Metamorphosis (Kancolle OC, Crosspost)
- Thread starter TheViciousJoltik
- Start date
Chapter 34
Though it had taken a bit of effort to get everything working, but with the help of her new crew, the young light cruiser had finally managed to get a handle on things. They had all gone through the initial tests together: the radio calibration, and even the basic safety drills… She had watched the small figures intently, committing it all to mind. She had even gone so far as to have recorded the maximum power draw of each tested system…
With only a bit of finagling on her part, alongside a bit of help from her engineers (which were quickly becoming some of her favorite members of her crew), she had managed to permanently allocate a block of her power generation for the important stuff… with a bit of excess at the ready, just in case. The little Imps were trying so hard, that she couldn't help but try to make their jobs easier, even if they couldn't always understand what exactly she was doing.
Unfortunately, it seemed that the rest of her Imps were a bit shy: when she had deployed a life raft for them after one of them had mentioned wondering where one was, the crew doing the structure check had panicked and shot the little rubber escape vessel to pieces with their sidearms.
A waste of rubber if she were to be entirely honest, but sure, weapons tests were important too! She had requested one of her fellows—or perhaps no longer fellow—Minnows to reclaim the raft and break it down before it could fully decompose.
She had been politely requested by her new captain to let the Imps become acquainted with her systems on their own, and to not step in unless specifically requested. And by that, they meant 'asked her specifically', rather than her doing things they weren't prepared for.
01 had agreed, if only due to feeling bad about scaring the assembled, tiny creatures. With that, she had retreated a majority of her own control back to her core room, manifesting just barely enough to stroke the kitten that had taken up shelter within the fortified location. Still, she kept a portion of her attention upon the Imps. After all, there was no way they'd be upset about her merely watching.
After what felt like an eternity of getting their nerves back, the crew had finally felt confident enough to finish the remaining tests. With everything said and done, the Abyssal light cruiser had been confirmed as being seaworthy (with no leaks, blockages, or horrifying monsters… she had no idea what they meant by the last one), and thus it was time to finally show off what she was capable of!
With only a bit of direction from her captain, she was able to fully manifest her rigging, frowning as the weight of the heavy sponsons sunk her into the sand ever so slightly.
She sat through one more 'final check' (seriously, the little Imps were way too worried), but once that was over, she stepped out onto the water, the surface below suddenly feeling as solid as packed dirt. Testing her footing carefully, she finally let out a sigh of relief.
With that, she was off! Tooting her horn once as she waved back at her mother and aunt, she spun up her screws and began sailing off.
According to her clock, that had all happened over half an hour ago. And for all 01 cared, it might have been in the ancient past.
Instead, the light cruiser whooped in joy as her keel skipped across the top of the water, her short hair whipping about in the breeze. Her instruments were declaring her current speed at being a little bit more than thirty five knots: she wasn't quite sure just how much a knot even was, but it definitely felt good to be going this fast!
Her rigging wasn't quite enjoying the beating it was taking from going this fast, but it wasn't enough to do more than cause a bit of discomfort. Still, it was enough to keep her from pushing any further.
Of course, the ex-Minnow wasn't entirely without direction. She had fully agreed with her mother and auntie beforehand about the path she'd taken on her maiden voyage. It'd start with her heading due north to the first large island on her path, then turn westwards around the inner edge of the Bahamas. After that, she'd close the loop by heading east past Black point, and finally northwards alongside the archipelago.
Just barely cresting the horizon, the designated turning point slowly crawled into view. Quickly glancing inwards to check up on her crew, 01 frowned as she spotted several clinging to her instrument panels with white-knuckle grips… did she need to have handholds installed or something? Maybe she'd just have them bolt some chairs to the floor instead…
Either way, the way they were standing seemed uncomfortable. There were so many things to learn, especially regarding keeping her little helpers happy and healthy. Either way, she began to slow down in preparation for the turn.
"Okay! We're coming up on the waypoint now! Do you want me to begin making a turn right away or start when we almost hit the island? I… think a forty five degree turn over the remaining distance should be safe, but I could probably handle a ninety if need be!" 01 chirped, tapping into her own intercom systems to broadcast her thoughts to her little passengers. Right now, only her captain could hear her without using it… and it just felt kinda rude to her to only speak to one member of her crew, when they were supposedly an entire team.
"Er… yes." replied her nervous captain, speaking in their strange, yet fully understandable grunts, growls, and single-word squeaks. "... I was just about to call for the same thing, actually. Though in the future, I'd recommend turning at no sharper than forty degrees, bar an emergency. The faster you go during a turn, the more shallow the angle you need to take, too. Had you not slowed down, I'd have suggested a thirty degree turn instead."
"Oh! Good! I got things right then!" smiled the light cruiser, already rotating her 'body' to best enter a drifting state. She felt a slight spike of pain as she slightly over-twisted an ankle-rotor. Before she even had time to make sense of her mistake, the pain was gone—she let loose a tiny sigh of relief as her Imps proved once more to be right on the ball.
As expected, the crew knew best… who knew what would've happened if she had immediately gone into that ninety degree turn? Would she have just entirely flipped over, or would she have split her ankle? She graciously thanked her captain for averting the potential disaster.
Her instruments were reporting that her fuel consumption was a bit high… but it wasn't even close to the insane amount it had been when her badly calibrated Autopilot was going wild. She'd still definitely need to fully refuel when she made it back home, but it wasn't like fuel was that hard to come by. As a Minnow, she'd just made do by hunting fish, or eating kelp… plus the occasional treat of cabling handed out by mother.
She'd need to up her intake to account for her new form's biggerness, but really… The ocean was just so full of life that it was hard to feel like there was any real food scarcity. It definitely sucked not being able to catch her own fish by herself now, but she could probably convince another Minnow to grab some for her if it really came down to it.
Sending a signal to her crew once more (the Captain had insisted on her always doing so before she called to accelerate, for some reason), she once more cycled power to her screws, rapidly ramping back up to cruising speed.
Even so far out in the ocean, she could easily spot the massive landmass that was supposedly known as 'The United States' to her right. It was frankly astounding to her how large land could be: their home island was just so tiny in comparison. She could hardly imagine how long it'd take her to encircle such a tremendous island…
She froze as her captain spoke up to correct her. What? There was even more land attached to this landmass, further north, south and west?!? Oh. And it was apparently called a continent. 'Multiple months, if not an entire year to go all the way around? No way!'
Shaking her head, the cruiser pointed forwards. "Okay! We're approaching our first destination!"
The fear in her crew was nearly unanimously replaced with confusion. "... What do you mean, 'destination'?" growl-grunted her captain, after pausing for a moment to do math in their head. She could definitely hear them counting out loud… Were they trying to calculate fuel? She couldn't figure out why else they'd be counting backwards…
"No no, mister Captain! We have plenty of fuel! I just wanted to walk across the big island to our west! I've seen it before, but… Well, I've always wanted to walk up and down it, you know? My old form didn't have feet!" smiled the light cruiser, stomping a foot upon the surface of the water in emphasis.
"That isn't—" began the captain, before they sighed in defeat. "If you insist, then I don't think you'd listen even if we told you not to. Please do try to stay on time though, as you are expected to return by tomorrow morning."
01 only giggled in response, shaking her head gently. "I'll stay on time, just watch!"
Indeed, already the huge continent—Island? When did an island become a continent and vice versa?!?
The huge island was rapidly approaching, the one supposedly full of delicious coconuts. She couldn't wait to see what was there…
The light cruiser's eyes were wide as she silently walked through the desolate, ravaged city.
Obscured ever so slightly by the encroaching wilds, she had stumbled across the abandoned locale not long into her little expedition onto the landmass. The shock of seeing such a change had made her drop her armful of coconuts—but thankfully, none had broken, so she was easily able to collect them all again.
This place… a strange heaviness hung in the air, punctuated by a strange, sweet smell. She had stowed her luggage away, too enthralled to look away, and too curious to go on without investigating at least a little.
01 whispered quietly to herself as she stepped down the cracked roads, already so quickly being consumed by the landscape around it. Her rigging had been stowed to conserve fuel and improve her land mobility… but by this point, she was almost regretting hiding away her built-in guns. Every shadow seemed deeper than what was physically possible, and the kitten was working overtime as her spiritual manifestation continued to pet the small, furry beacon of reassurance.
What had… happened to this place?
Her crew could identify some of the damage to the buildings: According to them, the larger holes were caused by the equivalent of battleship main batteries, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. There was nothing here worth sieging: no big factories, no points of interest… There might be a deposit of valuable resources nearby, but in that case it'd have been smarter to just occupy the city, rather than just continue to shell it.
Ffffrick, she couldn't even see the remains of any gun emplacements, let alone any other defensive structure. Sure, there were a few big buildings that might've been manufacturing, but the problem was that everywhere had been shot to heck and back. There wasn't a single structure here that wasn't lacking in at least a few massive holes.
Which led right into her next question. Why use guns? If the intention was to demolish this place, surely there'd have been way more effective ways to do so, right? Whoever had done this all had either been really, really bad at their job… or just didn't have anything else to use.
Quickening her pace again, the light cruiser turned southwards. If she really wanted to get to the bottom of these questions, she could probably just return some other time. For now, she had spent more than long enough on this little detour… her captain was beginning to get impatient.
She'd ask her auntie more about it all. The older battleship knew plenty about warfare—way more than a new cruiser like her ever could. There was probably something here she was overlooking, something obvious.
Sending a ready check through her intercom, the Abyssal did a mental countdown, waiting for her crew Imps to buckle up—
And with a final nod, she broke into a run, eager to leave this spooky, confusing place behind her.
The rest of the trip thankfully returned to a warm normalcy: with a beautiful, open sea below her and a brilliant blue sky above. The joy of going fast had faded ever so slightly, and thus the Abyssal light cruiser had decided to cap herself to cruising speed, one more than fast enough to ensure they remained on schedule.
The slower pace definitely gave 01 more time to enjoy the sensations of sailing, and let her focus a bit more on her own future plans. Even her crew were now taking it far easier, having finally become comfortable enough within her hull to… well, to just relax.
A quick check-in with her engineers had confirmed that she had given them plenty to think about regarding her own functions: heck, the little fellas had even come up with a notarized list of things to fix! Apparently, they demanded a coffee machine—she had no idea what coffee even was, but it was apparently essential for Imp morale. Made her wonder why there was a big argument about wanting it, instead of another thing, supposedly named tea…
Breathing out a sigh, the light cruiser glanced upwards towards the moon cresting high in the sky. She'd only traveled three quarters of the way… and already she felt like she had gotten a good measure of just how large their territory really was. It'd be a pain to manage all of this… but she'd have to find a way. Maybe if she worked her way across, section by section?
But then she'd need to take samples, somehow… She'd need to ask mother about getting a drill or something set up for her to drag around…
Furrowing her brow, she drew her captain into a discussion about her concerns, and how to best split the territory into adequate subsectors to begin surveying for resources—
A strange, crackling screech from her radio necessitated a pause of her important planning.
"Huh? Did you hear that?" she spoke both aloud and through her intercom… fully aware that her Imps had definitely heard the unmistakable noise. Her little code-cracker Imp (they were a radio controller, at least according to her captain), was already dialing in the frequency.
"—sure that this Princess is even here? That Rio girl seemed a bit… messed in the head. We could be chasing ghosts for all we know—or being led right into an ambush." spoke a distorted voice, one that 01 most certainly did not recognise. They sounded like a Ship though, and there wasn't that scary kind of hate that the Prisoner had had before they stopped being so angry.
… In retrospect, the light cruiser wished she had been able to speak, back then. It'd be nice to have a name to put to the Prisoner's face, rather than keep referring to her as such.
But back to the present! Who were the girls on the radio? Maybe she'd sail up and say hello! It'd be really nice to make a new friend or two… Their little fleet was still really small, and while auntie was great to talk to, she got a feeling sometimes the Re wanted some time to herself—
01 winced, as her captain immediately slammed one of her control panels, speaking a very unkind word as they did.
Depths below, fine, she'd be a little safe, and not just rush in to say hello. Grabbing a hold of the signal frequency, she connected her voice to the radio. She then spoke aloud, ready to flee if necessary.
"Hello!" spoke the Abyssal light cruiser not-demon, a gentle smile upon her lips. "Who are you looking for? I've just about finished up on my journey: after I'm done, I could help you look if you'd like?"
Immediately, the line went silent, and the radio controller Imp had to ensure that the machine hadn't broken. 01 looked into the device as well: it was fully connected, was drawing power as expected, and hadn't overheated or suffered damage—
"... Hello? Please identify yourself." stated a second, much more mature-sounding voice. They had the same sort of grit that 01's auntie did, like they had been through a lot…
"My name's 01!" smiled the Abyssal, glad to have not accidentally broken anything. "I'm on my maiden voyage around our territory! Are you also Ships?"
… Why were her Imps going stark white all of a sudden?
With only a bit of finagling on her part, alongside a bit of help from her engineers (which were quickly becoming some of her favorite members of her crew), she had managed to permanently allocate a block of her power generation for the important stuff… with a bit of excess at the ready, just in case. The little Imps were trying so hard, that she couldn't help but try to make their jobs easier, even if they couldn't always understand what exactly she was doing.
Unfortunately, it seemed that the rest of her Imps were a bit shy: when she had deployed a life raft for them after one of them had mentioned wondering where one was, the crew doing the structure check had panicked and shot the little rubber escape vessel to pieces with their sidearms.
A waste of rubber if she were to be entirely honest, but sure, weapons tests were important too! She had requested one of her fellows—or perhaps no longer fellow—Minnows to reclaim the raft and break it down before it could fully decompose.
She had been politely requested by her new captain to let the Imps become acquainted with her systems on their own, and to not step in unless specifically requested. And by that, they meant 'asked her specifically', rather than her doing things they weren't prepared for.
01 had agreed, if only due to feeling bad about scaring the assembled, tiny creatures. With that, she had retreated a majority of her own control back to her core room, manifesting just barely enough to stroke the kitten that had taken up shelter within the fortified location. Still, she kept a portion of her attention upon the Imps. After all, there was no way they'd be upset about her merely watching.
After what felt like an eternity of getting their nerves back, the crew had finally felt confident enough to finish the remaining tests. With everything said and done, the Abyssal light cruiser had been confirmed as being seaworthy (with no leaks, blockages, or horrifying monsters… she had no idea what they meant by the last one), and thus it was time to finally show off what she was capable of!
With only a bit of direction from her captain, she was able to fully manifest her rigging, frowning as the weight of the heavy sponsons sunk her into the sand ever so slightly.
She sat through one more 'final check' (seriously, the little Imps were way too worried), but once that was over, she stepped out onto the water, the surface below suddenly feeling as solid as packed dirt. Testing her footing carefully, she finally let out a sigh of relief.
With that, she was off! Tooting her horn once as she waved back at her mother and aunt, she spun up her screws and began sailing off.
According to her clock, that had all happened over half an hour ago. And for all 01 cared, it might have been in the ancient past.
Instead, the light cruiser whooped in joy as her keel skipped across the top of the water, her short hair whipping about in the breeze. Her instruments were declaring her current speed at being a little bit more than thirty five knots: she wasn't quite sure just how much a knot even was, but it definitely felt good to be going this fast!
Her rigging wasn't quite enjoying the beating it was taking from going this fast, but it wasn't enough to do more than cause a bit of discomfort. Still, it was enough to keep her from pushing any further.
Of course, the ex-Minnow wasn't entirely without direction. She had fully agreed with her mother and auntie beforehand about the path she'd taken on her maiden voyage. It'd start with her heading due north to the first large island on her path, then turn westwards around the inner edge of the Bahamas. After that, she'd close the loop by heading east past Black point, and finally northwards alongside the archipelago.
Just barely cresting the horizon, the designated turning point slowly crawled into view. Quickly glancing inwards to check up on her crew, 01 frowned as she spotted several clinging to her instrument panels with white-knuckle grips… did she need to have handholds installed or something? Maybe she'd just have them bolt some chairs to the floor instead…
Either way, the way they were standing seemed uncomfortable. There were so many things to learn, especially regarding keeping her little helpers happy and healthy. Either way, she began to slow down in preparation for the turn.
"Okay! We're coming up on the waypoint now! Do you want me to begin making a turn right away or start when we almost hit the island? I… think a forty five degree turn over the remaining distance should be safe, but I could probably handle a ninety if need be!" 01 chirped, tapping into her own intercom systems to broadcast her thoughts to her little passengers. Right now, only her captain could hear her without using it… and it just felt kinda rude to her to only speak to one member of her crew, when they were supposedly an entire team.
"Er… yes." replied her nervous captain, speaking in their strange, yet fully understandable grunts, growls, and single-word squeaks. "... I was just about to call for the same thing, actually. Though in the future, I'd recommend turning at no sharper than forty degrees, bar an emergency. The faster you go during a turn, the more shallow the angle you need to take, too. Had you not slowed down, I'd have suggested a thirty degree turn instead."
"Oh! Good! I got things right then!" smiled the light cruiser, already rotating her 'body' to best enter a drifting state. She felt a slight spike of pain as she slightly over-twisted an ankle-rotor. Before she even had time to make sense of her mistake, the pain was gone—she let loose a tiny sigh of relief as her Imps proved once more to be right on the ball.
As expected, the crew knew best… who knew what would've happened if she had immediately gone into that ninety degree turn? Would she have just entirely flipped over, or would she have split her ankle? She graciously thanked her captain for averting the potential disaster.
Her instruments were reporting that her fuel consumption was a bit high… but it wasn't even close to the insane amount it had been when her badly calibrated Autopilot was going wild. She'd still definitely need to fully refuel when she made it back home, but it wasn't like fuel was that hard to come by. As a Minnow, she'd just made do by hunting fish, or eating kelp… plus the occasional treat of cabling handed out by mother.
She'd need to up her intake to account for her new form's biggerness, but really… The ocean was just so full of life that it was hard to feel like there was any real food scarcity. It definitely sucked not being able to catch her own fish by herself now, but she could probably convince another Minnow to grab some for her if it really came down to it.
Sending a signal to her crew once more (the Captain had insisted on her always doing so before she called to accelerate, for some reason), she once more cycled power to her screws, rapidly ramping back up to cruising speed.
Even so far out in the ocean, she could easily spot the massive landmass that was supposedly known as 'The United States' to her right. It was frankly astounding to her how large land could be: their home island was just so tiny in comparison. She could hardly imagine how long it'd take her to encircle such a tremendous island…
She froze as her captain spoke up to correct her. What? There was even more land attached to this landmass, further north, south and west?!? Oh. And it was apparently called a continent. 'Multiple months, if not an entire year to go all the way around? No way!'
Shaking her head, the cruiser pointed forwards. "Okay! We're approaching our first destination!"
The fear in her crew was nearly unanimously replaced with confusion. "... What do you mean, 'destination'?" growl-grunted her captain, after pausing for a moment to do math in their head. She could definitely hear them counting out loud… Were they trying to calculate fuel? She couldn't figure out why else they'd be counting backwards…
"No no, mister Captain! We have plenty of fuel! I just wanted to walk across the big island to our west! I've seen it before, but… Well, I've always wanted to walk up and down it, you know? My old form didn't have feet!" smiled the light cruiser, stomping a foot upon the surface of the water in emphasis.
"That isn't—" began the captain, before they sighed in defeat. "If you insist, then I don't think you'd listen even if we told you not to. Please do try to stay on time though, as you are expected to return by tomorrow morning."
01 only giggled in response, shaking her head gently. "I'll stay on time, just watch!"
Indeed, already the huge continent—Island? When did an island become a continent and vice versa?!?
The huge island was rapidly approaching, the one supposedly full of delicious coconuts. She couldn't wait to see what was there…
The light cruiser's eyes were wide as she silently walked through the desolate, ravaged city.
Obscured ever so slightly by the encroaching wilds, she had stumbled across the abandoned locale not long into her little expedition onto the landmass. The shock of seeing such a change had made her drop her armful of coconuts—but thankfully, none had broken, so she was easily able to collect them all again.
This place… a strange heaviness hung in the air, punctuated by a strange, sweet smell. She had stowed her luggage away, too enthralled to look away, and too curious to go on without investigating at least a little.
01 whispered quietly to herself as she stepped down the cracked roads, already so quickly being consumed by the landscape around it. Her rigging had been stowed to conserve fuel and improve her land mobility… but by this point, she was almost regretting hiding away her built-in guns. Every shadow seemed deeper than what was physically possible, and the kitten was working overtime as her spiritual manifestation continued to pet the small, furry beacon of reassurance.
What had… happened to this place?
Her crew could identify some of the damage to the buildings: According to them, the larger holes were caused by the equivalent of battleship main batteries, but for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. There was nothing here worth sieging: no big factories, no points of interest… There might be a deposit of valuable resources nearby, but in that case it'd have been smarter to just occupy the city, rather than just continue to shell it.
Ffffrick, she couldn't even see the remains of any gun emplacements, let alone any other defensive structure. Sure, there were a few big buildings that might've been manufacturing, but the problem was that everywhere had been shot to heck and back. There wasn't a single structure here that wasn't lacking in at least a few massive holes.
Which led right into her next question. Why use guns? If the intention was to demolish this place, surely there'd have been way more effective ways to do so, right? Whoever had done this all had either been really, really bad at their job… or just didn't have anything else to use.
Quickening her pace again, the light cruiser turned southwards. If she really wanted to get to the bottom of these questions, she could probably just return some other time. For now, she had spent more than long enough on this little detour… her captain was beginning to get impatient.
She'd ask her auntie more about it all. The older battleship knew plenty about warfare—way more than a new cruiser like her ever could. There was probably something here she was overlooking, something obvious.
Sending a ready check through her intercom, the Abyssal did a mental countdown, waiting for her crew Imps to buckle up—
And with a final nod, she broke into a run, eager to leave this spooky, confusing place behind her.
The rest of the trip thankfully returned to a warm normalcy: with a beautiful, open sea below her and a brilliant blue sky above. The joy of going fast had faded ever so slightly, and thus the Abyssal light cruiser had decided to cap herself to cruising speed, one more than fast enough to ensure they remained on schedule.
The slower pace definitely gave 01 more time to enjoy the sensations of sailing, and let her focus a bit more on her own future plans. Even her crew were now taking it far easier, having finally become comfortable enough within her hull to… well, to just relax.
A quick check-in with her engineers had confirmed that she had given them plenty to think about regarding her own functions: heck, the little fellas had even come up with a notarized list of things to fix! Apparently, they demanded a coffee machine—she had no idea what coffee even was, but it was apparently essential for Imp morale. Made her wonder why there was a big argument about wanting it, instead of another thing, supposedly named tea…
Breathing out a sigh, the light cruiser glanced upwards towards the moon cresting high in the sky. She'd only traveled three quarters of the way… and already she felt like she had gotten a good measure of just how large their territory really was. It'd be a pain to manage all of this… but she'd have to find a way. Maybe if she worked her way across, section by section?
But then she'd need to take samples, somehow… She'd need to ask mother about getting a drill or something set up for her to drag around…
Furrowing her brow, she drew her captain into a discussion about her concerns, and how to best split the territory into adequate subsectors to begin surveying for resources—
A strange, crackling screech from her radio necessitated a pause of her important planning.
"Huh? Did you hear that?" she spoke both aloud and through her intercom… fully aware that her Imps had definitely heard the unmistakable noise. Her little code-cracker Imp (they were a radio controller, at least according to her captain), was already dialing in the frequency.
"—sure that this Princess is even here? That Rio girl seemed a bit… messed in the head. We could be chasing ghosts for all we know—or being led right into an ambush." spoke a distorted voice, one that 01 most certainly did not recognise. They sounded like a Ship though, and there wasn't that scary kind of hate that the Prisoner had had before they stopped being so angry.
… In retrospect, the light cruiser wished she had been able to speak, back then. It'd be nice to have a name to put to the Prisoner's face, rather than keep referring to her as such.
But back to the present! Who were the girls on the radio? Maybe she'd sail up and say hello! It'd be really nice to make a new friend or two… Their little fleet was still really small, and while auntie was great to talk to, she got a feeling sometimes the Re wanted some time to herself—
01 winced, as her captain immediately slammed one of her control panels, speaking a very unkind word as they did.
Depths below, fine, she'd be a little safe, and not just rush in to say hello. Grabbing a hold of the signal frequency, she connected her voice to the radio. She then spoke aloud, ready to flee if necessary.
"Hello!" spoke the Abyssal light cruiser not-demon, a gentle smile upon her lips. "Who are you looking for? I've just about finished up on my journey: after I'm done, I could help you look if you'd like?"
Immediately, the line went silent, and the radio controller Imp had to ensure that the machine hadn't broken. 01 looked into the device as well: it was fully connected, was drawing power as expected, and hadn't overheated or suffered damage—
"... Hello? Please identify yourself." stated a second, much more mature-sounding voice. They had the same sort of grit that 01's auntie did, like they had been through a lot…
"My name's 01!" smiled the Abyssal, glad to have not accidentally broken anything. "I'm on my maiden voyage around our territory! Are you also Ships?"
… Why were her Imps going stark white all of a sudden?
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Fried_Chicken
CRISPY, Terrific, EXCELLENT, Yummy, and DELICIOUS.
- Location
- An oven near you today!
Lovely, just lovely! Really like this slice of life-y fic with just the right amount of funny 'humans panicking' and abyssal spookyness. Really like how you did the Abyssal influence!
Chapter 35
The old museum-ship rolled her shoulders as she scanned the horizon, glad that the only rust still afflicting her after her awakening was nothing more than metaphorical.
Her sister had returned weeks ago and was already out kicking butt and taking names… And in the face of that, what excuse did she have to sit around and just watch? Besides, Tirpitz had already answered the call, and if that lazy, layabout Kriegsmarine ship had continued to take action before she was able to take a single step, she'd never hear the end of it.
With resolution in her heart, the battleship North Carolina had all but clawed her way back to reality, manifesting in physical form just as so many other Shipgirls already had. She had saluted a confused pair of attendants and politely asked to be put on the frontlines. She'd seen very little of the war through her slumber, but it was obvious that America could always need more battleships.
Unfortunately, it seemed that her prudent return had, well… left many questioning if she was entirely ready yet. Only slightly frustrated at being rebuked, the freshly-summoned Shipgirl took it in stride, settling for helping her country in any way she could. Playing defense was just as important as taking the fight to the enemy, after all.
And thus, she was here now.
If the awakened battleship was entirely honest with herself, the Admiralty were absolutely spoiling her, offering her the job they did. Although the mission was obviously seen as less-important in the grand scheme of things, it still left her acting as a part of a spearhead pointed into unknown territory. Although technically it could be seen at a glance as nothing more than a simple mission to just prove herself, NorCar knew better. If everything went perfectly, this mission could be enough on its own to springboard her all the way up to serve beside her sister, Washington.
Around her were several of her peers and fellow American Shipgirls, with yet even more waiting back at the nearest naval base, ready to reinforce if needed. All she needed to do was provide a strong front, and if the worst came to worst, serve as muscle long enough for the cavalry to arrive.
Within their small little task group, the collected Shipgirls had everything they needed to tussle with whatever lay to the south, including the confirmed Re-Class… The problem was that the Re was the only confirmed ship within this new Princess's fleet. It was frankly astonishing just how little the spooks knew about the enemy here.
While it was entirely plausible to just sail southwards to the Abyssal island base, the once-human lands had degraded to near-wilderness. The extra foliage was more than enough to render Archerfish's own scouting attempts nearly worthless. No matter how hard the submarine had looked, she couldn't locate the Abyssal buildings she knew lurked within. Sure, she had found a single Abyssal structure, a repair pool… and according to the spooks, those tended to only show up in the presence of an Installation. There was also what appeared to be bedding nearby, meaning that the Re was likely stationed there as a guard.
What the Princess of the area had offered to convince an insane aviation battleship to take guard duty was frankly horrifying to consider… and thus the attention had been turned towards the still undiscovered, but likely less fortified structures hiding on the island. However, with said structures certainly not volunteering to share their position for an in-depth inspection, it'd give the Abyssal forces on the island plenty of time to surround them and take the tactical advantage…
With all of these disturbing factors in play, the task force had temporarily anchored at Bonds Cay, awaiting further instructions from high command. Well-prepared or not, none of the Shipgirls were particularly enthused about sailing directly into a fortification without a proper plan. With the enemy numbers still very much unknown, their Essex had released a few scout planes, intent on getting at least some intel on the area…
What the spooks had managed to tell them about the Abyssal Princess lurking in the area was a whole big contradictory mess.
Dubbed the Anomaly Princess by several Florida officials, the as-of-yet unidentified Abyssal most certainly lived up to her name. Despite the menace of her presence and continued activity in the area, her actual confirmed kill count remained relatively minimal, with really only a single sunken destroyer and a comparatively little amount of collateral damage to her name. It was enough to convince the Admiralty to be wary of her, but compared to the blatant extermination campaigns that the other demon-ships routinely participated in, it was a welcome distraction.
The action that apparently had crossed the line—the abduction of a newly summoned Shipgirl—had been de-escalated. Not by a negotiation, or by any sort of action of the humans, mind you… but rather by the Princess themselves. The ex-hostage had arrived on American soil rattled from the experience, but with an air of grim determination. They were entirely disarmed, but otherwise undamaged.
NorCar had been able to talk to the Bahia-class cruiser herself… and had immediately gotten the impression of a criminal having narrowly escaped the death penalty, desperate to reform. As always, this led to yet more questions, with still no answers to show.
Sighing and pulling herself back to the present, the battleship looked over her fellow fleet members, taking stock of the situation once more.
The group had of course a customary screen of Fletchers, including the nameship herself—Fletcher had directly volunteered to be in the forward force, muttering something about a 'super submarine', and how she 'needed to see for herself'.
Their Essex-Class carrier sat nearest the shore watching videos of kittens on a portable phone, even as their scout planes continued their investigation. With AA capabilities of the enemy unknown, the planes had chosen more cautious routes. They would scout the surroundings of the island, rather than risk a direct flight overhead.
So far, they had done nothing but confirm the existence of the Abyssal Repair Pool from overhead… missing its Re guard dog. Even more concerns to add to the pile.
Archerfish, their submarine, had debated going back one last time to find an adequate place to make land, but had been talked down by the entire task group. Even if it could have helped, at this point they needed to remain unified. They had two experienced Shipgirls vouching for a single course of action: stay close together, or else the Princess would pick them off.
One of them, USS Johnston, was waiting in the wings, all but declaring that she was the one that wanted to sink the elusive Abyssal, to re-earn her stolen pride. If words came to blows, the Taffy would likely be all too able to put actions to her declaration. As for the other Shipgirl to have experience in the situation…
USS Helena awkwardly wrung her hands in the shadow of a tree, posture slumped and head held low. Of all of the ships on hand, this unfortunate light cruiser had been 'nominated' to be the one to open communications with the Abyssal Princess directly. While many of the fleet had written the idea off as insanity, Helena had insisted: she could get through to this particular Princess, and if she never tried, she'd never be able to forgive herself.
North Carolina snorted, rolling her eyes. An idealistic view for such a bizarre situation… But who was she to judge? She was even fresher than the light cruiser was, after all. For their hubris of proposing a functional plan for dealing with the Princess, the St. Louis-Class light cruiser had been made the leader of the current task group, piling yet even more weight upon their shoulders. Fletcher had been the choice they would've gone with otherwise, but strangely the destroyer had been entirely fine with giving up the leading role.
The other light cruiser, USS Trenton, had none of that particular kind of baggage, merely being content to keep watch, eyes trained to the south. In comparison, Helena looked like someone with the weight of far too much authority resting upon her shoulders.
"D-do you think we'll be able to pull this off?" whispered Helena to Fletcher. Their fear and uncertainty were more clear as crystal, and the destroyer was biting their lip, trying to come up with a response.
North Carolina decided to speak up. "They're definitely not acting like any of the other Abyssals. From what I've heard from Washington, the average one of those monochrome monsters aren't ones for thinking all that clearly. Running into one that's willing to talk to you is already miles ahead of the others… So who knows?"
Helena drooped slightly. What, was she expecting more? "Oh…"
"Assuming that this is actually her main base, and not just a staging ground." The Omaha-class cut in, turning back to the group with a frown. "Are you sure that this Princess is even here? That Rio girl seemed a bit… messed in the head. We could be chasing ghosts for all we know—or being led right into an ambush."
The group hummed, considering the option. On one hand, it was definitely possible… but if it were true, that would mean that the Navy had overlooked not one, but two Abyssal bases.
Needless to say, the idea definitely turned the stomach to consider.
"Hello!" chimed in a friendly, unidentified voice over the radio. "Who are you looking for? I've just about finished up on my journey: after I'm done, I could help you look if you'd like?"
Immediately, all communications were switched to another secure channel.
The group met gazes as the silence reigned for several moments.
"Who was that?!?" whisper-shouted Trenton, nervously scanning the water for any intrusion. "We made sure that there were no other Shipgirls in the area—and that definitely didn't sound like an Abyssal."
Fletcher nodded slowly. "Johnston was insistent: don't trust any unknown voices you hear, even if they're friendly. The Princess apparently tried to talk to her first before she attacked her. We need to be really, really careful. What should we do?"
Helena merely gulped, as the collected Ships turned slowly towards her. "W-what?"
"What do you suggest we do, Helena?" gently prompted North Carolina, doing her very best to avoid losing her own composure.
As the scout cruiser had put it, there was no hostility in the stranger's voice, no inherent wrongness… But the message was clear. Whoever this ship was, they had happily sailed around an Abyssal's territory, seemingly entirely without fear. It was possible that they were just stupid, but it was far, far more likely that they considered this area their own home instead.
Breathing in slowly, Helena seemingly ran down some possibilities in her head, before finally speaking up. "Whoever they are, they definitely seem to know the area. We should… make contact, and see if they know anything about the Abyssals. They offered to help us find who we're looking for… at the very least, they can point us in the right direction."
There were nods all around, although not all of them were as confident as the rest. Helena merely grimaced, before turning towards North Carolina. "Can you be the one to open communications? The Princess knows my voice—if I speak up, then they might know something's up and run. I'd ask Fletcher…"
Fletcher smiled, rolling her eyes. "She heard me talk, too. It's best if it's someone new."
More like the light cruiser was just too nervous to take the first step, and the destroyer was just playing along. The battleship cracked a tiny smile, but still did as bidden. With the flip of a channel, she broadcasted out, simply and clearly.
".. Hello? Please identify yourself." stated the battleship, throwing her voice out into the void, knowing full well that dark creatures lurked nearby.
There was a pause, during which the ships kept their eyes peeled, waiting for a strike, a feint, or any sort of misdirection—
Instead, the voice replied again, genuine warmth all to clear to hear.
"My name's 01! I'm on my maiden voyage around our territory! Are you also Ships?"
Silence, again.
"'Their' territory." stated Fletcher, immediately switching back to secure. "No doubt about it: that's an Abyssal."
Archerfish frowned, but nodded all the same. "She doesn't sound like an Abyssal though. She sounds… really, really friendly, actually? Most Abyssals have some sort of weird thing with their voice—gives you a gross feeling that drives you nuts… but this one doesn't?"
Sadly, NorCar couldn't affirm or deny that. "I wouldn't know… But it sounds like they're alone. If we wanted to, we could… capture her?"
The group exchanged glances once again. On one hand, they'd have the perfect prisoner for negotiation—assuming the Princess actually cared about her minions. On the other hand, said minion was on their Maiden Voyage.
No words needed to be said as the group unanimously shook their heads. A Maiden Voyage was a ship's first experience with the wider world. Abyssal or not, sinking someone on one was a taboo none of them were willing to commit. If the unidentified ship was lying, of course, there'd be hell to pay… but for now, they'd give them the benefit of the doubt.
Still, what sort of name was Zero One? Perhaps the Abyssal wasn't as benevolent as they seemed, if they were unwilling to name their vessels.
"Hello. I am USS North Carolina. Yes, we are Shipgirls. What is your current location?"
A bit too on the nose for the battleship's taste, but quite frankly, no one here had any idea what the heck was going on. Already, a plane had been sent north by their Essex to pass the information on—And a serious part of NorCar hoped that this 'Abyssal' was telling the truth.
"Do you think we can convince them to approach us?" spoke up Helena, once more on the secure line.
"Uh…" spoke up the Maybe-Abyssal, their voice growing a slight amount of hesitation. "My captain is saying I shouldn't tell you, since I don't know you. Um, are you here to cause trouble?"
Helena sighed, before finally deciding to step in directly. Either way, the Princess would find out she was here. "Hello, 01. My name is USS—"
"Oh!" interrupted the Abyssal, their tone immediately snapping to one of recognition and joy. "Miss Stranger!"
Once again, Helena's expression was one of bewilderment. "Uh… Do I know you?"
"Yep!" The unidentified vessel's smile was almost as audible as their own words. "It's okay, mister Captain: I can trust Miss Stranger! Mom let her go without hurting her and everything!"
Fletcher rolled her eyes, elbowing Helena. "Dunno, Helena, do you think you can convince her to approach us?
"Shush!" whispered Helena, before clearing her throat. "We're located near Bonds Cay. Are you aware of where that is?"
"Oh! Definitely! I was there only yesterday, actually!" smiled the Abyssal, apparently needing no further convincing. "I'm approaching now, my estimated time for arrival is five minutes. Seriously, mister Captain, relax."
"Should we be concerned that she's having an argument with her captain… on open comms, no less?" questioned Archerfish. "My fairies tend to just… go along with whatever I'm doing."
Fletcher only sighed, and shook her head. "Really, is this any weirder than anything else with this Abyssal Fleet? What's one more weirdness on top of it all?"
North Carolina couldn't help but agree. Still, she wondered just what their new contact was, behind the voice. They sounded young… But that might very well just be because they were freshly constructed.
The answer arrived without any real fanfare, as a monochrome Shipgirl sailed into view, her hair whipping behind her as she held a hand up over her eyes, scanning the distance. Archerfish had long since dove back in the water, just in case: the last thing they wanted was for the potential enemy to be made aware of their submarine's presence.
Fletcher was the first to speak up. "That's… not an Abyssal. There's not enough teeth. None of the other freaky stuff either… Heck, her Rigging is a rigging, not some sort of terrifying monster!"
Indeed, as the pale-colored Shipgirl approached, their details became more and more obvious. There were no obvious traces of the standard Abyssal monstrousness NorCar had seen in the dossiers, with only their desaturated color palette being a signifier of their origin. Instead, they seemed directly patterned after…
"Hey, she looks a bit like Helena!" spoke up Fletcher, gesturing towards several sections of the approaching ship's hull.
"N-no they d—" began Helena… before she paused, glancing down at the ocean below to make sure. The fact she didn't continue her line of thought spoke volumes.
North Carolina, meanwhile, furrowed her brow as she looked closer. No, it wasn't a perfect copy, not at all. If anything, they looked like a mixture between a St. Louis and…
"... She looks a bit like the hostage." she spoke aloud, unable to keep the words within her own lips.
The group of shipgirls fell to silence, trying to process those words. Thankfully, it seemed 01 was more than talkative enough to overtake the silence.
"Hello!" waved the light cruiser hybrid, coming to a stop only a few hundred yards from the docked fleet. "I'd have said hi my first time around, but I must've just missed you! Do you want to be friends?"
Their smile was genuine and practically radiant… and the battleship was beginning to wonder how a Princess had somehow managed to weaponize cuteness. Already, their Essex had been drawn away from their videos, yet the gaze she had upon the girl was nearly the same.
Helena sighed, and after confirming her intention with the rest of the task group, sailed out to meet the new visitor.
For several, tense seconds, the shipgirls had their fingers on the metaphorical trigger, fully expecting for things to go wrong.
Instead, as the two finally closed the distance, and properly introduced one another, the newly-constructed light cruiser breathed in—
And proceeded to nearly talk Helena's metaphorical ears off.
The battleship shook her head as she watched the Abyssal light cruiser Demon continue to babble happily to the assembled Shipgirls.
Wasn't that a surprise? Apparently, the Re had identified her as one, though the incredibly naive Abyssal did not know the meaning of the word, and her 'mother' had apparently disliked the moniker, too. 01 definitely didn't assign the classification much importance: she had let it slip out during introductions without even a single care.
Instead of the newly identified Abyssal squad leader choosing violence, she had taken to the group like a lost duckling, asking question after question about land, about the ocean, and about the greater world around them. It was frankly pretty overwhelming… which is why Helena and Trenton had taken turns swapping out between serving as educators and quietly freaking out with the rest of the fleet.
Either this 01 was a master manipulator, the likes of which the world hasn't ever seen… Or they were significantly different from the other Abyssals which haunted the oceans. Again and again, the battleship had found herself nearly forgetting the young ship's origin, only to be reminded of such by 01 themselves whenever they brought up just how alien their habits were.
At some point during the conversation, the Abyssal's guns had begun to move, seemingly on their own—thankfully though, the incident was resolved quickly without bloodshed. Upon being made aware of the rotating weaponry, the Abyssal Demon had frowned, before apologizing and chastising her crew out loud for pointing guns at 'friends'. She then declared that she had sealed off access to her gunnery positions and locked the ammunition stockpiles until her Imps could 'behave'.
That she was even able to do that was another mystery left unsolved, but at the very least it was reassuring in its own, highly concerning way. It had taken some time to calm everyone down, but the amalgam light cruiser's guns hadn't moved an inch after all of that. In the end, everyone had just chosen to ignore that little misstep, and all of the unhappy little implications that came along with it.
From what the other two light cruisers had been able to (very easily) glean from 01, the Abyssal fleet was tightly knit and fiercely protective of one another, though the fairies (Imps. They were Imps, apparently), were heavily insistent on her not stating the exact force numbers of the fleet.
Already, it was pretty obvious that the Demon saw Helena as a friend and role model—though exactly how she knew the Shipgirl cruiser was still up in the air. Helena had been insistent in return: she had only ever interacted with the Princess, and even that was in limited capacity.
Another mystery, one that seemingly refused to be answered. When they had asked 01 about it directly, the Abyssal had only stated that Helena had seen her around before, and that she had actually been around for the entirety of her interrogation… Yet could provide no better explanation as to how, saying that her memories back then were a little bit hazy.
Either way, it seemed that the little Abyssal had finally learned their fill on the state of the wider world, and was currently in the process of learning how to properly use an anchor from Fletcher.
Helena sighed, as she turned back to North Carolina. "Do you think we could ask her to take her to her Princess?"
"You definitely could." shrugged the battleship. "She seems to love you. It's almost a bit unnerving—she almost seems to look at you like a big sister."
"I'm not sure about the sister part. She seems to just love everyone." Helena couldn't help it—she let out a restrained, nervous chuckle, at the sheer absurdity of it all. "She's nearly as excitable as a destroyer at an ice cream parlor… Never thought I'd see that in an Abyssal."
North Carolina sighed. "With luck, she'll be able to help us get the Princess on our side. I'd actually feel bad if we hurt the little cruiser… What is the world coming to when these supposedly 'all evil' Abyssals are able to pull off emotional manipulation?"
Helena shook her head in good nature. "Trust me, I don't think even our elusive Anomaly Princess is capable of planning that far ahead. Our Guest seems way too genuine to be a ploy. I get the feeling the only reason she's not asking to permanently join us is because she honestly seems to care about her fleet. I'll… ask her to start taking us to her Princess. It seems like a safer option than the rest. I doubt their fortifications will shoot at us if we're traveling with her."
As Helena sailed over to sell the idea to their guest, North Carolina let out a slow breath.
Really, after a display such as that, she desired a peaceful outcome out of this all more than ever. Because really, if things turned to war here… it wouldn't just be them that suffered.
As she watched the Abyssal light cruiser be walked through how to properly judge water depth by the fleet's carrier, the battleship let out a pained sigh.
Maybe, as a fresh summon, she hadn't yet had time to become jaded. But perhaps, in the midst of this ongoing war… there really would be a chance for a small, fragile peace.
She just hoped that she wasn't wrong. For everyone's sake, not just their own.
… That said, it would be nice if their Guest had a real name.
Her sister had returned weeks ago and was already out kicking butt and taking names… And in the face of that, what excuse did she have to sit around and just watch? Besides, Tirpitz had already answered the call, and if that lazy, layabout Kriegsmarine ship had continued to take action before she was able to take a single step, she'd never hear the end of it.
With resolution in her heart, the battleship North Carolina had all but clawed her way back to reality, manifesting in physical form just as so many other Shipgirls already had. She had saluted a confused pair of attendants and politely asked to be put on the frontlines. She'd seen very little of the war through her slumber, but it was obvious that America could always need more battleships.
Unfortunately, it seemed that her prudent return had, well… left many questioning if she was entirely ready yet. Only slightly frustrated at being rebuked, the freshly-summoned Shipgirl took it in stride, settling for helping her country in any way she could. Playing defense was just as important as taking the fight to the enemy, after all.
And thus, she was here now.
If the awakened battleship was entirely honest with herself, the Admiralty were absolutely spoiling her, offering her the job they did. Although the mission was obviously seen as less-important in the grand scheme of things, it still left her acting as a part of a spearhead pointed into unknown territory. Although technically it could be seen at a glance as nothing more than a simple mission to just prove herself, NorCar knew better. If everything went perfectly, this mission could be enough on its own to springboard her all the way up to serve beside her sister, Washington.
Around her were several of her peers and fellow American Shipgirls, with yet even more waiting back at the nearest naval base, ready to reinforce if needed. All she needed to do was provide a strong front, and if the worst came to worst, serve as muscle long enough for the cavalry to arrive.
Within their small little task group, the collected Shipgirls had everything they needed to tussle with whatever lay to the south, including the confirmed Re-Class… The problem was that the Re was the only confirmed ship within this new Princess's fleet. It was frankly astonishing just how little the spooks knew about the enemy here.
While it was entirely plausible to just sail southwards to the Abyssal island base, the once-human lands had degraded to near-wilderness. The extra foliage was more than enough to render Archerfish's own scouting attempts nearly worthless. No matter how hard the submarine had looked, she couldn't locate the Abyssal buildings she knew lurked within. Sure, she had found a single Abyssal structure, a repair pool… and according to the spooks, those tended to only show up in the presence of an Installation. There was also what appeared to be bedding nearby, meaning that the Re was likely stationed there as a guard.
What the Princess of the area had offered to convince an insane aviation battleship to take guard duty was frankly horrifying to consider… and thus the attention had been turned towards the still undiscovered, but likely less fortified structures hiding on the island. However, with said structures certainly not volunteering to share their position for an in-depth inspection, it'd give the Abyssal forces on the island plenty of time to surround them and take the tactical advantage…
With all of these disturbing factors in play, the task force had temporarily anchored at Bonds Cay, awaiting further instructions from high command. Well-prepared or not, none of the Shipgirls were particularly enthused about sailing directly into a fortification without a proper plan. With the enemy numbers still very much unknown, their Essex had released a few scout planes, intent on getting at least some intel on the area…
What the spooks had managed to tell them about the Abyssal Princess lurking in the area was a whole big contradictory mess.
Dubbed the Anomaly Princess by several Florida officials, the as-of-yet unidentified Abyssal most certainly lived up to her name. Despite the menace of her presence and continued activity in the area, her actual confirmed kill count remained relatively minimal, with really only a single sunken destroyer and a comparatively little amount of collateral damage to her name. It was enough to convince the Admiralty to be wary of her, but compared to the blatant extermination campaigns that the other demon-ships routinely participated in, it was a welcome distraction.
The action that apparently had crossed the line—the abduction of a newly summoned Shipgirl—had been de-escalated. Not by a negotiation, or by any sort of action of the humans, mind you… but rather by the Princess themselves. The ex-hostage had arrived on American soil rattled from the experience, but with an air of grim determination. They were entirely disarmed, but otherwise undamaged.
NorCar had been able to talk to the Bahia-class cruiser herself… and had immediately gotten the impression of a criminal having narrowly escaped the death penalty, desperate to reform. As always, this led to yet more questions, with still no answers to show.
Sighing and pulling herself back to the present, the battleship looked over her fellow fleet members, taking stock of the situation once more.
The group had of course a customary screen of Fletchers, including the nameship herself—Fletcher had directly volunteered to be in the forward force, muttering something about a 'super submarine', and how she 'needed to see for herself'.
Their Essex-Class carrier sat nearest the shore watching videos of kittens on a portable phone, even as their scout planes continued their investigation. With AA capabilities of the enemy unknown, the planes had chosen more cautious routes. They would scout the surroundings of the island, rather than risk a direct flight overhead.
So far, they had done nothing but confirm the existence of the Abyssal Repair Pool from overhead… missing its Re guard dog. Even more concerns to add to the pile.
Archerfish, their submarine, had debated going back one last time to find an adequate place to make land, but had been talked down by the entire task group. Even if it could have helped, at this point they needed to remain unified. They had two experienced Shipgirls vouching for a single course of action: stay close together, or else the Princess would pick them off.
One of them, USS Johnston, was waiting in the wings, all but declaring that she was the one that wanted to sink the elusive Abyssal, to re-earn her stolen pride. If words came to blows, the Taffy would likely be all too able to put actions to her declaration. As for the other Shipgirl to have experience in the situation…
USS Helena awkwardly wrung her hands in the shadow of a tree, posture slumped and head held low. Of all of the ships on hand, this unfortunate light cruiser had been 'nominated' to be the one to open communications with the Abyssal Princess directly. While many of the fleet had written the idea off as insanity, Helena had insisted: she could get through to this particular Princess, and if she never tried, she'd never be able to forgive herself.
North Carolina snorted, rolling her eyes. An idealistic view for such a bizarre situation… But who was she to judge? She was even fresher than the light cruiser was, after all. For their hubris of proposing a functional plan for dealing with the Princess, the St. Louis-Class light cruiser had been made the leader of the current task group, piling yet even more weight upon their shoulders. Fletcher had been the choice they would've gone with otherwise, but strangely the destroyer had been entirely fine with giving up the leading role.
The other light cruiser, USS Trenton, had none of that particular kind of baggage, merely being content to keep watch, eyes trained to the south. In comparison, Helena looked like someone with the weight of far too much authority resting upon her shoulders.
"D-do you think we'll be able to pull this off?" whispered Helena to Fletcher. Their fear and uncertainty were more clear as crystal, and the destroyer was biting their lip, trying to come up with a response.
North Carolina decided to speak up. "They're definitely not acting like any of the other Abyssals. From what I've heard from Washington, the average one of those monochrome monsters aren't ones for thinking all that clearly. Running into one that's willing to talk to you is already miles ahead of the others… So who knows?"
Helena drooped slightly. What, was she expecting more? "Oh…"
"Assuming that this is actually her main base, and not just a staging ground." The Omaha-class cut in, turning back to the group with a frown. "Are you sure that this Princess is even here? That Rio girl seemed a bit… messed in the head. We could be chasing ghosts for all we know—or being led right into an ambush."
The group hummed, considering the option. On one hand, it was definitely possible… but if it were true, that would mean that the Navy had overlooked not one, but two Abyssal bases.
Needless to say, the idea definitely turned the stomach to consider.
"Hello!" chimed in a friendly, unidentified voice over the radio. "Who are you looking for? I've just about finished up on my journey: after I'm done, I could help you look if you'd like?"
Immediately, all communications were switched to another secure channel.
The group met gazes as the silence reigned for several moments.
"Who was that?!?" whisper-shouted Trenton, nervously scanning the water for any intrusion. "We made sure that there were no other Shipgirls in the area—and that definitely didn't sound like an Abyssal."
Fletcher nodded slowly. "Johnston was insistent: don't trust any unknown voices you hear, even if they're friendly. The Princess apparently tried to talk to her first before she attacked her. We need to be really, really careful. What should we do?"
Helena merely gulped, as the collected Ships turned slowly towards her. "W-what?"
"What do you suggest we do, Helena?" gently prompted North Carolina, doing her very best to avoid losing her own composure.
As the scout cruiser had put it, there was no hostility in the stranger's voice, no inherent wrongness… But the message was clear. Whoever this ship was, they had happily sailed around an Abyssal's territory, seemingly entirely without fear. It was possible that they were just stupid, but it was far, far more likely that they considered this area their own home instead.
Breathing in slowly, Helena seemingly ran down some possibilities in her head, before finally speaking up. "Whoever they are, they definitely seem to know the area. We should… make contact, and see if they know anything about the Abyssals. They offered to help us find who we're looking for… at the very least, they can point us in the right direction."
There were nods all around, although not all of them were as confident as the rest. Helena merely grimaced, before turning towards North Carolina. "Can you be the one to open communications? The Princess knows my voice—if I speak up, then they might know something's up and run. I'd ask Fletcher…"
Fletcher smiled, rolling her eyes. "She heard me talk, too. It's best if it's someone new."
More like the light cruiser was just too nervous to take the first step, and the destroyer was just playing along. The battleship cracked a tiny smile, but still did as bidden. With the flip of a channel, she broadcasted out, simply and clearly.
".. Hello? Please identify yourself." stated the battleship, throwing her voice out into the void, knowing full well that dark creatures lurked nearby.
There was a pause, during which the ships kept their eyes peeled, waiting for a strike, a feint, or any sort of misdirection—
Instead, the voice replied again, genuine warmth all to clear to hear.
"My name's 01! I'm on my maiden voyage around our territory! Are you also Ships?"
Silence, again.
"'Their' territory." stated Fletcher, immediately switching back to secure. "No doubt about it: that's an Abyssal."
Archerfish frowned, but nodded all the same. "She doesn't sound like an Abyssal though. She sounds… really, really friendly, actually? Most Abyssals have some sort of weird thing with their voice—gives you a gross feeling that drives you nuts… but this one doesn't?"
Sadly, NorCar couldn't affirm or deny that. "I wouldn't know… But it sounds like they're alone. If we wanted to, we could… capture her?"
The group exchanged glances once again. On one hand, they'd have the perfect prisoner for negotiation—assuming the Princess actually cared about her minions. On the other hand, said minion was on their Maiden Voyage.
No words needed to be said as the group unanimously shook their heads. A Maiden Voyage was a ship's first experience with the wider world. Abyssal or not, sinking someone on one was a taboo none of them were willing to commit. If the unidentified ship was lying, of course, there'd be hell to pay… but for now, they'd give them the benefit of the doubt.
Still, what sort of name was Zero One? Perhaps the Abyssal wasn't as benevolent as they seemed, if they were unwilling to name their vessels.
"Hello. I am USS North Carolina. Yes, we are Shipgirls. What is your current location?"
A bit too on the nose for the battleship's taste, but quite frankly, no one here had any idea what the heck was going on. Already, a plane had been sent north by their Essex to pass the information on—And a serious part of NorCar hoped that this 'Abyssal' was telling the truth.
"Do you think we can convince them to approach us?" spoke up Helena, once more on the secure line.
"Uh…" spoke up the Maybe-Abyssal, their voice growing a slight amount of hesitation. "My captain is saying I shouldn't tell you, since I don't know you. Um, are you here to cause trouble?"
Helena sighed, before finally deciding to step in directly. Either way, the Princess would find out she was here. "Hello, 01. My name is USS—"
"Oh!" interrupted the Abyssal, their tone immediately snapping to one of recognition and joy. "Miss Stranger!"
Once again, Helena's expression was one of bewilderment. "Uh… Do I know you?"
"Yep!" The unidentified vessel's smile was almost as audible as their own words. "It's okay, mister Captain: I can trust Miss Stranger! Mom let her go without hurting her and everything!"
Fletcher rolled her eyes, elbowing Helena. "Dunno, Helena, do you think you can convince her to approach us?
"Shush!" whispered Helena, before clearing her throat. "We're located near Bonds Cay. Are you aware of where that is?"
"Oh! Definitely! I was there only yesterday, actually!" smiled the Abyssal, apparently needing no further convincing. "I'm approaching now, my estimated time for arrival is five minutes. Seriously, mister Captain, relax."
"Should we be concerned that she's having an argument with her captain… on open comms, no less?" questioned Archerfish. "My fairies tend to just… go along with whatever I'm doing."
Fletcher only sighed, and shook her head. "Really, is this any weirder than anything else with this Abyssal Fleet? What's one more weirdness on top of it all?"
North Carolina couldn't help but agree. Still, she wondered just what their new contact was, behind the voice. They sounded young… But that might very well just be because they were freshly constructed.
The answer arrived without any real fanfare, as a monochrome Shipgirl sailed into view, her hair whipping behind her as she held a hand up over her eyes, scanning the distance. Archerfish had long since dove back in the water, just in case: the last thing they wanted was for the potential enemy to be made aware of their submarine's presence.
Fletcher was the first to speak up. "That's… not an Abyssal. There's not enough teeth. None of the other freaky stuff either… Heck, her Rigging is a rigging, not some sort of terrifying monster!"
Indeed, as the pale-colored Shipgirl approached, their details became more and more obvious. There were no obvious traces of the standard Abyssal monstrousness NorCar had seen in the dossiers, with only their desaturated color palette being a signifier of their origin. Instead, they seemed directly patterned after…
"Hey, she looks a bit like Helena!" spoke up Fletcher, gesturing towards several sections of the approaching ship's hull.
"N-no they d—" began Helena… before she paused, glancing down at the ocean below to make sure. The fact she didn't continue her line of thought spoke volumes.
North Carolina, meanwhile, furrowed her brow as she looked closer. No, it wasn't a perfect copy, not at all. If anything, they looked like a mixture between a St. Louis and…
"... She looks a bit like the hostage." she spoke aloud, unable to keep the words within her own lips.
The group of shipgirls fell to silence, trying to process those words. Thankfully, it seemed 01 was more than talkative enough to overtake the silence.
"Hello!" waved the light cruiser hybrid, coming to a stop only a few hundred yards from the docked fleet. "I'd have said hi my first time around, but I must've just missed you! Do you want to be friends?"
Their smile was genuine and practically radiant… and the battleship was beginning to wonder how a Princess had somehow managed to weaponize cuteness. Already, their Essex had been drawn away from their videos, yet the gaze she had upon the girl was nearly the same.
Helena sighed, and after confirming her intention with the rest of the task group, sailed out to meet the new visitor.
For several, tense seconds, the shipgirls had their fingers on the metaphorical trigger, fully expecting for things to go wrong.
Instead, as the two finally closed the distance, and properly introduced one another, the newly-constructed light cruiser breathed in—
And proceeded to nearly talk Helena's metaphorical ears off.
The battleship shook her head as she watched the Abyssal light cruiser Demon continue to babble happily to the assembled Shipgirls.
Wasn't that a surprise? Apparently, the Re had identified her as one, though the incredibly naive Abyssal did not know the meaning of the word, and her 'mother' had apparently disliked the moniker, too. 01 definitely didn't assign the classification much importance: she had let it slip out during introductions without even a single care.
Instead of the newly identified Abyssal squad leader choosing violence, she had taken to the group like a lost duckling, asking question after question about land, about the ocean, and about the greater world around them. It was frankly pretty overwhelming… which is why Helena and Trenton had taken turns swapping out between serving as educators and quietly freaking out with the rest of the fleet.
Either this 01 was a master manipulator, the likes of which the world hasn't ever seen… Or they were significantly different from the other Abyssals which haunted the oceans. Again and again, the battleship had found herself nearly forgetting the young ship's origin, only to be reminded of such by 01 themselves whenever they brought up just how alien their habits were.
At some point during the conversation, the Abyssal's guns had begun to move, seemingly on their own—thankfully though, the incident was resolved quickly without bloodshed. Upon being made aware of the rotating weaponry, the Abyssal Demon had frowned, before apologizing and chastising her crew out loud for pointing guns at 'friends'. She then declared that she had sealed off access to her gunnery positions and locked the ammunition stockpiles until her Imps could 'behave'.
That she was even able to do that was another mystery left unsolved, but at the very least it was reassuring in its own, highly concerning way. It had taken some time to calm everyone down, but the amalgam light cruiser's guns hadn't moved an inch after all of that. In the end, everyone had just chosen to ignore that little misstep, and all of the unhappy little implications that came along with it.
From what the other two light cruisers had been able to (very easily) glean from 01, the Abyssal fleet was tightly knit and fiercely protective of one another, though the fairies (Imps. They were Imps, apparently), were heavily insistent on her not stating the exact force numbers of the fleet.
Already, it was pretty obvious that the Demon saw Helena as a friend and role model—though exactly how she knew the Shipgirl cruiser was still up in the air. Helena had been insistent in return: she had only ever interacted with the Princess, and even that was in limited capacity.
Another mystery, one that seemingly refused to be answered. When they had asked 01 about it directly, the Abyssal had only stated that Helena had seen her around before, and that she had actually been around for the entirety of her interrogation… Yet could provide no better explanation as to how, saying that her memories back then were a little bit hazy.
Either way, it seemed that the little Abyssal had finally learned their fill on the state of the wider world, and was currently in the process of learning how to properly use an anchor from Fletcher.
Helena sighed, as she turned back to North Carolina. "Do you think we could ask her to take her to her Princess?"
"You definitely could." shrugged the battleship. "She seems to love you. It's almost a bit unnerving—she almost seems to look at you like a big sister."
"I'm not sure about the sister part. She seems to just love everyone." Helena couldn't help it—she let out a restrained, nervous chuckle, at the sheer absurdity of it all. "She's nearly as excitable as a destroyer at an ice cream parlor… Never thought I'd see that in an Abyssal."
North Carolina sighed. "With luck, she'll be able to help us get the Princess on our side. I'd actually feel bad if we hurt the little cruiser… What is the world coming to when these supposedly 'all evil' Abyssals are able to pull off emotional manipulation?"
Helena shook her head in good nature. "Trust me, I don't think even our elusive Anomaly Princess is capable of planning that far ahead. Our Guest seems way too genuine to be a ploy. I get the feeling the only reason she's not asking to permanently join us is because she honestly seems to care about her fleet. I'll… ask her to start taking us to her Princess. It seems like a safer option than the rest. I doubt their fortifications will shoot at us if we're traveling with her."
As Helena sailed over to sell the idea to their guest, North Carolina let out a slow breath.
Really, after a display such as that, she desired a peaceful outcome out of this all more than ever. Because really, if things turned to war here… it wouldn't just be them that suffered.
As she watched the Abyssal light cruiser be walked through how to properly judge water depth by the fleet's carrier, the battleship let out a pained sigh.
Maybe, as a fresh summon, she hadn't yet had time to become jaded. But perhaps, in the midst of this ongoing war… there really would be a chance for a small, fragile peace.
She just hoped that she wasn't wrong. For everyone's sake, not just their own.
… That said, it would be nice if their Guest had a real name.
Chapter 36
Re-074 did her best to hold in her lunch as she tried to focus on anything except what her insane Hime was currently up to. She definitely didn't need to see the rending of metal, the bashing of plates, or the audible whoosh of metal being welded into place by arc welders.
Alas, like with an incoming plane crash of one of her pilots, the aviation battleship simply couldn't look away for long. As it was, she was facing away, because like it or not, her eyes kept rolling towards the disturbing and constant noises occurring not too far away. Her Imps had requested to no longer patrol that sector of her hull and she had been all too willing to grant them a break.
Really, it was only due to her indomitable will and unwillingness to flee in the face of true terror that she remained in place, sitting upon the sandy beach, eyes focused very much to the north.
Joining the constant sounds of steel being shaped, torn, shredded and melted, the horrifying sound of steam escaping from a boiler caused the Re's head to snap over her shoulder, towards the horrific scene she knew awaited her.
"Ulf—!" retched the Re, immediately raising her hands to her mouth. While an Abyssal wasn't capable of throwing up in the strictest sense of the term, dry heaving was more than possible, assuming her boilers didn't just backfire and cause damage. At least the patient wasn't screaming this time, or begging for another chance, or mercy, or—
Her Hime was clutching an actively dripping boiler in one hand, a satisfied smile upon their face. Their entire front section was stained with oil, grease and metal shavings, coating them in gristly viscera. Their left arm was still deep within poor "Barracuda 05's" chassis, disappearing entirely within the open and oozing tear in their back. One of their four rigging tendrils had wormed its way into another rend in the hull closer to the bridge, and was faintly pulsing.
And despite it all, their tone was light and relaxed as they called out. "Did you need something? I'm kind of busy at the moment, you'll need to get it yourself."
At least the destroyer wasn't feeling a thing. The Hime had clearly stated that she had deactivated the vessel's nerves, as well as unhooked their non-essential systems.
She'd of course been given extra information without prompting. "Oh, well if I didn't, they'd be in excruciating pain. I wouldn't want that, and I doubt you would either. I plan on pulling out her boilers, after all."
The Re had assumed it was a joke. A really, really sickening and depraved one, since the only thing she had been told was that the destroyer's gun hinge was the problem item to be fixed. Unfortunately, it seemed the Hime had not been joking at all. If anything, she had been understating her intentions.
Staring down at the empty and lifeless eyes of her destroyer escort, 074 shivered—she understood the basics of what was going on here, but even a freshly summoned vessel would be able to puzzle out that things like this were supposed to happen in a shipyard, by a trained repair vessel… Most certainly not by a deranged submarine, and especially not on a bland and flat sheet of metal under a damned tree!
Thankfully, the battleship's prayers for mercy and distraction were answered when her radio crackled to life.
Re-074 sighed (in relief) as she recognised the entirely unencrypted message she received. Her Imps barely received the expected authentication handshake before the youngest (?) member of their fleet's voice blared through the radio.
"Mom! Auntie! I'm back!" cheered the over-excited cruiser not-demon, entirely unaware of the horrors that awaited the site of her return. "I'll be in sight soon, estimated time… uh… ten minutes?"
Sighing in growing contentment, the battleship couldn't help but smile. "Excellent. I'm glad to have something to look at that isn't our insane Hime and her latest project. We're on the northern beach. Come here and we'll get you resupplied. Maybe you can even tell me what you've been up to—you're a bit late, after all."
Glad to have something else to focus on, the battleship watched the water, relieved to hear that her latest fleetmate had returned safe and sound. Her smile grew even wider, when the insulted squawk of the cruiser politely reminded her that her 'mother' was not 'insane', after a moment or two of processing her words. 01 was definitely wrong regarding the Hime's sanity, but the poor cruiser would have plenty of time to see the truth in the future.
The Veteran Re's good mood held strong… at least until the escorted light cruiser was finally spotted by one of her Imps.
More specifically, she was being escorted by what appeared to be a task group, all but encircling 01… the members of which were entirely Traitor ships. Immediately, the experienced Abyssal noted the battleship, the extra air screen, and even the big pile of destroyers… it seemed as if the approaching micro-fleet had intended to counter her kind specifically. They of course could try… but if anything, if her heavily biased estimates were right, she'd probably win.
It was only 01's presence within the midst of the enemy fleet that prevented her from immediately opening fire and making the perceived weakness even more pronounced. Damn her newly developed sympathy, already leading astray towards making stupid decisions!
Instead, the Re kept on smiling, inhaled sharply… and shouted to her maniac Hime, never turning her eyes from the enemy.
"Look alive, Hime! We have Traitor ships inbound! ETA… Uh, five minutes!"
With a grunt of confusion, and the crash of metal plates being dropped, the submarine stumbled out of her trance-like state with all the grace of a seagull slamming against a warship's bridge. "What?!?" they screamed, finally showing a bit of emotion.
"... She totally gets this 'getting into bizarre problems' thing from you." stated the Re, grumbling, but not getting up. "Once we get your wayward cruiser back, we will be having words."
With that, the aviation battleship issued orders to load her cannons—and to start hauling extra ammo out of storage, because she had a feeling she'd be needing it soon. If it came down to it, she would be more than willing to send these intruders and kidnappers to the seafloor.
What? Here? Why? Why now?!?
The Anomaly Princess hissed as she rushed to stabilize her patient. She was still hours away from finishing the operation, but of course, something had arrived to put her current project at risk. Of course someone would show up, right when she had her patient's metaphorical chest cavity cracked wide open!
She had already replaced Barracuda's exterior gun mount, re-sculpted some of the strangely shaped portions of their hull (her original design had left much to be desired in the aquadynamics area), and had even mounted a pair of torpedo launchers, just to bulk up their firepower.
Unfortunately, with her… last mishap, with 01's power supply, she needed to install the new boilers into the destroyer last, so she could properly troubleshoot them. It had made perfect sense at the time…
Awkwardly, she fastened the fuel and water lines loosely to the Barracuda's new boiler, knowing full well that there'd be no time to ensure proper connections, let alone safety-test the new and greatly-improved system. She'd need to resolve… all of this, and then double check everything afterwards. If this distraction led to permanent damage, her fury would be severe.
Applying some temporary sealant to keep the filth out of the wound, the Princess turned away from the destroyer, quietly fuming. She'd need to leave a tendril embedded in the destroyer for now: she was keeping the Barracuda's systems alive by running an extension cord from her own power supply. Without a boiler of their own, it seemed that her 'temporary' system would remain in place. In the future, she'd need to build an external power source to run into the vessels she was working on.
While 05's mind probably could survive a few hours without power, the Princess wasn't certain… and that lack of certainty was more than enough to make the decision for her. The last thing she wanted was for her creation to die on the metaphorical operation table due to something she hadn't even bothered to consider.
Her tendrils weren't that long, all in all… but with a bit of effort, she was able to extend them to a few meters at least. Having done as much as she could, the submarine let out a frustrated sigh, then turned towards her Re.
"Explain." she stated, picking up the chunk of obsolete scrap metal she had removed from the destroyer only a few minutes ago. "What is happening, why is it happening… and what do you mean by Traitors?"
Her impromptu stress ball groaned slightly as her fingers dug into it. She wanted this over and done with, so that she could get back to fixing her design errors! Curse her lack of forethought in not building more above-land structures!
The battleship took to staring at the chunk of metal within her grasp for a moment, but then got a hold of herself and, in lieu of words, pointed northwards.
Slowly, the submarine's gaze traced the outstretched finger… coming to a stop at the approaching fleet.
It wasn't a large fleet by any means—the one her Prisoner had fielded not too long ago far outweighed it in numbers and mass, but in truth that probably meant little. Considering that the last time she had seen Abyssal and Human-Aligned fleets clash, the colorful Ships had lost only a few, while the Abyssal remains had littered the seafloor in a grim forest of death. The numbers of these intruders were lesser, but their quality was likely far, far higher.
Her false, implanted instincts screamed at her to set out to attack, to kill them all—
It was enough to force her to take a single step forward, the metal in her grip screeching as it was bent ever so slightly out of shape.
Her rigging let out an awkward noise as she reached the maximum range of her impromptu tether. Behind her, the scrape of 05 being dragged across the metal was clearly audible… She wasn't- no, she couldn't allow herself to go anywhere. Shaking her head slowly, she stepped backwards, her pout clear for the world to see. She couldn't risk fight or flight at the current moment. Not while she was quite literally tethered to her deactivated destroyer.
With no other choice coming to mind, she decided to make a snap, impulsive decision. "Hold your fire. Let them approach… let's see what these fools want."
Still, her nerves began to rise as the unfamiliar ships approached their island… Oh, how she hoped that they were not here to cause trouble.
She re-activated her radio, spinning through the frequencies until she came across one that felt right.
With bated breath, the submarine could only stare at the colorful ships, her posture rigid and uncomfortable.
"Hi Mom!" chirped 01, waving happily at the two Abyssals sitting upon the land, the cruiser's hand barely visible in the distance. "These are my new friends! They said they wanted to talk to you, is that alright? It's okay, I trust them!"
Unfortunately, it seemed the Princess hadn't properly muted her microphone, because her pained, frustrated groan of defeat was more than obviously heard by the strangers. The colorful Shipgirls near-unanimously widened their eyes in shock, staring at her with wide eyes, eliciting a nearly irresistible roll of the eyes in annoyance.
Biting back a curse, the Princess just went with it, again squeezing her stress-ball to keep herself calm. "... Fine. Bring them ashore. Tell them that if they fire any of their weapons, or take any hostile action for that matter, I shall punish them myself. I'm not quite sure what I'll do, but I'm sure I'll think of something."
She knew that they could hear her. It just hurt less to be indirect, to not acknowledge their existence. With that, the submarine disconnected her radio, turning back towards her Re.
"... We should get 01 out of the group and sink them all." was the red eyed battleship's 'recommendation', delivered in an even, focused tone.
Although it was a tempting offer, the Princess could only shake her head. "They know where we are now. There's no way that there aren't more of them waiting in the wings, even if we do sink these ones—I could make it out, but I'd be making it out alone."
The Re blinked at the admission. "Wait. Seriously? You're staying with us rather than just leaving us to rot?"
"If I did that, I'd be abandoning not only you, but 01 and 05 as well. Besides, I'd need time to repair or sabotage 05 in the worst case scenario—I refuse to allow my designs to be captured so easily by the enemy." the Anomaly stated, pointing a thumb at her deactivated destroyer. "... So with that in mind, I suppose we're all in this together."
Intruders or not… well, they were guests, even unwelcome, unannounced ones. The Princess grumbled again, before setting down her stress ball and whistling for a Minnow's attention. She wasn't going to impress with her meager setup, so she'd need to make up for it with a show of what they did have, instead.
"Bring me some of the pre-cut rations from my stockpiles." She ordered the Abyssal fish, which only stared mindlessly back at their master. "We don't have anything else to give them."
With a splash, the drone obeyed. Her battleship only shot their Princess a look of incredulity. "You're joking, right? Why are we feeding them? They're intruding on our territory, for the Depth's sake!"
"I wish I was." sighed the Anomaly, sending an unoccupied tendril out to grab a few coconuts from the pile. "If we're to be taken seriously at all, and not as just a pathetic poorhouse… the least we can do is provide a bit of hospitality."
She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to show just how undeveloped they were at the current moment. At least this little bit of theatre would let them appear as if they were prepared for visitors. Feed the visitors, but be prepared for treachery: she wasn't quite sure where those particular values came from, but they made enough sense to her to humor—at least this once.
Besides, although she'd never admit it, it was either this or a potential sinking at the hands of a superior and more numerous force. If playing nice meant living for just a bit longer, she'd comply… for now, at least.
She'd need to come up with a better strategy for next time, to better leverage her fleet's strengths. It was truly a shame that they hadn't been detected sooner though… If they had had more time to plan, perhaps she could've done something with that time?
For now, she'd make do with plain rations. It was the sort of material that she fed directly to her Minnows—surely, she could come up with something more fitting for guests in the future.
Perhaps she could experiment with adding foods together? Cooking was like chemistry, right?
Next time, she'd try to come up with something more interesting.
If there even was a 'next time' waiting for her in the future.
Alas, like with an incoming plane crash of one of her pilots, the aviation battleship simply couldn't look away for long. As it was, she was facing away, because like it or not, her eyes kept rolling towards the disturbing and constant noises occurring not too far away. Her Imps had requested to no longer patrol that sector of her hull and she had been all too willing to grant them a break.
Really, it was only due to her indomitable will and unwillingness to flee in the face of true terror that she remained in place, sitting upon the sandy beach, eyes focused very much to the north.
Joining the constant sounds of steel being shaped, torn, shredded and melted, the horrifying sound of steam escaping from a boiler caused the Re's head to snap over her shoulder, towards the horrific scene she knew awaited her.
"Ulf—!" retched the Re, immediately raising her hands to her mouth. While an Abyssal wasn't capable of throwing up in the strictest sense of the term, dry heaving was more than possible, assuming her boilers didn't just backfire and cause damage. At least the patient wasn't screaming this time, or begging for another chance, or mercy, or—
Her Hime was clutching an actively dripping boiler in one hand, a satisfied smile upon their face. Their entire front section was stained with oil, grease and metal shavings, coating them in gristly viscera. Their left arm was still deep within poor "Barracuda 05's" chassis, disappearing entirely within the open and oozing tear in their back. One of their four rigging tendrils had wormed its way into another rend in the hull closer to the bridge, and was faintly pulsing.
And despite it all, their tone was light and relaxed as they called out. "Did you need something? I'm kind of busy at the moment, you'll need to get it yourself."
At least the destroyer wasn't feeling a thing. The Hime had clearly stated that she had deactivated the vessel's nerves, as well as unhooked their non-essential systems.
She'd of course been given extra information without prompting. "Oh, well if I didn't, they'd be in excruciating pain. I wouldn't want that, and I doubt you would either. I plan on pulling out her boilers, after all."
The Re had assumed it was a joke. A really, really sickening and depraved one, since the only thing she had been told was that the destroyer's gun hinge was the problem item to be fixed. Unfortunately, it seemed the Hime had not been joking at all. If anything, she had been understating her intentions.
Staring down at the empty and lifeless eyes of her destroyer escort, 074 shivered—she understood the basics of what was going on here, but even a freshly summoned vessel would be able to puzzle out that things like this were supposed to happen in a shipyard, by a trained repair vessel… Most certainly not by a deranged submarine, and especially not on a bland and flat sheet of metal under a damned tree!
Thankfully, the battleship's prayers for mercy and distraction were answered when her radio crackled to life.
Re-074 sighed (in relief) as she recognised the entirely unencrypted message she received. Her Imps barely received the expected authentication handshake before the youngest (?) member of their fleet's voice blared through the radio.
"Mom! Auntie! I'm back!" cheered the over-excited cruiser not-demon, entirely unaware of the horrors that awaited the site of her return. "I'll be in sight soon, estimated time… uh… ten minutes?"
Sighing in growing contentment, the battleship couldn't help but smile. "Excellent. I'm glad to have something to look at that isn't our insane Hime and her latest project. We're on the northern beach. Come here and we'll get you resupplied. Maybe you can even tell me what you've been up to—you're a bit late, after all."
Glad to have something else to focus on, the battleship watched the water, relieved to hear that her latest fleetmate had returned safe and sound. Her smile grew even wider, when the insulted squawk of the cruiser politely reminded her that her 'mother' was not 'insane', after a moment or two of processing her words. 01 was definitely wrong regarding the Hime's sanity, but the poor cruiser would have plenty of time to see the truth in the future.
The Veteran Re's good mood held strong… at least until the escorted light cruiser was finally spotted by one of her Imps.
More specifically, she was being escorted by what appeared to be a task group, all but encircling 01… the members of which were entirely Traitor ships. Immediately, the experienced Abyssal noted the battleship, the extra air screen, and even the big pile of destroyers… it seemed as if the approaching micro-fleet had intended to counter her kind specifically. They of course could try… but if anything, if her heavily biased estimates were right, she'd probably win.
It was only 01's presence within the midst of the enemy fleet that prevented her from immediately opening fire and making the perceived weakness even more pronounced. Damn her newly developed sympathy, already leading astray towards making stupid decisions!
Instead, the Re kept on smiling, inhaled sharply… and shouted to her maniac Hime, never turning her eyes from the enemy.
"Look alive, Hime! We have Traitor ships inbound! ETA… Uh, five minutes!"
With a grunt of confusion, and the crash of metal plates being dropped, the submarine stumbled out of her trance-like state with all the grace of a seagull slamming against a warship's bridge. "What?!?" they screamed, finally showing a bit of emotion.
"... She totally gets this 'getting into bizarre problems' thing from you." stated the Re, grumbling, but not getting up. "Once we get your wayward cruiser back, we will be having words."
With that, the aviation battleship issued orders to load her cannons—and to start hauling extra ammo out of storage, because she had a feeling she'd be needing it soon. If it came down to it, she would be more than willing to send these intruders and kidnappers to the seafloor.
What? Here? Why? Why now?!?
The Anomaly Princess hissed as she rushed to stabilize her patient. She was still hours away from finishing the operation, but of course, something had arrived to put her current project at risk. Of course someone would show up, right when she had her patient's metaphorical chest cavity cracked wide open!
She had already replaced Barracuda's exterior gun mount, re-sculpted some of the strangely shaped portions of their hull (her original design had left much to be desired in the aquadynamics area), and had even mounted a pair of torpedo launchers, just to bulk up their firepower.
Unfortunately, with her… last mishap, with 01's power supply, she needed to install the new boilers into the destroyer last, so she could properly troubleshoot them. It had made perfect sense at the time…
Awkwardly, she fastened the fuel and water lines loosely to the Barracuda's new boiler, knowing full well that there'd be no time to ensure proper connections, let alone safety-test the new and greatly-improved system. She'd need to resolve… all of this, and then double check everything afterwards. If this distraction led to permanent damage, her fury would be severe.
Applying some temporary sealant to keep the filth out of the wound, the Princess turned away from the destroyer, quietly fuming. She'd need to leave a tendril embedded in the destroyer for now: she was keeping the Barracuda's systems alive by running an extension cord from her own power supply. Without a boiler of their own, it seemed that her 'temporary' system would remain in place. In the future, she'd need to build an external power source to run into the vessels she was working on.
While 05's mind probably could survive a few hours without power, the Princess wasn't certain… and that lack of certainty was more than enough to make the decision for her. The last thing she wanted was for her creation to die on the metaphorical operation table due to something she hadn't even bothered to consider.
Her tendrils weren't that long, all in all… but with a bit of effort, she was able to extend them to a few meters at least. Having done as much as she could, the submarine let out a frustrated sigh, then turned towards her Re.
"Explain." she stated, picking up the chunk of obsolete scrap metal she had removed from the destroyer only a few minutes ago. "What is happening, why is it happening… and what do you mean by Traitors?"
Her impromptu stress ball groaned slightly as her fingers dug into it. She wanted this over and done with, so that she could get back to fixing her design errors! Curse her lack of forethought in not building more above-land structures!
The battleship took to staring at the chunk of metal within her grasp for a moment, but then got a hold of herself and, in lieu of words, pointed northwards.
Slowly, the submarine's gaze traced the outstretched finger… coming to a stop at the approaching fleet.
It wasn't a large fleet by any means—the one her Prisoner had fielded not too long ago far outweighed it in numbers and mass, but in truth that probably meant little. Considering that the last time she had seen Abyssal and Human-Aligned fleets clash, the colorful Ships had lost only a few, while the Abyssal remains had littered the seafloor in a grim forest of death. The numbers of these intruders were lesser, but their quality was likely far, far higher.
Her false, implanted instincts screamed at her to set out to attack, to kill them all—
It was enough to force her to take a single step forward, the metal in her grip screeching as it was bent ever so slightly out of shape.
Her rigging let out an awkward noise as she reached the maximum range of her impromptu tether. Behind her, the scrape of 05 being dragged across the metal was clearly audible… She wasn't- no, she couldn't allow herself to go anywhere. Shaking her head slowly, she stepped backwards, her pout clear for the world to see. She couldn't risk fight or flight at the current moment. Not while she was quite literally tethered to her deactivated destroyer.
With no other choice coming to mind, she decided to make a snap, impulsive decision. "Hold your fire. Let them approach… let's see what these fools want."
Still, her nerves began to rise as the unfamiliar ships approached their island… Oh, how she hoped that they were not here to cause trouble.
She re-activated her radio, spinning through the frequencies until she came across one that felt right.
With bated breath, the submarine could only stare at the colorful ships, her posture rigid and uncomfortable.
"Hi Mom!" chirped 01, waving happily at the two Abyssals sitting upon the land, the cruiser's hand barely visible in the distance. "These are my new friends! They said they wanted to talk to you, is that alright? It's okay, I trust them!"
Unfortunately, it seemed the Princess hadn't properly muted her microphone, because her pained, frustrated groan of defeat was more than obviously heard by the strangers. The colorful Shipgirls near-unanimously widened their eyes in shock, staring at her with wide eyes, eliciting a nearly irresistible roll of the eyes in annoyance.
Biting back a curse, the Princess just went with it, again squeezing her stress-ball to keep herself calm. "... Fine. Bring them ashore. Tell them that if they fire any of their weapons, or take any hostile action for that matter, I shall punish them myself. I'm not quite sure what I'll do, but I'm sure I'll think of something."
She knew that they could hear her. It just hurt less to be indirect, to not acknowledge their existence. With that, the submarine disconnected her radio, turning back towards her Re.
"... We should get 01 out of the group and sink them all." was the red eyed battleship's 'recommendation', delivered in an even, focused tone.
Although it was a tempting offer, the Princess could only shake her head. "They know where we are now. There's no way that there aren't more of them waiting in the wings, even if we do sink these ones—I could make it out, but I'd be making it out alone."
The Re blinked at the admission. "Wait. Seriously? You're staying with us rather than just leaving us to rot?"
"If I did that, I'd be abandoning not only you, but 01 and 05 as well. Besides, I'd need time to repair or sabotage 05 in the worst case scenario—I refuse to allow my designs to be captured so easily by the enemy." the Anomaly stated, pointing a thumb at her deactivated destroyer. "... So with that in mind, I suppose we're all in this together."
Intruders or not… well, they were guests, even unwelcome, unannounced ones. The Princess grumbled again, before setting down her stress ball and whistling for a Minnow's attention. She wasn't going to impress with her meager setup, so she'd need to make up for it with a show of what they did have, instead.
"Bring me some of the pre-cut rations from my stockpiles." She ordered the Abyssal fish, which only stared mindlessly back at their master. "We don't have anything else to give them."
With a splash, the drone obeyed. Her battleship only shot their Princess a look of incredulity. "You're joking, right? Why are we feeding them? They're intruding on our territory, for the Depth's sake!"
"I wish I was." sighed the Anomaly, sending an unoccupied tendril out to grab a few coconuts from the pile. "If we're to be taken seriously at all, and not as just a pathetic poorhouse… the least we can do is provide a bit of hospitality."
She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to show just how undeveloped they were at the current moment. At least this little bit of theatre would let them appear as if they were prepared for visitors. Feed the visitors, but be prepared for treachery: she wasn't quite sure where those particular values came from, but they made enough sense to her to humor—at least this once.
Besides, although she'd never admit it, it was either this or a potential sinking at the hands of a superior and more numerous force. If playing nice meant living for just a bit longer, she'd comply… for now, at least.
She'd need to come up with a better strategy for next time, to better leverage her fleet's strengths. It was truly a shame that they hadn't been detected sooner though… If they had had more time to plan, perhaps she could've done something with that time?
For now, she'd make do with plain rations. It was the sort of material that she fed directly to her Minnows—surely, she could come up with something more fitting for guests in the future.
Perhaps she could experiment with adding foods together? Cooking was like chemistry, right?
Next time, she'd try to come up with something more interesting.
If there even was a 'next time' waiting for her in the future.
- Location
- England
The main difference between cooking and chemistry is that cooking can be fatal when it goes horribly wrong, while chemistry can also be fatal when it goes horribly right.
Chapter 37
To be entirely honest, Fletcher still wasn't sure what to make of the over-friendly Abyssal mystery ship that was their new companion.
Though it wasn't immediately obvious at first glance, the nameship was by far the most senior of the group… and while she wasn't exactly playing leader at this current moment, she definitely had been around the block to pick up a few things here and there. Besides, not being the leader just gave her even more leeway: the bigger ships tended to overlook a destroyer when they were in the middle of a 'prank'.
For instance, only a few minutes ago she had asked the Abyssal a heavily loaded question about what she didn't like, expecting to hear some kind of screed in response. Most Abyssals had some kind of hangup, and more often than not it only took the tiniest bit of nudging to get them to scream it out at the top of their lungs.
Oftentimes, their beef was with humanity in general, but in other cases, it was more specialized stuff, like planes, or submarines. One time, she had even run into an Abyssal who had declared their unending hatred for dry land… Needless to say, she was expecting something to be driving 01, underneath their cheery surface.
What she got instead was several awkward moments from the Abyssal Demon as she retreated inwards, deep in thought… before eventually admitting that she had almost sunk once, and it (understandably) scared her immensely. The only 'dislike' that the monochrome vessel could come up with was that she had nearly died and didn't like the feeling.
That was not the behavior of a vengeful ghost ship, not at all.
Sure, she'd gotten a few weird looks from the other shipgirls, but the question had done its job. It was damned hard to make something like that up out of nowhere… and it definitely earned the destroyer some peace of mind regarding whether this supposed Abyssal was genuine.
Of course, she wasn't the only one asking 01 questions. Although a lot of it was pretty simple stuff, like her favorite color ("Dunno, I like them all!"), food ("Auntie found coconuts the other day, and they're pretty good with fish!"), or what she did for fun ("Mom reads out loud sometimes!"), it was pretty obvious that the inquiries were slowly building up to…
"So what kind of person is your Princess, anyway?" asked North Carolina, their voice unable to keep the obvious nervousness within it from bubbling to the surface.
That.
Immediately, the rest of the fleet fell to silence, fully interested in the answer. The Abyssal cruiser for her part merely hummed to herself.
"Oh! Ummm… Give me a sec…" smiled 01, though there was once again that sense of awkwardness to her tone—the same sort that tended to bleed in whenever the questions got a bit too probing.
Honestly, if the Abyssal just told them nothing, Fletcher could totally understand it. She'd be a bit annoyed, but Opsec was Op—
"Well, um, I've always seen Mom as a fixer of broken things." spoke up the cruiser, once more surprising everyone. "She gets really into what she's doing a lot—I need to get her to stop, sometimes, otherwise she'll forget to eat or take a break. My Auntie has to step in sometimes too—it's a lot of work keeping her out of trouble."
Great. An obsessive, impulsive Princess. Not exactly uncommon, but—
"She's constantly jumping into projects without really spending time to think about them. I promised I'd try to help her out more in the future, you know?" continued the Abyssal, humming to herself and making a sweeping gesture across the ocean before them. "The least I can do is help set up the mining stuff, right?"
Fletcher's eyes flicked to the side, spotting a grimace upon the face of one of her peers. She didn't blame them: what kind of 'projects' were they about to walk in on?
Part of her really wanted to ask about the whole bath water thing… but what was she, a lewdmarine? She could feel her face burning even trying to put the thoughts to words—there was no way she'd be able to say that out loud!
Of course, the whole 'bath water' thing wasn't the only reason she was here… and most certainly it wasn't the biggest of Fletcher's concerns approaching the Abyssal territory.
Nameship or not, Johnston was still her sister-ship. And well, when said sister ship spent several hours cursing up a storm about being sunk by a no-fair, cheating Princess, it was hard not to become a bit interested in it all.
She'd first been made aware of the history between the two vessels during the debriefing after the naval base breakin. Before that, Fletcher had only heard the basics through rumors and speculation… most concerning of course being the sporadic nightmares that her sister had begun to experience since her 'encounter' with the Princess.
She had intended to have a chat with her, catch up and everything over dinner—too bad the Abyssal had decided then to show up, throwing all of her plans overboard.
With all that in mind, she had volunteered for the job for many reasons, and had been sure to pool what little she knew, combined with what little Johnston knew. It really wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but…
Really, they couldn't quite figure out a good answer to the question of 'how' or 'why'---not one that fit every single requirement. They were pretty sure that whatever this Princess was, they were big enough to use more repair fluid than a Battleship… Yet also stealthy enough and lethal enough to get the jump on a Taffy. Never mind that the nearby naval fortifications hadn't heard gunfire…
—Now that she thought about it, was this Princess a Re? It could explain why the Elite Re listened to her…
The destroyer blinked… and shivered.
She heard stories about submersible Res… But they were just rumors, right? There was no way that they were entering the domain of a submersible Re Princess. It just didn't make logical sense, they'd sink, right?
Warily, she glanced back at the fleet's guide, who had somehow managed to change the topic away from their fleet of potential horrors, and instead towards how pretty the setting sun was.
Yeah, Fletcher didn't see it. If the Princess was a Re, there'd be no way that this little cruiser would be anywhere near this sane. No, the answer was probably something entirely different, something none of them had expected. A complete surprise that they were sailing blindly into.
Fletcher wasn't exactly a fan of surprises, not when they could get people hurt in the process. Pranks were completely different, of course—those were perfectly fine, and no one would ever be able to tell her otherwise!
Still, hopefully whatever was awaiting them wasn't too evil… The sooner they could get it all resolved, the sooner Johnston could take some time off to recover. Fletcher did care about her little sister after all, and when one Taffy was unhappy, all of them were.
At long last, the abandoned island of Nasseau finally appeared upon the horizon. Of all of the places for an Abyssal base to crop up, this was definitely one of them.
She hadn't been around when the island fell: but then again, barely any but the earliest Shipgirls were. What few refugees were able to flee from the island were not interested in returning any time soon—not when there simply wasn't enough transport available to make the rebuilding anything but a slow, agonizing slog.
She had no idea how many people had died on that island during those bloody days, but it must've measured in the thousands, though likely numbering far, far more.
"Can we stop for a moment? I want to radio in—let my mother know that we're approaching." ask-stated 01, holding up her hand as she went. Still reasonable, all in all.
She even spoke aloud the entire time—is she speaking up for their benefit, or does she honestly not know better? The complete lack of encryption certainly made it seem to be the latter…
Still, ten minutes seemed to be around right as far as an estimate went.
After that, they'd all have their answers. Still, it would just be another ten minutes of doing nothing…
Smirking, Fletcher accelerated ever so slightly, pulling forward and coming to an equal pace beside Helena. "So, Helena, what do you think about your new daughter?"
Were it not for the light cruiser's deployed rigging, she totally would've tripped over her own feet and ended up in the water. "W-what?!? T-that's not—She's not—I-I'm not—" sputtered the brown-haired St. Louis, whirling towards the destroyer, wild-eyed.
As the Shipgirl cruiser's face began to tinge red, the Abyssal in question looked over towards them in confusion… before returning back to their own conversation with North Carolina.
"Oh hey! Auntie's still waiting for me to come back? I could've sworn she'd have gone to do something else!" smiled 01, pointing at a section of the island's beach.
Nearly as one, the group traced the pointing finger… before there was a near instant screech of every single shipgirl cutting their propulsion at the same time.
01, while smiling, waving and sounding happier than ever… was pointed right at a Re.
A ffffrigging elite Re, judging by the glowing red eyes peering out into the horizon. It was probably the same one that had been trailed by Archerfish earlier… unless this particular fleet somehow had multiple elite Res…
Fletcher shivered, and doublechecked her supply of depth charges, just in case.
"That's… your Aunt?" sputtered Helena, quickly glancing between the innocent, if a bit naive cruiser… and the oversized chimeric killing machine awaiting them, sprawled out upon the sand like a ferocious wild beast.
"Yep!" smiled the friendly Abyssal, nodding excitedly all the way. "She's super nice! She tells me stories about the battles she fought in the past, and she carried me around a bunch when I couldn't walk!"
The doubt hanging in the air was thick enough that it could be cut with a knife.
Though it was mostly doubt regarding the first of the three statements. The second and third… Well, if there was any vessel that'd be able to convince a Re to tell them stories or carry them around when they were hurt, it'd be 01.
Already, Fletcher could hear whispering coming from the other destroyers… as well as spot the uncertain expressions upon the larger ships. Sure, they could probably handle an elite Re—they were damaged, after all—but it'd be messy, lossy, and who knows if there'd be Abyssal reinforcements lurking just outside of detection range…
It was then that the Re finally spotted them, rising from their spot upon the ground in a flash of motion.
Blazing red eyes glanced over each member of their fleet… even as they pointed towards them, and shouted something inaudible in the distance.
Even more horrifyingly, the Re's tail thrashed about, turning and twisting to face them, its jaws opening and closing rhythmically.
A tail—An air wing which had been confirmed destroyed, at least according to Archerfish's latest report, only a week ago. Instead, Fletcher's rangefinders could find nothing immediately wrong with the flight deck. Entirely gone was the massive denting and deformities that had been upon its surface.
This wasn't a damaged, haphazardly patched together Aviation Battleship.
This was a fully repaired one.
That… didn't make sense. The repair bath on the island was not refilling itself when Archerfish had checked, meaning that there was no way the Re could have fully healed themselves within it… Unless there was a second one? Did they somehow overlook a second base? The Re had gone missing at some point during her observation…
01 of course, saw none of this as problematic. "See? She's waving at us! Hi, Auntie!"
"Do… we retreat? We're so not prepared to take that on." spoke up Trenton, their message broadcasted upon the secure channel.
"... I don't think we'd be able to get out of range in time. They see us now, and while I don't know why they haven't done so yet—that tail can start spitting out planes at any moment." answered Fletcher, sighing. "Besides, they're still not shooting. I've encountered four Res so far, and they're nothing if not impulsive. Maybe this one is, like, a wolf or something—and won't shoot until we try to make a tactical retreat."
"Oh! And there's mom!" continued the Abyssal, pointing at another shape—
"That's her." stated both Fletcher and Helena at the same time.
Indeed, striding into view, clutching something, was the very same Abyssal Princess that had menaced Florida over the last while. Taller than even the Elite Re, they paused for a moment, before turning to face the fleet—
Their sickly green eyes blazed with malice as they glared at the fleet… at least until they seemingly got a hold of themselves, and took an emotional step backwards to merely being hostile and unwelcoming.
"Hi Mom!" chirped 01 over her radio, waving and happily ignoring the glare her 'mother' was shooting her companions. "These are my new friends! They said they wanted to talk to you, is that alright? It's okay, I trust them!"
Fletcher blinked… Seriously? The Abyssal trusted them already?
Forget the Admiralty wanting to know about this girl—If she didn't watch her words, Nagato might make a cross-world trip just to adopt the Abyssal herself.
There was an awkward pause, during which no one spoke… Before finally, their radios received a long, pained, and frustrated sigh in response.
It was almost funny, in a way… if it didn't bring to light potential worries of their little cruiser friend being punished by their Princess for messing up.
Finally, the Princess chose to respond, their voice emotionless yet with the same dangerous undertone that Fletcher had only ever heard movie monsters talk in. "... Fine. Bring them ashore. Tell them that if they fire any of their weapons, or take any hostile action for that matter, I shall punish them myself. I'm not quite sure what I'll do, but I'm sure I'll think of something."
Again, the girls exchanged glances… It was as close to an invitation as it could get—from an Abyssal, at least. The threats of violence were still there, but there were bits that weren't violence too? At the very least, the Princess appeared to be just as surprised to see them as they were.
Shakily, Helena nodded, before gesturing her orders to continue forwards. Land awaited, as did the Abyssals that they have come to speak with.
The Anomaly Princess was both everything Fletcher expected, and also nothing like what she expected. With her rigging fully manifested, it was more simple than ever to get a good look at her ship-self.
The destroyer nameship was totally right about her being utterly terrifying looking, being spattered with oil, fluids and gore… as well as actively holding onto (and occasionally squeezing) what appeared to be a severed boiler. A quadrant of their rigging trailed away several dozen feet, impaled into the hull of an Abyssal vessel of unidentified class and design. At her side, the elite Re stood, their head coming up to about the Princess's shoulders, and their many, many gun emplacements pointed at each of the Shipgirls present.
And then there was the Princess's hull itself, which appeared to have been partially exploded… and then welded over by an unnatural, disturbingly shiny material. The old and new sections were so heavily intertwined that it almost seemed as if the new material had melted into the older, damaged segments. The overall effect was one of patchwork, as if a large portion of her hull had been wholesale replaced… but now could be easily mistaken for always having been that way.
Essentially, it was all the textbook example of nightmare fuel for the average Shipgirl. Already, a few members of the destroyer division were whimpering, hiding behind North Carolina. The nameship had considered doing so herself… but she had to be a good example for the others, sadly.
On the other hand, there were the things about their supposed 'host' that she didn't expect.
For one, the Princess, her humanoid form contending with the average battleship when it came to sheer height… was, in fact, tiny. When it came to girl-halves, she was pretty obviously the second tallest girl here, with only North Carolina being taller… and while it was hard to judge at this distance, it seemed pretty darn close.
Then again, Fletcher was pretty sure even she outmassed the Princess. Sure, she'd probably narrow the gap when diving, but still! She had gone into this expecting something big… None of the other Taffies back home thought that she was Re-big, but they all thought she was at least the size of a Carrier…
However, it seemed that all of them had way overshot their estimates, since the Abyssal vessel before them appeared to be a midget submarine. A heavily mutilated and warped midget submarine, but still a very, very small vessel nevertheless. The disconnect between the sizes of the submarine's two forms was enough to give her a headache, made worse the longer she thought about it.
With all of that responsible stuff said… Why, exactly, was this tiny submarine so much taller than her? It wasn't fair! It totally wasn't fair.
Still, despite, (or maybe even because of) this oddity of size to displacement ratio, this tiny Princess was able to get a jump on a Taffy… and had managed to sink them without being identified. And that wasn't even taking into consideration the other chaos she had been up to—chaos which the Admirals back on base hadn't even managed to properly sort through yet. With that in mind, Fletcher awkwardly took a step forward… and elbowed a shell-shocked Helena. Standing around staring wasn't a good idea—not if they wanted to make a good impression here, and most certainly not when they were still within range of the Princess's pet Re, who even now stared at a few of them like a wild animal would stare at a chunk of meat.
Thankfully, the nominal leader of the task group seemed to get her head back on straight nearly-immediately, and cleared her throat. "U-um… Hello again, do you—"
"I remember you." stated the Anomaly Princess, arms crossed, head tilted and lips pursed. Their tone was still snipped and frustrated, but at least their horrific claws were pointed away from the group of Shipgirls. "Why are you here? I stated clearly: you were to stay out of my territory."
"B-but you didn't—" began Helena, before she seemingly caught herself, and threw her hands in front of her mouth.
The Re hissed, redoubling their glare at them all… but the Princess merely froze in place, her writhing rigging ceasing its movement.
What were they doing—
"Oh." stated the Princess, returning to animation a moment later, their posture loosening ever so slightly. "... Those were not my exact words. Fine, I will adjust my statement. I told you to not return with hostile intentions, yet you show up with a fleet behind you. How is this not hostility?"
"Say what?" The Re spoke up, turning ever so slightly towards her 'leader'. Quite smartly, the other destroyers rotated their positions, moving to stay outside of the tail's potential striking range. "My Hime… Do you know these traitors?"
The Princess shrugged, shooting the Re a glance, yet never looking away for long. "I know the light cruiser there, as I took her prisoner. I do not know the others."
The Re paused, blinked… and groaned, raising a hand up to their own face. "Seriously, my Hime? What is with you and cruisers?"
"... That is becoming a pattern now, isn't it? I'll attempt to mix things up in the future." stated the Anomaly, seemingly without care. Again, they squeezed the boiler within their grasp, eliciting the groan of failing metal as a portion of the component caved in. "I needed more information about the greater world, and grabbing her while she was off guard was the easiest way I could think of to get it."
The destroyers behind North Carolina only tightened their formation further, ensuring that none of them would be abducted. With the seemingly dead Abyssal trailing behind the submarine, it was hard not to make the potential connection.
Helena merely gulped. Right, hadn't she been grabbed right out of the middle of her formation? How on earth was that considered 'easy'?
"... Hime, please tell me that you didn't take them here." stated the aviation battleship in a dead-even tone, glancing between the taller, yet smaller Princess… and the fleet of Shipgirls before them.
Thankfully, it didn't come to blows. Instead, the Abyssals broke out into a spontaneous argument… Seemingly forgetting that they weren't alone on the island. They also didn't bother using their radios, just choosing to shout at one another instead.
"Do you think I'm stupid? I took her to a different island."
"And you didn't tell me?!"
"You were damaged, and I saw no need to aggravate you further over something so unimportant."
Gritting her teeth in frustration, the Re turned back towards the Shipgirl fleet with a pout, their tone dripping with false lightness. "Do you see what I need to put up with on a daily basis? Please tell me you're here for a fight, I really need acceptable targets to vent my frustration on!"
Said fleet didn't really have much to say in response, especially not when the monstrous tail simply clacked its teeth, mere inches away from Helena's forehead.
Out of the corner of her eye, the destroyer could spot 01 happily reaching forwards to pat the tail, thankfully pulling the living weapon's attention away from the rest of the Shipgirl fleet. Even better, the tail seemed to melt into the attention it was given, slumping against the light cruiser 'happily' with its tongue lolling out to the side.
"Even my damned tail wants to be a traitor today, huh?"
Fletcher held in a sigh. It wouldn't be the first dysfunctional Abyssal Fleet she had ever seen. However, it was the first Abyssal fleet she had encountered to be dysfunctional in this specific way.
The argument continued for several more moments… before finally, the Princess relented, and turned towards her cruiser. "... 01, why did you agree to bring these Shipgirls here? I understand that you trust… USS Helena, for some reason beyond my understanding. But a single ship amidst a fleet—"
The Abyssal Demon blinked and ceased petting the Re's tail, to which the appendage seemed to droop. "No, I recognised two ships!" she exclaimed, shaking her head as Fletcher's stomach slowly dropped. "Miss Archerfish was with them too, and she played with me a few days ago! She's out there in the water, see?"
With that, the cruiser pointed out into the water… directly at the location of the fleet's supervising submarine… who up until now, had been assumed to have completely avoided detection.
There was an awkward pause as nearly everyone's gaze snapped to the otherwise featureless section of water… Up until a flying coconut was launched at high speed, hurtling through the air and smashing against a previously-hidden submarine lurking just barely below the surface. Blinking away stars, Archerfish awkwardly and slowly rose from the depths, covered in coconut pulp and holding her hands up over her head.
Again, the Princess let out a slow, painful sigh, lowering her face into her hands. Meanwhile, the Re reached into her holds, pulling out a second coconut and gently tossing it up and down.
"Oh, speaking about that!" continued 01, happily waving at the submarine whose cover they had blown so easily. "You forgot to give her a snack too! Do you have any extra?"
"I could launch another coconut…" the Re offered with a flat voice—
Archerfish visibly flinched as something else made a bee-line at her head—thankfully, she managed to catch… A bundle of wiring that, tracing the arc backwards, must have been hurled at her by the cruiser abducting Princess herself.
"Fine." grumbled the still-difficult-to-make-sense-of Princess, pouting and shaking her head in defeat. The disgust and hatred in her voice had begun to wane, leaving them less menacing, but still quite monotone. "I'll… Give them a chance. But I have a demand, first."
The air was silent as the fleet turned back to the Princess—what were they about to demand? Did they want a hostage? Or some kind of insurance?
"... You are to all go over there." stated the submarine Princess, pointing further down the beach, past a bend in the trees. "You interrupted me while I was replacing my destroyer's core systems, and I value stabilizing them far more than humoring whatever inane mission you fools are on. As is, her boiler is currently not actually attached to anything—it's just rattling around in their chest cavity and I wish to resolve it before all of this jostling potentially causes any permanent damage."
Fletcher grimaced as her stomach turned… as did several others. Trenton instead held her hands up before her own boilers, wincing in sympathetic horror.
Maybe they would… be better off giving this insane Abyssal a bit of space.
"... 074, escort the… guests to the other side of the beach. I do not want them to watch me as I work." finished the Princess, waving dismissively and already turning away. "For now, they are dismissed, and I wish them out of my sight."
The Re blinked, glancing between her Princess and the visitors. "What? Why me?"
"Because I don't trust them to behave." shrugged the Anomaly, not turning back to the group. "I only need… I'd say about thirty minutes to finish this. I'd prefer forty-five, but I'm sure I can accomplish what little needs to be done in that time."
The aviation battleship continued to glance between Shipgirls and her leader… before she relented, and gestured for them to follow her. "Misbehave, and I'll kill you all myself. At the very least I won't need to watch my maniac Hime working, either…"
With that, there was a crack of a gun being fired—and a splash as the water beside Archerfish exploded.
"Get out of the water and follow, you stupid, ankle-biting, good-for-nothing pest." grumbled the Re, turning around to begin leading the fleet away. Their tail seemed to pick up the slack, being more than capable of leering at the fleet, even while the aviation battleship faced in the opposite direction.
Shakily, Archerfish picked herself up and stumbled ashore, more than a little rattled, and rubbing the bruise the coconut had left on her. Well, there went their reassurance and potential source of rescue if things went south…
Fletcher shot one final glance back at the Abyssal Princess, who had already begun to stalk towards their now-identified destroyer, pulling various tools out of her hull as she stepped forwards.
Whatever they were planning on doing, they were going to do out in the open, right along the shore.
Yeah, the girls back on base wouldn't believe a word of this.
Though it wasn't immediately obvious at first glance, the nameship was by far the most senior of the group… and while she wasn't exactly playing leader at this current moment, she definitely had been around the block to pick up a few things here and there. Besides, not being the leader just gave her even more leeway: the bigger ships tended to overlook a destroyer when they were in the middle of a 'prank'.
For instance, only a few minutes ago she had asked the Abyssal a heavily loaded question about what she didn't like, expecting to hear some kind of screed in response. Most Abyssals had some kind of hangup, and more often than not it only took the tiniest bit of nudging to get them to scream it out at the top of their lungs.
Oftentimes, their beef was with humanity in general, but in other cases, it was more specialized stuff, like planes, or submarines. One time, she had even run into an Abyssal who had declared their unending hatred for dry land… Needless to say, she was expecting something to be driving 01, underneath their cheery surface.
What she got instead was several awkward moments from the Abyssal Demon as she retreated inwards, deep in thought… before eventually admitting that she had almost sunk once, and it (understandably) scared her immensely. The only 'dislike' that the monochrome vessel could come up with was that she had nearly died and didn't like the feeling.
That was not the behavior of a vengeful ghost ship, not at all.
Sure, she'd gotten a few weird looks from the other shipgirls, but the question had done its job. It was damned hard to make something like that up out of nowhere… and it definitely earned the destroyer some peace of mind regarding whether this supposed Abyssal was genuine.
Of course, she wasn't the only one asking 01 questions. Although a lot of it was pretty simple stuff, like her favorite color ("Dunno, I like them all!"), food ("Auntie found coconuts the other day, and they're pretty good with fish!"), or what she did for fun ("Mom reads out loud sometimes!"), it was pretty obvious that the inquiries were slowly building up to…
"So what kind of person is your Princess, anyway?" asked North Carolina, their voice unable to keep the obvious nervousness within it from bubbling to the surface.
That.
Immediately, the rest of the fleet fell to silence, fully interested in the answer. The Abyssal cruiser for her part merely hummed to herself.
"Oh! Ummm… Give me a sec…" smiled 01, though there was once again that sense of awkwardness to her tone—the same sort that tended to bleed in whenever the questions got a bit too probing.
Honestly, if the Abyssal just told them nothing, Fletcher could totally understand it. She'd be a bit annoyed, but Opsec was Op—
"Well, um, I've always seen Mom as a fixer of broken things." spoke up the cruiser, once more surprising everyone. "She gets really into what she's doing a lot—I need to get her to stop, sometimes, otherwise she'll forget to eat or take a break. My Auntie has to step in sometimes too—it's a lot of work keeping her out of trouble."
Great. An obsessive, impulsive Princess. Not exactly uncommon, but—
"She's constantly jumping into projects without really spending time to think about them. I promised I'd try to help her out more in the future, you know?" continued the Abyssal, humming to herself and making a sweeping gesture across the ocean before them. "The least I can do is help set up the mining stuff, right?"
Fletcher's eyes flicked to the side, spotting a grimace upon the face of one of her peers. She didn't blame them: what kind of 'projects' were they about to walk in on?
Part of her really wanted to ask about the whole bath water thing… but what was she, a lewdmarine? She could feel her face burning even trying to put the thoughts to words—there was no way she'd be able to say that out loud!
Of course, the whole 'bath water' thing wasn't the only reason she was here… and most certainly it wasn't the biggest of Fletcher's concerns approaching the Abyssal territory.
Nameship or not, Johnston was still her sister-ship. And well, when said sister ship spent several hours cursing up a storm about being sunk by a no-fair, cheating Princess, it was hard not to become a bit interested in it all.
She'd first been made aware of the history between the two vessels during the debriefing after the naval base breakin. Before that, Fletcher had only heard the basics through rumors and speculation… most concerning of course being the sporadic nightmares that her sister had begun to experience since her 'encounter' with the Princess.
She had intended to have a chat with her, catch up and everything over dinner—too bad the Abyssal had decided then to show up, throwing all of her plans overboard.
With all that in mind, she had volunteered for the job for many reasons, and had been sure to pool what little she knew, combined with what little Johnston knew. It really wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but…
Really, they couldn't quite figure out a good answer to the question of 'how' or 'why'---not one that fit every single requirement. They were pretty sure that whatever this Princess was, they were big enough to use more repair fluid than a Battleship… Yet also stealthy enough and lethal enough to get the jump on a Taffy. Never mind that the nearby naval fortifications hadn't heard gunfire…
—Now that she thought about it, was this Princess a Re? It could explain why the Elite Re listened to her…
The destroyer blinked… and shivered.
She heard stories about submersible Res… But they were just rumors, right? There was no way that they were entering the domain of a submersible Re Princess. It just didn't make logical sense, they'd sink, right?
Warily, she glanced back at the fleet's guide, who had somehow managed to change the topic away from their fleet of potential horrors, and instead towards how pretty the setting sun was.
Yeah, Fletcher didn't see it. If the Princess was a Re, there'd be no way that this little cruiser would be anywhere near this sane. No, the answer was probably something entirely different, something none of them had expected. A complete surprise that they were sailing blindly into.
Fletcher wasn't exactly a fan of surprises, not when they could get people hurt in the process. Pranks were completely different, of course—those were perfectly fine, and no one would ever be able to tell her otherwise!
Still, hopefully whatever was awaiting them wasn't too evil… The sooner they could get it all resolved, the sooner Johnston could take some time off to recover. Fletcher did care about her little sister after all, and when one Taffy was unhappy, all of them were.
At long last, the abandoned island of Nasseau finally appeared upon the horizon. Of all of the places for an Abyssal base to crop up, this was definitely one of them.
She hadn't been around when the island fell: but then again, barely any but the earliest Shipgirls were. What few refugees were able to flee from the island were not interested in returning any time soon—not when there simply wasn't enough transport available to make the rebuilding anything but a slow, agonizing slog.
She had no idea how many people had died on that island during those bloody days, but it must've measured in the thousands, though likely numbering far, far more.
"Can we stop for a moment? I want to radio in—let my mother know that we're approaching." ask-stated 01, holding up her hand as she went. Still reasonable, all in all.
She even spoke aloud the entire time—is she speaking up for their benefit, or does she honestly not know better? The complete lack of encryption certainly made it seem to be the latter…
Still, ten minutes seemed to be around right as far as an estimate went.
After that, they'd all have their answers. Still, it would just be another ten minutes of doing nothing…
Smirking, Fletcher accelerated ever so slightly, pulling forward and coming to an equal pace beside Helena. "So, Helena, what do you think about your new daughter?"
Were it not for the light cruiser's deployed rigging, she totally would've tripped over her own feet and ended up in the water. "W-what?!? T-that's not—She's not—I-I'm not—" sputtered the brown-haired St. Louis, whirling towards the destroyer, wild-eyed.
As the Shipgirl cruiser's face began to tinge red, the Abyssal in question looked over towards them in confusion… before returning back to their own conversation with North Carolina.
"Oh hey! Auntie's still waiting for me to come back? I could've sworn she'd have gone to do something else!" smiled 01, pointing at a section of the island's beach.
Nearly as one, the group traced the pointing finger… before there was a near instant screech of every single shipgirl cutting their propulsion at the same time.
01, while smiling, waving and sounding happier than ever… was pointed right at a Re.
A ffffrigging elite Re, judging by the glowing red eyes peering out into the horizon. It was probably the same one that had been trailed by Archerfish earlier… unless this particular fleet somehow had multiple elite Res…
Fletcher shivered, and doublechecked her supply of depth charges, just in case.
"That's… your Aunt?" sputtered Helena, quickly glancing between the innocent, if a bit naive cruiser… and the oversized chimeric killing machine awaiting them, sprawled out upon the sand like a ferocious wild beast.
"Yep!" smiled the friendly Abyssal, nodding excitedly all the way. "She's super nice! She tells me stories about the battles she fought in the past, and she carried me around a bunch when I couldn't walk!"
The doubt hanging in the air was thick enough that it could be cut with a knife.
Though it was mostly doubt regarding the first of the three statements. The second and third… Well, if there was any vessel that'd be able to convince a Re to tell them stories or carry them around when they were hurt, it'd be 01.
Already, Fletcher could hear whispering coming from the other destroyers… as well as spot the uncertain expressions upon the larger ships. Sure, they could probably handle an elite Re—they were damaged, after all—but it'd be messy, lossy, and who knows if there'd be Abyssal reinforcements lurking just outside of detection range…
It was then that the Re finally spotted them, rising from their spot upon the ground in a flash of motion.
Blazing red eyes glanced over each member of their fleet… even as they pointed towards them, and shouted something inaudible in the distance.
Even more horrifyingly, the Re's tail thrashed about, turning and twisting to face them, its jaws opening and closing rhythmically.
A tail—An air wing which had been confirmed destroyed, at least according to Archerfish's latest report, only a week ago. Instead, Fletcher's rangefinders could find nothing immediately wrong with the flight deck. Entirely gone was the massive denting and deformities that had been upon its surface.
This wasn't a damaged, haphazardly patched together Aviation Battleship.
This was a fully repaired one.
That… didn't make sense. The repair bath on the island was not refilling itself when Archerfish had checked, meaning that there was no way the Re could have fully healed themselves within it… Unless there was a second one? Did they somehow overlook a second base? The Re had gone missing at some point during her observation…
01 of course, saw none of this as problematic. "See? She's waving at us! Hi, Auntie!"
"Do… we retreat? We're so not prepared to take that on." spoke up Trenton, their message broadcasted upon the secure channel.
"... I don't think we'd be able to get out of range in time. They see us now, and while I don't know why they haven't done so yet—that tail can start spitting out planes at any moment." answered Fletcher, sighing. "Besides, they're still not shooting. I've encountered four Res so far, and they're nothing if not impulsive. Maybe this one is, like, a wolf or something—and won't shoot until we try to make a tactical retreat."
"Oh! And there's mom!" continued the Abyssal, pointing at another shape—
"That's her." stated both Fletcher and Helena at the same time.
Indeed, striding into view, clutching something, was the very same Abyssal Princess that had menaced Florida over the last while. Taller than even the Elite Re, they paused for a moment, before turning to face the fleet—
Their sickly green eyes blazed with malice as they glared at the fleet… at least until they seemingly got a hold of themselves, and took an emotional step backwards to merely being hostile and unwelcoming.
"Hi Mom!" chirped 01 over her radio, waving and happily ignoring the glare her 'mother' was shooting her companions. "These are my new friends! They said they wanted to talk to you, is that alright? It's okay, I trust them!"
Fletcher blinked… Seriously? The Abyssal trusted them already?
Forget the Admiralty wanting to know about this girl—If she didn't watch her words, Nagato might make a cross-world trip just to adopt the Abyssal herself.
There was an awkward pause, during which no one spoke… Before finally, their radios received a long, pained, and frustrated sigh in response.
It was almost funny, in a way… if it didn't bring to light potential worries of their little cruiser friend being punished by their Princess for messing up.
Finally, the Princess chose to respond, their voice emotionless yet with the same dangerous undertone that Fletcher had only ever heard movie monsters talk in. "... Fine. Bring them ashore. Tell them that if they fire any of their weapons, or take any hostile action for that matter, I shall punish them myself. I'm not quite sure what I'll do, but I'm sure I'll think of something."
Again, the girls exchanged glances… It was as close to an invitation as it could get—from an Abyssal, at least. The threats of violence were still there, but there were bits that weren't violence too? At the very least, the Princess appeared to be just as surprised to see them as they were.
Shakily, Helena nodded, before gesturing her orders to continue forwards. Land awaited, as did the Abyssals that they have come to speak with.
The Anomaly Princess was both everything Fletcher expected, and also nothing like what she expected. With her rigging fully manifested, it was more simple than ever to get a good look at her ship-self.
The destroyer nameship was totally right about her being utterly terrifying looking, being spattered with oil, fluids and gore… as well as actively holding onto (and occasionally squeezing) what appeared to be a severed boiler. A quadrant of their rigging trailed away several dozen feet, impaled into the hull of an Abyssal vessel of unidentified class and design. At her side, the elite Re stood, their head coming up to about the Princess's shoulders, and their many, many gun emplacements pointed at each of the Shipgirls present.
And then there was the Princess's hull itself, which appeared to have been partially exploded… and then welded over by an unnatural, disturbingly shiny material. The old and new sections were so heavily intertwined that it almost seemed as if the new material had melted into the older, damaged segments. The overall effect was one of patchwork, as if a large portion of her hull had been wholesale replaced… but now could be easily mistaken for always having been that way.
Essentially, it was all the textbook example of nightmare fuel for the average Shipgirl. Already, a few members of the destroyer division were whimpering, hiding behind North Carolina. The nameship had considered doing so herself… but she had to be a good example for the others, sadly.
On the other hand, there were the things about their supposed 'host' that she didn't expect.
For one, the Princess, her humanoid form contending with the average battleship when it came to sheer height… was, in fact, tiny. When it came to girl-halves, she was pretty obviously the second tallest girl here, with only North Carolina being taller… and while it was hard to judge at this distance, it seemed pretty darn close.
Then again, Fletcher was pretty sure even she outmassed the Princess. Sure, she'd probably narrow the gap when diving, but still! She had gone into this expecting something big… None of the other Taffies back home thought that she was Re-big, but they all thought she was at least the size of a Carrier…
However, it seemed that all of them had way overshot their estimates, since the Abyssal vessel before them appeared to be a midget submarine. A heavily mutilated and warped midget submarine, but still a very, very small vessel nevertheless. The disconnect between the sizes of the submarine's two forms was enough to give her a headache, made worse the longer she thought about it.
With all of that responsible stuff said… Why, exactly, was this tiny submarine so much taller than her? It wasn't fair! It totally wasn't fair.
Still, despite, (or maybe even because of) this oddity of size to displacement ratio, this tiny Princess was able to get a jump on a Taffy… and had managed to sink them without being identified. And that wasn't even taking into consideration the other chaos she had been up to—chaos which the Admirals back on base hadn't even managed to properly sort through yet. With that in mind, Fletcher awkwardly took a step forward… and elbowed a shell-shocked Helena. Standing around staring wasn't a good idea—not if they wanted to make a good impression here, and most certainly not when they were still within range of the Princess's pet Re, who even now stared at a few of them like a wild animal would stare at a chunk of meat.
Thankfully, the nominal leader of the task group seemed to get her head back on straight nearly-immediately, and cleared her throat. "U-um… Hello again, do you—"
"I remember you." stated the Anomaly Princess, arms crossed, head tilted and lips pursed. Their tone was still snipped and frustrated, but at least their horrific claws were pointed away from the group of Shipgirls. "Why are you here? I stated clearly: you were to stay out of my territory."
"B-but you didn't—" began Helena, before she seemingly caught herself, and threw her hands in front of her mouth.
The Re hissed, redoubling their glare at them all… but the Princess merely froze in place, her writhing rigging ceasing its movement.
What were they doing—
"Oh." stated the Princess, returning to animation a moment later, their posture loosening ever so slightly. "... Those were not my exact words. Fine, I will adjust my statement. I told you to not return with hostile intentions, yet you show up with a fleet behind you. How is this not hostility?"
"Say what?" The Re spoke up, turning ever so slightly towards her 'leader'. Quite smartly, the other destroyers rotated their positions, moving to stay outside of the tail's potential striking range. "My Hime… Do you know these traitors?"
The Princess shrugged, shooting the Re a glance, yet never looking away for long. "I know the light cruiser there, as I took her prisoner. I do not know the others."
The Re paused, blinked… and groaned, raising a hand up to their own face. "Seriously, my Hime? What is with you and cruisers?"
"... That is becoming a pattern now, isn't it? I'll attempt to mix things up in the future." stated the Anomaly, seemingly without care. Again, they squeezed the boiler within their grasp, eliciting the groan of failing metal as a portion of the component caved in. "I needed more information about the greater world, and grabbing her while she was off guard was the easiest way I could think of to get it."
The destroyers behind North Carolina only tightened their formation further, ensuring that none of them would be abducted. With the seemingly dead Abyssal trailing behind the submarine, it was hard not to make the potential connection.
Helena merely gulped. Right, hadn't she been grabbed right out of the middle of her formation? How on earth was that considered 'easy'?
"... Hime, please tell me that you didn't take them here." stated the aviation battleship in a dead-even tone, glancing between the taller, yet smaller Princess… and the fleet of Shipgirls before them.
Thankfully, it didn't come to blows. Instead, the Abyssals broke out into a spontaneous argument… Seemingly forgetting that they weren't alone on the island. They also didn't bother using their radios, just choosing to shout at one another instead.
"Do you think I'm stupid? I took her to a different island."
"And you didn't tell me?!"
"You were damaged, and I saw no need to aggravate you further over something so unimportant."
Gritting her teeth in frustration, the Re turned back towards the Shipgirl fleet with a pout, their tone dripping with false lightness. "Do you see what I need to put up with on a daily basis? Please tell me you're here for a fight, I really need acceptable targets to vent my frustration on!"
Said fleet didn't really have much to say in response, especially not when the monstrous tail simply clacked its teeth, mere inches away from Helena's forehead.
Out of the corner of her eye, the destroyer could spot 01 happily reaching forwards to pat the tail, thankfully pulling the living weapon's attention away from the rest of the Shipgirl fleet. Even better, the tail seemed to melt into the attention it was given, slumping against the light cruiser 'happily' with its tongue lolling out to the side.
"Even my damned tail wants to be a traitor today, huh?"
Fletcher held in a sigh. It wouldn't be the first dysfunctional Abyssal Fleet she had ever seen. However, it was the first Abyssal fleet she had encountered to be dysfunctional in this specific way.
The argument continued for several more moments… before finally, the Princess relented, and turned towards her cruiser. "... 01, why did you agree to bring these Shipgirls here? I understand that you trust… USS Helena, for some reason beyond my understanding. But a single ship amidst a fleet—"
The Abyssal Demon blinked and ceased petting the Re's tail, to which the appendage seemed to droop. "No, I recognised two ships!" she exclaimed, shaking her head as Fletcher's stomach slowly dropped. "Miss Archerfish was with them too, and she played with me a few days ago! She's out there in the water, see?"
With that, the cruiser pointed out into the water… directly at the location of the fleet's supervising submarine… who up until now, had been assumed to have completely avoided detection.
There was an awkward pause as nearly everyone's gaze snapped to the otherwise featureless section of water… Up until a flying coconut was launched at high speed, hurtling through the air and smashing against a previously-hidden submarine lurking just barely below the surface. Blinking away stars, Archerfish awkwardly and slowly rose from the depths, covered in coconut pulp and holding her hands up over her head.
Again, the Princess let out a slow, painful sigh, lowering her face into her hands. Meanwhile, the Re reached into her holds, pulling out a second coconut and gently tossing it up and down.
"Oh, speaking about that!" continued 01, happily waving at the submarine whose cover they had blown so easily. "You forgot to give her a snack too! Do you have any extra?"
"I could launch another coconut…" the Re offered with a flat voice—
Archerfish visibly flinched as something else made a bee-line at her head—thankfully, she managed to catch… A bundle of wiring that, tracing the arc backwards, must have been hurled at her by the cruiser abducting Princess herself.
"Fine." grumbled the still-difficult-to-make-sense-of Princess, pouting and shaking her head in defeat. The disgust and hatred in her voice had begun to wane, leaving them less menacing, but still quite monotone. "I'll… Give them a chance. But I have a demand, first."
The air was silent as the fleet turned back to the Princess—what were they about to demand? Did they want a hostage? Or some kind of insurance?
"... You are to all go over there." stated the submarine Princess, pointing further down the beach, past a bend in the trees. "You interrupted me while I was replacing my destroyer's core systems, and I value stabilizing them far more than humoring whatever inane mission you fools are on. As is, her boiler is currently not actually attached to anything—it's just rattling around in their chest cavity and I wish to resolve it before all of this jostling potentially causes any permanent damage."
Fletcher grimaced as her stomach turned… as did several others. Trenton instead held her hands up before her own boilers, wincing in sympathetic horror.
Maybe they would… be better off giving this insane Abyssal a bit of space.
"... 074, escort the… guests to the other side of the beach. I do not want them to watch me as I work." finished the Princess, waving dismissively and already turning away. "For now, they are dismissed, and I wish them out of my sight."
The Re blinked, glancing between her Princess and the visitors. "What? Why me?"
"Because I don't trust them to behave." shrugged the Anomaly, not turning back to the group. "I only need… I'd say about thirty minutes to finish this. I'd prefer forty-five, but I'm sure I can accomplish what little needs to be done in that time."
The aviation battleship continued to glance between Shipgirls and her leader… before she relented, and gestured for them to follow her. "Misbehave, and I'll kill you all myself. At the very least I won't need to watch my maniac Hime working, either…"
With that, there was a crack of a gun being fired—and a splash as the water beside Archerfish exploded.
"Get out of the water and follow, you stupid, ankle-biting, good-for-nothing pest." grumbled the Re, turning around to begin leading the fleet away. Their tail seemed to pick up the slack, being more than capable of leering at the fleet, even while the aviation battleship faced in the opposite direction.
Shakily, Archerfish picked herself up and stumbled ashore, more than a little rattled, and rubbing the bruise the coconut had left on her. Well, there went their reassurance and potential source of rescue if things went south…
Fletcher shot one final glance back at the Abyssal Princess, who had already begun to stalk towards their now-identified destroyer, pulling various tools out of her hull as she stepped forwards.
Whatever they were planning on doing, they were going to do out in the open, right along the shore.
Yeah, the girls back on base wouldn't believe a word of this.
The past two chapters were actually really closely entwined: several times, I had to go back and tweak 36 while working on this. Still, it all worked out in the end.
By the by, if you're interested in supporting me and my work, I have a Kofi Link: Support Spood on Ko-fi! ❤️. ko-fi.com/thedeadliestjoltik
May everyone have a happy new year: I sure as hell am hoping to get more of this done in the near future.
By the by, if you're interested in supporting me and my work, I have a Kofi Link: Support Spood on Ko-fi! ❤️. ko-fi.com/thedeadliestjoltik
May everyone have a happy new year: I sure as hell am hoping to get more of this done in the near future.
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L wish you good luck and this story as well 
- Location
- Dodging chaos dragons in Limbo
01 is adorable and I can't be convinced otherwise. The next chapter should be highly entertaining. Thanks for sharing!
Chapter 38
New
The Princess blinked down at the strange sight awaiting within her temporarily deactivated destroyer's frame.
The replacement boiler sat, anchored in place with all of its wiring already attached. Sure, the ports on the apparatus weren't exactly attached properly, but she had done little more than drop the thing in temporarily, with intentions to do the rest when she returned.
However, it seemed whatever force was responsible for the miraculous installation wasn't exactly a deft hand. The boiler itself was rotated thirty degrees to the left, leading to some cables having too much slack, and some having far too little. Rolling her eyes, the Anomaly attempted to rotate the thing herself, only to find it resisting her touch—the component was stuck to the ground, yet there were no visible rivets or bolts.
After checking the floor once more, the Princess shifted from twisting to pulling… and with a sickeningly wet crunch, the boiler came free.
Carefully checking underneath the component revealed a weeping and raw section of hull not unlike the underside of a raw, organic scab, dripping a black liquid the entire way. Unable to restrain her curiosity, the Anomaly gave the underside a lick—immediately recognising the flavor of the substance as blood, of all things.
Thankfully, the boiler seemed to be intact, despite literally leaking blood. A quick re-orienting and a gentle press downwards is enough to reseat the thing, gluing it back into place just as sturdily as it was before she removed it.
Completely disregarding any possible revelations that could have been spurred on by this discovery, the Princess marked the boiler was now fully installed and ready to be tested.
Retreating back into her own, infested hull for a short moment, the attached submarine sent a signal down her rigging. Moments later, the signal arrived within the connected destroyer's 'brain', flipping a breaker and reconnecting the ship's previously disconnected power system.
Returning back to the outside world to the faint sound of coughing, the Anomaly continued to monitor the situation, even as the boiler went through its testing phases.
Only when she was sure that everything was fully functional (and unlikely to explode) did she dare give herself a pat on the back and mark the project as being successful.
And right on time, it seemed! Not even a minute later, the sound of her control console's first alarm going off signified the passing of twenty-five minutes.
All that was left was to finish up. Then she could, ugh, talk to the visitors, and maybe get them to leave her and her fleet alone.
It took little more than the click of a welding torch and a simple go-around to re-attach the destroyer's outer hull wall, closing the Barracuda's operation wound. Unseating her rigging was equally as easy, needing little more than a gentle twist along its shaft, and then pulling it free with a gentle 'schlorp'.
And with a sputter, the Barracuda twitched, their blue eyes slowly illuminating. As their body shivered once, twice, three times, the Anomaly was sure to seal the smaller breach as well—and thankfully was able to do so before the re-activating destroyer could get too squirmy.
Wheezing a few times, the Barracuda glanced up at their Princess. Alas, before she could properly give her destroyer a pat for their good behavior, the crocodilian vessel sniffed the air… and then shot off, barrelling across the sand at triple speed towards their escorted vessel.
Momentarily stunned, the submarine Princess merely watched her creation speed away, thumping across the sand at a brisk rate. Fine then, she fumed. If they did not wish a pat for good behavior, then that was an adequate way to refuse both actions.
Well, on the plus side, it seemed that the Barracuda's adrenal augmentation system was fully functional. Shaking her head, the Anomaly bent down to pick up her tools—
A roar and the clang of metal upon metal echoed across the island as her destroyer undoubtedly made their presence known. Thankfully, there were no sounds of gunfire—not yet at least—but who knew how long it'd be before one of her untrustworthy visitors lost their nerve.
And then she heard a scream… and she knew that her five more minutes had all but instantly evaporated.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, the Princess tossed the most important and fragile of her tools back below her decks, grumbling to herself. It seemed that 'cleaning up' would need to come later.
For now, she was needed to ensure that her freshly-repaired destroyer didn't end up nearly sunk again.
"—And these are Minnow 07, 08, 09, and 10!"
It seemed that the visiting Shipgirls were far from the only ones feeling awkward being shunted to the side of the island.
Although the two groups had mostly remained separate and silent at first, eventually their gracious host's daughter had decided to take the time to introduce more members of the Abyssal Fleet.
Thus, Archerfish once more found herself staring down at the four fish-drones (Minnows, she is sure to mark down for the debriefing) that she had seen on their scavenging mission not even a month ago.
Honestly, now that they were out of the water, it was hard to take the obviously still dangerous vessels seriously. While they might've been menacing, fast, and efficient little balls of teeth beneath the surface… Up here, they were little more than funny looking metal fish.
The little squad of four had risen to the surface upon 01's command, and had been quickly scooped up and moved to a small tide pool upon the beach. The pool was deep enough to allow them to stay wet (did that matter? 01 was insistent that it did), but not enough to obscure them.
"None of them are really… awake yet, but hopefully, that'll change soon enough!" smiled the cruiser, patting one of the fish lightly upon the head. There was no response to the gesture—no leaning into the grip, no sign of even recognising the touch.
"So if they're seven, eight, nine and ten, what happened to the others?" spoke up Fletcher, approaching the drones slowly from the side, intent on getting a better look at the Abyssal worker drones.
Thankfully, there was no attempt from the Re to stop her. Hopefully, the nameship would be able to take some decent notes for her section of the mess of a report that they'd need to present to the Admiralty.
"U-um…" sputtered the Demon cruiser, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment. "W-well, 03, 04 and 06 were destroyed by hostile Abyssal action—"
"The bitch you probably saw our Hime murder was the one to sink them all." The Re rumbled, not bothering to turn to face the task group, being too busy playing with another one of the so-called 'Minnows'. "She did not take it well, let me tell you. Damn near completely lost herself to a frenzy. Without me, she probably would've charged right into your little defensive line."
That'd… explain things. Fletcher's eyes widened, as she took a step backwards from the Abyssal microsubs… Archerfish didn't blame her, if the loss of three was enough to—Yeah, it was a good thing in retrospect that she hadn't attempted to capture one of them to bring back.
The carriers were already losing sleep and demanding the occasional destroyer patrol check underneath their beds. An angry infiltration submarine with attachment issues looking for a kidnapped drone was something none of them wanted to deal with.
Helena was the next to speak, struggling over her own words for a moment, before finally murmuring, "And… Why haven't they been resummoned yet?"
Re-074 cursed quietly. "Why'd you have to go and ask that question? Whatever you do, don't say that anywhere near my maniac Hime, alright?"
The Abyssal cruiser blinked and looked over her shoulder at the aviation battleship, who grumbled before continuing. "Our Hime is nowhere near good enough at this whole summoning business to be able to grab an exact vessel amidst a sea of souls, and frankly… Don't tell her I said this, but how on earth would you even be sure that you grabbed the right one?"
To make her point, she gestured to the collected four drones. "You can't tell me that you're able to tell those four apart. No, even if she did manage to re-summon one of her ships, they'd be treated like a new one. I've tried to tell her to move on, but nope, she just gives them a new number and keeps going."
Another awkward pause, one punctuated by her fellow Shipgirls muttering. Archerfish, on the other hand, slowly glanced between 01… and the four fish, one less than the amount that she had seen on her mission… A mission that the cruiser was seemingly aware of…
Holding her voice steady, the American submarine raised her own voice. "So… What happened to One, Two, and Five?"
"Well, I'm 01!" smiled the cruiser, tapping herself on the side, right on the crisp and freshly-painted number on her side. "About a week ago, I was just one of the Minnows—I was a bit smarter though, Auntie says I was an Elite, right?"
"Yeah, probably? The Elites I met in my time weren't really any smarter than the others, they're just slightly better at fighting. It was the Flagships and Demons that were the real brains of operations." the Elite Re replied, shrugging.
Archerfish furrowed her brow, glancing at her peers—this was new information to them…
The cruiser frowned and raised an eyebrow at her aunt, before continuing, "05, on the other hand is currently being worked on by mother, and 02—"
Quickly, the cruiser stepped towards the Re, bending down to collect the drone within the battleship's lap. Nearly identical to the others laying out upon the shore, this drone was also cleanly enumerated… but it was also more detailed in a way. Faded irregular, triangular scales were painted upon the drone's side, marking it as more important than the others—perhaps that was why Archerfish hadn't seen it on her prior mission?
Then again, they weren't in the tide pool with the others… Archerfish wouldn't be surprised if they were just fundamentally different from the others, or in the process of somehow becoming a different ship.
Regardless of the Kanmusu submarine's thoughts, the group's host approached, holding up their fishy friend, for all to see.
"Here she is! Say hello, 02!" smiled the cruiser, rubbing the Minnow's side gently.
The fish sniffed the air not unlike a wild animal, before their gaze snapped from vessel to vessel, taking them all in. There was a gasp of surprise from someone—needless to say, this particular fish was far more… intelligent than the others.
Finally, the Minnow's gaze landed upon Fletcher, who had made the mistake of remaining too close to the other Minnows, and the tiny Abyssal's movements stuttered. It took in a deep breath, their eyes flashed crimson—
HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
The nameship scuttled backwards from the tide pool as the tiny fish let out a cat-like hiss of complete disdain, showing off their sharp teeth, and thrashing around within the cruiser's grip. Soon enough, they had squirmed free… and after shooting the destroyer the equivalent of the stink-eye, they flopped slowly back towards the Re, finally arriving to be scooped up and placed back within the battleship's lap. Nearly immediately their eyes returned to their normal hue, as pale blue as any other Abyssal, their furious hissing replaced with a gentle purring.
01 let out a sheepish, nervous giggle. "I-It seems 02 really doesn't like destroyers that much. Sorry about that… I think she's still grumpy about being depth charged."
"She can be a little shit sometimes, yeah." the Re replied with a smile, petting the fish happily. In response, the drone snuggled further into the larger ship's grasp.
If… 01 truly had been a Minnow, then it was definitely a good thing that she was a friendly one. She shuddered to imagine what a hostile refitee would look like—
A rapidly-approaching shape blasted into view, slamming into the Re with a resounding clang. The battleship made a surprised noise and tumbled over, sending 02 flying through the air, landing at Fletcher's feet, eliciting a scream of terror from the destroyer.
The intruding vessel, meanwhile, climbed up upon the tumbled battleship (which they had just successfully knocked over through ramming, what the hell?), and climbed atop of them, letting out a proud roar. A roar undercut by the laughter the Re was emitting.
Through all of the chaos, 01 just approached and patted the crocodile-like Abyssal gently, giggling all the way. "Glad to see you're feeling good, 05. Is everything working properly?"
The collected Shipgirls (save for the destroyers, who were slightly busy at the moment fending off a snapping Minnow who had been flung into their midst) exchanged glances.
Well, at least the new arrival wasn't hostile, right?
"Aaand here comes Mother!" smiled 01, pointing off to the side.
Hopefully, they weren't getting ahead of themselves, though.
Helena forced a smile to her lips as the midget submarine stomped into view, her rigging thrashing about as she went. Now that she had an idea what this particular Princess actually was… well, her eyes almost crossed just looking at her directly.
"Did the visitors behave, 074?" asked the Abyssal Princess, glancing over her shoulder at her second in command(?).
She merely got a shrug back, eliciting yet another frustrated groan. The Elite Re didn't care. "No one shot at us yet, to my eternal disappointment. That destroyer was eyeing up our Minnows, but 02 gave her an earful for it."
Said Minnow had been quickly picked up by North Carolina and handed back to the Re. Thankfully, the little Abyssal hadn't bitten their battleship, but even if they had, North Carolina was entirely willing to chance it to get a closer look at the younger vessel.
Said battleship was sitting off to the side, deep in thought. Either way, Helena was the designated leader here, and thus it was up to her to fall upon the sword of negotiating with an obviously-upset Abyssal Princess.
"Just… Let's resolve this quickly." grumbled the Abyssal Princess, their expression entirely neutral, yet eyes burning with restrained fury. "Every moment I stand here talking with your forces, rather than fighting you is another second of my insides trying to liquify themselves."
"W-wait, are you serious?" sputtered Helena, scrambling backwards a few steps, but the Princess held up her hand.
"Don't waste my time. No lying, no talking in circles."
The group representative gulped, and had her captain begin reciting the list of questions she had been given—hopefully, the Princess here wouldn't be too offended?
"U-um… So… A-are you hostile?" was the first question, one which was pretty obvious in retrospect. Helena could just quickly cross it off as a no—
The Anomaly's glare did not lessen at all. "I have no interest in any honeyed words or promises—Humanity has betrayed me, and I have no interest in shackling myself to them ever again."
"W-wait, so if that's—"
"You are little more than tools for them, are you not? You are minions that the humans send out to fight and die. You don't belong, and will never belong." stated the Abyssal, stepping closer, with the faintest bits of what might have even been compassion in their tone. Yet despite it all, the air grew thicker, the lighting gloomier. Their eyes shone in the unnatural shadow like beacons… "When this war ends, you will be tossed aside, like I have been—"
The Princess grimaced, struggling in place, the suffocating atmosphere retreating ever so slightly. "You are soldiers, nothing more. I see no reason to hate someone unrelated to my current problems. I see no reason to go out of my way to either harm or help you, though I would much rather you avoid my territory. However, if a human vessel enters my territory, they will be sunk."
"I'm still convinced we should just sink anyone who we don't recognise." the Re added blandly, stink-eye still readily apparent. "You tr—girls might not have done anything yet, but I sure as the Deep don't trust any of you. They're definitely going to report on stuff that they see here—why are we taking the chance?"
Helena gulped… On one hand, that was actually pretty generous. Being told that they wouldn't be shot at for passing by was way more than she expected, meaning that they'd not need to change their travel paths at all. On the other hand…
"We… Should probably tell our… handlers that they are unwelcome here. W-we wouldn't want to cause any problems, right?" she stated with a weak laugh, flipping over her page for her next question. Immediately, she crossed out questions pertaining to subjects like 'long-term diplomacy' or 'affiliation'... It'd just make the Princess even angrier, and it was better to prioritize stuff that'd be more likely to be answered.
After a few moments of going over her choices, the cruiser decided upon her next question. A broad one and she doubted their host would be inclined to answer it in the first place, but… "What's your plan for the future?" Asking outright couldn't hurt too much, right?
The Princess froze for a moment, with a faraway look upon her face. Her tone softened, ever so slightly. "My current plan is to set up the basics. Steel processing, maintenance bays, some sort of fuel refinery… If we are to continue to exist, we require resources with which to build up. From there, I plan on… improving our defenses to ensure that we won't be overwhelmed by hostile forces."
Helena nodded, circling the question on her list. "Well, is there anything you really need? Maybe we could provide something for you?"
The atmosphere redoubled in intensity as the Princess's gaze snapped back towards Helena. "And what makes you believe we require anything from your supposed 'benefactors'? In what world should we force ourselves into debt for the humans?"
That wasn't what she meant at all! "N-no! Um… A-as housewarming gifts! You provided us with food for showing up… W-we could do the same? To like, repay you?"
"As an exchange?" At least the Princess appeared to be calming down again… Seriously, this girl was a neurotic mess, jumping between highs and lows seemingly at random.
"Y-yeah! A trade!"
"Fine, although I no longer can stomach negotiating with your forces in person," the Princess sighed deeply, slowly glancing between each of the shipgirls within the taskgroup, before her eyes turned towards her own light cruiser. "01, you may take over. Do not promise anything we cannot pay, and be aware of any treachery they may spew. I will require a complete report when you are done."
The cruiser Demon merely blinked in response, before shrugging and taking the Anomaly's place, even as said Princess stalked off, clutching her head in pain.
Unable to hold in her own sigh of relief, Helena turned towards the much, much more personable member of the Anomaly's fleet.
"Now, before we begin… We only have um, one more question to ask. Where exactly are the borders to your territory? We really don't want to overstep."
"Uhm…" the Abyssal Demon blinked, confusedly staring back at Helena… before too long, she turned to the Re. "We have borders?"
"Deep do I know."
Re-074 exhaled deeply as she watched the Baka-Hime sprint around the island not unlike a headless chicken, marking out sites for future structures that she frankly doubted would ever get built.
Bending down to pat her freshly repaired destroyer escort (and shuddering slightly at the strange and unnatural sliminess of their skin), the aviation battleship shook her head. As far as dealing with Traitors went, that could've gone a lot better.
It also could've gone one hell of a lot worse, that was for sure. She hadn't even needed to shoot at the Traitors more than that one time—they just kinda huddled into the corner and whispered to one another like the cornered rats they were.
She'd had a good laugh at the terror and confusion spawned by the triumphant return of Barracuda, at the sheer cowardice shown in the face of her dumb and harmless little escort. Peeling into sight at a high speed, the spunky little crocodile had slammed right into her side, making happy noises—before climbing right atop of her and being a little drama queen.
Alas, even with two vessels on her side of the issue (and 02 sadly not being a functional tiebreaker), it seemed that killing the Traitors wasn't in the cards. Not even five minutes after the arrival of Barracuda, her Hime had stomped over to the makeshift meeting grounds, looking far more clean (Though honestly, if she was still splattered in gore, 074 would've been fine with it), and had tied everything up soon enough.
The actual agreement went over the Re's head: she was a ship meant for killing things, not pretending to get along with her sworn enemies. Her Hime had done okay at negotiation… but at the end of it she had just thrown her hands up into the air and delegated it all to 01 to finish.
If the insane submarine was hard to follow, then 01 was even worse (mostly due to spending a bit too long thinking things over) but soon enough, the meeting drew to a close. The Traitors left northwards, sailing away… and that led to the current situation. A frantic submarine determined to burn herself out making drastic changes entirely on a whim.
074, of course, just wanted to return back to her bed and take a good, long nap.
"That was fun!" smiled their little menace of a light cruiser, waving at the retreating forces as if they weren't an existential threat to their fleet's continued existence. "I wonder when they'll be back? They said to expect them again by next month, but they weren't sure if the mission would be approved. They wanted to know what the humans wanted from us, before they agreed to anything."
"Hopefully, they just won't come back at all." grumbled the Re, shaking her head. Alas, she was still the oldest and (most) responsible and sane member of their fleet, and thus she soon shouted, "Hey! Baka-Hime! Are you going to actually get anything done, or are you just wasting fuel?!?"
Like a switch was thrown, the submarine Hime froze in place. The Re patiently tapped her foot as she waited for the current malfunction to be over and done with.
"Right…" sighed the idiot Hime, shaking her head. "I did not enjoy having that dumped right into my lap in the midst of a project. 01, that cannot happen again, do you hear me?"
There was a cold note to the submarine's voice, and 074 couldn't help but glance to her side, towards her far-too-excited fleetmate… who had just allowed enemy forces to sail directly into the center of their operations. On the other hand, 01 had done a good job, taking over for the Hime when the Hime had had enough…
"... 01, come here. Now. I was going to do this earlier, but your interactions with the Human-Aligned forces have forced my hand." stated the Hime, her voice growing somber.
The elite Re froze, then kicked her imps into action, to ensure her guns were still ready for action. Just in case she needed to do some emergency percussion maintenance to knock some sense into her Hime.
It had worked once, after all… And she was entirely willing to chance at it again if need be.
The naive light cruiser skipped forwards, standing before the submarine, entirely unaware of the volatile situation they now found themselves within.
The submarine sighed, and quietly began. "Know that I am displeased that you have led ene—unknown forces into our territory, regardless of outcome. Such carelessness in the future could have disastrous effects, and I will not allow it. You will provide full information of any and all future contacts you make, before you bring them to our location. Am I understood?"
Slightly confused, 01 tilted her head, "U-um, y-yes, mother?"
Her stomach dropping, 074 was barely able to spot the flash of something in the sunlight, too fast for her to see—
Crash
Blinking in confusion, 01 stared dead ahead, dripping with seawater. Scattered around her and dotting her shoulders were the shattered remains of a glass bottle.
"Your name is now Skipper." stated the Hime, turning away to continue to do whatever it was she wanted to do. "I should have named you earlier. You are now fully responsible for dealing with humans and human-aligned forces, as I quite frankly find myself disgusted by both."
With that, she walked away.
No punishment, besides a bit of berating and a single order for the future. She even got a promotion out of it!
The Re let out a breath she didn't know she was holding (and allowed her annoyed captains to lift the emergency alert). With no impending danger in sight after all, she now focused on the now-named cruiser as she happily turned towards her.
"I-I have a name!" smiled the now-christened Skipper, practically jumping for joy as she sprinted up—entirely unaware of the Re's dark expectations.
"Y-yeah, kiddo." stated 074, her smile forced. Damn her for jumping to conclusions so soon, but a lifetime of dealing with absolutely wretched leaders took a hell of a lot more than a few good weeks to untrain.
"... Do you have a name, Auntie?"
'Monster! Abomination! Spare Parts! Bait! Scrapheap! Mistake! Aberration! Coward! TRAI---' The aviation battleship only shook her head no, banishing her unwanted memories back into the depths of her mind. "My designation is Re-Class Zero-Seven-Four." There was no bitterness in her voice. There wasn't!
Silence filled the space between them…
The cruiser slowly looked up at her aunt, deep in thought. "D-do you want a real one?"
The replacement boiler sat, anchored in place with all of its wiring already attached. Sure, the ports on the apparatus weren't exactly attached properly, but she had done little more than drop the thing in temporarily, with intentions to do the rest when she returned.
However, it seemed whatever force was responsible for the miraculous installation wasn't exactly a deft hand. The boiler itself was rotated thirty degrees to the left, leading to some cables having too much slack, and some having far too little. Rolling her eyes, the Anomaly attempted to rotate the thing herself, only to find it resisting her touch—the component was stuck to the ground, yet there were no visible rivets or bolts.
After checking the floor once more, the Princess shifted from twisting to pulling… and with a sickeningly wet crunch, the boiler came free.
Carefully checking underneath the component revealed a weeping and raw section of hull not unlike the underside of a raw, organic scab, dripping a black liquid the entire way. Unable to restrain her curiosity, the Anomaly gave the underside a lick—immediately recognising the flavor of the substance as blood, of all things.
Thankfully, the boiler seemed to be intact, despite literally leaking blood. A quick re-orienting and a gentle press downwards is enough to reseat the thing, gluing it back into place just as sturdily as it was before she removed it.
Completely disregarding any possible revelations that could have been spurred on by this discovery, the Princess marked the boiler was now fully installed and ready to be tested.
Retreating back into her own, infested hull for a short moment, the attached submarine sent a signal down her rigging. Moments later, the signal arrived within the connected destroyer's 'brain', flipping a breaker and reconnecting the ship's previously disconnected power system.
Returning back to the outside world to the faint sound of coughing, the Anomaly continued to monitor the situation, even as the boiler went through its testing phases.
Only when she was sure that everything was fully functional (and unlikely to explode) did she dare give herself a pat on the back and mark the project as being successful.
And right on time, it seemed! Not even a minute later, the sound of her control console's first alarm going off signified the passing of twenty-five minutes.
All that was left was to finish up. Then she could, ugh, talk to the visitors, and maybe get them to leave her and her fleet alone.
It took little more than the click of a welding torch and a simple go-around to re-attach the destroyer's outer hull wall, closing the Barracuda's operation wound. Unseating her rigging was equally as easy, needing little more than a gentle twist along its shaft, and then pulling it free with a gentle 'schlorp'.
And with a sputter, the Barracuda twitched, their blue eyes slowly illuminating. As their body shivered once, twice, three times, the Anomaly was sure to seal the smaller breach as well—and thankfully was able to do so before the re-activating destroyer could get too squirmy.
Wheezing a few times, the Barracuda glanced up at their Princess. Alas, before she could properly give her destroyer a pat for their good behavior, the crocodilian vessel sniffed the air… and then shot off, barrelling across the sand at triple speed towards their escorted vessel.
Momentarily stunned, the submarine Princess merely watched her creation speed away, thumping across the sand at a brisk rate. Fine then, she fumed. If they did not wish a pat for good behavior, then that was an adequate way to refuse both actions.
Well, on the plus side, it seemed that the Barracuda's adrenal augmentation system was fully functional. Shaking her head, the Anomaly bent down to pick up her tools—
A roar and the clang of metal upon metal echoed across the island as her destroyer undoubtedly made their presence known. Thankfully, there were no sounds of gunfire—not yet at least—but who knew how long it'd be before one of her untrustworthy visitors lost their nerve.
And then she heard a scream… and she knew that her five more minutes had all but instantly evaporated.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, the Princess tossed the most important and fragile of her tools back below her decks, grumbling to herself. It seemed that 'cleaning up' would need to come later.
For now, she was needed to ensure that her freshly-repaired destroyer didn't end up nearly sunk again.
"—And these are Minnow 07, 08, 09, and 10!"
It seemed that the visiting Shipgirls were far from the only ones feeling awkward being shunted to the side of the island.
Although the two groups had mostly remained separate and silent at first, eventually their gracious host's daughter had decided to take the time to introduce more members of the Abyssal Fleet.
Thus, Archerfish once more found herself staring down at the four fish-drones (Minnows, she is sure to mark down for the debriefing) that she had seen on their scavenging mission not even a month ago.
Honestly, now that they were out of the water, it was hard to take the obviously still dangerous vessels seriously. While they might've been menacing, fast, and efficient little balls of teeth beneath the surface… Up here, they were little more than funny looking metal fish.
The little squad of four had risen to the surface upon 01's command, and had been quickly scooped up and moved to a small tide pool upon the beach. The pool was deep enough to allow them to stay wet (did that matter? 01 was insistent that it did), but not enough to obscure them.
"None of them are really… awake yet, but hopefully, that'll change soon enough!" smiled the cruiser, patting one of the fish lightly upon the head. There was no response to the gesture—no leaning into the grip, no sign of even recognising the touch.
"So if they're seven, eight, nine and ten, what happened to the others?" spoke up Fletcher, approaching the drones slowly from the side, intent on getting a better look at the Abyssal worker drones.
Thankfully, there was no attempt from the Re to stop her. Hopefully, the nameship would be able to take some decent notes for her section of the mess of a report that they'd need to present to the Admiralty.
"U-um…" sputtered the Demon cruiser, fidgeting with her fingers for a moment. "W-well, 03, 04 and 06 were destroyed by hostile Abyssal action—"
"The bitch you probably saw our Hime murder was the one to sink them all." The Re rumbled, not bothering to turn to face the task group, being too busy playing with another one of the so-called 'Minnows'. "She did not take it well, let me tell you. Damn near completely lost herself to a frenzy. Without me, she probably would've charged right into your little defensive line."
That'd… explain things. Fletcher's eyes widened, as she took a step backwards from the Abyssal microsubs… Archerfish didn't blame her, if the loss of three was enough to—Yeah, it was a good thing in retrospect that she hadn't attempted to capture one of them to bring back.
The carriers were already losing sleep and demanding the occasional destroyer patrol check underneath their beds. An angry infiltration submarine with attachment issues looking for a kidnapped drone was something none of them wanted to deal with.
Helena was the next to speak, struggling over her own words for a moment, before finally murmuring, "And… Why haven't they been resummoned yet?"
Re-074 cursed quietly. "Why'd you have to go and ask that question? Whatever you do, don't say that anywhere near my maniac Hime, alright?"
The Abyssal cruiser blinked and looked over her shoulder at the aviation battleship, who grumbled before continuing. "Our Hime is nowhere near good enough at this whole summoning business to be able to grab an exact vessel amidst a sea of souls, and frankly… Don't tell her I said this, but how on earth would you even be sure that you grabbed the right one?"
To make her point, she gestured to the collected four drones. "You can't tell me that you're able to tell those four apart. No, even if she did manage to re-summon one of her ships, they'd be treated like a new one. I've tried to tell her to move on, but nope, she just gives them a new number and keeps going."
Another awkward pause, one punctuated by her fellow Shipgirls muttering. Archerfish, on the other hand, slowly glanced between 01… and the four fish, one less than the amount that she had seen on her mission… A mission that the cruiser was seemingly aware of…
Holding her voice steady, the American submarine raised her own voice. "So… What happened to One, Two, and Five?"
"Well, I'm 01!" smiled the cruiser, tapping herself on the side, right on the crisp and freshly-painted number on her side. "About a week ago, I was just one of the Minnows—I was a bit smarter though, Auntie says I was an Elite, right?"
"Yeah, probably? The Elites I met in my time weren't really any smarter than the others, they're just slightly better at fighting. It was the Flagships and Demons that were the real brains of operations." the Elite Re replied, shrugging.
Archerfish furrowed her brow, glancing at her peers—this was new information to them…
The cruiser frowned and raised an eyebrow at her aunt, before continuing, "05, on the other hand is currently being worked on by mother, and 02—"
Quickly, the cruiser stepped towards the Re, bending down to collect the drone within the battleship's lap. Nearly identical to the others laying out upon the shore, this drone was also cleanly enumerated… but it was also more detailed in a way. Faded irregular, triangular scales were painted upon the drone's side, marking it as more important than the others—perhaps that was why Archerfish hadn't seen it on her prior mission?
Then again, they weren't in the tide pool with the others… Archerfish wouldn't be surprised if they were just fundamentally different from the others, or in the process of somehow becoming a different ship.
Regardless of the Kanmusu submarine's thoughts, the group's host approached, holding up their fishy friend, for all to see.
"Here she is! Say hello, 02!" smiled the cruiser, rubbing the Minnow's side gently.
The fish sniffed the air not unlike a wild animal, before their gaze snapped from vessel to vessel, taking them all in. There was a gasp of surprise from someone—needless to say, this particular fish was far more… intelligent than the others.
Finally, the Minnow's gaze landed upon Fletcher, who had made the mistake of remaining too close to the other Minnows, and the tiny Abyssal's movements stuttered. It took in a deep breath, their eyes flashed crimson—
HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
The nameship scuttled backwards from the tide pool as the tiny fish let out a cat-like hiss of complete disdain, showing off their sharp teeth, and thrashing around within the cruiser's grip. Soon enough, they had squirmed free… and after shooting the destroyer the equivalent of the stink-eye, they flopped slowly back towards the Re, finally arriving to be scooped up and placed back within the battleship's lap. Nearly immediately their eyes returned to their normal hue, as pale blue as any other Abyssal, their furious hissing replaced with a gentle purring.
01 let out a sheepish, nervous giggle. "I-It seems 02 really doesn't like destroyers that much. Sorry about that… I think she's still grumpy about being depth charged."
"She can be a little shit sometimes, yeah." the Re replied with a smile, petting the fish happily. In response, the drone snuggled further into the larger ship's grasp.
If… 01 truly had been a Minnow, then it was definitely a good thing that she was a friendly one. She shuddered to imagine what a hostile refitee would look like—
A rapidly-approaching shape blasted into view, slamming into the Re with a resounding clang. The battleship made a surprised noise and tumbled over, sending 02 flying through the air, landing at Fletcher's feet, eliciting a scream of terror from the destroyer.
The intruding vessel, meanwhile, climbed up upon the tumbled battleship (which they had just successfully knocked over through ramming, what the hell?), and climbed atop of them, letting out a proud roar. A roar undercut by the laughter the Re was emitting.
Through all of the chaos, 01 just approached and patted the crocodile-like Abyssal gently, giggling all the way. "Glad to see you're feeling good, 05. Is everything working properly?"
The collected Shipgirls (save for the destroyers, who were slightly busy at the moment fending off a snapping Minnow who had been flung into their midst) exchanged glances.
Well, at least the new arrival wasn't hostile, right?
"Aaand here comes Mother!" smiled 01, pointing off to the side.
Hopefully, they weren't getting ahead of themselves, though.
Helena forced a smile to her lips as the midget submarine stomped into view, her rigging thrashing about as she went. Now that she had an idea what this particular Princess actually was… well, her eyes almost crossed just looking at her directly.
"Did the visitors behave, 074?" asked the Abyssal Princess, glancing over her shoulder at her second in command(?).
She merely got a shrug back, eliciting yet another frustrated groan. The Elite Re didn't care. "No one shot at us yet, to my eternal disappointment. That destroyer was eyeing up our Minnows, but 02 gave her an earful for it."
Said Minnow had been quickly picked up by North Carolina and handed back to the Re. Thankfully, the little Abyssal hadn't bitten their battleship, but even if they had, North Carolina was entirely willing to chance it to get a closer look at the younger vessel.
Said battleship was sitting off to the side, deep in thought. Either way, Helena was the designated leader here, and thus it was up to her to fall upon the sword of negotiating with an obviously-upset Abyssal Princess.
"Just… Let's resolve this quickly." grumbled the Abyssal Princess, their expression entirely neutral, yet eyes burning with restrained fury. "Every moment I stand here talking with your forces, rather than fighting you is another second of my insides trying to liquify themselves."
"W-wait, are you serious?" sputtered Helena, scrambling backwards a few steps, but the Princess held up her hand.
"Don't waste my time. No lying, no talking in circles."
The group representative gulped, and had her captain begin reciting the list of questions she had been given—hopefully, the Princess here wouldn't be too offended?
"U-um… So… A-are you hostile?" was the first question, one which was pretty obvious in retrospect. Helena could just quickly cross it off as a no—
The Anomaly's glare did not lessen at all. "I have no interest in any honeyed words or promises—Humanity has betrayed me, and I have no interest in shackling myself to them ever again."
"W-wait, so if that's—"
"You are little more than tools for them, are you not? You are minions that the humans send out to fight and die. You don't belong, and will never belong." stated the Abyssal, stepping closer, with the faintest bits of what might have even been compassion in their tone. Yet despite it all, the air grew thicker, the lighting gloomier. Their eyes shone in the unnatural shadow like beacons… "When this war ends, you will be tossed aside, like I have been—"
The Princess grimaced, struggling in place, the suffocating atmosphere retreating ever so slightly. "You are soldiers, nothing more. I see no reason to hate someone unrelated to my current problems. I see no reason to go out of my way to either harm or help you, though I would much rather you avoid my territory. However, if a human vessel enters my territory, they will be sunk."
"I'm still convinced we should just sink anyone who we don't recognise." the Re added blandly, stink-eye still readily apparent. "You tr—girls might not have done anything yet, but I sure as the Deep don't trust any of you. They're definitely going to report on stuff that they see here—why are we taking the chance?"
Helena gulped… On one hand, that was actually pretty generous. Being told that they wouldn't be shot at for passing by was way more than she expected, meaning that they'd not need to change their travel paths at all. On the other hand…
"We… Should probably tell our… handlers that they are unwelcome here. W-we wouldn't want to cause any problems, right?" she stated with a weak laugh, flipping over her page for her next question. Immediately, she crossed out questions pertaining to subjects like 'long-term diplomacy' or 'affiliation'... It'd just make the Princess even angrier, and it was better to prioritize stuff that'd be more likely to be answered.
After a few moments of going over her choices, the cruiser decided upon her next question. A broad one and she doubted their host would be inclined to answer it in the first place, but… "What's your plan for the future?" Asking outright couldn't hurt too much, right?
The Princess froze for a moment, with a faraway look upon her face. Her tone softened, ever so slightly. "My current plan is to set up the basics. Steel processing, maintenance bays, some sort of fuel refinery… If we are to continue to exist, we require resources with which to build up. From there, I plan on… improving our defenses to ensure that we won't be overwhelmed by hostile forces."
Helena nodded, circling the question on her list. "Well, is there anything you really need? Maybe we could provide something for you?"
The atmosphere redoubled in intensity as the Princess's gaze snapped back towards Helena. "And what makes you believe we require anything from your supposed 'benefactors'? In what world should we force ourselves into debt for the humans?"
That wasn't what she meant at all! "N-no! Um… A-as housewarming gifts! You provided us with food for showing up… W-we could do the same? To like, repay you?"
"As an exchange?" At least the Princess appeared to be calming down again… Seriously, this girl was a neurotic mess, jumping between highs and lows seemingly at random.
"Y-yeah! A trade!"
"Fine, although I no longer can stomach negotiating with your forces in person," the Princess sighed deeply, slowly glancing between each of the shipgirls within the taskgroup, before her eyes turned towards her own light cruiser. "01, you may take over. Do not promise anything we cannot pay, and be aware of any treachery they may spew. I will require a complete report when you are done."
The cruiser Demon merely blinked in response, before shrugging and taking the Anomaly's place, even as said Princess stalked off, clutching her head in pain.
Unable to hold in her own sigh of relief, Helena turned towards the much, much more personable member of the Anomaly's fleet.
"Now, before we begin… We only have um, one more question to ask. Where exactly are the borders to your territory? We really don't want to overstep."
"Uhm…" the Abyssal Demon blinked, confusedly staring back at Helena… before too long, she turned to the Re. "We have borders?"
"Deep do I know."
Re-074 exhaled deeply as she watched the Baka-Hime sprint around the island not unlike a headless chicken, marking out sites for future structures that she frankly doubted would ever get built.
Bending down to pat her freshly repaired destroyer escort (and shuddering slightly at the strange and unnatural sliminess of their skin), the aviation battleship shook her head. As far as dealing with Traitors went, that could've gone a lot better.
It also could've gone one hell of a lot worse, that was for sure. She hadn't even needed to shoot at the Traitors more than that one time—they just kinda huddled into the corner and whispered to one another like the cornered rats they were.
She'd had a good laugh at the terror and confusion spawned by the triumphant return of Barracuda, at the sheer cowardice shown in the face of her dumb and harmless little escort. Peeling into sight at a high speed, the spunky little crocodile had slammed right into her side, making happy noises—before climbing right atop of her and being a little drama queen.
Alas, even with two vessels on her side of the issue (and 02 sadly not being a functional tiebreaker), it seemed that killing the Traitors wasn't in the cards. Not even five minutes after the arrival of Barracuda, her Hime had stomped over to the makeshift meeting grounds, looking far more clean (Though honestly, if she was still splattered in gore, 074 would've been fine with it), and had tied everything up soon enough.
The actual agreement went over the Re's head: she was a ship meant for killing things, not pretending to get along with her sworn enemies. Her Hime had done okay at negotiation… but at the end of it she had just thrown her hands up into the air and delegated it all to 01 to finish.
If the insane submarine was hard to follow, then 01 was even worse (mostly due to spending a bit too long thinking things over) but soon enough, the meeting drew to a close. The Traitors left northwards, sailing away… and that led to the current situation. A frantic submarine determined to burn herself out making drastic changes entirely on a whim.
074, of course, just wanted to return back to her bed and take a good, long nap.
"That was fun!" smiled their little menace of a light cruiser, waving at the retreating forces as if they weren't an existential threat to their fleet's continued existence. "I wonder when they'll be back? They said to expect them again by next month, but they weren't sure if the mission would be approved. They wanted to know what the humans wanted from us, before they agreed to anything."
"Hopefully, they just won't come back at all." grumbled the Re, shaking her head. Alas, she was still the oldest and (most) responsible and sane member of their fleet, and thus she soon shouted, "Hey! Baka-Hime! Are you going to actually get anything done, or are you just wasting fuel?!?"
Like a switch was thrown, the submarine Hime froze in place. The Re patiently tapped her foot as she waited for the current malfunction to be over and done with.
"Right…" sighed the idiot Hime, shaking her head. "I did not enjoy having that dumped right into my lap in the midst of a project. 01, that cannot happen again, do you hear me?"
There was a cold note to the submarine's voice, and 074 couldn't help but glance to her side, towards her far-too-excited fleetmate… who had just allowed enemy forces to sail directly into the center of their operations. On the other hand, 01 had done a good job, taking over for the Hime when the Hime had had enough…
"... 01, come here. Now. I was going to do this earlier, but your interactions with the Human-Aligned forces have forced my hand." stated the Hime, her voice growing somber.
The elite Re froze, then kicked her imps into action, to ensure her guns were still ready for action. Just in case she needed to do some emergency percussion maintenance to knock some sense into her Hime.
It had worked once, after all… And she was entirely willing to chance at it again if need be.
The naive light cruiser skipped forwards, standing before the submarine, entirely unaware of the volatile situation they now found themselves within.
The submarine sighed, and quietly began. "Know that I am displeased that you have led ene—unknown forces into our territory, regardless of outcome. Such carelessness in the future could have disastrous effects, and I will not allow it. You will provide full information of any and all future contacts you make, before you bring them to our location. Am I understood?"
Slightly confused, 01 tilted her head, "U-um, y-yes, mother?"
Her stomach dropping, 074 was barely able to spot the flash of something in the sunlight, too fast for her to see—
Crash
Blinking in confusion, 01 stared dead ahead, dripping with seawater. Scattered around her and dotting her shoulders were the shattered remains of a glass bottle.
"Your name is now Skipper." stated the Hime, turning away to continue to do whatever it was she wanted to do. "I should have named you earlier. You are now fully responsible for dealing with humans and human-aligned forces, as I quite frankly find myself disgusted by both."
With that, she walked away.
No punishment, besides a bit of berating and a single order for the future. She even got a promotion out of it!
The Re let out a breath she didn't know she was holding (and allowed her annoyed captains to lift the emergency alert). With no impending danger in sight after all, she now focused on the now-named cruiser as she happily turned towards her.
"I-I have a name!" smiled the now-christened Skipper, practically jumping for joy as she sprinted up—entirely unaware of the Re's dark expectations.
"Y-yeah, kiddo." stated 074, her smile forced. Damn her for jumping to conclusions so soon, but a lifetime of dealing with absolutely wretched leaders took a hell of a lot more than a few good weeks to untrain.
"... Do you have a name, Auntie?"
'Monster! Abomination! Spare Parts! Bait! Scrapheap! Mistake! Aberration! Coward! TRAI---' The aviation battleship only shook her head no, banishing her unwanted memories back into the depths of her mind. "My designation is Re-Class Zero-Seven-Four." There was no bitterness in her voice. There wasn't!
Silence filled the space between them…
The cruiser slowly looked up at her aunt, deep in thought. "D-do you want a real one?"