Kancolle: The Iron Dynasty

[ijnfleetadmiral]

Goto is...dead? And Kongo did not go uber-Dark-Side, tear apart every Abyssal in sight with her bare hands, and drink their blood out of their empty skulls like a Japanese Viking? Interesting...

 

[theJMPer]

Alaska's first order of business was making sure her oilers were well-cared for. They'd kept her in good supply during her run, but even she was peckish from such a long journey. She could only imagine how hungry her supply train was, let alone how tired. She needn't have worried of course. Mutsu had seen to it personally that they were all provided with hearty meals and warm beds. Several destroyers—mostly Kagerous but one Shiratsuyu—had offered themselves as living plushies.

She could tell the oilers appreciated the gesture. After weeks in sub-infested waters, it was hard for them to sleep without an escort nearby. She would've happily tasked some of her Fletchers, but the Japanese destroyers had been happy to serve. She couldn't blame them. An oiler's chest was the softest pillow you'd ever experience.

After one last check to make sure there were no loose ends, Alaska headed for the dining room. It was a big room with a big table stout enough to stop shrapnel and bomb debris. Or stand up to the load of a full-course kanmusu banquet, which was probably a more straining test for a table. A steward directed her to an open seat across from Guam and next to a gorgeous but very small Japanese warship.

She was a cruiser, but only just. So light in displacement she was closer to an overgrown destroyer than even Lou or Frisco. But she was so pretty. She glowed with kind maternal softness, the kind of sweet aura that Sister Sara put out back home. "Jintsuu," she stood, only exaggerating the height difference between her and Alaska, and offered a polite curtsy. "Second wife of the Shogun, chief adviser, and harem manager."

"Alaska Young," said Alaska. "Captain, US— wait, harem?"

Jintsuu nodded. "A man of his caliber draws the fire of many warships."

Alaska didn't need to look to know what her sister was doing. "No," she held up a finger to Guam.

"You're no fun."

Alaska shook her head and settled into her seat. The wood creaked, but only a little and she was able to pull herself up to the table without much issue. "Where, um… is Richardson?"

Jintsuu blushed a fetching shade of pink. Alaska could see why Richardson married her. "He was called away. His… wife is stuck."

Alaska blinked. "Stuck?"

Jintsuu nodded. "Again."

"Again?" Alaska tilted her head. "Is this a common occurrence?"

Jintsuu shrugged. "It's more frequent than you'd think."

Alaska filed that away for later contemplation. "Huh."

"Hey, Jintsuu," asked Frisco, who was sitting a little further down the table. "How many wives does the shogun have, anyway?"

"Six," said Jintsuu. She chuckled a little under her breath. "I have heard rumors that Ooyodo's angling for number seven."

"Noted," said Alaska. It was nice to tap into the local cruiser information network.

"I'm not sure how things are done in America," admitted Jintsuu. "But if you'd like to seal our pending alliance with marriage, I'm sure that—"

"Yes?" Guam as on the edge of her seat. "Yes, marriage, yes."

"Sis…" Alaska shook her head.

"What?" Guam shrugged. "I'm doing my part to further international trans-pacific diplomacy. Wasn't that our mission?"

"Technically…yes," sighed Alaska.

"See?"

"Is… is there something I'm missing?" asked the little orange cruiser.

Alaska shook her head. "My sister's been a little ring-crazy ever since I got married."

"Hey," said Guam. "You try being the only large cruiser in human history without a ring."

"Sis…"

"Excuse me." Jintsuu covered her mouth with the back of her hand and cleared her throat. "I thought you were battlecruisers."

Slowly the two sisters rounded on Jintsuu. "No," said Alaska.

"We're large cruisers," explained Guam.

"Big difference."

"Huge."

Jintsuu blinked. "What's the difference?"

"Oh," Alaska smiled. "See, we're not battlecruisers. We're just cruisers."

"But bigger," added Guam.

"With thicker armor."

"And bigger guns."

Jintsuu's mouth slowly jacked open and her already narrow eyes got thinner still. "Uh huh."

"Yeah," said Alaska. "It's really simple when you get into it."

"Excuse me." Before either ship could say more. Another voice sounded from the direction of the doors. It was a gentle, demure, ladylike voice. The kind you'd expect from an elegant lady of the house. Except that it was so thunderously loud the concussion hit Alaska in the chest like a sledgehammer. She was used the feeling, of course. Jersey was louder still. But to hear such volume paired with such refined femininity…

Alaska pivoted in her seat, but she already knew the source of the voice. A magnificently tall battleship gracefully ducked through the door and unfolded herself into the dining room. She loomed over all of them, even Alaska had to look up at her. A crisp white shirt hugged her eighteen inch rifles and a belly fractionally plumper than ONI specs indicated. A necklace of heavy braided gold lay between her breasts, and her forged iron collar bore an imperial chrysanthemum prouder than any other.

"Yamato," Alaska said with a smile.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," said the towering super-battleship. She gently caressed her infinitesimally swollen stomach. The anchors on her side-ties swung gently as she walked to her seat. Behind her, a much shorter Admiral Richardson closed the doors then darted over to lend a hand. It was a pointless gesture of course, if a battleship that big was falling over, she was falling over. But Alaska could tell Yamato appreciated the thought.

"It's no trouble," said Alaska. She did a few quick calculations in her head. "I'm guessing… twelve weeks?"

Yamato blushed, gaped, and then giggled. "Thirteen, actually." She ran a hand over her middle. "I'm surprised you noticed."

Alaska just shrugged. "I'm Alaska by the way."

"It is a pleasure to meet you." Yamato suddenly clutched her middle.

Alaska knew the look. Her twins had been beyond impatient whenever their dinner was delayed. "Kicking already?"

Yamato nodded. "Eager for dinner."

"Then let's eat," said Richardson.

Dinner wasn't what Alaska was used too. Lots of fish, and of course rice, but that was fine by her. Even when she'd been pregnant she hadn't been a picky eater. Her dinner was filling and made with love, which was enough for her.

"So," asked Frisco. "I've been meaning to ask… you are you Shogun? You're—"

"Gaijin?" Richardson laughed. "That's the reason, actually. And back then I wasn't called the shogun."

Alaska leaned in. She wanted to hear more, but she was too hungry to express so in words right now.

"The Abyss hit China and Japan first," said Richardson. "Angling to take out seventh fleet and the PLAN as quick as possible." He stopped for a moment and gave Yamato's hand a gentle squeeze. If it hadn't been for the shipgirls, Japan would've suffered the same grim fate. "But the rest of the region knew that once we were out of the picture they were next. And when we lost contact—"

He stopped again. Overcome by a sudden crash of emotion, the realization that contact wasn't all they'd lost. "Uh… when we lost contact with the states, we knew we needed supplies from a more local source."

"A co-prosperity sphere," said Guam.

"Yeah," Richardson shook his head. "You can imagine how well that would've gone down. We sold it as a mutual defense pact, a coalition of equals with an American in charge. We might have baggage in the region, but nothing like Imperial Japan."

"But…" Alaska cocked her head. "Shogun?"

"I lead a military coalition," said Richardson. "On paper the Japanese Prime Minster was in charge of the country, but my word went a hell of a lot further than his. Someone saw the connection. And then…"

Jintsuu giggled. She'd heard this story before.

"Mutsu happened." Richardson shook his head. That woman was the cause of—and solution to—all his earthly woes.

 

[CompassJimbo]

The plot thickens...

[=]​

Sasebo Station mills along as usual as I help Haguro off the train, her foot slowly settling to the floor after a day and a half of being cooped up in a train car. At least we get first class seating and service for our troubles. Still, Richardson needed us here, and I eye the briefcase cuffed to my wrist, knowing that its contents would be of concern to him.


Abbie wasn't sitting idle, and we'd need to do something about it before she hit us or Anchorage, which I suspect either held out, or was recently liberated.


My mind continues to churn as guards salute me and I return the favor, before we climb onto the heavy-duty trucks. Ash and the kids get one, while Haguro needs her own, which I decide to share with her. She needs the support, after all.


She looks down at her swollen belly, rubbing at it while letting out a low hum. My hand joins hers, feeling the firmness and the subtle motions of our child within. Her head leans into my shoulder as a happy-sounding sigh escapes her, all while a smile creeps across her face. It's a look I'll always love, as my heart skips a beat, and I take her hand.


"You doing alright, Haguro?" I ask.


She nods, before gently squeezing. "I think I have a name if our child is a girl. Hanako."


I smile. 'Hanako Hunter' does have a nice ring to it. "It's a good name." I tell her. "And if it's a boy?"


"I was thinking Hiro."


I let out a contented sigh. "Either way, our child is going to be every bit as wonderful and precious as you are."


"I hope so."


The rest of the ride to Fleet Activities Sasebo is spent in silence, the two of us enjoying one another's company. We're the only vehicles on the road here, and everyone else is on foot or on bikes every time I peer out the back. I suppose this whole thing has helped a fair bit with certain issues, if nothing else.


Fleet Activities Sasebo comes up a few minutes later, guards in their positions, rifles slung to their shoulders and in as good a condition as any. One of the precious few things we aren't short on is 5.56 NATO. The whole place is hustling, though, as people practically run to and from their posts, and the truck comes to a halt.


I can feel it in the air, that buzz when something big has happened, but not the usual sense of dread that usually hangs over it all. There's something else. A sense of… hope.


And as I take a look out at the harbor, I realize why. The haze grey forms of American ships, sitting proudly at anchor, the centerpiece being one of the more unique ships ever fielded: USS Alaska. And then it hits me. Someone managed to get a message home. Home stood. America was alive. My family was alive. My home wasn't a tattered ruin. And those I cared about would know that I, too, had made it through the storm.


Tears well up in my eyes as I faintly see the form of Ashigara rushing up to me, keeping me from sinking to my knees. Haguro follows, as do my daughters. "It's okay, Jim." Ash tells me. "I'm happy about this, too."


"Why are you crying, papa?" Minami asks, her voice worried.


I sniffle, before lifting her up and embracing her. "Someone managed to call home." I shakily tell her. "Those are my country's warships, ones that haven't been here in years. You might actually get to talk to grandma and grandpa soon!"


"Will they like me?" She asks.


"And me, too?" Midori adds.


"They'll love you both, and your half-brother or sister." I sniffle again, before setting Minami down and patting Haguro's swollen belly. "I can tell you that for certain." I'm unsure how mom and dad would feel about the fact that I took not one wife, but four, though. And I know there's two back in Sapporo who would love to have spot number five, as well. Clearing my eyes, I set them on the HQ building and wave everyone along, CACs in hand.


The main lobby is definitely abuzz with activity, as everyone shows an extra spring in their step, or have an actual smile on their faces. One word is on every American's mind here: Home.


My daughters see one of Richardson's kids and bolt off after her, and I shake my head. Hopefully those three wouldn't raise too much hell. Ash and Haguro take a seat, the latter cradling herself as the chair actually bends from the weight.


"Could've sworn we had heavier-duty ones around here." I remark, eliciting a small laugh from the two.


"I'll manage." Haguro replies, brown eyes looking into mine. "It's not as bad as the ones at our dinner table."


I groan and pinch my nose. "Don't remind me…" The two laugh, even though it took a week to find new chairs. I suppose Ash's pregnancies weakened them, and Haguro was… well, not the straw…


"There's a reason we prefer traditional cushions." Ashigara says, raising a finger towards me. "You might want to consider that when you have children with Nachi and Myoukou."


I cross my arms and shake my head. "I'll cross that bridge when we get to it, but right now, it's Haguro and our new guests."


Hopefully I wouldn't have to tour them around. There wasn't much of our base to see, anyway. The only truly interesting thing was the distilleries that Hibiki had set up, ensuring that the Russians forced to call Hokkaido home could stay sane after Vladivostok. Hell, it even supplied Richardson's liquor cabinet. Shame there was no wine, though.


"Admiral Richardson wishes to see you." I hear Ooyodo speak up from behind me. Turning around, I can see the Goddess of Logistics plucking away at her tablet, only giving me a cursory glance before refocusing on her work.


"Of course."


I kiss Ash and Haguro goodbye and follow the raven-haired secretary to Richardson's office, briefcase in hand. When the door opens, I find him speaking to a white-haired woman, no doubt Alaska herself.


"Admiral. Alaska, I presume?" I open up, snapping to salute.


"At ease, Hunter, and yes, you assume correctly." Richardson replies. "And now you know why I called you here. We somehow got a message through the miasma, though it seems to be a fluke, fortunate as it is." His eyebrow shoots up. "Though I don't remember reading that you'd be bringing gifts."


While the news that we managed to call home somehow was amazing, there's more pressing concerns in my hand. "Intelligence reports from India-Four-Hundred." I reply. "She managed to find her way to the Aleutians as part of a recon mission to Petropavlovsk and areas beyond. There's a situation developing out that way." His brows furrow, as Alaska just looks at me, no doubt disappointed that I've killed her likely-elated mood, before she cradles her belly in that tell-tale way. "I'm sorry?" I tell her.


"It's fine." She says. "I'm not sure if anyone back home knows, either."


Richardson taps his pen on the table, its clacking the only thing disturbing the silence. A deep sigh marks the end of it, as he rises and looks out his window for a moment, before facing me again, his lips forming a thin line. "Then it's a good thing everyone's here. Alaska, you can stay, since you'll need to take this with you when you return home."


"Of course, sir."


Richardson walks over to the door and locks it, no doubt silently cursing his luck. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, too," I tell him. "And it's a damn shame, since Alaska alone is the best news we've gotten."


"I don't blame you, though. Your diligence in this is why I let you have your own little kingdom." He remarks dryly. A deep sigh escapes him as he slowly sits back down, clasping his hands. "Let's hear it."


I sit the briefcase down in front of him, before grabbing the key from my pocket and undoing the cuffs, before grabbing the other key from another, hidden pocket that makes Alaska blush, perhaps the only color she gets on her skin, almost as pale as the Abyssals we fight.


It pops open, revealing the folders loaded with reports and photographs, in addition to USBs containing digital copies of the contents, alongside more that I was unable to bring along. Sonar recordings, gun camera photos, and other data that couldn't quite be packed into a briefcase.


I hand one of the folders, containing the photos, to Richardson, who opens it and looks at the pictures, their floppy sounds breaking the silence. He slowly sifts through them, eyes growing wider with each one he picks up. "This is…"


"Bad, yes." I glance over to Alaska, who also eyes the photos. She, too, is deeply concerned, eyebrows raised with each one she looks at. "Heavy construction work, suspected use of prisoner labor, and a growing fleet presence."


"They're dismantling a volcano." He says, mouth agape.


"They've been developing assets like mad. The docks they have are already hard at work."


"Those look like Japanese Treaty battleship proposals." He remarks, closely studying one of the photos. "Not the worst, but they're definitely fielding quite a few."


"There's more on the USBs," I tell him, picking one up. I examine the stick, a plain-looking dark blue one that slides. "They've got bombers, too."


"What kind?"


I sift through the photos myself, before finding one taken by one of the floatplanes. It's an airstrip under construction, and parked nearby are the skeletal forms of 4-engine bombers of some description. I grab my pen and tap it on the planes. "Unknown so far. I haven't been able to cross-reference the airframes with anything in the books. Could be a new type entirely."


"And where…" Alaska gulps. "Where do you think they'll hit?"


I look at her, boring into those icy eyes. "My bet? Anchorage. They might also attempt landings at Nome, too." My gaze shifts towards the giant map of the Pacific hanging on the wall, with all sorts of pushpins marking everything from fishing spots to suspected Abyssal strongholds. Richardson hands me a box, and I put a red one in what was once Dutch Harbor. "I suspect they're ultimately after the oilfields in and around Barrow and Prudhoe. They might assault it directly, but Four-Hundred noted minimal patrols north of the Aleutians. What kind of assets do we have protecting those rigs, Alaska?"


"Just some cruisers and destroyers."


"Fuck…" I groan, my hand meeting my face. "We need to hit them fast and hard. Anything less, and we lose Anchorage and see Seattle and Vancouver under threat!"


I lean back against the wall, while someone knocks on the door. "Who is it?" Richardson calls.


"It's Jintsuu." Comes the reply. The Admiral steps up and unlocks the door for her, waving her along before re-locking it. "I overheard something about Seattle and Vancouver?"


I straighten myself, before facing her. "Abbie's no longer sitting idly. One of my subs reported that someone's setting up shop in the Aleutians, which puts Anchorage and the oil fields up at Barrow and Prudhoe at risk. Only assets we seem to have there are some random cruisers and their escorts."


"Oh, goodness!" She gasps, eyes widening. "How long ago did you receive this report?"


"Three days ago, just before the Admiral summoned me."


I can see Alaska fidgeting somewhat, hands just barely wringing along her stomach. She was in for a rough ride, poor girl. Richardson just looks at the map, as I step aside, no doubt trying to think of a basic plan of attack. Jintsuu does the same, her gaze more focused as she steps over to the Admiral's desk, and looks over the photos.


"It appears we may have some time to plan this one out, and perhaps try and coordinate with American forces." Jintsuu remarks. "This will be difficult considering that the miasma is still interfering with communications."


"We take out that base, though, and our northern route is more-or-less secure, as well." I point out. It was actually one of the reasons I had I-400 poke up there. "Which gives us all the more incentive to uproot the bitch from her throne."


Even with the risks of this operation, I could feel a fire rising within me. Home is once again in reach after a decade of this bullshit. A small smile creeps onto my face, knowing that I can see my family and my house again.


Mom. Dad. Cathy. I'll be back before you know it.

 

[Admiral_Corgi]

[=]​

Kentucky sighed as she came to a stop, just a little over 5 miles offshore of the coastal town of Bavaro and a tad over 20 miles from what used to be the town of La Otra Banda. Now though the town had become a major Abyssal staging ground.

Kentucky had received initial targeting information from one of Colonel Hate's forward Observers as she and her group had departed San Juan before sunrise and received it once more when she was in position. Now as morning was well underway all she needed to do was wait for the order to commence bombardment from the forward observer. She didn't didn't have to wait long.

"Kentucky this is Alpha one niner, Commence Fire Mission." Said the somewhat hoarse voice of Alpha 1-9 in Kentucky's Radio room. A split second later all nine of her 16" Mark 7 guns opened fired. Sending nine rounds of HC shells flying inland towards the former town.

As her guns dropped to their loading angles, Kentucky knew that the first salvo would still be in the air by the time she reloaded. As her main battery finished reloading, she waited for almost a full ten seconds for Alpha 1-9 to give her adjustment of fire.

"Fire Mission, Drop 200 yards" Said Alpha 1-9 over the radio. Kentucky made the smallest adjustments before letting loose another devastating salvo of high explosive fire. Again she waited for her guns to reload and for confirmation by the forward observer that she had the range dialed in.

As she waited she glanced around and noticed that Gearing and Allen M. Sumner were circling about 6000 yards from her position. Further out she saw the Corgis of Squadron 9 motoring a ring around herself and the two DDs a further 4000 yards out. The dogs were the tiniest specks against the horizon but her radar told her that the dogs were holding a textbook picket line.

"Fire Mission. Add 75 yards, Fire for effect!" Alpha 1-9 said over the radio.

A rather vicious smile spread across Kentucky's face as she opened fired once more. Now however, she didn't stop firing. As quickly as high capacity shells could be loaded into each of her nine guns they were sent screaming some 20 miles down range to smash the Abyssal staging grounds.

While Kentucky couldn't see the results of her work directly, she noticed a thin sickly plume of black smoke rising up in the far distance as she kept firing. Only occasionally making tiny adjustments to her fire as requested by the forward observer to bombard untouched portions of the former town turned staging ground.

By the time she received the cease fire order half an hour later. The distant smoke plume had grown somewhat larger. Which spoke volumes of the size of the inferno that must've have been created by the bombardment.

"Much appreciated Kentucky. Hate's Devil Dogs will mop up and secure the area. Alpha One-Niner Out." Alpha 1-9 said over the radio before the line went dead.

"Go get em Marines." Kentucky said as quietly to herself as she could manage before she started moving full steam ahead. "Okay Girls, we're done here. Onto the rendezvous point." Kentucky said over the radio to Gearing, Allen M. Sumner and squadron 9.

Gearing and Allen M. Sumner's replies were almost all but drowned out by the excited barking of Squadron 9 as they all moved to form up on the battleship. The dogs got a quick top up by the destroyers before they moved into V formation roughly six thousand yards ahead. While Gearing and Allen M. Sumner steamed a thousand yards off of Kentucky's port and starboard sides respectively.

Checking her Chronometer, Kentucky noted that the time was 11:15. Quickly doing the math in her head, at their current speed, her little group would arrive at the rendezvous point in about 17 hours. Almost all of that time would be steaming through hostile waters. However she had confidence in her escorts to keep her safe. Though that didn't mean she would drop her guard.

[=]​

Beyond slowing once to top up the dogs of squadron 9, the last 17 hours had passed relatively uneventful beyond the air search radar picking up a contact at extreme range for a minute before vanishing. A slight change in course was made but it didn't drastically affect their arrival time to their destination.

It was strange to say the least that there hadn't been any resistance as her group had traveled through the Miasma, slightly worrying even. Though Kentucky figured it was partly due the savaging the Abyssals in the region suffered last month at her hands when they made yet another attempt to sink her.

Losing 8 cruisers, 4 battlecruisers and 6 destroyers must've hurted Abyssal force projection capabilities far more than what anyone realized. Kentucky made note of that as her group steamed wide lazy circles in the rendezvous location.

Checking her chronometer again, Kentucky noted the time was 0455. Hints of pre-dawn light filtered in the skies around her and her group. She was worried about Flint, Wichita and squadron 3, their mission was risky as hell and the chances of things going catastrophically wrong were very high.

As the minutes dragged by at painfully slow rate, Kentucky felt her worry building towards a near fever pitch. So to keep herself from going stir-crazy from worrying she walked circles in front of her foremost turret.

She had been walking circles on her deck for about 20 minutes when her radar pinged a contact at max range. In a instant she was on high alert and began training her guns in the direction of the contact. As did Gearing, Allen M. Sumner and squadron 9.

"Girls. Don't get jumpy, wait for positive ID before firing." Kentucky said as the number of radar contacts grew and came closer. Though given the speed of the group, roughly 16 knots, she was starting to get hopeful. However she couldn't let her guard down until she had a positive confirmation that these were friendlies.

Whatever tension Kentucky and her group had melted away completely a few minutes later as a sound drifted across the waves. A sweet droning sound drifted across the waves, someone was playing bagpipes loud and proud. Kentucky knew it was Flint, and if she was playing this tune on the set of Bagpipes some marines gave her a few years back. That only meant one thing, their mission was a success.

The Miasma ahead parted and revealed Flint at the front of a convoy with the dogs of squadron 3 motoring a few hundred yards to either side of her. With her optics, Kentucky could see Flint's shimmering mid-back length silver hair catching the first rays of the rising sun. The deep blue of her eyes and the sheer happiness that radiated from them. As well as the slightly exaggerated swishing of her hips and pleated skirt as she played the pipes.

Looking past Flint, Kentucky could see over a dozen other ships behind the light cruiser in a rather close formation. A couple cargo ships, a few Steel-Hulled Auxiliary ships, including what she suspected was some new type of troop ship and a what looked like a DDG. However it wasn't the sight of those ships that made the Iowa grin wildly, though they did make her smile.

What made Kentucky grin wildly was the sight of the ship girls escorting the convoy. More in particular, the battleship she saw with them "Alabama! It's so good to see you again!" Kentucky's dusky contralto thundered out across the water as she closed in on the shorter yet curvy South-Dakota Class Battleship.

Alabama, for almost a minute, had a look of confusion on her face before recognition fully kicked in. Just as Kentucky closed the last of the distance and pulled the short yet curvy blonde into a hug. "Kentucky! I didn't recognize ya for a bit there. Hon you've certainly grown since the last I saw ya." Alabama said after Kentucky released her and deftly turned about to steam besides her.

"Well Bama getting married and having a few kids does that to ya." Kentucky said with a hearty chuckle. It was then that she looked and really noticed who else was with Alabama. Kentucky did a double take when she saw a carrier with a familiar mop of dark pink hair.

"Is that Ranger?" Kentucky asked while watching Ranger chat with Wichita, Minneapolis, Chester and San Juan.

"Mmhmm, that's Ranger alright. She filled out nicely didn't she?" Alabama said with a smile.

"I guess you really did put some meat on her bones with your cooking huh?"

"...Maybe."

The two battleships looked at one another for a moment before sharing a laugh together. Their laughter slowly settled after a few minutes as the convoy shifted formation. Alabama, Murphy and Brown took up the rear of the formation. Ranger, Minneapolis, Meade, Barton and Chester took up positions towards the center of the Convoy with Ranger being in the Convoy line proper.

While Kentucky herself had Gearing, Allen M. Sumner and Flint taking up positions at the front of the Convoy. Wichita, San Juan and what Kentucky learned was a actually an FFG named after her Husband; covered potential weak areas of the AA Coverage at the rear of the Convoy. PT Squadrons 3 and 9 covered the remaining gaps in AA Coverage and screening at the front half of the convoy. While PT Squadrons 26 and 30 covered the gaps in the back half of the convoy.

It was about 0545 by the time everyone had gotten into formation and cruised at a steady 17 knots. Kentucky knew it'd be more or less a full day before they pulled into San Juan Harbor. She hoped that the return trip would be as quiet as the initial trip.

[=]
​

About 27 hours later, Kentucky could see the harbor of San Juan appear on the horizon. While everyone pulled through. They weren't completely unscathed however. The battleship winced as wave struck her portside just so. The Abyssals threw what must've been a hastily mustered force at them about ten hours into the return trip. Considering that it consisted of a half dozen destroyers, four heavy cruisers and three light cruisers.

While the Surface element was rather simple to deal with between herself, Bama and the Cruisers. One of the Abyssal heavy cruisers managed to strike one of the cargo ships with a shell before she blew it out of the water. Thankfully all the hit had accomplished was demolishing the freighter's chain locker. Though it could have been much worse since the boat struck was carrying ammunition amongst other things.

However while the surface element was rather easy to deal will, the land-based air attack they came under was a different matter. While Ranger's fighters and the fleet's AA took care of most of the attacking craft in relative short order. Several of the dogs from Squadrons 26 and 30 got wounded by strafing fighters. A Dive Bomber kamikazed Alabama, striking just ahead of her number 1 turret. Bama insisted she was fine after she had gotten the fire put out with help from the Destroyers but Kentucky knew that the South-Dakota class battleship was hurting from that hit.

One Torpedo bomber out of a flight of ten managed to reach weapons release when they made an attack run on the front of the convoy. Kentucky knew she could have dodged that torpedo handily but it woulda came at the cost of it striking Flint. So Kentucky angled herself so that the torpedo would strike her rather improved TDS instead of her bow.

It hurt for sure, but Kentucky always figured it was better if she took a hit that'd only inconvenience her instead of letting someone who couldn't take a hit, take one. Flint was a tough girl for sure, but that air dropped torpedo would have heavily damaged the light cruiser if it had struck her.

Beyond the two hours of the surface action and air attack. The rest of the Journey home had been mostly quiet. Though radar did pick up a periscope at long range just as they entered friendly waters and long range radio coverage again. The contact vanished from the scopes as Squadron 3 began speeding over towards it. The Sub having thought better than to stick around with a Squadron of PT Corgis bearing down on it.

Kentucky was making about 18 knots with the gash in her TDS but every minute she watched the familiar coastline of her home grow larger and larger it made the annoying sting in her side more and more tolerable. A few of the Harbor Picketts came out to greet the Convoy before they entered the Harbor proper.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I welcome you to the State of Puerto Rico~" Kentucky said cheerfully as the convoy pulled into Harbor. While Kentucky knew there'd be a party thrown for reestablishing contact with the mainland. She was more content with getting into a repair bath with Bama and the dogs as soon as possible. She directed Bama and the wounded Corgis to split off from the rest of the convoy and follow her to the part of the port where the repair baths were.

Kentucky had many questions for Bama about what's happened on the mainland in the past decade. More importantly how her sisters have been doing all these years. As she Stepped off her hull, Kentucky lead Alabama and the wounded Corgis to the repair baths. The Iowa had a great number of questions for the SoDak as well as gossip she wanted to hear about and share.

[=]​

 

[Old Iron]

* * * * *

"Dinner's ready!" proclaimed Pennsylvania from the kitchen. Following her statement were the clanking and grinding sounds of a heavy stoneware dish being pulled from an oven. "If you're not hungry, then too bad. More for everyone else."

"When was the last time you ever heard of a battleship not being hungry?" retorted Hiei in good humor as Pennsylvania marched into the dining room.

"I recall it was last week when you decided it would be a good idea to make a few alterations to that seafood stew recipe you found." Arizona tossed out as she set her napkin in her lap. That had been a special kind of disaster. The end result probably wouldn't have tasted too bad had it not been for that ungodly stench. It had also ended up with Hiei receiving the most brutal lecture about culinary experimentation she'd ever seen. Yamato did not pull her punches when it came to the kitchen.

"Please don't remind me. I haven't seen Yams that angry in a long time." Hiei let her head fall to the table with an undignified thud.

"That is your concern?"

"You've never made her angry, have you Mash? Like, really angry."

Yamashiro rolled her eyes.

"I really wish you'd stop calling me that. I know Yams would just be confusing, but there has to be something better" she grumbled while filling her glass of water. "Like Shiro or something that doesn't make me think of mashed potatoes."

Pennsylvania chuckled from the portal between the kitchen and dining room, a truly massive dish in her mitt encased hands. The smell of onions, mushrooms, chicken, and so many other delicious ingredients wafted into the room. Arizona couldn't help but let her eyes lock onto the meal, and let her own appetite roar with the other battleships in the room.

"Now I'm worried if I made enough," laughed Pennsylvania as she set the dish down onto the table. She thumbed over to Hiei with an exaggerated expression of resignation. "And you you should know by now that getting this lunatic to stop is next to impossible. I finally had to throw her out a window to get her to stop calling me Penpen."

"At this rate, I might have to do the same." Yamashiro shot a mild look at Hiei, who responded like a perfectly mature adult and stuck her tongue out, grinning.

"If you do, remember to open the window first." Arizona cut in before her sister handed over the large ladle to serve up the casserole. Pennsy's plate followed along with it. "Hiei was lucky the one she got tossed out of already was."

"Lucky me indeed. It's not fun picking glass out of your hair."

Only Hiei ever seemed to have that problem. If something broke, fell, or was otherwise bound to cause a mess, it usually found a way into the Kongou's hair in some way shape or form if she was nearby.

Amidst the seemingly endless battles, mealtime was often a rare moment of peace and anyone who could, took the time to luxuriate in it. All four battleships laughed as dinner was served up, drinks were poured, and a pleasant mood settled about the dinner table.

As Arizona mixed the casserole with the rice on her plate, she recalled the early days after the miasma had effectively cut off any chance at returning to the states. Everyone had taken it hard. Ships that were not native to Japan and anyone who still had close ties to the homeland had taken it harder than most, but her sister had been hit the worst.

The manic rage that had exploded from her already furious self could not be understated.

Excessive force and violent outbursts were only the tip of the iceberg. There were a few times where Pennsy had fallen out of position just to continue shelling a target she'd already killed. The day she put her fist through an engine block out of spite had been particularly bad and had ended with her in the brig, Mutsu with a black eye, and tens of thousands of dollars in property damage.

But now, nearly a decade later...

"By the way, who did you get to watch the kids?" Pennsylvania asked, gesturing at Arizona and Hiei with her fork.

"Jane and Shimakaze volunteered." replied Hiei. "They just finished their exams, so they claimed to have a bunch of free time."

"I still think they should have roped Kawakaze or Shigure into that." Yamashiro set her drink down with the slightest of amused expressions. "You know how much trouble they can be."

"The kids or their minders?" Pennsylvania raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

A decade later, her sister made friendly banter over a dinner she'd cooked herself while clad in a tank-top and jeans instead of haunting the mess in her uniform. The current flagship of the Imperial Southern Fleet had come a long way, for the better.

"What's that smile for, Ari?"

"Oh, nothing." she said. A sparkle in her eyes made it clear she had no intention of divulging her reasons, at least not without Mutsu or Jintsuu getting involved.

"By the way," Yamashiro said, drawing all eyes to her. "Has anyone met the detachment from America yet? I know we've all been busy..."

Arizona shook her head. "Not yet. John, Jintsuu, and Mutsu have been in meetings 24/7 with Alaska to get each other up to speed. And I know Takao and Atago have been catching up since before they even made landfall."


Pennsylvania took a drink before replying. "Mutsu took charge of that operation, so I was operating as backup. I spoke with Bellau Wood for a bit after they got to shore. And Alaska seems like a nice girl. She looks like a bit like Jintsuu if you gave her white hair and make her really tall. I just hope she's not as dangerous."

There was a chuckle all around the table. Never underestimate a traffic cone.

"She's an American large cruiser. I'm pretty sure she'll make everyone question their sanity. It's pretty much par for any cruiser." Hiei said, pushing aside her now empty plate.

Pennsylvania and Yamashiro rolled their eyes.

"Coming from a Kongou, I'm concerned now." Pennsylvania gave the empty serving dish a look. "That didn't last long at all. I should have made double, or even a triple."

"...Yamashiro ate more than anyone." Arizona noted before turning her attention to the Fusou and channeling well over a decade's worth of influence from Mutsu. "Something you want to tell us~?"

Yamashiro froze as all eyes once again turned to her, only now with more mischief in them than curiosity.

"N-no. Nothing. Nothing what-so-ever!" Yamashiro protested, face lighting up like a stoplight.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much~" teased Hiei, leaning in closer to the stammering Yamashiro and looking like the cat that caught the canary. "Are you suuuure~?"

"Yes! Positive! Akashi even confirmed it!"

"Oh hooo?" cooed Hiei. "You needed confirmation? I was wondering what you were plotting with Jintsuu~"

"Pennsy, Ari, please stop her," begged Yamashiro, turning an even brighter shade of red.

"I don't know. This is pretty fun to watch." Pennsylvania leaned back into her seat with crossed arms and a faux malevolent expression.

"And I promised I'd do the dishes." Arizona stood and gave John's beleaguered sixth wife a grin. Way too much time with Mutsu indeed.

"Details!~ Details!~"

"Traitors!"

Laughter continued long into the evening.

* * * * *

 

[theJMPer]

Ashigara was a keen hunter. She was fast. She was sleek. Her motherhood had only served to heighten and hone her already keen senses. Her lookouts were the best in the fleet, her new radar—while arcane by late-war American standards—worked magic in the hands of her well-trained operators. She could see beyond the horizon, beyond what was possible. Very few could match her skills. And none—save the Tone sisters of course—could exceed her. She was the spirit of the wolf given form, the living embodiment of the hunt.

Of course… none of that was relevant right now. The cruiser she shadowed was probably the single most obvious person on the base—if not the whole island. It wasn't just that she was American, although the cluster of MPs showing her around the base didn't hurt. It was… well, for one thing her hair was so white it gleamed like the full moon. Her long swishy ponytail described her every move like a frothy wake churned up by a dashing warship. Every motion, every gesture was telegraphed with the gusto of a woman born from the limitless expanse that was America.

Also, she was huge. Ashigara wasn't used to seeing Mutsu look up at someone that wasn't a carrier, a Yamato, or both. "Alaska," Ashigara pulled alongside the big American and suppressed a gulp. The size of those rifles!

"Ashigara?" Said Alaska with just a hint of uncertainty. She cocked her head to the side a little, her face a blank mask of pleasant confusion. To the uneducated, the large cruiser looked lost and confused, but Ashigara knew better. "Is… there a string of royal titles I should add, or…?"

"No," Ashigara stared up at the large cruiser in surprise. She was big, yes. But she was so meek. Quiet and gentle. Like Haguro except… No, actually. The more Ashigara thought about it, the more she realized Alaska was the polar opposite of her shy big sister.

Haguro had never been very confident in her abilities—bless her heart, her difficult pregnancy had done nothing to improve that. But she could tell Alaska was meek because of an absolute confidence in her abilities. There was no need for boisterous bravado when the cruiser carried twelve inch rifles on her hips.

"So," Alaska clasped her hands behind her shapely aft—why did all the American ships have such nice sterns? Was it something in the water? Some… special butt-sculpting burger?—and smiled a tiny smirk. "I understand you're a mother?"

"Yes," Ashigara beamed and fished her phone from her blouse. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Hmm?" Alaska craned her neck to soak in—and then fawn over—pictures Ashigara's pups. Her cheeks squished slightly, and her great mane of fluffy white got somehow fluffier. It wasn't much of a overt reaction, but Ashigara could tell the American wasn't one for overt emotions. "They're cute," she announced with all the business like certainty of a patrol report.

"The cutest," confirmed Ashigara. "I'm given to understand you've got a pair of twins?"

Alaska nodded. "I'll show you pictures…" She held Ashigara's phone closer to her nose and giggled at the happy little babies. "Later…"

"So," asked Ashigara with a smirk. "How long did it take you to figure it out?"

Alaska's cheeks turned red. "Um…"

—|—|—
"Okay," repair ship Vestal's gruff voice wasn't the most comforting thing for Alaska to hear wafting up from between her spread legs. Admittedly, it was better than the hour or so poor Vestal spent bent over a bucket trying not to hurl, but still. It was even less comforting that the old auxiliary sounded completely bewildered. "I need you to push."

"I am pushing!" Alaska spat through grit teeth. She felt a contraction build in her swollen stomach and bore down with every ounce of power her redlined turbines could manage. She'd had her decks scorched down to the waterline, had her bridge smashed until she could barely see past her own bow, been literally cut apart into scrap. Most of those were a lot more painful, but at least they were over quickly. "I have been pushing for the past six hours!"

"Eighteen, actually." Walker, a former destroyer turned repair crane and now probably the cutest nurse on the west coast said with a chipper smile. Yes, it was nice that she was helping, and normally Alaska would've found her enthusiasm adorable. But right now all the large cruiser could think about was getting her twins out.

"Eighteen," The large cruiser's head flopped back against her sweat-soaked… bed… chair… saddle… thing. Whatever it was she was lying in while trying to birth her twins.

"You're doing great, love." Beside her, her husband stroked her snowy hair without complaint. Which really was saying something. Eighteen hours… he'd missed lunch and dinner to be by her side. And… and Alaska was pretty sure she'd broken at least four bones in his hand.

"Am I?" she croaked, her throat dry as a bone from screaming. "D-doc, are… are the twins okay?"

"Uh…" Vestal squinted up Alaska's gown. "I think?"

"Doc?" Cameron glared at her.

"I dunno," Vestal shook her head and squinted up Alaska's skirt in bewilderment. "Yer fully dilated, I can see the head and everything. Kid just don't wanna move."

"We could lubricate!" said Walker.

"I don't think—"

"I know where I can get some lard!"

"Walker, no."

The words were barely out of Vestal's mouth when the door burst open. In charged one of the innumerable Fletcher sisters with a black jolly roger bandanna tied around her head—so probably Kidd—screaming at the top of her lungs wielding something over her head with both hands. Alaska screwed up her eyes as the pain of another contraction merged with the guttural horror of seeing a giggling destroyer with blunt object in hand.

"WaaCHA!" Kidd smashed whatever it was against the floor with a sharp crash of splintering glass and splashing liquid. Frothy gold and glittering green scattered across the floor. Alaska felt a drizzle on her face. It was sweet, fizzy, and dry. She couldn't quite place the flavor, but somewhere in her exhausted brain she knew—

"You did it!" Vestal popped up from between Alaska's legs, two snow-haired little girls swaddled in her arms.

"W-what?" Alaska blinked. It'd been so smooth, so effortless… she hadn't even noticed her girls weren't inside her anymore—which did not bode well for her skills as a parent. "What?" She blinked again and looked at Kidd—who was altogether too proud of herself. "What?"

"Can't launch a ship without breaking a bottle, right?" Kidd beamed at her own ingenuity.

—|—|—
"Eighteen hours!" Ashigara stifled a laugh. "You're made of sterner stuff than I thought!"

Alaska shrugged. "It gives me leverage over the girls when they're causing trouble."

"I'll bet," Ashigara let out a whistle. "Eighteen hours!" The hungry wolf shook her head. "Wait… how'd Kidd get her hands on a bottle of champagne?"

"She didn't tell me," said Alaska.

Ashigara blinked. "And…"

"When it comes to Fletchers it's best not to ask."

—|—|—
"What do you mean you can't sell me this?" Kidd glared up at the only thing she'd yet faced that could turn aside the destroyer-eyes of not one but three Fletchers. The teenage apathy of a minimum-wage cashier.

"Store policy" mumbled a boy sporting a wildly inflated opinion of his own skill vis-a-vi beard growth.

Kidd glared at the bottle for a moment. "Counterpoint." She grabbed the side of the counter and clambered up onto the conveyor belt. "Look at Dee."

"Hello," said the infamously klutzy sweetheart of the class with a

"Look at the bandaid on her nose." Kidd pointed to the bandaid in question. "Look at Bannie with her little sword. Look at me with my little sailor suit and my little pirate bandanna."

"I'm looking…"

"I am adorable," said Kidd. "I'm so cute I could literally break your nose and that woman—" Kidd pointed at a gray-haired granny a few checkouts down—"would still pinch my cheek and offer me a strawberry hard candy."

The woman nodded in acknowledgement. "Sorry, but she's right."

"I am So! Darn! Cute!" Kidd giggled. "That all of you have been staring at me and nobody noticed Bannie run off with the stuff five minutes ago."

 

[AlphaDelta]

Daily cute image (from Discord):

Alaska doesn't just have white hair: she has floofy white hair. And in the floof, if you look carefully, you can see both hair flaps (like Poi~) and ahoge. "Carefully", because she's so floofy that both are lost in the floof.

 

[ijnfleetadmiral]

Daily cute image (from Discord):

Alaska doesn't just have white hair: she has floofy white hair. And in the floof, if you look carefully, you can see both hair flaps (like Poi~) and ahoge. "Carefully", because she's so floofy that both are lost in the floof.

Click to shrink...

Perhaps, but no one can beat Gambi, Queen of Floof.

 

[Admiral_Corgi]

[=]​

"Really? Jersey's an Admiral now?" Kentucky said with awe and a small measure of disbelief. It had been five hours now since she and Bama had pulled into port and hopped into a repair bath. The Iowa had spent that time asking the SoDak all sorts of questions about happened in the last decade. Quite a lot had happened as it turned out.

"Sure as rain she is, Tucky." Alabama said as she sank up to her chin in the healing waters of the bath. "Course though she kinda has the habit of wrecking the ceiling and door frames if she ain't paying attention."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that'd happen. You'd think though they would have remodeled all the buildings at her post to accommodate her height." Kentucky said as she stretched out in the repair bath, her bikini top strained and the stitches of the fabric threatened to give way. But ultimately it held firm.

Alabama reached over and scratched the ears of one of the PT Corgis that was swimming in the pool. The dog leaned into the battleship's touch and wagged its tail enthusiastically. "Well Kentucky I figure the only reason she hadn't done that yet is cuz of all the paperwork she'd had to fill out to get it approved." Alabama said before she stopped scratching the PT Corgi's ears. A thoughtful expression crossed the shapely battleship's face before she spoke once more.

"You know Kentucky. All of your sisters are admirals now, not just Jersey. Plus I think all of em except Jersey are married now. Maybe, I haven't seen any definitive proof that Jersey's married but I can't rule it out either." Bama said with a shrug.

Kentucky froze for a moment at the statement, her face held a complicated expression on it for a few moments more before it changed to a smile. "So I suppose none of my sisters really get a chance to see combat nowadays?"

"Not entirely true, from what I've heard Mo gets to see action on a fairly regular basis."

"Ah, that's right. Hawaii's situation is kinda like the situation here, I just about forgot that." Kentucky said with a bit of a embarrassed blush. All the things Alabama told her about regarding what'd happened during the last ten years was overwhelming to take in all at once.

Though thinking back a bit, a new question came to Kentucky's mind. "Say, Bama, have any of my sisters become mothers yet?"

Alabama held her chin in a thoughtful expression for a few moments before answering. "From what I've heard, Mo may have a kid or three by now. But those just be rumors and scuttlebutt I've heard from the convoys that regularly make runs to Hawaii."

"Though I've heard that Iowa may have a keel on the slips and Wisky might be pregnant with twins if the scuttlebutt bout her sudden change in anime preferences is anything to go on. Though with Wisky it's kinda hard to figure what'll cause her to sudden switch up her anime viewing line up. " Alabama said. The two battleships looked at one another for a moment before they shared a laugh together.

"Regardless if those rumors all turn out to be true. Kentucky yer still leading all ya sisters in most number of kids." Alabama said with a small grin. Kentucky blushed and found her belly to be the most interesting thing in the room at the moment.

Before Alabama could tease Kentucky any further. The short stacked battleship remembered that she had something to give to the 5th Iowa. "Oh my my my, I almost forgot! I have something from Jersey to give to you!" Alabama said before reaching in between her fuel bunkers and pulling out a sealed ziplock bag that contained a thumb drive.

Kentucky just blinked at Alabama for a few moments before the shorter curvy battleship placed the bag into her hand. "Jerjer said this was for you and you alone. I dunno what's on the drive since Jersey had this handed to me just before my group left with PT-41 to meet up with y'all."

Kentucky nodded before she got out of the bath. Her own battle damage was more or less completely repaired now. She hurriedly got dressed and began to make her way back to her house.

Now with only the PT Corgis giving her company. Alabama allowed her smile to fall. She knew that there was more than a few girls back on the mainland who were going be upset at some of the news regarding their sisters that had been part of Corgi's taskforce a decade ago.

[=]​

Running full tilt, it didn't take Kentucky very long to get back home. She kissed William before asking her husband to leave his office for a little bit so she could use his computer, even though she knew that he probably had lord knows how much work to do now. Thankfully, William didn't contest the point and yielded the office and computer after a minute's thought.

Kentucky pulled the thumbdrive from the ziplock bag it was in and plugged it into the laptop. A minute later she was about to click on the file on the drive when there was a knock on the door.

"Kentucky Honey, I'll be down stairs cooking dinner alright, I was thinking of a fish fry. That okay with you?." William said on the other side of the locked door.

"Yes dear! I'll be down when I finish this.." Kentucky said with anticipation in her voice. Both from the video she was about to watch and the fact that her husband was gonna do a fish fry. Though she pushed away thoughts about her husband's delicious cooking and clicked the file. A moment later, the video began to play.

~~~~​

William Corgi sighed as he worked over the oven. Removing roughly a dozen cooked pieces of breaded Tarpon from the pan of hot oil before adding several large fillets of breaded Mahi-Mahi to the pan. It had been almost half an hour since Kentucky had came home and asked him to vacate his office for privacy reasons.

It didn't escape his attention that she had a ziplock bag containing a thumbdrive in hand when she had entered his office. Though he didn't argue about being pulled away from his work, if he had to hazard a guess he figured it must've been something from one of Kentucky's sisters.

The kids had gotten home not even ten minutes ago and they were loitering around, just outside the kitchen. Only being kept at bay by MBT 3 and the mansion staff that wasn't already helping him cook dinner. However even the Corgi were starting to look longingly at some of the fried fish, which meant he needed to keep an eye on the food lest some of it mysteriously disappeared before dinner time.

Though William was starting to get concerned at how long Kentucky had been upstairs already. Though before he was about to ask one of the staff to head up to his office and check on her. Corgi felt the floor shake slightly and then he felt his wife's ample torpedo defense system rest itself atop his head.

"So Honey what was on the thumb drive?" He asked her as while removing the now fried Mahi-Mahi from the pan. William paused and handed a fillet to his wife, partly because he knew she was silently asking for it. Partly because he could feel her rumbling stomach through her bosom.

Kentucky was more than happy to take the offered food. Though her only reply to his question was almost a minute of giggling like a schoolgirl. "I'm sorry dear I can't tell you that. I made a promise not to!"

Corgi raised an eyebrow but decided to not press the issue. "Alright dear, I won't ask bout it no more." William said. His normally tightly reigned in Louisiana accent slipping out. He could feel Kentucky shudder behind him and he couldn't help but grin. She always did love hearing his southern accent when it was just them.

"I'll go set the table." Kentucky said before she left the kitchen in a slight hurry as her boiler pressure briefly redlined. It plummeted rather quickly as she exited the kitchen with plates in hand and saw her children just around the corner. The quads must've been planning something because they tried to look like they weren't just plotting something.

"Girls, go sit at the table. Johnathan, Samantha would you mind helping me set the table?" Kentucky said. The quads quickly dashed off to the dinner table as their older brother and sister helped their mother with setting the table. When William joined in a few minutes later, the sizable feast of a dinner was ready.

The Quads and Kentucky wasted no time tearing into dinner. While William and his two older kids ate at a more sedate pace. It was just as Kentucky was finishing a fourth helping of fried fish that one of the mansion's staff approached the table and tapped William on the shoulder.

"Sir, there is a guest here to see you. He claims to be a old friend of yours. Shall I let him in?" The butler asked William as Kentucky stopped eating mid bite. She wasn't the only one who stopped eating either. The Quads and the elder two children had stopped eating as well. They were curious at who could have been visiting them at this time.

"Of course Jenkins!" William said before the butler walked off towards the front door.

"I wonder who's here at this hour." Kentucky said thoughtfully before finishing off her plate. She was halfway through piling up her fifth when she saw the Butler return with the visitor in tow. Kentucky almost dropped her plate upon seeing the other.

"Dominic!" William said with a bright smile on his face. Rising out of his seat, he walked over and shook the other's hand before pulling Dominic into a brief hug. "Its so good to see you again!" William said before noticing the rank on his uniform.

"Made it to Captain I see. I bet your Junior officers make plenty of puns regarding ya last name now huh?" William said with a small chuckle. Dominic looked at him for a full three seconds in complete silence, before he started laughing as well.

"Well I see that you're doing remarkably well William. And here I thought that when I saw ya again you'd have white and silver hair. But it seems that you aged well. How'd ya do it?"
Dominic asked curiously.

William couldn't help but grin a bit and point his thumb back to his wife. "When your wife is a Iowa-class Battleship, there's few things in the world that'll well and truly stress ya out that she couldn't alleviate." William said proudly. Which caused Kentucky to blush fiercely and attempt to hide behind the small mountain of hush puppies stacked on her plate.

"Well, I suppose you're onto something there." Dominic said somewhat quietly as William guided him back to the dinner table. The Captain couldn't very well refuse the hospitality he was being shown so he accepted the plate of food handed to him.

After a few, somewhat quiet, minutes of eating; William looked at his old friend and spoke up. "So Dominic, Which ship in the Harbor is yours?" He asked curiously. While Kentucky and the kids all gave Captain Gallow their full attention.

Dominic for his part hesitated for a few moments, as if though he wasn't sure how to go about saying the answer. After half a minute of silence, Gallow finished the last of his water and set the glass down on the table with a soft tink. "My Ship is the USS William W. Corgi FFG-111." Gallow said with a cautious tone, as he was unsure of how his Ship's namesake would take the news.

William sat in stunned silence for a minute even as Kentucky beamed at him and his children looked on with silent awe. Then William started to chuckle, a deep hearty chuckle. "I'd have never thought that they'd name a ship after me...But it somewhat makes sense that they'd put someone who was under my command at one point as her Captain."

"William...with all due respect sir. You're a goddamn legend back stateside. Hell you were one back before we found out that you and everyone here was still alive. Just based on what the last recon flyover of PR from the mainland detailed had detailed a decade ago...When we all though everyone here was lost...it was bitter but the Navy took some pride in the conclusion drawn from the observations of that flyover that you were outnumbered 3 to 1 easily and still wiped out the Abyssal force to the last…" Dominic said before trailing off and shaking his head.

"Throw in the impressions you had made among the senior brass, your service record and the long string of successes you had in this war before well… everything went topsy-turvy . It's no wonder that they named a Warship after you. But now that well…" Dominic gestured around himself and at Corgi and Kentucky as words momentarily failed him. "You went from standing among the likes of Nimitz and Halsey to being shoulder-to-shoulder with John Paul Jones himself William. So far, you're the only one anywhere that we know of that's not just held their ground but actively pushed the Abyss back." Dominic said.

William looked at Dominic for a few long moments in contemplative silence before speaking up. "It was more like four-to-one, five or six if you counted the landing craft that made attempts at the beaches… And despite everything I did...I still lost a third of my fleet…" William said quietly and somberly.

Dominic went to apologize but he was stopped before uttering a word by William's raise hand. "But despite that...we managed to get this far on our devices. Now with help and support from the mainland... I'm certain we'll be able to drive the abyss out of the Caribbean and then beyond...Make certain that the sacrifices made that night a decade ago weren't in vain. We who had lived to see the light of dawn from that terrible night owe that to them, I owe that to them." William said with a somber tone.

The somber air of silence that fell over the dinner table held for a little over a minute before it was broken by William's sigh. "But I also know that those girls wouldn't have wanted us to be dreary and brooding. So let's honor their memory by loving, laughing, living and winning this war." William said with a small, bittersweet smile on his face.

The conversation for the rest of dinner was more jovial if slightly subdued as Dominic filled Kentucky and William in on all the going ons they had missed during the last ten years.

[=]​

Hamakaze walked along the pathway holding her daughter in her arms to keep Ayako from tiring out. It was a rather long walk they had taken, but Ayako had insisted to her mother to come along. A gentle but steady sea breeze blew across the grounds. Rustling the leaves of the trees shading one of the pathways.

Knowing when exactly to turn, Hamakaze turned off the main path and started down one of the side branching paths. Ayako lightly tugged at her mother's sundress, signalling to be set down. Hamakaze did so and waited for her daughter to take her hand before they continued on their way.

It was only after a minute of walking that the two began to pass by markers. Neat and orderly stone and concrete headstones, many were crosses, some were stars, some still were other symbols of faith. All however represented the same thing, the servicemen and women who fell in the line of duty in the defense of Puerto Rico on that night ten years ago.

There were a few other people around, not many but a good handful. Hamakaze knew what those people were doing, it was the same thing she had come here to do. Speak with friends and family who rested here

After another five minutes of walking, Hamakaze saw her destination up ahead. Marked out by the flagpoles in each of the area's four corners. The flags on them, two American and two Japanese flags, flew at permanent half mast. Another two minutes went by and now mother and daughter were at the perimeter of white flagstones.

The closest of the eight marines stationed around the perimeter, in full ceremonial attire, acknowledged the shipgirl with a salute. A Salute which Hamakaze returned before crossing the the line of flagstones.

Hamakaze's steps were slow but certain, her daughter falling into formation beside her. No matter how many times she had come visited this place in the past decade. She always felt herself get nearly overwhelmed with emotion as she passed the ten anchor markers of PT Squadron 16, whom were the leading vanguard of the formation.

To the left of PT Squadron 16 was PT squadron 6, and to the right was PT Squadron 10. In the center of the PT Boat Vanguard, was another set of Anchor markers. These were the 14 shipgirls who had fell that night. Like with the grave markers of the fallen PT corgis, the grave markers of the fallen shipgirls had been arranged in a naval formation.

Hamakaze blinked back the tears as she came up to the one she was here to visit. Her sister, Isokaze. An etching in the brass of Isokaze smiling face looked back at her. Hamakaze took a moment to gather herself before getting down in a seiza position. Little Ayako followed her mother and got into the same position. A gentle and ever so slight breeze from the direction of the sea began to blow as Hamakaze began to speak.

"Hey sis. I came by to give you an update on things…" Hamakaze said while fighting to keep herself from choking up. She calmed down as the breeze picked up ever so slightly for a few moments.

"Little Ayako is getting ready to start school soon." A small gust of wind wordlessly responded. "Yeah, she's growing up quickly. It honestly does feel like she had started walking and talking just last month." Hama said as her gaze moved from the headstone to her daughter. "Ayako, do you have anything you'd like to say auntie Isokaze?" She asked. Her daughter nodded and beamed a bright smile at the etched image.

"Yeah! I'm gonna grow up and be just as big and strong an smart as Mama is! Just you watch auntie Iso!" Ayako declared with enthusiasm in her voice. The breeze picked up briefly and flicked a few strands of Ayako's hair this way and that way.

"I'm sure you will Ayako, and Auntie Iso will be rooting for you the whole way." Hamakaze said with a hint of bittersweetness in her voice. The faint sounds of the flags clinking against their poles and flapping in the breeze drifted through the air like soft-spoken comforting words.

Hamakaze willed herself to not choke up as she prepared to share the bit of news she had come here to share. "Hey sis, there is something else I wanted to tell you. I think you'll like this." Hamakaze said with a sweet smile. The gentle breeze died down, as if the air itself was now listening carefully to what the Kagerou would say next.

"We made contact with the mainland US again… They're still standing and...we've received a supply convoy and reinforcements. You were right, they never forgot about us Isokaze, even after all these years, they never forgot forgot us." Hamakaze said as happy tears began to stream down her face.

The wind picked up sharply but remained within the realm of being a gentle midsummer's sea breeze. Though it did help stop the tears that had started to stream down Hamakaze's face. The motherly Kagerou relaxed a bit and her smile deepened.

"I've also heard that the US picked up a signal from Japan recently… I don't know anything else about that except that an expedition was sent out to investigate it….But there's a hope that all of our other sisters are alive and well out there." Hamakaze said hopefully, It was a longshot for sure, but the Kagerou did sincerely hope that the rest of her sisters were alive and well. That Japan was doing well despite everything.

The seemingly one-sided conversations continued on for another hour before it was time for Hamakaze and Ayako to go home. "It was wonderful talking to you Isokaze, but me and Ayako have to get going now. Raphael said he'd have dinner ready and I told him that me and Ayako would be back home around this time… I don't want to make him worried you know…" Hamakaze trailed off before a breeze ruffled a few strands of her hair.

Though as the breeze lightly whipped about, Hamakaze began to blush furiously. "Ayako, say goodbye to A-auntie Isokaze. Daddy is waiting back home for us with dinner ready." Hamakaze slightly stammered out as she fought to keep her blush under control.

Ayako didn't quite know why her mama was blushing so. But she figured it had to do with Auntie Iso. Daddy once told her that shipgirls like her mother could sometimes talk to spirits and hear what they said in return. So she figured Auntie Iso said something to mama to make her blush like that.

Still though, it was time to go and Ayako needed to say goodbye to her auntie. Coming up to the brass anchor marker, Ayako stood on the tips of her toes and kissed the smiling image of her aunt etched into the marker. "Bye Auntie Iso! I'll be sure to come back and visit soon!" Ayako happily declared to the image.

A momentary gust of wind whipped about and ruffled Ayako's silvery hair. Ayako swore that for a fleeting moment she had felt a hand on her head, ruffling her hair like how auntie Urakaze often did. Ayako came away from brass anchor marker giggling as she fell into formation besides her mother. Ayako took her mother's hand before they started their journey home together.

Ayako looked back as she and her mother left was leaving the shipgirl cemetery and waved her auntie goodbye. For the briefest of moments, against the setting sun, Ayako swore she someone; several someones even waving back at her.

Though they were gone the instant she blinked. Content but still curious about what she had seen, Ayako looked back ahead and figured she'd ask daddy about it during dinner. He knew all sorts of things after all!

[=]​