do you want to resign?"
"Might as well leave it. If today is anything like normal, then we'll have plenty of time to finish it." Tanner walked over to the door and yanked it open. What he saw surprised him. Nicholas was standing out in the hallway, her face pale and her hair a mess. She looked terrible, like she had just come out of twelve hours on the line.
"Jesus, what happened to you?" Akashi asked with her usual level of tact.
Tanner ignored his associate, instead focusing on the destroyer, "What's going on, Nicholas?"
"Nothing," the destroyer muttered. Without another word she pushed her way past Tanner and shuffled over to the examination table. Tanner could detect a slight limp. Her injuries were probably still aching a bit. Which was understandable given their extent.
Tanner wasted no time getting to work, gently probing Nicholas' bandaged legs. "Have you been eating properly?"
"If you mean around thirty pounds a day," Nicholas quipped, "Then yes, I have."
"How about sleep?" Tanner froze when he felt Nicholas finch. Shitting up to look into the girl's eyes, he asked, "Nightmares?"
"You could say that," she replied, trying her best to break eye contact with the doctor.
"Akashi, can you come take over here?" Tanner asked, waving over the repair ship.
"Sure thing." Akashi knelt down to study Nicholas' injured legs while Tanner pulled himself up on the table to sit next to her.
"So, what sort of nightmares?"
"I don't remember," Nicholas replied, "Everything I see fades after I wake."
"But it's obviously something troubling," Tanner guessed.
"Yeah, you could say that," Nicholas replied, fidgeting.
"You know we humans have nightmares for a dozen different reasons." Tanner stared off at the wall of his office, not really looking at anything in particular. "Realizing our fears, reliving past memories, or sometimes they're just dreams." When he looked back down at the destroyer, she was giving him a blank expression. "Look at it this way, you're worried about your sisters, aren't you?"
"Of course," she replied without hesitation.
"And you're afraid that they'll run into trouble while you're stuck here?"
"Sort of," Nicholas replied, letting a long breath whistle through her teeth.
Tanner snaked an arm around the destroyer's shoulders. "Don't worry about it then. Just do as much as you can. I'm sure they understand."
"Well, if you're done with the mental evaluation," Akashi announced, "Your wound is healing nicely. I'd like to talk with your engineering officer, but it looks like the repairs are holding."
"Oh, sure," Nicholas replied absentmindedly. She held out her hand a second later and let the fairy standing jump off onto the table.
"Here's what I'm going to do, Nick," Tanner announced a moment later, "I don't see any reason not to place you on limited duty, and I'm sure Commander Shimada would approve a leave request."
"You're telling me to take a leave?" Nicholas asked .
"Get out, see the sights. Get your mind off the war for a few days." Tanner patted the girl on the back, then slid off the table. "Lord knows the war will still be here when you get back."
"I may try that," Nicholas said, her face brightening somewhat. She slid off the table a moment later. "Anything else, doc?"
"I'm good, have a nice day," Tanner replied. He reached over to grab the fairy by the shirt, ignoring its tiny protests. Nicholas took her crewman back without a word, then disappeared from the office.
"You know I wasn't done talking to him," Akashi announced a second later.
"You wouldn't have learned anything you didn't already know," Tanner replied, but he really wasn't paying attention to his partner. Instead he was focused on his phone as he scrolled through the list of contacts. Finally finding the number he wanted, he pressed the dial button, and then raised the phone to his ear.
"Hey, Kongou, I want to ask you a favor."
"This is never going to work," Jack Shimada muttered for perhaps the fifth time.
"Have some faith, Commander. Nothing works before you try it." Goto didn't even look up, instead remaining transfixed on the scene playing out in front of the two officers. They had taken over a swimming pool and were in the process of holding a seance in it. At least, that's what it looked like to Shimada. What with all the candles, incense, and the priest.
"And we seem to be trying to summon a shipgirl using, wait for it," Shimada said, holding up his fingers up in air quotes, "Magic."
"It's not magic," Goto replied dismissively, "Simply something that was suggested by the girls themselves."
"Hisashi, we're talking about ships that look and act like young women," Shimada said, rolling his eyes, "I think magic sums it up quite nicely."
Goto folded his arms across his chest and gave Shimada a dejected look. "That may be so, but at this point, I am willing to try anything. Need I remind you of the losses we have suffered over the last week alone?"
"Point," Shimada replied, "I don't think a single ship has made it through to the States since the war began."
"And all that tried were lost with all hands," Goto added, "Commander I think under the circumstances, 'magic' may be our only option."
"I agree. I don't like it, but I agree." Shimada crossed his arms over his chest, then stared at Goto for a long moment. "So how is this supposed to work?"
"I couldn't begin to tell you, Jack," Goto replied, holding a straight face. "They are starting."
Shimada looked up just in time to see the head priest, or whatever he was begin to march around the pool. He was probably doing some ritual seeped in tradition, but Shimada honestly couldn't make heads or tails of it. "I never could figure this stuff out," he whispered.
Goto opened his mouth to reply, but he never got the chance.
A loud bang and a cry of alarm rang through the small room. Shimada whirled around to look, and came face to face with a woman standing in the pool, who had assuredly not been there a second before. "Sparkly shipgirl bullshit," he whispered to Goto, earning him a scathing look in return.
Shimada noticed several things about the woman who had appeared. FIrst, that she was very tall and positively rippling with muscles. Second was that her "uniform" would probably send any self respecting chief into apoplectic shock. There was basically enough material to keep to woman decent, and not a stitch more.
Goto strode up to the edge of the pool and stood staring at the woman for a long moment. In a fluid motion, she brought up a hand in salute, "Battleship Nagato reporting, sir. How can I help?"
Goto returned the salute with one of his own. "It is good to have you, Nagato. There are many things you need to be caught up on."
The battleship lowered her hand in front of her face, and stared at it for several seconds. "That may be an understatement."
"Goto," Shimada asked, walking up to his friend, "Can you please explain to me, in great detail, what the fuck you just did?"
All around her stretched a landscape unlike anything she had ever seen before. A dark sea of glass smooth water spread out as far as she could see in every direction. The sea was calm and flat as and unbroken pane of glass stretching towards infinity, so much so that Nick could not see where the water ended and the sky began.
A cold wind whipped past Nick, stinging her skin as it howled by. The air in the place was freezing cold, and already she could feel herself beginning to shiver. The sky that hung around her possessed a darkness so thick that it seemed to pull the light out of everything it touched.
"HELLO!" Nick shouted at the top of her lungs. There was no one who could hear, but the destroyer had to do something. She began to frantically scan the surroundings, looking for answers. For a reason as to why she was here. There was nothing like this in any of her memories. So why had her subconscious brought her to this strange place?
Even with her desperate searching, all Nick could find was more and more of this strange sea.
"Where am I?" she repeated the question to herself, speaking the words over and over. Her voice was the only real thing she had in this place.
She began to sail forward. Surging ahead as fast as her screws would push her. There had to be something, anything out there that could explain all this, but all she could see was nothing.
"Damnit," she growled, "Fucking damnit. She tried to get some reference with her navigation instruments, but nothing they said made any sense. Even her gyrocompass was spinning wildly, refusing to settle on a bearing. Something that should never happen under any circumstances.
"Great, now none of this makes any fucking sense." Nick felt her turbines wind down as she slowed to a halt. There was no point in running around like mad when there was nowhere to go. From what she had seen, there was nothing in this place. Just an unbroken plain of absolute nothingness.
The cold air had grown worse, if that was even possible. Nick could feel herself shivering violently against it now, but there was not a damn thing she could do. Her mind was creating this place for some reason, and it had decided that she would have to endure the cold.
Nick stood staring up at the inky black sky for who knows how long. Time seemed to crawl past in this place. It could have been five minutes or five hours, she had no idea.
Suddenly, the horizon was backlit by flames. A great fireball rose up in the distance, followed by a loud explosion that reverberated in Nick's chest. She could see several shadowy figures in the distance, backlit by explosions.
Nick had seen enough battles to know exactly what she was looking at. Someone out there was in trouble. She couldn't just stand by and wait. The destroyer poured every ounce of strength she had into her turbines, pushing her tired machinery to the limit of endurance. She had to move faster, she had to get there faster.
The battle continued to rage over the horizon. The staccato flashes of gunfire coming almost constantly now. Screams and shouts of panic rang over the radio. With every passing seconds, things grew even more dire. It wouldn't be long now until the situation fell into complete disarray.
"I'm coming," she shouted, ignoring the fatigue that began to grip her form. Ignoring the burning in her legs, and the tightening in her chest. None of that mattered, she had to….
Nick's legs suddenly gave out from under her. The destroyer was sent flying forward, and she hit the water face first.
"No, not like--"
-[]-[]-[]-
"--This," Nick sat up with a start. Awareness came slowly to the destroyer, and it took her several minutes to calm her breathing. The room slowly came into focus, and her mind slowly began to reassert the fact that this world was real and whatever that had been was nothing more than a dream.
The cell phone sitting next to her bed chirped insistently, indicating clearly just what had snapped her out of the dream. She grabbed for the device and answered, "Nicholas."
"You're not trying to skip out on me, are you?" Dr. Tanner's voice made Nicholas finch unconsciously. She was supposed to be in his office getting a checkup right now, wasn't she.
"I'm sorry, Commander." She reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose. So much for being on time. "I'll be there in a couple minutes, sir."
"Good, I'll see you then." A click indicated that Tanner had hung up from his end.
Nick laid on her back for several minutes, staring at the ceiling. She was running through the few memories she had of her dream, trying to make sense of it, but with every passing moment the scenes in her mind grew fuzzier and fuzzier until she was left with nothing more than the vaguest idea of what she had seen.
Without thinking, she turned back to the phone and began to scroll through the messaging app. There were about thirty-seven messages from Sendai, all of them asking if Nick would be willing to play World of Warships. A desperate sounding message from Haruna asking if Nick could help her stop Hiei from doing something stupid. Then, at the very bottom, was the message that Nick had been waiting for. Bannie had finally made contact.
Bannie's message was nothing more than a terse greeting, and a recount of all the boring things she had been doing. Nothing special really, but Nick found herself reading through the short note over and over.
"I better get going," Nick muttered to herself, and then slipped the phone into her pocket. She could reply to everyone later, right now she needed to get to Tanner's office before the doctor sent out an overdue ship advisory.
-[]-[]-[]-
Richard Tanner rubbed his chin in thought. His next move would take careful planning and consideration. If he messed up now, the consequences would be dire. Then he saw it and knew exactly what he had to do. "Check," he announced sliding his queen forward several spaces. He looked up at his opponent with a smug grin on his face, trying his best to ignore the fairy shooting him a dirty look.
"Took you long enough," muttered the repair ship Akashi.
"It took me time to work out of that trap you tried." Tanner took a long sip from his mug, then grimaced as he tasted the burnt coffee.
"Excuse me, I'm still new to this," Akashi replied. She managed to break the check, but wasn't in the best of positions.
"There are a lot of things we're all new at," Tanner said wistfully, "I never imagined that I'd be doing double duty as an engineer ten years ago."
"And I never thought I would have two legs, two arms, and a nice rack," Akashi deadpanned.
"But it's such a nice rack," Tanner shot back, earning him a slug in the arm. "Anything on the docket for today that I need to know about?" Tanner asked as he reached up to rub his arm. He reached back over to move another piece on the board.
"Just Nicholas' checkup," Akashi replied, "She's lucky you know. That torpedo basically only tore hell out of her bottom plating."
"I don't think I'd call going through that lucky," Tanner quipped.
"I mean that she was luck in the fact that her shafts and boiler rooms were untouched. If those had been damaged, well then she'd have been stuck in dock for a lot longer."
"Thank goodness for small miracles." A knock at the door caused Tanner to look up in surprise. "How much do you want to bet that's out missing tin can?"
"I never take a losing bet, doc," Akashi replied grinning, then waved a hand at the chess board, "Finish this later, or do you want to resign?"
"Might as well leave it. If today is anything like normal, then we'll have plenty of time to finish it." Tanner walked over to the door and yanked it open. What he saw surprised him. Nicholas was standing out in the hallway, her face pale and her hair a mess. She looked terrible, like she had just come out of twelve hours on the line.
"Jesus, what happened to you?" Akashi asked with her usual level of tact.
Tanner ignored his associate, instead focusing on the destroyer, "What's going on, Nicholas?"
"Nothing," the destroyer muttered. Without another word she pushed her way past Tanner and shuffled over to the examination table. Tanner could detect a slight limp. Her injuries were probably still aching a bit. Which was understandable given their extent.
Tanner wasted no time getting to work, gently probing Nicholas' bandaged legs. "Have you been eating properly?"
"If you mean around thirty pounds a day," Nicholas quipped, "Then yes, I have."
"How about sleep?" Tanner froze when he felt Nicholas finch. Shitting up to look into the girl's eyes, he asked, "Nightmares?"
"You could say that," she replied, trying her best to break eye contact with the doctor.
"Akashi, can you come take over here?" Tanner asked, waving over the repair ship.
"Sure thing." Akashi knelt down to study Nicholas' injured legs while Tanner pulled himself up on the table to sit next to her.
"So, what sort of nightmares?"
"I don't remember," Nicholas replied, "Everything I see fades after I wake."
"But it's obviously something troubling," Tanner guessed.
"Yeah, you could say that," Nicholas replied, fidgeting.
"You know we humans have nightmares for a dozen different reasons." Tanner stared off at the wall of his office, not really looking at anything in particular. "Realizing our fears, reliving past memories, or sometimes they're just dreams." When he looked back down at the destroyer, she was giving him a blank expression. "Look at it this way, you're worried about your sisters, aren't you?"
"Of course," she replied without hesitation.
"And you're afraid that they'll run into trouble while you're stuck here?"
"Sort of," Nicholas replied, letting a long breath whistle through her teeth.
Tanner snaked an arm around the destroyer's shoulders. "Don't worry about it then. Just do as much as you can. I'm sure they understand."
"Well, if you're done with the mental evaluation," Akashi announced, "Your wound is healing nicely. I'd like to talk with your engineering officer, but it looks like the repairs are holding."
"Oh, sure," Nicholas replied absentmindedly. She held out her hand a second later and let the fairy standing jump off onto the table.
"Here's what I'm going to do, Nick," Tanner announced a moment later, "I don't see any reason not to place you on limited duty, and I'm sure Commander Shimada would approve a leave request."
"You're telling me to take a leave?" Nicholas asked .
"Get out, see the sights. Get your mind off the war for a few days." Tanner patted the girl on the back, then slid off the table. "Lord knows the war will still be here when you get back."
"I may try that," Nicholas said, her face brightening somewhat. She slid off the table a moment later. "Anything else, doc?"
"I'm good, have a nice day," Tanner replied. He reached over to grab the fairy by the shirt, ignoring its tiny protests. Nicholas took her crewman back without a word, then disappeared from the office.
"You know I wasn't done talking to him," Akashi announced a second later.
"You wouldn't have learned anything you didn't already know," Tanner replied, but he really wasn't paying attention to his partner. Instead he was focused on his phone as he scrolled through the list of contacts. Finally finding the number he wanted, he pressed the dial button, and then raised the phone to his ear.
"Hey, Kongou, I want to ask you a favor."
-[]-[]-[]-
"This is never going to work," Jack Shimada muttered for perhaps the fifth time.
"Have some faith, Commander. Nothing works before you try it." Goto didn't even look up, instead remaining transfixed on the scene playing out in front of the two officers. They had taken over a swimming pool and were in the process of holding a seance in it. At least, that's what it looked like to Shimada. What with all the candles, incense, and the priest.
"And we seem to be trying to summon a shipgirl using, wait for it," Shimada said, holding up his fingers up in air quotes, "Magic."
"It's not magic," Goto replied dismissively, "Simply something that was suggested by the girls themselves."
"Hisashi, we're talking about ships that look and act like young women," Shimada said, rolling his eyes, "I think magic sums it up quite nicely."
Goto folded his arms across his chest and gave Shimada a dejected look. "That may be so, but at this point, I am willing to try anything. Need I remind you of the losses we have suffered over the last week alone?"
"Point," Shimada replied, "I don't think a single ship has made it through to the States since the war began."
"And all that tried were lost with all hands," Goto added, "Commander I think under the circumstances, 'magic' may be our only option."
"I agree. I don't like it, but I agree." Shimada crossed his arms over his chest, then stared at Goto for a long moment. "So how is this supposed to work?"
"I couldn't begin to tell you, Jack," Goto replied, holding a straight face. "They are starting."
Shimada looked up just in time to see the head priest, or whatever he was begin to march around the pool. He was probably doing some ritual seeped in tradition, but Shimada honestly couldn't make heads or tails of it. "I never could figure this stuff out," he whispered.
Goto opened his mouth to reply, but he never got the chance.
A loud bang and a cry of alarm rang through the small room. Shimada whirled around to look, and came face to face with a woman standing in the pool, who had assuredly not been there a second before. "Sparkly shipgirl bullshit," he whispered to Goto, earning him a scathing look in return.
Shimada noticed several things about the woman who had appeared. FIrst, that she was very tall and positively rippling with muscles. Second was that her "uniform" would probably send any self respecting chief into apoplectic shock. There was basically enough material to keep to woman decent, and not a stitch more.
Goto strode up to the edge of the pool and stood staring at the woman for a long moment. In a fluid motion, she brought up a hand in salute, "Battleship Nagato reporting, sir. How can I help?"
Goto returned the salute with one of his own. "It is good to have you, Nagato. There are many things you need to be caught up on."
The battleship lowered her hand in front of her face, and stared at it for several seconds. "That may be an understatement."
"Goto," Shimada asked, walking up to his friend, "Can you please explain to me, in great detail, what the fuck you just did?"
- Location
- North Carolina
Poor Nicholas. At least she will survive, still huzzah Nagato is in the house!
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
For clarification, no, Nagato isn't the battleship I had mentioned before. She was just the easiest way to introduce summoning.
- Location
- North Carolina
Ah that makes sense. Still very well done indeed.
- Location
- Philippines
Loved both the Christmas fluff and the latest chapter. The former for the fluffy destroyer cuddle-pile with a fluffy dog and the latter for its great mix of hilarity (the SMS from Sendai and Haruna, Shimada's reactions to sparkly ship-girl bullshit) and seriousness (Nick's nightmare, Tanner's advice).
13: The Sea of Paper
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Fleet Activities Yokosuka
Commander Shimada had learned many things during his long career in the service. Never assume you know more than someone else. Never blow off a career NCO. Never stick your ass out for anyone or anything. Never blame someone else for your mistakes, and never, ever, keep an Admiral waiting. They usually had a lot of work to do, and if one called you in for a "talk" there was probably a damn good reason for it.
So when Jack Shimada got a phone call last night asking for him to come in, he made damn sure he was in the Admiral's office first thing the next morning. He had managed to arrive before the Admiral, and now had nothing to do but wait. He was sitting in the outer office, scanning through recent news on his phone. The only other person in the room was a dour faced, middle aged yeoman too busy tapping away at a computer to even acknowledge Shimada.
The first time Shimada saw the Admiral, he was in the process of slamming the outer door closed. He stormed into his office without even giving Shimada a second glance. "Is he always like that?" Shimada asked the yeoman, who only replied with a shrug.
A second later, he got his answer when the Admiral bellowed, "Commander, get your ass in here!"
"I wouldn't keep him waiting, sir," the yeoman remarked in a lazy drawl.
"I figured." With a sigh, Shimada stepped into the office and came face to face with Rear Admiral Richard Howe.
Howe was an intense little man with wiry hair and thick glasses. He looked more like a college professor than a warrior, but despite his looks, he was in charge of operations for all of 7th Fleet. A ship didn't move in the 7th Fleet's area of operations without Admiral Howe's order. This also meant he had been saddled with most of the fallout from the kanmusu situation. Up till now he had been pretty receptive to their situation, but that may no longer be the case.
Howe sucked in a long breath through his teeth, and then threw a file folder across the desk. Shimada almost didn't catch the folder when it hit his chest. "Mind explaining what this is all about?"
Shimada quickly flipped through the papers stuffed into the folder. Most were requisition slips he had filled out yesterday, all of them related to Goto's most recent discovery.
"One hundred pounds of cordite powder. A hundred gallons of special fuel oil. Two pallets of sheet steel?" Howe's tone grew more skeptical with each item on the list. 'What in the hell are you planning to do with all this?"
"Sir, I detailed this in my report," Shimada tried to explain.
"That report, Commander," Howe interrupted, "Read like something ripped from a bad anime. I'll concede these kanmusu exist, and should be used, but summoning them with a sketchy sounding ritual? Do you know what would happen if I sent that request to the fleet commander?"
"I didn't know how else to describe it," Shimada replied, trying hard to keep his voice level.
Howe stared at him for several more seconds, before allowing a long, exasperated breath to escape. "Jesus Christ, Commander, I'm trying to keep an open mind about this thing, but stuff like this doesn't make it easy."
"Sir, is this what you wanted to talk about?" Shimada asked, slowly slipping the folder back onto Admiral Howe's desk.
"I can't give you those stocks," Howe snapped, "I'm having a hell of a time divvying what I do have to the deployed ships, and the damn Air Force can't seem to get their asses in gear. Even with all those converted airliners."
Shimada gave a shallow nod. He was well aware of the supply issues. With the sea lanes cut, it was becoming next to impossible to ship goods into and out of Japan. The US Air Force was doing their best to pick up the slack with their huge transports, but there was just too much stuff. Several major airlines had donated their unused aircraft for the duration, but even with the extra cargo space, they were only barely able to meet demands.
"I get enough crap about your little side show as it is. If you haven't noticed, Commander, there are people in the chain of command who think it's a waste of time."
"The battleship admirals rise again," Shimada muttered, and then immediately regretted the outburst.
"Excuse me?" Howe barked, anger clear in his voice.
"Sir, I am merely drawing a connection between the current situation and the feud between battleship and carrier admirals of WWII," Shimada explained.
A conflicted look crossed Howe's face, "Things aren't that simple."
Jack Shimada was getting pretty damn tired of playing politics when it came to the girls. They needed to focus on fighting the Abyssals, not each other. He didn't care what the other senior officers thought of his little program, but Admiral Howe was the one in charge of his supplies and personnel. Shimada couldn't afford to let Howe be a silent enemy to the kanmusu program. If he was going to stonewall it, Shimada figured it would be better to get things out in the open. He was probably going to wind up on someone's shit list for this, but it had to be said. If he could make a powerful ally here and now, then so much the better.
"Sir, I completely understand if you think my program is a waste of time. If you want, I will tender my resignation within the hour and turn sole leadership of the program back over to the Japanese. But sir, I would prefer to have that information up front. Getting stuck up in office politics six weeks down the road will only hurt everyone involved." Howe stared at Shimada with an enraged look.
'Good job Jack, you let your wiseass mouth run away again." Shimada tensed involuntarily in preparation for the ass chewing he knew was about to happen. To his surprise, Admiral Howe remained silent for a long time, a look of intense concentration on his face.
When he did speak, his voice seethed with anger, "Commander, you are out of line."
Shimada managed to keep his face neutral, but his spirits fell. Things were pointing more and more to the idea that Admiral Howe was in the 'kanmusu are useless' camp. "I apologize sir, but I am sick of getting the runaround."
"I currently have missions for about twice the number of ships I actually have. The few that are still combat effective are being stretched to the absolute breaking point. And then CINCPAC orders my only full strength DESRON to make a run to Pearl Harbor for God knows why." Howe pulled his glasses off then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I need to keep all my options open. I can't afford to overlook any assets, no matter how unconventional. Keep your requests within reason, Commander, and I will do my best to fulfill them."
That stunned Shimada. He stood speechless for several seconds. He had been convinced Howe was going to order him away from the girls. Finally, he croaked, "It was so I could try to summon a girl."
"Excuse me?" Howe replied, confused.
"Those requisitions, I was going to try to summon a girl. We still don't know why it worked the first time, so I wanted some extra materials to experiment with."
"I assume that's why you want the band?"
"A hunch as well, yes sir," Shimada nodded. Howe drummed his fingers on the desk for several seconds in contemplation.
"I can authorize a hundred pounds of each item," he announced, "It will be up to the supply officer whether you get it."
"Yes sir. Thank you sir," Shimada replied, a feeling of relief washing through his body. "Is that all, sir?"
"For now," Howe replied, then waved Shimada out of the room. As he opened the door, Howe called, "Don't make waves, Commander. I can't shield you from everything."
Shimada jerked his head in a shallow nod, before pulling the door closed behind him. He had a lot of work to take care of now. Hopefully his attempt would be as successful as Goto's. Heaven knew they needed some good news right about now. It seemed that nothing was going right for the Navy. Shimada just hoped that reality would refrain from throwing another curveball, at least for a little while.
Office of Naval Intelligence
Suitland, MD
When Admiral Steven Davies stepped into his office, he hadn't expected to see the Chief of Naval Operations sitting behind his desk. He was so surprised at the Admiral's sudden appearance, that it was almost a minute before Davies asked, "How may I help you, sir?"
"Have you seen this month's copy of the Proceedings, Admiral?" the Admiral asked, thoroughly confusing Davies.
"No," he replied, racking his brain for an explanation to the question.
"Then do you have an explanation for this?" Davies' stomach dropped. Judging by the Admiral's tone, he was pissed.
Without another word, the Admiral tossed a manila envelope onto the desk. Davies wasted no time fiddling with the clasp, deciding instead to just tear the top off. Inside there was a single magazine, a copy of the Naval Institute Proceedings dated last week. That on the surface was completely normal. What struck Davies was the image emblazoned on the cover.
A young, red haired girl wearing what appeared to be the major components of a ship strapped to her body was standing between two officers. From the background of the picture, Davies guessed it had been taken aboard a ship.
It didn't take a genius to realize why the CNO had made the trip down from the Pentagon, and the tagline printed across the top of the cover only served to hammer that point home, "Kanmusu in the Modern Navy."
Davies stood in silence for a long moment, attempting to gather his thoughts. He didn't know anything about this. The CNO probably knew more. "Sir, I don't know where this came from."
"The article--which is well done might add--was written by the DESRON 23 commodore. Apparently a few destroyers showed up and attached themselves to him. The picture came from a photographer's mate aboard the Halsey."
"Sir, I swear, I knew nothing about this," Davies repeated, tossing the magazine back onto the desk.
"Apparently someone didn't get the memo about keeping this whole thing under wraps," the CNO bristled. It was painfully obvious that the man was on the brink of exploding.
"We never said it was classified," Davies replied, "And honestly I never expected there to be more of them. From what Commander Shimada has been reporting, they're having a hell of time figuring out how they even got here."
"Well whatever the cause, the kanmusu are in the public eye now," the CNO said, coldly, "It took less than ten minutes for that story to make the rounds on the internet. I've been deflecting calls from the press all morning. This story is about to break, Admiral, and we need to make damn sure we know what to say when it does."
"Aye sir," Davies replied, "But isn't that a job for the Public Affairs Office?"
"Oh yes," the CNO said, fixing Davies with a cold stare, "But you are going to tell them what to say, and then, you are going to run damage control."
"Sir, with respect, make a unit to deal with this. Find a good officer to be its commander, and assign all the kanmusu to him," Davies suggested.
"That may be our only option at this point. I doubt the press will buy the 'We don't know' routine any longer." With a nod, the CNO stood up from the desk and strode past Davies. "Handle this, Admiral," he said, and then walked out the door.
Davies grabbed the magazine off his desk and stared at the cover for a long moment. If his guess was right, he was going to have one hell of a workload for the next few days. With a sigh, he tossed it back onto the desk and shouted, "Chief, get in here!"
Nick liked to think nothing could surprise her anymore. After more than thirty years of service, several dozen combat actions, and more medals than she could count, she thought that she would be ready for anything. However, her time in service had done little to prepare her for a certain hyperactive expat battleship— to say, Kongou.
Kongou sat one row ahead of Nick, excitedly jabbering away about something or other with a total stranger. Nick was doing her best to blend into the woodwork. She had pulled her baseball cap down low to shield her eyes, and was absentmindedly staring out the window. She wasn't paying attention to the scenery flying past. Instead, she was lost in thought, again.
Eventually, she let out a sigh and turned back into her seat, only to look directly into Kongou's grinning face.
"Jesus Christ!" Nick exclaimed, flinching.
"A dollar for your thoughts, destroyer-san," Kongou said, blatantly ignoring Nick's surprised expression.
It took half a second for NIck to get her racing heart under control. She still wasn't the best when it came to surprises. "Damn inflation," she deadpanned a moment later. Kongou continued to grin, but cocked her head in confusion at the joke. "Penny," Nick explained, "It's a penny for your thoughts."
"Oh," Kongou replied.
"To answer your question, I was trying to figure out just why you dragged me along," Nick raised a hand to indicate the train, "Just where exactly are we going?"
"It's a secret, dess," Kongou replied, bouncing in her seat.
Nick blinked several times at the now vibrating battleship. She didn't know why, but was suddenly scared for some reason.
Kongou cast a quick glance around the car, then leaned in close so only Nick could hear her next words, "We're going shopping, dess!"
"Shopping," Nick deadpanned in reply, "The big secret is we're going shopping?"
"Don't tell Teitoku," Kongou said, nodding, "It's a surprise!"
"How is that a surprise?" Nick exclaimed, a little too loudly. Several of the other riders shot angry looks at the loud American. The destroyer quickly sank into her seat.
Kongou found the whole scene hilarious, and was hiding her face behind an open hand.
"Is there something we're looking for in particular?" Nick asked, in a more hushed tone.
"Of course," Kongou replied, "Presents." She raised a hand to waggle a finger in front of Nick's face, "Presents for Teitoku."
"Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be a long day?" Nick muttered, then tried to sink even farther into her chair.
Commander Shimada had learned many things during his long career in the service. Never assume you know more than someone else. Never blow off a career NCO. Never stick your ass out for anyone or anything. Never blame someone else for your mistakes, and never, ever, keep an Admiral waiting. They usually had a lot of work to do, and if one called you in for a "talk" there was probably a damn good reason for it.
So when Jack Shimada got a phone call last night asking for him to come in, he made damn sure he was in the Admiral's office first thing the next morning. He had managed to arrive before the Admiral, and now had nothing to do but wait. He was sitting in the outer office, scanning through recent news on his phone. The only other person in the room was a dour faced, middle aged yeoman too busy tapping away at a computer to even acknowledge Shimada.
The first time Shimada saw the Admiral, he was in the process of slamming the outer door closed. He stormed into his office without even giving Shimada a second glance. "Is he always like that?" Shimada asked the yeoman, who only replied with a shrug.
A second later, he got his answer when the Admiral bellowed, "Commander, get your ass in here!"
"I wouldn't keep him waiting, sir," the yeoman remarked in a lazy drawl.
"I figured." With a sigh, Shimada stepped into the office and came face to face with Rear Admiral Richard Howe.
Howe was an intense little man with wiry hair and thick glasses. He looked more like a college professor than a warrior, but despite his looks, he was in charge of operations for all of 7th Fleet. A ship didn't move in the 7th Fleet's area of operations without Admiral Howe's order. This also meant he had been saddled with most of the fallout from the kanmusu situation. Up till now he had been pretty receptive to their situation, but that may no longer be the case.
Howe sucked in a long breath through his teeth, and then threw a file folder across the desk. Shimada almost didn't catch the folder when it hit his chest. "Mind explaining what this is all about?"
Shimada quickly flipped through the papers stuffed into the folder. Most were requisition slips he had filled out yesterday, all of them related to Goto's most recent discovery.
"One hundred pounds of cordite powder. A hundred gallons of special fuel oil. Two pallets of sheet steel?" Howe's tone grew more skeptical with each item on the list. 'What in the hell are you planning to do with all this?"
"Sir, I detailed this in my report," Shimada tried to explain.
"That report, Commander," Howe interrupted, "Read like something ripped from a bad anime. I'll concede these kanmusu exist, and should be used, but summoning them with a sketchy sounding ritual? Do you know what would happen if I sent that request to the fleet commander?"
"I didn't know how else to describe it," Shimada replied, trying hard to keep his voice level.
Howe stared at him for several more seconds, before allowing a long, exasperated breath to escape. "Jesus Christ, Commander, I'm trying to keep an open mind about this thing, but stuff like this doesn't make it easy."
"Sir, is this what you wanted to talk about?" Shimada asked, slowly slipping the folder back onto Admiral Howe's desk.
"I can't give you those stocks," Howe snapped, "I'm having a hell of a time divvying what I do have to the deployed ships, and the damn Air Force can't seem to get their asses in gear. Even with all those converted airliners."
Shimada gave a shallow nod. He was well aware of the supply issues. With the sea lanes cut, it was becoming next to impossible to ship goods into and out of Japan. The US Air Force was doing their best to pick up the slack with their huge transports, but there was just too much stuff. Several major airlines had donated their unused aircraft for the duration, but even with the extra cargo space, they were only barely able to meet demands.
"I get enough crap about your little side show as it is. If you haven't noticed, Commander, there are people in the chain of command who think it's a waste of time."
"The battleship admirals rise again," Shimada muttered, and then immediately regretted the outburst.
"Excuse me?" Howe barked, anger clear in his voice.
"Sir, I am merely drawing a connection between the current situation and the feud between battleship and carrier admirals of WWII," Shimada explained.
A conflicted look crossed Howe's face, "Things aren't that simple."
Jack Shimada was getting pretty damn tired of playing politics when it came to the girls. They needed to focus on fighting the Abyssals, not each other. He didn't care what the other senior officers thought of his little program, but Admiral Howe was the one in charge of his supplies and personnel. Shimada couldn't afford to let Howe be a silent enemy to the kanmusu program. If he was going to stonewall it, Shimada figured it would be better to get things out in the open. He was probably going to wind up on someone's shit list for this, but it had to be said. If he could make a powerful ally here and now, then so much the better.
"Sir, I completely understand if you think my program is a waste of time. If you want, I will tender my resignation within the hour and turn sole leadership of the program back over to the Japanese. But sir, I would prefer to have that information up front. Getting stuck up in office politics six weeks down the road will only hurt everyone involved." Howe stared at Shimada with an enraged look.
'Good job Jack, you let your wiseass mouth run away again." Shimada tensed involuntarily in preparation for the ass chewing he knew was about to happen. To his surprise, Admiral Howe remained silent for a long time, a look of intense concentration on his face.
When he did speak, his voice seethed with anger, "Commander, you are out of line."
Shimada managed to keep his face neutral, but his spirits fell. Things were pointing more and more to the idea that Admiral Howe was in the 'kanmusu are useless' camp. "I apologize sir, but I am sick of getting the runaround."
"I currently have missions for about twice the number of ships I actually have. The few that are still combat effective are being stretched to the absolute breaking point. And then CINCPAC orders my only full strength DESRON to make a run to Pearl Harbor for God knows why." Howe pulled his glasses off then rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I need to keep all my options open. I can't afford to overlook any assets, no matter how unconventional. Keep your requests within reason, Commander, and I will do my best to fulfill them."
That stunned Shimada. He stood speechless for several seconds. He had been convinced Howe was going to order him away from the girls. Finally, he croaked, "It was so I could try to summon a girl."
"Excuse me?" Howe replied, confused.
"Those requisitions, I was going to try to summon a girl. We still don't know why it worked the first time, so I wanted some extra materials to experiment with."
"I assume that's why you want the band?"
"A hunch as well, yes sir," Shimada nodded. Howe drummed his fingers on the desk for several seconds in contemplation.
"I can authorize a hundred pounds of each item," he announced, "It will be up to the supply officer whether you get it."
"Yes sir. Thank you sir," Shimada replied, a feeling of relief washing through his body. "Is that all, sir?"
"For now," Howe replied, then waved Shimada out of the room. As he opened the door, Howe called, "Don't make waves, Commander. I can't shield you from everything."
Shimada jerked his head in a shallow nod, before pulling the door closed behind him. He had a lot of work to take care of now. Hopefully his attempt would be as successful as Goto's. Heaven knew they needed some good news right about now. It seemed that nothing was going right for the Navy. Shimada just hoped that reality would refrain from throwing another curveball, at least for a little while.
-[]-[]-[]-
Office of Naval Intelligence
Suitland, MD
When Admiral Steven Davies stepped into his office, he hadn't expected to see the Chief of Naval Operations sitting behind his desk. He was so surprised at the Admiral's sudden appearance, that it was almost a minute before Davies asked, "How may I help you, sir?"
"Have you seen this month's copy of the Proceedings, Admiral?" the Admiral asked, thoroughly confusing Davies.
"No," he replied, racking his brain for an explanation to the question.
"Then do you have an explanation for this?" Davies' stomach dropped. Judging by the Admiral's tone, he was pissed.
Without another word, the Admiral tossed a manila envelope onto the desk. Davies wasted no time fiddling with the clasp, deciding instead to just tear the top off. Inside there was a single magazine, a copy of the Naval Institute Proceedings dated last week. That on the surface was completely normal. What struck Davies was the image emblazoned on the cover.
A young, red haired girl wearing what appeared to be the major components of a ship strapped to her body was standing between two officers. From the background of the picture, Davies guessed it had been taken aboard a ship.
It didn't take a genius to realize why the CNO had made the trip down from the Pentagon, and the tagline printed across the top of the cover only served to hammer that point home, "Kanmusu in the Modern Navy."
Davies stood in silence for a long moment, attempting to gather his thoughts. He didn't know anything about this. The CNO probably knew more. "Sir, I don't know where this came from."
"The article--which is well done might add--was written by the DESRON 23 commodore. Apparently a few destroyers showed up and attached themselves to him. The picture came from a photographer's mate aboard the Halsey."
"Sir, I swear, I knew nothing about this," Davies repeated, tossing the magazine back onto the desk.
"Apparently someone didn't get the memo about keeping this whole thing under wraps," the CNO bristled. It was painfully obvious that the man was on the brink of exploding.
"We never said it was classified," Davies replied, "And honestly I never expected there to be more of them. From what Commander Shimada has been reporting, they're having a hell of time figuring out how they even got here."
"Well whatever the cause, the kanmusu are in the public eye now," the CNO said, coldly, "It took less than ten minutes for that story to make the rounds on the internet. I've been deflecting calls from the press all morning. This story is about to break, Admiral, and we need to make damn sure we know what to say when it does."
"Aye sir," Davies replied, "But isn't that a job for the Public Affairs Office?"
"Oh yes," the CNO said, fixing Davies with a cold stare, "But you are going to tell them what to say, and then, you are going to run damage control."
"Sir, with respect, make a unit to deal with this. Find a good officer to be its commander, and assign all the kanmusu to him," Davies suggested.
"That may be our only option at this point. I doubt the press will buy the 'We don't know' routine any longer." With a nod, the CNO stood up from the desk and strode past Davies. "Handle this, Admiral," he said, and then walked out the door.
Davies grabbed the magazine off his desk and stared at the cover for a long moment. If his guess was right, he was going to have one hell of a workload for the next few days. With a sigh, he tossed it back onto the desk and shouted, "Chief, get in here!"
-[]-[]-[]-
Nick liked to think nothing could surprise her anymore. After more than thirty years of service, several dozen combat actions, and more medals than she could count, she thought that she would be ready for anything. However, her time in service had done little to prepare her for a certain hyperactive expat battleship— to say, Kongou.
Kongou sat one row ahead of Nick, excitedly jabbering away about something or other with a total stranger. Nick was doing her best to blend into the woodwork. She had pulled her baseball cap down low to shield her eyes, and was absentmindedly staring out the window. She wasn't paying attention to the scenery flying past. Instead, she was lost in thought, again.
Eventually, she let out a sigh and turned back into her seat, only to look directly into Kongou's grinning face.
"Jesus Christ!" Nick exclaimed, flinching.
"A dollar for your thoughts, destroyer-san," Kongou said, blatantly ignoring Nick's surprised expression.
It took half a second for NIck to get her racing heart under control. She still wasn't the best when it came to surprises. "Damn inflation," she deadpanned a moment later. Kongou continued to grin, but cocked her head in confusion at the joke. "Penny," Nick explained, "It's a penny for your thoughts."
"Oh," Kongou replied.
"To answer your question, I was trying to figure out just why you dragged me along," Nick raised a hand to indicate the train, "Just where exactly are we going?"
"It's a secret, dess," Kongou replied, bouncing in her seat.
Nick blinked several times at the now vibrating battleship. She didn't know why, but was suddenly scared for some reason.
Kongou cast a quick glance around the car, then leaned in close so only Nick could hear her next words, "We're going shopping, dess!"
"Shopping," Nick deadpanned in reply, "The big secret is we're going shopping?"
"Don't tell Teitoku," Kongou said, nodding, "It's a surprise!"
"How is that a surprise?" Nick exclaimed, a little too loudly. Several of the other riders shot angry looks at the loud American. The destroyer quickly sank into her seat.
Kongou found the whole scene hilarious, and was hiding her face behind an open hand.
"Is there something we're looking for in particular?" Nick asked, in a more hushed tone.
"Of course," Kongou replied, "Presents." She raised a hand to waggle a finger in front of Nick's face, "Presents for Teitoku."
"Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be a long day?" Nick muttered, then tried to sink even farther into her chair.
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- Location
- North Carolina
Amazing chapter! Very well done and I am liking how politics are really beginning to become a screwball, with two sides beginning to form.
Sir_Braazmiir
Tiefling Paladin
- Location
- Wherever I am
When the politicians stick their proverbial dicks in the military, nothing good really happens. Just look at the guy who demanded the standards' guns be 14-inchers, rather than the 16-inchers the blueprints initially called for.
- Location
- North Carolina
Yeah, that's why I am never going to do politics
PAGDTenno
Verified Warmind. Probably on fire.
- Location
- South Carolina
There's a reason my default opinion of politicians is "throatpunch" As well as my default idea for "Best use of time spent around a politician".
Spectre
eternal servant to the Fire/EMS gods
- Location
- NY
as a firefighter I can say that it's more than just the military they screw up.
Burning Baron
This position needs more entrenching.
- Location
- In here, not out there.
The German Sixth Army found this out the hard way. The Luftwaffe promised to airlift all the material they needed. In reality, not even a significant fraction was delivered. But, because the Fat Bastard didn't want to lose face, he kept telling the rest of High Command that he, Hermann Goering, would save the Sixth. The Army didn't need to mount a breakthrough.
- Location
- Pacific NW
Just imagine if the Fat Bastard had pulled an Elvis in 1940.... the Sixth Army might have been allowed to bug out before getting encircled.
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Hopefully the AMC performs a bit better here. American logistics to the rescue, even if they have to make due with modified airliners.
But as always with a setting like this, priory number one is getting the sea lanes reopened. Airplanes are great, but nothing beats a loaded freighter.
But as always with a setting like this, priory number one is getting the sea lanes reopened. Airplanes are great, but nothing beats a loaded freighter.
Lady Darkhound
Haha, tanks!
- Location
- My very own personal hell
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Nothing beats a loaded freighter? Wrong. Abyssal raiders beat loaded freighters all the time.
Breakaway25
All hail the Mighty Tomcat
- Location
- Stuck on the Quarterdeck
Now the problem becomes, "How do we beat the raiders?"
I'm in the overwhelming firepower camp, but we'll see.