- Location
- Liverpool
if anyone has any stories or self inserts as hms hood of KGV please send me a link
Kantai Collection - Fanfic Idea and Recs
- Thread starter sasahara17
- Start date
- Location
- Paradise, Hawaii
Has there been a story involving the USS Holland ( AS-3 ) ? Later reclassified ( ARG-18 )
She once was Captained by Chester W. Nimitz and refit a lot of ships and submarines.
Just curious how subthieves would respond to her, or is she an even bigger thief? Teaching the submarines their trade?
She once was Captained by Chester W. Nimitz and refit a lot of ships and submarines.
Just curious how subthieves would respond to her, or is she an even bigger thief? Teaching the submarines their trade?
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
- Location
- Florida
AS-3 would likely be seen as a mom-boat for subs, as it was a sub tender. but also yes, probably an even bigger thief than the subs because of the shear hell that the tenders went through getting supplies both for themselves and their charges. She would be the generous mom figure that give the little shits everything they ask for that she has
- Location
- Paradise, Hawaii
Does that mean she was issued, built or acquired Ice Cream Machines & Alcohol Stills?
The better to trade or get unruly subthieves to do chores?
LOL! I can imagine the scene from Oliver Twist.
I would say it is too British, but they retreated from the Philipines to Darwin so they could have picked up a lot, become an Old Hand and even got refurbished to the best WW2 standards.
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WarpObscura
Sleepy Big Stick
- Location
- A dot at the edge of continental Asia.
Apparently it's not getting much attention, but Mogami has a second daughter now (the first was DE-212, a 60s-80s DE):
- Location
- the details
SB has one similar for HMS Repulse and HMS Prince of Wales: Princess of Wales (Kancolle WWII)
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- Location
- the details
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Please keep cross posting this
- Location
- America
I agree, please continue.
- Location
- the details
Indianapolis decided to go to a very quiet dive bar called "The Captain's Table" she was familiar with but very few others, not even her husband, even knew about.
She wanted some time to herself so she could make sense of what was happening to her. While sipping on a massively overpriced beer, which she didn't have to pay for, she noticed a guy about her age come in with a gal who looked like she was no older than about twelve.
Her fairies were effectively screaming "That's Portland! She's your big sis! Go say hi to her you big dummy!" She ignored them because her older sis was her identical twin USS Vincennes. This confused her even further because Vincennes was not her twin sister's name.
The bartender did not ask the preteen for ID or call the cops to come out and investigate something which looked, at first glance, like it could be very squicky and highly illegal.
After they left she asked the bartender why the aforesaid didn't happen. His response was simple and plain. "She's my mom and you're my aunt."
Indianapolis went back to her confused brooding.
- Location
- America
The plot thickens.
- Location
- the details
Indianapolis remembered some Star Trek novels she read during college where "The Captain's Table" was a bar with a bar tab of "tell a true story" that only starship captains were allowed to patronize.
She called the bartender, her apparent nephew, over and asked him to sit and listen. He was all ears.
She told him an unbelievable story that involved five airline flights, four airports, three bathrooms, two seat assignments, and one very vital piece of witheld information.
Part of the story incuded an RCMP Officer looking for her best friend in a Victoria, BC hotel bar so that he could personally return her best friend's father's dropped passport because he was told by someone born in Mexico that he'd find them there.
Once the story was complete Indianapolis got up, stretched, and took her leave.
She was feeling much better.
- Location
- the details
I should give this story it's own thread, I just don't know what to call it yet. Suggestions are welcome.
USS Indianapolis was on the living room sofa sleeping peacefully and wearing only a pair of socks. This was even more worrying to her husband than the ever growing piles of paper with nothing but the word "Hey" written on them because she usually fidgets and mutters things when she's asleep.
He covered her with a blanket and, just to be sure, checked to make sure she was breathing and had a pulse.
Just then the doorbell rang.
He no idea who would come calling at this pre-dawn hour or what to expect when he opened the door. The pair of young girls dressed in WWII-era naval uniforms (one American, one Soviet) was certainly unexpected.
The the pair introduced themselves as Portland and Kirov. After some awkard pleasantries the pair was allowed in. They went over to Indianapolis. He saw a fairy appear on the shoulder of each before dissapearing into his wife.
That necessary task done, the awake trio retired to the dining room for coffee and a long conversation where the girls explained what was going on that his wife wasn't crazy. She was USS Indianapolis, reborn. The massive pile of ship blueprints threatening to collapse his wife's drafting table agreed with this asessment.
The two fairies, an American Lieutenant Commander and a Soviet Captain, 3rd Rank, were granted permission to come aboard and quickly escorted to the captain's in-port cabin. They were met by Indianapolis herself.
- Location
- Pacific Northwest
Preliminary chapter for new story Idea
Summer 2030
Mid-Pacific: 850 miles west of Seattle, 350 mile east northeast of Midway
Convoy SC-37: Returning from Yokohama, Japan
USS Gridley DDG-101
"Bridge, CIC, Contact! Bearing 286, Range 26,000 yards!" the radar operator called the bridge.
"CIC, Bridge, can you get an estimate on contact?" the Officer of the Deck asked.
"It appears to be small, but gives a good return, like a life raft or something similarly sized, sir." the radar operator replied.
"Could it be an Abyssal?" the Officer of the Deck asked.
"Negative, sir. Abyssals would only show up as radar ghosts, even at full power from the AN/APS-73" the radar operator replied.
The Officer of the Deck reached for the phone and made a call.
"Sir, could you come to the bridge?" the Officer of the Deck said into the phone.
A few minutes later, Captain Jack Merrill came to the bridge.
"Captain on the bridge!" Someone announced.
"What's up, Lieutenant Jackson?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Sir, we've picked up a contact on the port bow, range about 26,000 yards. Radar confirms it's not an Abyssal, but some sort of small object, giving a good hard return." Lieutenant Jackson replied.
"What's our current position?" the Captain asked.
"We're here, sir" Lieutenant Jackson said, pointing to a position recently plotted on the chart.
"Lieutenant, are you sure? The Carl Vinson strike group had their run in with the Abyssals close to here almost three months ago, during Blood Week." the Captain said, somberly.
The first encounter with the Abyssals by the US Navy had become known as Blood Week. In the space of a few days, the Navy lost 5 carrier strike groups and five others were severely mauled. Carl Vinson was one of the surviving carriers, only due to the heroism and courage of Captain Steven Pickett, captain of USS Antietam. With the loss of more than ¾ of Carl Vinson's air group, and all but two other vessels of the strike group escort screen, Captain Pickett turned Antietam towards the Abyssals and charged, ordering the two remaining escorts to follow him. Captain Pickett urged Carl Vinson to steam away, knowing the Abyssals couldn't catch her if she had a head start. Antietam and the two Burke-class destroyers held off the Abyssals for more than three hours, but were presumed lost with all hands. The press had dubbed the action "Pickett's Charge" and Captain Pickett was posthumously awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.
"Yes, sir, I'm sure. We synchronized our plot with the GPS less than an hour ago." Lieutenant Jackson said.
Captain Merrill contemplated his options for a few moments. He strode over and picked up the phone.
"Comm, this is the Captain, Connect me to COMESCORT" the Captain ordered.
After a few moments, the connection was made.
"Sir, we've got a radar contact that has been confirmed as non-Abyssal. It appears to be a small object. Yes sir, I know where we are. I served with Steve Pickett. If we could at least recover something, that may help us and the families deal with this debacle. Thank you, sir!" Captain Merrill said, as he broke the connection.
"Captain, CIC, you still got a fix on that object out there?" Captain Merrill inquired.
"Yes, sir. Bearing 279, range 28,000 yards." the radar operator replied.
"Helm, come to course 279, all ahead standard" Captain Merrill ordered
"Course 279. all ahead standard, sir" the helmsman replied, as he spun the ship's wheel, and moved the engine throttle controls.
"Lookouts to the bow and keep a sharp eye for any objects in the water" Captain Merrill ordered.
A half an hour later, a lookout spotted what appeared to be a life raft, with its radar reflector sail deployed. Maneuvering Gridley in close, the lookouts fired a line with a grapnel that caught the raft, and pulled it in close. They were in for a shock. The petty officer in charge of the detail ran to the phone and called the bridge.
"Bridge, Captain here." Captain Merrill said, as he picked up the phone,
"WHAT?!?! Get them to sick bay NOW!" he ordered.
Examining the battered raft they pulled aboard, the sailors were able to determine it came from Antietam. The survivor they pulled aboard and sent to sick bay, was a young woman, dressed in ragged, torn and burned NWUs, with no name tag or rank insignia. Women had been serving on Navy ships for at least three generations, so that wasn't unusual. What was unusual, was the fact that there was no identification on her, except for a ship's tag, USS Antietam CG-54 above the US NAVY tag on her NWUs. There was a Velcro patch where the name tag would have gone, but Velcro name tags were often used in place of sewn on ones.
Captain Merrill entered sick bay and found the Chief Corpsman.
"Chief, what can you tell me?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Sir, what we have here is a female sailor, approximately mid-20's. She looks like she's been through hell, with burns, cuts, gashes and assorted other injuries. Her uniform is a mess, torn, bloodied, burned and slashed. Remarkably, most of her wounds seem to be healing. Otherwise, she's in extraordinary shape for being alone on the ocean for so long." the Chief Corpsman replied.
"Can I talk to her?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Right now, she's unconscious, but I will call you the moment she comes to, sir." the Chief Corpsman assured the Captain.
"Thank you, Chief. Carry on" Captain Merrill said, as he made his way back to the bridge.
Once on the bridge, Captain Merrill picked up the phone.
"Comm, this is the Captain. Connect me with COMESCORT" the Captain ordered.
The connection was made in a few moments.
"Sir, we picked up the object. It appears to be life raft from Antietam. Yes sir, we found someone in the raft. Sir, she's alive, but unconscious right now. Yes sir, I thought so, too. Things change, and maybe this happened recently. Yes sir, I'll keep you informed, once she regains consciousness. Yes sir." Captain Merrill said into the phone.
Captain Merrill hung up the phone and stood by the chart table, gazing nowhere but still thinking. There had been running jokes about Antietam being the only ship left in the Navy with an all-male crew. That may have changed recently. Women had been making inroads in the Navy for quite a while. In fact, the new commander of 7th Fleet, was Vice Admiral Jennifer Stone, who had previously commanded the Doris Miller strike group.
"Helm, come to course 092 all ahead two-thirds. Resume convoy escort station." Captain Merrill ordered.
"Course 092, all ahead two-thirds, resuming convoy escort station, sir!" the helmsman replied, as he turned the ship's wheel and adjusted his throttle controls.
Gridley turned around and headed back to the convoy. Once she caught up with the convoy, she maneuvered into her designated position on the convoy's port rear flank and slowed to 12 knots to match the convoy speed. At this speed, it was going to be another 4 and a half days to Seattle. Captain Merrill paced restlessly around the bridge. He hated moving so slowly with a convoy of vulnerable slow merchies, but that was the job. What added to his anxiety, was the knowledge that the Abyssals were lurking somewhere around, planning to hit them and they wouldn't know it. For all the technological wonders that Gridley and the rest of the Arleigh Burke-class destroyers were crammed with for detecting and identifying opponents, the Abyssals had negated the vaunted AN/SPY-3 radar and AEGIS computer system as well as all the other sensor systems, even satellite surveillance and reduced them to using the Mark 1 Mod 0 eyeball. Lookouts at the bow, beam and stern were scanning the horizon with binoculars, just as their great grandfathers did a century ago. However, there was one trick still left in the Captain's bag. He went over and picked up the phone.
"Flight Deck, this is the Captain. Launch the Global Hawk drone." the Captain said.
The Global Hawk surveillance drones had been used by the US military for decades, but it was only within the last 10 years that they were deployed by the US Navy on ships. Against the Abyssals, high resolution radar and IR scanning were useless, but the low-light TV cameras were invaluable. With its long range and endurance of more than 24 hours aloft, it was the only tool left that could spot the Abyssals beyond visual range. Captain Merrill relaxed a little, now that he had the means to spot the Abyssals coming.
The watch ground on quietly. Even so, everyone's nerves were on edge. Everyone remembered that the Abyssals struck without warning during Blood Week, and everyone was keyed up for action. When eight bells sounded the change of watch, the Captain got a call he'd been anticipating. The call from sick bay by the Chief Corpsman informed him the survivor was finally conscious.
Stepping into sick bay, Captain Merrill conferred with the Chief Corpsman.
"How is she, Chief?" the Captain asked?
"She's in remarkably good shape, for being in a life raft for so long. She's got a lot of scars, burns and other injuries, but surprisingly, they actually seem to be healing. She's alert and coherent, knowing the year, and that she's on a US Navy ship, but there seems to be some odd gaps in her memory. It may be the result of a concussion or it could be stress induced, it's hard to say. Not surprisingly, she's hungry and eating like the whole crew by herself. All in all, she's doing extraordinarily well, considering the circumstances, sir." the Chief Corpsman replied.
"Can I talk to her?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Yes sir, you can but keep it short. She's been through a hell of a lot." the Chief Corpsman replied, standing aside.
Captain Merrill made his way to the berth where the survivor was stretched out on. Lieutenant Donal, the ship's deputy ops officer, was with her. She stood, but sat back down at a gesture from the Captain.
"So, how is she?" the Captain asked Lieutenant Donal.
"Sir, she's conscious, and fairly lucid. She's still in pretty rough shape, but I think she'll be able to answer a few questions." Lieutenant Donal replied.
The Captain stepped closer to the sick bay berth and looked at the young woman laying on it. She was tall and lean, with short dark hair, dark piercing eyes and a dark coffee colored complexion. For some reason, she reminded the Captain of a former First Lady. Her NWUs had had been replaced, but there was no name tag or rank insignia on them. Her feet were in socks, and a pair of shoes lay beside the berth.
"So, how you feeling, sailor?" the Captain asked.
"Ah think Ah'm doing better, sir." the sailor replied, a lilting drawl flavoring her soprano voice.
"What's your name, sailor?" the Captain asked.
"Ann, or Annie, sir" the sailor replied.
"What's your last name, Annie?" the Captain asked.
"Don't rightly remember, sir." the sailor replied, hesitantly after a few moments.
"What's your rank, Annie?" the Captain asked
"Don't rightly remember, sir." the sailor replied again, hesitantly after a few moments.
"What was your position on Antietam, Annie?" the Captain asked, starting to get frustrated.
"Ah kept track of thing, sir" the sailor answered
"So you were the yeoman keeping the ship's log then, right Annie?" the Captain asked, encouraged he was getting some information.
"Something like that, sir" she replied.
"Do you remember what happened after Captain Pickett turned towards the Abyssals, ordered Barry and Wilbur to follow him, and urged Carl Vinson turn west and proceed at full speed away?" The Captain asked.
"Yes sir, Ah do" she answered quietly."
"Can you tell me what you remember happening, sailor?" Captain Merrill asked.
Annie began reciting the events in an almost mechanical voice, citing time and date, precisely detailing the actions taken by Captain Pickett as well as the actions by the different departments. She recited in dry detail, the damage and casualties, and the final action with a battleship, which took some damage from Antietam's last Harpoon missiles, which were launched at almost point blank range. She quietly and sadly detailed Antietam's sinking and the loss of the rest of the crew.
Captain Merrill shook his head. Odd gaps in her memory indeed. She couldn't remember her last name, rank or her precise position on board, but she had incredibly detailed memory of Asntietam's last moments. Something didn't add up, but he decided that was for the shrinks and the intel boys to figure out.
"Rest easy, Annie. We should be back in Seattle in about 4 days." the Captain said quietly.
"Aye sir, Ah'll do mah best not to be any trouble to y'all and y'all's crew." Ann replied respectfully.
"By the way, Annie, where are you from?" Captain Merrill asked, as he started turning away.
"Pascagoula, Mississippi, sir" Ann replied.
"Do you have any family there that we can inform of your status?" the Captain asked.
"No, sir. Ah have a lot of sisters, but they're kinda scattered all over" Ann replied quietly.
"Well, take it easy, Annie. We'll talk more later. In the meantime, Lieutenant Donal will debrief you on what happened, when you feel up to it." Captain Merrill said, as he left sick bay.
Captain Merrill returned to the bridge, thinking on what he had heard from Ann. He picked up the phone and started speaking.
"Comm, this is the Captain. Connect me to COMESCORT" he ordered.
"Sir, this is Captain Merrill. I had a chance to talk to the survivor. She's in pretty rough shape, but she's recovering in remarkable fashion. She's eating like the entire crew all by herself Yes, sir, I did. She doesn't remember her last name, rank or position on Antietam, but she gave a very detailed chronology of events up until the sinking. The odd gaps in her memory may be due to concussion or possibly stress, it's hard to say. Yes sir, I'll forward you a copy as soon as I receive it. Yes sir, we have a Global Hawk out covering the rear flank of the convoy. Yes sir, we'll stay sharp. Yes sir." Captain Merrill said into the phone.
Captain Merrill hung up the phone and turned to Commander Hastings, his XO, who had come to the bridge to take the next watch.
"Commander, she's all yours. I'll be in my cabin, if you need me." Captain Merrill said, as he went below to his cabin.
"Aye, sir. I have the conn." Commander Hastings replied in clear alto voice.
Summer 2030
Mid-Pacific: 850 miles west of Seattle, 350 mile east northeast of Midway
Convoy SC-37: Returning from Yokohama, Japan
USS Gridley DDG-101
"Bridge, CIC, Contact! Bearing 286, Range 26,000 yards!" the radar operator called the bridge.
"CIC, Bridge, can you get an estimate on contact?" the Officer of the Deck asked.
"It appears to be small, but gives a good return, like a life raft or something similarly sized, sir." the radar operator replied.
"Could it be an Abyssal?" the Officer of the Deck asked.
"Negative, sir. Abyssals would only show up as radar ghosts, even at full power from the AN/APS-73" the radar operator replied.
The Officer of the Deck reached for the phone and made a call.
"Sir, could you come to the bridge?" the Officer of the Deck said into the phone.
A few minutes later, Captain Jack Merrill came to the bridge.
"Captain on the bridge!" Someone announced.
"What's up, Lieutenant Jackson?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Sir, we've picked up a contact on the port bow, range about 26,000 yards. Radar confirms it's not an Abyssal, but some sort of small object, giving a good hard return." Lieutenant Jackson replied.
"What's our current position?" the Captain asked.
"We're here, sir" Lieutenant Jackson said, pointing to a position recently plotted on the chart.
"Lieutenant, are you sure? The Carl Vinson strike group had their run in with the Abyssals close to here almost three months ago, during Blood Week." the Captain said, somberly.
The first encounter with the Abyssals by the US Navy had become known as Blood Week. In the space of a few days, the Navy lost 5 carrier strike groups and five others were severely mauled. Carl Vinson was one of the surviving carriers, only due to the heroism and courage of Captain Steven Pickett, captain of USS Antietam. With the loss of more than ¾ of Carl Vinson's air group, and all but two other vessels of the strike group escort screen, Captain Pickett turned Antietam towards the Abyssals and charged, ordering the two remaining escorts to follow him. Captain Pickett urged Carl Vinson to steam away, knowing the Abyssals couldn't catch her if she had a head start. Antietam and the two Burke-class destroyers held off the Abyssals for more than three hours, but were presumed lost with all hands. The press had dubbed the action "Pickett's Charge" and Captain Pickett was posthumously awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor.
"Yes, sir, I'm sure. We synchronized our plot with the GPS less than an hour ago." Lieutenant Jackson said.
Captain Merrill contemplated his options for a few moments. He strode over and picked up the phone.
"Comm, this is the Captain, Connect me to COMESCORT" the Captain ordered.
After a few moments, the connection was made.
"Sir, we've got a radar contact that has been confirmed as non-Abyssal. It appears to be a small object. Yes sir, I know where we are. I served with Steve Pickett. If we could at least recover something, that may help us and the families deal with this debacle. Thank you, sir!" Captain Merrill said, as he broke the connection.
"Captain, CIC, you still got a fix on that object out there?" Captain Merrill inquired.
"Yes, sir. Bearing 279, range 28,000 yards." the radar operator replied.
"Helm, come to course 279, all ahead standard" Captain Merrill ordered
"Course 279. all ahead standard, sir" the helmsman replied, as he spun the ship's wheel, and moved the engine throttle controls.
"Lookouts to the bow and keep a sharp eye for any objects in the water" Captain Merrill ordered.
A half an hour later, a lookout spotted what appeared to be a life raft, with its radar reflector sail deployed. Maneuvering Gridley in close, the lookouts fired a line with a grapnel that caught the raft, and pulled it in close. They were in for a shock. The petty officer in charge of the detail ran to the phone and called the bridge.
"Bridge, Captain here." Captain Merrill said, as he picked up the phone,
"WHAT?!?! Get them to sick bay NOW!" he ordered.
Examining the battered raft they pulled aboard, the sailors were able to determine it came from Antietam. The survivor they pulled aboard and sent to sick bay, was a young woman, dressed in ragged, torn and burned NWUs, with no name tag or rank insignia. Women had been serving on Navy ships for at least three generations, so that wasn't unusual. What was unusual, was the fact that there was no identification on her, except for a ship's tag, USS Antietam CG-54 above the US NAVY tag on her NWUs. There was a Velcro patch where the name tag would have gone, but Velcro name tags were often used in place of sewn on ones.
Captain Merrill entered sick bay and found the Chief Corpsman.
"Chief, what can you tell me?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Sir, what we have here is a female sailor, approximately mid-20's. She looks like she's been through hell, with burns, cuts, gashes and assorted other injuries. Her uniform is a mess, torn, bloodied, burned and slashed. Remarkably, most of her wounds seem to be healing. Otherwise, she's in extraordinary shape for being alone on the ocean for so long." the Chief Corpsman replied.
"Can I talk to her?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Right now, she's unconscious, but I will call you the moment she comes to, sir." the Chief Corpsman assured the Captain.
"Thank you, Chief. Carry on" Captain Merrill said, as he made his way back to the bridge.
Once on the bridge, Captain Merrill picked up the phone.
"Comm, this is the Captain. Connect me with COMESCORT" the Captain ordered.
The connection was made in a few moments.
"Sir, we picked up the object. It appears to be life raft from Antietam. Yes sir, we found someone in the raft. Sir, she's alive, but unconscious right now. Yes sir, I thought so, too. Things change, and maybe this happened recently. Yes sir, I'll keep you informed, once she regains consciousness. Yes sir." Captain Merrill said into the phone.
Captain Merrill hung up the phone and stood by the chart table, gazing nowhere but still thinking. There had been running jokes about Antietam being the only ship left in the Navy with an all-male crew. That may have changed recently. Women had been making inroads in the Navy for quite a while. In fact, the new commander of 7th Fleet, was Vice Admiral Jennifer Stone, who had previously commanded the Doris Miller strike group.
"Helm, come to course 092 all ahead two-thirds. Resume convoy escort station." Captain Merrill ordered.
"Course 092, all ahead two-thirds, resuming convoy escort station, sir!" the helmsman replied, as he turned the ship's wheel and adjusted his throttle controls.
Gridley turned around and headed back to the convoy. Once she caught up with the convoy, she maneuvered into her designated position on the convoy's port rear flank and slowed to 12 knots to match the convoy speed. At this speed, it was going to be another 4 and a half days to Seattle. Captain Merrill paced restlessly around the bridge. He hated moving so slowly with a convoy of vulnerable slow merchies, but that was the job. What added to his anxiety, was the knowledge that the Abyssals were lurking somewhere around, planning to hit them and they wouldn't know it. For all the technological wonders that Gridley and the rest of the Arleigh Burke-class destroyers were crammed with for detecting and identifying opponents, the Abyssals had negated the vaunted AN/SPY-3 radar and AEGIS computer system as well as all the other sensor systems, even satellite surveillance and reduced them to using the Mark 1 Mod 0 eyeball. Lookouts at the bow, beam and stern were scanning the horizon with binoculars, just as their great grandfathers did a century ago. However, there was one trick still left in the Captain's bag. He went over and picked up the phone.
"Flight Deck, this is the Captain. Launch the Global Hawk drone." the Captain said.
The Global Hawk surveillance drones had been used by the US military for decades, but it was only within the last 10 years that they were deployed by the US Navy on ships. Against the Abyssals, high resolution radar and IR scanning were useless, but the low-light TV cameras were invaluable. With its long range and endurance of more than 24 hours aloft, it was the only tool left that could spot the Abyssals beyond visual range. Captain Merrill relaxed a little, now that he had the means to spot the Abyssals coming.
The watch ground on quietly. Even so, everyone's nerves were on edge. Everyone remembered that the Abyssals struck without warning during Blood Week, and everyone was keyed up for action. When eight bells sounded the change of watch, the Captain got a call he'd been anticipating. The call from sick bay by the Chief Corpsman informed him the survivor was finally conscious.
Stepping into sick bay, Captain Merrill conferred with the Chief Corpsman.
"How is she, Chief?" the Captain asked?
"She's in remarkably good shape, for being in a life raft for so long. She's got a lot of scars, burns and other injuries, but surprisingly, they actually seem to be healing. She's alert and coherent, knowing the year, and that she's on a US Navy ship, but there seems to be some odd gaps in her memory. It may be the result of a concussion or it could be stress induced, it's hard to say. Not surprisingly, she's hungry and eating like the whole crew by herself. All in all, she's doing extraordinarily well, considering the circumstances, sir." the Chief Corpsman replied.
"Can I talk to her?" Captain Merrill asked.
"Yes sir, you can but keep it short. She's been through a hell of a lot." the Chief Corpsman replied, standing aside.
Captain Merrill made his way to the berth where the survivor was stretched out on. Lieutenant Donal, the ship's deputy ops officer, was with her. She stood, but sat back down at a gesture from the Captain.
"So, how is she?" the Captain asked Lieutenant Donal.
"Sir, she's conscious, and fairly lucid. She's still in pretty rough shape, but I think she'll be able to answer a few questions." Lieutenant Donal replied.
The Captain stepped closer to the sick bay berth and looked at the young woman laying on it. She was tall and lean, with short dark hair, dark piercing eyes and a dark coffee colored complexion. For some reason, she reminded the Captain of a former First Lady. Her NWUs had had been replaced, but there was no name tag or rank insignia on them. Her feet were in socks, and a pair of shoes lay beside the berth.
"So, how you feeling, sailor?" the Captain asked.
"Ah think Ah'm doing better, sir." the sailor replied, a lilting drawl flavoring her soprano voice.
"What's your name, sailor?" the Captain asked.
"Ann, or Annie, sir" the sailor replied.
"What's your last name, Annie?" the Captain asked.
"Don't rightly remember, sir." the sailor replied, hesitantly after a few moments.
"What's your rank, Annie?" the Captain asked
"Don't rightly remember, sir." the sailor replied again, hesitantly after a few moments.
"What was your position on Antietam, Annie?" the Captain asked, starting to get frustrated.
"Ah kept track of thing, sir" the sailor answered
"So you were the yeoman keeping the ship's log then, right Annie?" the Captain asked, encouraged he was getting some information.
"Something like that, sir" she replied.
"Do you remember what happened after Captain Pickett turned towards the Abyssals, ordered Barry and Wilbur to follow him, and urged Carl Vinson turn west and proceed at full speed away?" The Captain asked.
"Yes sir, Ah do" she answered quietly."
"Can you tell me what you remember happening, sailor?" Captain Merrill asked.
Annie began reciting the events in an almost mechanical voice, citing time and date, precisely detailing the actions taken by Captain Pickett as well as the actions by the different departments. She recited in dry detail, the damage and casualties, and the final action with a battleship, which took some damage from Antietam's last Harpoon missiles, which were launched at almost point blank range. She quietly and sadly detailed Antietam's sinking and the loss of the rest of the crew.
Captain Merrill shook his head. Odd gaps in her memory indeed. She couldn't remember her last name, rank or her precise position on board, but she had incredibly detailed memory of Asntietam's last moments. Something didn't add up, but he decided that was for the shrinks and the intel boys to figure out.
"Rest easy, Annie. We should be back in Seattle in about 4 days." the Captain said quietly.
"Aye sir, Ah'll do mah best not to be any trouble to y'all and y'all's crew." Ann replied respectfully.
"By the way, Annie, where are you from?" Captain Merrill asked, as he started turning away.
"Pascagoula, Mississippi, sir" Ann replied.
"Do you have any family there that we can inform of your status?" the Captain asked.
"No, sir. Ah have a lot of sisters, but they're kinda scattered all over" Ann replied quietly.
"Well, take it easy, Annie. We'll talk more later. In the meantime, Lieutenant Donal will debrief you on what happened, when you feel up to it." Captain Merrill said, as he left sick bay.
Captain Merrill returned to the bridge, thinking on what he had heard from Ann. He picked up the phone and started speaking.
"Comm, this is the Captain. Connect me to COMESCORT" he ordered.
"Sir, this is Captain Merrill. I had a chance to talk to the survivor. She's in pretty rough shape, but she's recovering in remarkable fashion. She's eating like the entire crew all by herself Yes, sir, I did. She doesn't remember her last name, rank or position on Antietam, but she gave a very detailed chronology of events up until the sinking. The odd gaps in her memory may be due to concussion or possibly stress, it's hard to say. Yes sir, I'll forward you a copy as soon as I receive it. Yes sir, we have a Global Hawk out covering the rear flank of the convoy. Yes sir, we'll stay sharp. Yes sir." Captain Merrill said into the phone.
Captain Merrill hung up the phone and turned to Commander Hastings, his XO, who had come to the bridge to take the next watch.
"Commander, she's all yours. I'll be in my cabin, if you need me." Captain Merrill said, as he went below to his cabin.
"Aye, sir. I have the conn." Commander Hastings replied in clear alto voice.
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- Somewhere
The only story I've seen that has a coherent rule is Harry and the Shipgirls and that has them be mostly female, and shipgirls of newer ships (unless the other parent is also non-human, in which case they may or may not favor the other parent), with a few exceptions.
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I'm partial to them being regular kids with a very unusual mother who doesn't appear to age physically.
Fr'ex: In the coalescing story I've posted snippets for Portland appears to be a preteen. She also has adult children. I'm not sure what I want to her actual age to be, but it's late-30s/early-40s at the youngest.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Looking forward to more of this! Im a fan of modern ship girl stories, and it's be nice to see how Ann reacts to the still afloat Carl Vinson
Rajvik_wolfboy
Wolf amongst the stars.
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- Florida
I would imagine a smirk and then a sad sigh with either the thought or the words, "At least she made it back, it wasn't for nothing."
NIce very nice... Suggest going through and looking up all the radars through.
The APS-73 is not a system and it it was it be an Airborne system, you probably fat finger the S for the A that in it now. That radar is mainly use for navigation use and not much else, the old SPY1 is the primary air and surface search on USN Destroyers and cruisers.
The Burkes do not have the SPY-3 radar, only the Zumwalts and the Fords have that system, they use the SPY-1 and only the newest of the class, the USS Jack Lucas DDG124, has different with the SPY6, which the navy is looking on replacing all the other phase array radar with.
And the Global Hawk....
Burke class beam: 66 feet wide
Global Hawk wingspan: 130 feet.
They are two big for even carriers to launch properally not to mention not design for it, I suggest looking up the Raven Drones. Basically the modernize version that the Iowa's used in Desert storm. And they can be armed.
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USS Antietam is a Tico. Those AEGIS-equipped US cruisers are longer, about '11ft narrower, and more heavily armed than a Burke-class destroyer.
And still cant carry a Global Hawk drone and still do not have any of the sensor systems I listed on it. Not to mention that the USS Gridley DDG-101 which was said in the fic to have them IS an Arleigh Burke Class.
Reading Comprehension grade: F-
Also Weapons numbers dont meant much these days, computer processing and system set up does. And the Burkes have far better computers and a FAR better set up for ECM and ECCM work. That before you add in a bunch of other nice features. Meanwhile the Tico does have some issues that have plague the ships since their launch in the 80s.
The Navy figures that a Burke will win 3 out of 5 engagements with a Tico. And that number pans out in wargames.
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Let's not get angry here.
USS Antietam was ordered when I was four years old.
Exactly the Ticos are ANCEINT ships. A sixty era destroyer hull design with a heavy anti air weapon systems bolt on that took all the reserve weight.
The navy have done their best, refit them as they could...
But a harded use 30 plus year old ship is a HARD used 30 plus year old ship with all that implies, you can only upgrade a hull so many times before well...
A Burke is a Late eighties design with all that implies, newer tech and better set up with experainces from the fucks up with the Tices taken into account.
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Would you dare to call my parents "ancient" to their faces?
My dad is 73, my mom is 61, and I'm 42. They both look younger than my siblings and I do and I'm the 2nd of 17.