A secret Abyssal ritual to merge the spirit of HMS Repulse with a Re-class Princess doesn't go as planned and accidentally drags in a few extra memories and scrambles all the others.
Repulse has no idea why she's a Sea Naga or an unholy amalgam of Battleship and Carrier... But that nearby island would look fantastic with a Union Jack and claimed in the name of King George and the Empire.
Things go downhill from there for the Abyssals around her.
Boarding Party Princess HMS Repulse reporting for duty!
Okay, I'm prefacing this snippet with a note about Repulse's armaments. She's an unholy combination of a Royal Navy themed Aviation Battleship with advanced (circa the early 50s) prop aircraft as her air wing and an Abyssal Sea Naga Re-class.
Now, with that out of the way, enjoy.
Re-pulsed By The Abyss: (A Kancolle Quasi-SI Abyssal snippet)
[Are you sure the ritual succeeded? I'm not seeing any response from the crew...]
An oddly distorted voice danced on the edge of hearing as I felt myself awaken from... something I couldn't recall.
[Ha! You spoke too soon!] A second voice, a woman's if also bearing a strange undertone, crowed in obvious delight somewhere near my head. [I told you that our experiment couldn't fail!]
Her companion grumbled something my fuzzy mind couldn't interpret before I heard footsteps moving briefly away before returning. Then, I felt something, correction, a many somethings, land on the mostly numb skin/deck and make their way towards what felt like a collarbone/access hatch. The unsettling blend of diametrically (ooh, that's a nice word) opposed concepts had me trying to move my body/hull to little effect beyond a nigh-imperceptible twinge in the direction of my legs... with the resulting opposite idea a confusing blend of keel/propulsion/flight deck. My pained gasp at the spike that drove into my poor skull prompted a gasp from the unseen watchers.
[Oh, Deep, did we forget to repair structural members in her tail?!]
Wait, did she just say tail?
Her stern companion grunted as I felt the access hatch open. [I made sure to repair them before we began the ritual, Sister. Now, shut up and let my engineering party see about rousing our new sister's crew.]
[There's no need to be rude...]
Grumpy's wording provoked a fey blend of making complete sense and leaving me deeply confused. Yet, despite the conflicting emotions, a deep-rooted part of my being was growing increasingly on-edge as the boarding party traversed my body/below deck. The innumerable tiny footfalls left an oily feeling behind them, prompting a response from my immune system/Marines, the resulting pain noticeably dulled as I beheld an offputting sight in my mind's eye. Dozens of squat, almost humanoid figures clad in oily black carapace speaking in the King's English/unintelligible chittering swiftly moved through dark, unlit corridors and crew spaces towards what I made out to be several armouries. I forced myself to stay quiet as my crew armed themselves with submachine guns, rifles, boarding cutlasses, and a Bren gun they found somewhere in one enterprising Gremlin's case.
These Gremlins might look like something out of a trashy Pulp novella, but their conviction to defend me shone through their otherworldy exteriors.
So it was that, as my... capturer's boarding party made their way towards my head/bridge, they themselves were shadowed by a bloodthirsty band of heavily armed little monsters. And while I gradually adjusted to the clashing sensations coming from my body/hull, the marines shed a few of their number to rouse the rest of my crew from their induced torpor while warning them to stay in their quarters for now. Each awakening chipped away at the fog clouding my mind, bringing with it an increasing desire to strike down the parasites attempting to subvert me to their foul cause. Though that left the question of what cause my captors served curiously blank beyond a general feeling of wrongness.
The Gremlin with the Bren paused beside a hatch and carefully removed the tattered and salt-encrusted flag from above it. Part of my mind immediately recognised the Royal Navy Ensign, and with it came a rush of distorted memories of pain, roaring engines and watching a similar flag slip beneath the waves.
I was... I am His Majesty's Ship Repulse... or at least I think I am.
But, as I quickly disguised my recollection as a breath that drew delighted sounds from my captors, I kept a close eye on my Gremlins. The jammy bastards had gotten within a stone-throw of the hostile party as the latter emerged onto my bridge and began their foul work. The fact that the interlopers were oblivious to the short platoon of pissed off marines with enough firepower to sink a destroyer brought a measure of dark amusement to my mind.
[Huh, the bridge crew haven't woken yet,] Grumpy mused over my chest. [I hope our sister isn't this lazy when she's awake, Abyss knows we'll have an awful time getting her to do anything.]
[I'm sure she'll turn out to be an excellent Flagship,] her soft-spoken companion replied.
I, meanwhile, had been seized in the grip of hatred so overwhelming that it washed over my Gremlins and drove them into a bloodthirsty rage. The most intrusive of my captors cried out as her engineering team were cut down in a deluge of bullets before the marines advanced and finished the job with steel and claw. A great deal of panicking and crashing came from around me, but all my focus was on the Sergeant who pulled a barnacle-encrusted telephone off its hook and bellowed down the line and across my entire hull.
"ACTION STATIONS, ACTION STATIONS! SET CONDITION ONE THROUGHOUT THE SHIP! THIS IS NOT A DRILL, I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"
[She just butchered my entire engineering team!]
Something metallic clattered to the floor, followed by smashing glass. [What did you do to our sister!]
[I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING! THE CRAZY BITCH'S MARINES KILLED MY CREW AND SOUNDED GENERAL QUARTERS!]
Soft-spoken's terrified response made me grin. [Oh no... Oh, Deep, we're in an enclosed space with a RE!]
My crew sprang into action, able-seamen and officers rushing for their duty posts as the Gremlins made their way to my gun batteries and anti-aircraft emplacements. My engine-heart roared to life as the four-dozen boilers (larger and more of them than I remembered) were fired up by octopus-like engine crew, granting me the strength to feel and move my hull-body for the first time. The unexpected realisation of mustering aircrews and planes deep within my... tail nearly had me missing the arrival of my bridge crew to their stations. Each was a machine and flesh abomination against man and nature, yet I only felt excitement as my deformed Captain began hissing orders and ordered the bridge shutters raised.
A pale, corpse-like woman's face was locked in a rictus of terror before my hand wrapped around her throat and used 250,000 SHP of force to crush her throat. The fey light in her fishy eyes died as I noted the concerning yet comforting presence of water surrounding us before I tossed the malformed corpse aside and swept the room for the second ENEMY. She found me before I discovered her, a brief cry from my sonar operators heralding a torpedo impacting the torpedo-bulge running down my tail-hull. But, before I got myself turned around towards the source of the attack, a yet-awoken piece of me came to predatory life and lunged. Words failed me as I watched the brutally armoured snake/shark/dragon head on the end of my tail (and dear lord was my tail massive) use its serrated metal jaws to reduce the screaming woman/Light Cruiser to pale flesh, shorn metal and spilt oil.
"You're covered in turrets," I chided the... thing and discovered my voice was quite pleasant to the ears. "Did you really need to eat them?"
The head guiltily dropped half a chewed keel and looked down at the floor, giving me a good look at the superimposed triple turrets atop it. Instinctively, I knew the gunners within needed another few seconds to load the 16" shells the naval rifles fired, an upgrade over the tree twin 15" turrets I possessed... before. Shaking my head to dismiss the agony of trying to recall fragmented memories, I spent a moment admiring the sheer amount of firepower and armour my tail was covered in. But, alas, my investigation of the undeniably foreign limb and the hangars I felt within ran into a sizeable blockage.
I was, of course, speaking of the pale blue bosom I now possessed that put the work of cartoonists to shame and defied all attempts to be covered up. Yet, strangely, I felt no embarrassment about displaying the expansive spheres even as I struggled to pull my jacket over them to little success. I called a truce after my garment emitted an ominous creak, reminding myself to find a uniform befitting a warship of His Majesty before turning my gaze inwards to see what my Captain was proposing.
A minute and a toothy smile later, I deposited a handful of my miniature Gremlins onto the deck of the Heavy Cruiser whose neck I'd snapped. The sole officer with them approached the closest hatch, wrenched it open, then howled into the yawning void within. Silence greeted the parley attempt before an incredibly faint and hesitant voice responded in accented yet understandable English. Grinning, I deposited a junior lieutenant with the boarding party to discuss terms of surrender and slithered, for lack of a better word, towards the nearest work surface. I thanked whatever allowed my clashing ship and snake mermaid sides to work together as my fingers brushed across the eclectic array of glowing and bubbling scientific apparatus and alchemical gear sharing table space. None of it made any sense, and I began suspecting my captors had been practitioners of the occult, for how else could a ship be turned into a... Naga?
While my fragmented memories brought women with the lower half of snakes to mind, I felt and looked close enough to qualify.
A chittering shout from my bridge found one of the crew holding a handset to his ear-hole before he began talking.
"What do you mean the enemy crew think we're going to eat them?
A growl and a hand jabbed towards the tail-head sniffing the cruiser it'd killed.
I blushed. "That... that's fair, I suppose. Please relay that they'll be given fair treatment as prisoners of war per the rules of war."
A mutter into the handset before the Ensign gave me a thumbs up with one of their three digits. Movement from the amalgam of black machinery and corpse-white woman that was the hostile ship heralded a steady procession of deformed little demonic figures guarded by my boarding party. I mentally instructed my grumbling aircrew to deploy gangplanks and make space in one of the side hangars for the prisoners before drawing alongside the corpse and letting the transfer go ahead. Surprisingly, the enemy crew were in good spirits as they shimmered in a painful haze before I felt their presence within my tail-hull. Chalking the impossibility down to more occult sorcery, I again chided my tail-head for chewing on a shattered 6" turret before heading towards the only door present.
I warily eyed the tight doorframe before my spotters helpfully noted my tail was just narrow enough to slip through. So, holding an arm across my bosom to keep it from bouncing, I squeezed through the gap with no appreciable leeway and cursed the occultists for making me so very large. My new hull was a far cry from the sleek Battlecruiser I'd once been, yet not even my crew could tell me what my current specifications were to my irritation. I was some kind of abnormally oversized aviation battleship with an undoubtedly eyewatering displacement and draught, as insane as that combination was when I was also a Sea Naga. But, concerns over my size aside, I busied myself with sticking my head into rooms I passed on the lookout for anything understandable.
But, unfortunately, all I found were more rooms full of occult equipment in defiance of the underwater locale, gently writhing living shelves and other disturbing views.
The lack of intelligence or even essential clues as to where in the hell I was left me no choice but to order the prisoners interrogated. But unfortunately, the demonic critters began panicking when my marines grabbed one and things devolved from there. I was forced to stop as the ongoing brawl sent uncomfortable gurgles through my tail, and I helplessly waited for my crew to get the situation under control. Yet, when the triumphant Gremlins cowed the prisoners with only a handful of deaths among the latter, I moaned when the critters revealed they knew precisely jack all.
"Why couldn't you have snagged an officer?" I growled at the marine officer standing on my palm.
The little bastard had the gall to shrug and warble in the negative before miming a throat slash with his pincer hand.
"They all committed suicide?" The Gremlin nodded, and I scowled. "Wonderful, we're dealing with fanatical fish people from Innsmouth that live inside occultist women who are also warships."
The marine chittered and pointed at me, well, at my bosom given its size and the angle.
"I'm well aware of my current appearance, Captain; there's no need to be crude."
He snapped a lazy salute and vanished inside my hull with much less mind-bending visuals than the prisoners had. So, shaking my head at the audacity of cheeky marines who thought complimenting my oversized bust was an excellent way to avoid punishment, I set about finding an exit. More irritatingly tight corridors dogged my search as I got stuck more than once and needed to throw more power into my propellers to burst free, yet I avoided lashing out in anger. Instead, the familiar yet alien emotion lurked deep within me, waiting for a chance to erupt with the force of a bomb, something I had no explanation or cure for, to my shame. More than once, I found my tail-head taking bites out of the scenery, but I hadn't the heart to tell it off for the vandalism, not when I wanted to open fire and destroy this cursed underwater bunker.
Salvation came in the form of a vertical passage leading towards the distinctive shape of an armoured hatch far above my head. I brushed a stray lock of incredibly lengthy silver hair out of my eyes and set about ascending without getting stuck. Unfortunately, that didn't work as well as planned, so I was fuming and listening to my crew complaining about being knocked about by the time I reached the hatch and turned the wheel. The complaints died as the siren call of the surface beckoned me from mere metres away, my powerful lower half shattering metal like crockery as I rocketed upwards and felt glorious sunlight on my pallid skin!
My first view of the surface was of a looming forested mountain that dominated the island I'd surfaced alongside. Spotters began calling out targets as my rangefinder-eyes landed on the pack of machine/shark hybrids darting out of a small port hidden within the trees that ran all the way down to the coastline. Even in its sparsely-populated state, my warbook identified the four-stack Clemson's on the spot and dismissed their guns as threats. Instinctively, my primary and secondary batteries started laying the range to the approaching destroyers, yet an insistent cry from my hangars provided me with another option. Grinning at the incoming enemy, I gave my CAG the go-ahead and watched as groundcrew guided a squadron of Sea Fury's and one of Westland Wyverns towards the hangar elevators. Then, pushing aside the lingering doubts over my having FAA aircraft aboard, I went to flank speed and turned into the wind.
The hostile destroyer's formation fragmented as I accelerated towards them and the lethal torpedos they carried instead of avoiding getting in close.
The QF 4" MK XVI DP guns lining my flank and tail-head thundered as my fire directors targetted the lead enemy ship. Turrets that would have been unable to engage as a steel hull only required a tail wiggle on my part to engage, and what a sight it was. At barely two kilometres from them, the twenty-four 38 pound HE shells easily bracketed the flesh and metal hybrid before one stuck it amidships... right atop the port fore torpedo launcher. I howled with laughter as the enemy detonated in a glorious orgy of shrapnel and fire before flicking my tail upwards to boost my aircraft into the air. Fey instincts, half-remembered training and a whole boatload of enthusiasm saw me spotting the hostiles launching torpedos along my course and choosing to dive underwater. What would be insanity as a steel hull came as naturally as breathing to me as I cheekily waved at the dumb fish sailing overhead before grinning as a thought struck me.
But, first, I joined my Captain in howling my battle lust for all to hear.
The oldest I-class destroyer among Uwi Island's tiny garrison barely had time to scream before the insane oversized Re-class erupted from the water and grabbed it around the midsection. It had no idea why the capital ship had attacked the patrol, but its futile attempts to wriggle free died as it felt tiny feet land on its deck with fierce warcries. Again, the shark-like Abyssal barely had time to register what happened before most of its small crew were slaughtered without managing to inflict a single casualty. The I-class's awareness faded to nearly nothing as the boarders departed before the laughing Re-class cast it adrift.
It didn't have time to scream as the explosive charges planted on its torpedos detonated and broke it in half.
The four remaining Abyssal destroyers panicked as the mad capital ship's hull briefly vanished as seemingly every gun it possessed opened fire. One I-class had the misfortune of being cored by six 16" shells, though its narrow hull wasn't sufficient to arm the projectiles before they ploughed into the water on the far side. However, that was little consolation to the poor ship as the shell's passage had broken its keel before 40mm guns raked the sinking hulk till it exploded. Another tried to cross the Re's bow while firing its 4" guns only to disappear as the torpedo the aviation battleship lobbed underhand took it in the aft magazine. The remaining I-class took one look at the cackling warship ploughing through their comrade's wreck without halting and simultaneously turned tail and redlined their boilers.
Neither were intelligent enough to wonder why the Re-class slowed to a halt and let the range open up between them, though one had enough wits about it to hear a growing high-pitched whine. Its feral mind thought to search for the sound and caught a glimpse of the Westland Wyverns perpendicular to its course before the RP-3 rockets the strike craft bore smashed into the thin-hulled destroyer. The turboprop aircraft screamed over the burning hulk before heading towards their home ship, leaving the last I-class to believe itself safe before the Hawker Sea Furies came to say hello with Hispano Suiza shells.
The waters around Uwi Island rang out with one more explosion before the only noise was that of aircraft landing on the Re-class's flight deck. The overbuilt and oversized aviation battleship peered at the slaughtered patrol with sulphurous yellow eyes before it looked towards the hidden port. The lesser Abyssals manning the handful of small calibre AA emplacements took one look at the heavily armed marines and crew pouring over the battleship's sides onto the dock and wisely surrendered. While the humans and their allies would consider such an impossibility from the eldritch entities, infighting and violent changes in command bred a certain pragmatism in the Deep's footsoldiers.
Better to survive than die for a ship that considered you disposable, even if the new owner said weird things.
"Welp, I suppose I claim this island in the name of King George and the Empire."
While Repulse didn't know it as she warily eyed the dock before slithering onto land, the mystical aura that cloaked every Abyssal installation, great and small, changed to reflect the new ownership.
Singapore Harbour Princess looked up from her tea and peered across the strait separating her from Kalimantan as a new domain appeared on her more esoteric senses. But, after a few moments considering the familiar yet new signature, she turned back to her tea and put the newcomer out of mind for now. Perhaps she'd sent a representative in a few weeks to see if the new Princess was still around, though she hoped they were for novelty's sake if nought else.
Boarding Party Princess was such an intriguing title, after all.
And this is the artwork that inspired Repulse.
Her tail is thicker, completely covered in armour and guns, and has the flight deck atop it, but this is pretty much her in terms of looks.
Music for the chapter is from... I think COOL & CREATE.
The shore party that ascended the slopes of Uwi Island's mountain were the best of the best of Repulse's marine compliment. They were the first to awaken and strike at the hated Innies with bullets, steel and claw and thus more remarkable than their fellows. The short platoon of human-sized Gremlins cut through the dense undergrowth on a straight-line path to the summit, utilising their otherworldly strength to clamber up sheer rock faces where ropes would fail to secure. One among the marines' number had been granted the ship's boon and had the honour of wearing a beret at a jaunty angle atop their carapace-covered head, the waterproof cylinder with their precious cargo tucked into their backpack.
His Bren gun was over the other shoulder, naturally.
It wasn't long before the shore party reached the summit and promptly set about demolishing the trees blocking their view. So, after several kilos of plastic explosives and a lot of cursing, the last shattered trunk was shoved down the slope and let the mission commence. Brenny, because he decided he liked the name, waited for his fellow Gremlins to assemble the flag pole and drive it into the exposed rock before removing the repaired Union Jack from its container. He reverently attached the precious flag to the flagpole and saluted with the rest of the party as their officer set it to full mast.
The watching Westland Whirlwind relayed the news to the ship wherein Repulse fired a full thirty-six-gun salute from her 4" secondaries. The Gremlins erupted in cheers as Uwi Island was properly claimed for King and Country and good-naturedly jeered at the engineers arriving via helicopter to erect defences around the summit. The trip down to the port was much faster on account of the marines curling up and rolling down the slope for shits and giggles. Finally, a dizzy but victorious shore party stumbled onto the docks to the cheers from their disembarked fellows working on renovating the sparse facilities for Royal Navy use.
Yet, without wasting time, the full-sized Gremlins trooped towards Repulse's brilliant form floating alongside the dock. Their home ship opened her arms invitingly and welcomed each and every one of the marines with warm praise as they reappeared inside her hull where they belonged. Being able to fuck around in human size was fun and all, but inside, Repulse was the only place they felt truly at home.
The aviation battleship carefully folded her arms beneath her impressive bust and proudly watched the Union Jack flying from the mountain's peak. Uncertain memories of watching US Marines raising a flag over a bombarded mountaintop had driven her to copy the feat. Yet, Repulse couldn't recall witnessing such an act before she... sank.
"Fuck it," she muttered and headed towards the bunker's entrance. "Let's see what I can salvage."
Hungrily chewing on the front half of a very dead and salvaged shark destroyer, I cast an eye over the Light Cruiser's empty hull docked in the port's tiny dry-dock. My eyes showed me the corpse-white woman blended with light-drinking machinery hanging from a frame, yet my ship senses displayed a silent hull with a crushed superstructure. Tearing a chunk from my new favourite food, I sent it to the bottomless pit that was my various supply rooms and assorted bunkers and contemplated the mystery before me. Bloodthirsty instinct demanded I consume the empty shell to replenish my reserves, prompting hungry grumbles from my upper half's thick midriff and from deep within my tail. But, as I studied the mystery enemy cruiser, a new urge overrode my primal hunger for a need far more pressing.
I needed a fleet.
It... it made a lot of sense as I realised how tenuous my position was on Uwi Island. To the east and south lay other, larger islands in Innie hands, scouting patrols of Wyverns having spotted a modest force of cruisers and destroyers based on the largest landmasses in the archipelago. The snack steadily vanished as I worried away while discussing the issue with my captain, whose suggestions invariably included explosions. And, while I had the strike capability from my aircraft to wipe the enemy off the map, to say nothing of my naval rifles for shore bombardment, God knows what lurks beyond these islands. Not even chowing down on the second half of the salvaged destroyer helped ease the nervous flutter in my gut, though my quartermaster did send his thanks for the restocking.
Eventually, I summoned an engineering party to my palm. "Alright, gentlemen, the current strategic situation is shit, so I need that cruiser repaired through any means necessary."
A shark-looking petty officer raised a flipper and gurgled.
"You think she was a Mogami?" I peered at the ship's triple turrets. "I thought the Japanese fitted them with eight-inch rifles?"
I blushed up a storm as the entire party aggressively corrected my mistake.
"A-Alright," I stammered. "My warbook isn't very complete right now, hence the mistake. Still, what would you need to restore her to working order?"
The little devils huddled up and began chattering amongst themselves while I polished off the last of my ready food. But, before I could make a note to salvage another destroyer to eat, the petty officer broke from the huddle and started chittering.
"What do you mean you need all the destroyers for their steel?" I demanded. "What about the Heavy Cruiser in the bunker?"
A flipper gestured to my stomach, then my tail and finally out towards the open ocean. The accompanying tirade was admittedly deserved on my part, but did they really need to disparage my displacement in such a crude manner? I already knew my new hull possessed a suitably large resupply requirement, but some of the comments were beyond the pale.
Eventually, I snapped. "I am not an armoured oil tanker, Petty Officer! I am an Aviation Battleship of the Royal Navy in service of King George, and you shall grant me the respect I deserve or so help me God!"
A number of the engineering team sprinted for the hatches and vanished below-deck. Still, those that remained wilted beneath my icy glare and guilty shuffled from flipper to flipper before the petty officer mumbled an apology. And, feeling mentally tired after exploding at my own crew, I inclined my head and cast a rueful glance at my stomach... or what I could see of it past my bosom.
What is it with these occultists and their love of large bustlines?
"I apologise for the outburst, gentlemen; it was unbecoming of a ship of the Royal Navy," I expressed as I coaxed the hiding crew from below-decks. "If I secured a sister vessel for the replacement parts, would that work better than salvaging the destroyers?"
The group nodded like squishy bobbleheads.
I slithered across the dock and placed the party on the light cruiser's deck. "Throw together a preliminary plan of action while I wait for nightfall, and then we'll see about grabbing ourselves a donor for the parts."
Still, as they happily ran off to perform their duties, I gave myself a once over and tried to put the mean comments out of mind.
"I'm most certainly not an oil tanker, no matter some rude little petty officer's claim about my beam."
The violent leadership change on Uwi Island had prompted the minor Abyssal Princess controlling the archipelago to cast a wide patrol net around her northwestern border. Her upgraded Ni-class destroyers were suited for the lone patrols while still being primarily disposable, a fact the creatures somehow detected and didn't appreciate. Alas, they had no choice but to split into single-ship units and act as an early-warning tripline in case the newcomer decided she wanted to take the junior Princess' territory. So it was that one particular Ni-class found itself many miles from support in the dead of night with warnings not to reveal its position on the threat of scrapping.
Unfortunately for the destroyer, it wasn't expecting an attack from below the surface.
There was a brief moment of rocking as something significant displaced a lot of water beneath the Ni-class' keel before a strong hand clamped its jaws shut with painful force. The creature bucked with all the SHP it could muster and call for help, but a hand grenade tossed into its radio room gutted the delicate equipment and left the destroyer alone and vulnerable. But, rather than be slaughtered by the horror from the deep that had captured their ship, the Abyssal's crew found themselves being held at gun and bayonet point by oddly cheerful marines. Fearful loyalty to the junior Princess kept them from accepting the surrender offer, but the awe-inspiring visage of a True Princess briefly popping her head up to wave at the stunned crew swiftly changed their minds.
The Ni's commander shook the lead marine's pincer and suggested a few changes to the proposed plan to a smile from the heavily armed Gremlin.
Several minutes later, the Tsu-class light cruiser who'd lost the bet to monitor the destroyers received a signal from one of the Ni-class. Grumbling out loud about stupid destroyers and under her breath about neurotic Princess', she cast off the dock and took a meandering course towards the now-silent patrol ship. She didn't want to be on this side of the island, not with all the activity springing up around Uwi to the northwest, but the Tsu wasn't in the habit of getting herself scrapped for refusing shitty jobs. What was the point of getting close enough to speak when sending a radio message from the port would have been faster and easier?
It was a very grumpy and bored Tsu-class who pulled alongside the stationary destroyer. "Tell me, what was so important to drag me all the way out here?"
The dumb creature softly barked and pointed its bow towards Uwi island. For a second, it sounded like the destroyer's crew was giggling, but the pallid cruiser dismissed such a stupid notion and waited for the report. Most of it was typical fare from the last couple of days and night; the noise of heavy machinery and planes echoing across the water, but, towards the end, the cruiser cocked an eyebrow. Unless she was mistaken due to the low volume, the Ni-class had mentioned spotting an enemy within boarding range of it. But, glancing around, she only saw the dark ocean and the lights from her home port and turned back to glare at the idiotic waste of fuel.
"I'm the only thing in range, you deformed..."
Water exploded beneath the Tsu as an overpowering presence suddenly made itself known and wrapped her in a crushing grip that her panicked eyes discovered to be a heavily-armoured tail. There was no time to scream before a hand clamped over her mouth and yanked the Tsu backwards hard enough that her structural members creaked. Thick, cloying waves of pure Abyssal magic washed over the frightened cruiser as she felt boarders leap onto her hull and begin their gruesome work without a shred of mercy. Consciousness faded as her crew were butchered futilely attempting to fight back against the boarders until, with the death of her captain, who went down shooting, the Abyssal Tsu-class light cruiser ceased to exist. Silence reigned across the tiny stretch of the ocean as the oversized Re-class responsible for the slaughter checked if anyone noticed the commotion.
But, when none of the distant escorts showed any sign of rousing, Repulse patiently waited for a prize crew to board the enemy ship and released it when they took control of the helm.
Things took a turn for the strange as she adjusted her top from where the cruiser had upset it as the boarded Ni-class showed no signs of sinking. In fact, the shark/machine hybrid was giving her what she could only call puppy dog eyes despite its horrifying appearance. Repulse pursed her plush lips and leaned in close to see the Gremlins waving at her beside the still alive crew of the vessel, who wasn't nearly as cheerful.
"What do you think you're doing?" she hissed.
Somehow, despite using a hooded signal lamp, the Gremlin's response was respectful and sarcastic.
Repulse blinked, half-scowled, then allowed a tiny smile loose. "You seriously intend to bring it back home? Why?"
In response, a familiar marine holding a Bren threw a pincer arm around the destroyer's commander's shoulders, the pair sharing cheeky chins that made the aviation battleship groan internally. Then, reminding herself to get the full story out of them back at the port, she waved the mad bastards and their new friends towards Uwi Island.
"Go straight back and into a dock," Repulse ordered before rubbing the destroyer's skull-like head.
The motley pair of a light cruiser with a prize crew and a defector escort set off at a steady clip towards the safety of their home port, leaving the Sea Naga flagship behind as she studied the distant shores of hostile lands. With any luck, the Innies wouldn't notice their missing patrols till it came time to report in with the dawn. Shaking her head at the absurdity of running a patrol line without clear lines of communication, Repulse went to leave only for her stomach to rumble hungrily. Her piercing gaze snapped towards the closest of the destroyers as she debated taking their crew prisoner before scuttling the ship for a later snack or a very soon snack. The aviation battleship suddenly blushed, tried to glare at her traitorous belly and turned her bow towards home.
"Don't worry, Repulse," she reassured herself. "You're not some kind of glutton; you're just peckish."
I gave the engineers glaring at my belly an upturned nose and ignored their chittering to study the two light cruisers squeezed into the solitary dry-dock we had. I felt more than a little sluggish and heavy as I slithered around the dock, thanks to a good half of my engine crew helping survey the donor vessel for compatibility. Hell, everyone with metalwork or electrical experience were disembarked and crawling over the cruisers, leaving me down a good third of my crew and thus not running on all cylinders. So, quietly hoping they'd come back soon so I wouldn't feel so rotten, I considered what to do with my prize.
I'm speaking, of course, about the captured destroyer.
Despite it being the easiest option, I refused to scuttle the... adorable enemy destroyer that had defected. Cheers and happy barking rang out as my marines had a little joy ride around the bay while also serving to stress-test the destroyer. I waved and hid a smile behind a hand as the unholy abomination against aesthetics and naval engineering bounced in and out of the mild waves present, each time spraying a cloud of water everywhere. It was about as intelligent as the dogs whose behaviours it mimicked, yet part of me recoiled at the prospect of getting rid of a ship from my fleet.
A perfectly timed call from the survey team let me avoid mulling on those weird urges and focus on something of interest. I chose not to stare overly long at the donor vessel lest I get called out for wanting to eat it and lowered my upper half to speak with the petty officer leading the team. His angry gesticulating had me assuming I was the cause, but listening on revealed he just really, really hated whoever had designed the light cruisers. My eyebrows gradually climbed as the team began chiming in about the horror of someone mass-producing a Mogami by cutting every corner possible till they vanished behind my (admittedly long) fringe.
As a flagship, the news disgusted me from the litany of critical flaws waiting to happen... but as a Sea Naga, something the officer said stuck out to me. So, feeling the inklings of an idea take shape, I raised a hand to quiet the huffing sailor. At the same time, I tasked a handful of ratings with drafting experience to sketch up a rough sketch of what I envisioned.
"You mentioned that you'd need to tear the cruiser down to her keel to correct the flaws, correct?"
Confused, the shark-person exchanged a few murmurs with his companions before hesitantly nodding.
"And she'd still be top-heavy if she retained her current armaments?"
Another, slightly less hesitant nod and an inquiring warble.
"Hold a moment," I held out a hand and let the eager ratings push the draft paper through a hatch. "Now, I'm no architect, gentlemen, and neither are you, but would this be possible?"
The petty officer took one look at the sketch and swelled up as if to explode at me. But, as his unblinking eyes studied the page and darted towards the dead cruisers, something approaching excitement entered his warbling voice. The survey team leaders swiftly fractured along two lines: those gazing at the design with hungry expressions and those not so discreetly glaring at my midriff. Now, I didn't blame the latter group as my sketch did call for much less material than rebuilding the cruiser from the keel up in her current configuration, but I did reassure them.
"I want both of those cruisers rebuilt to that spec if possible, gentlemen," I waved towards the ocean behind us. "The Innies have plenty of good steel waiting to be claimed by prize crews; I'm not trying to get more to eat."
That prompted a complete breakdown of any faction lines as the entire group mingled and argued back and forth over the plan's feasibility. Then, finally, one vaguely mollusc looking chap raised a claw, burbled a question and waved to get my attention.
"The secondaries I lost to that torpedo regenerated after I consumed the... salvaged destroyers."
Huh, perhaps that's why I've been so hungry recently!
Thankfully, there was no jabs at my appetite this time but instead a furious round of discussion. Removing four of my QF MK XVI's to rearm the light cruisers had my chief engineer wailing in my metaphorical ear, but a claw over the head courtesy of my captain shut the sailor up. The barnacle-encrusted engineer snarled something about farm animals and mothers towards my CAG, but he was too busy cackling like a loon to be bothered by the insult. The Whirlwind crews were ecstatic about getting more flight time than I could provide, which nicely segued into the survey crew speaking up with their response to the plan.
It would require the sort of occult bullshit that allowed me to be far too manoeuvrable for my size (hey!). Still, it was technically feasible to turn the cruisers into an armed helicopter carrier/cruiser hybrid for supporting my marines. I didn't need or really want budget Mogamis for my fleet, but ships capable of providing my boarding forces with independent bases of operation certainly fit the theme I was building.
Seriously, I was performing a hell of a lot of boarding operations for an aviation battleship armed to the teeth with fine British weaponry.
Speaking of fine British weaponry... "Gentlemen, make room for some of my spare AA mounts as well; I don't trust those 25's further than I can throw them."
The one smartass who pointed out I'd be able to throw them really far got a cuff around the back of the head before the team rerolled the sketch and took it away. And, quite thankfully, neither my stomach nor tail protested when I ignored the tasty steel sitting in arms-reach in favour of snaking over to the water and slipping into the ocean's sweet embrace. As a result, I missed the trail of broken concrete I'd left behind and drifted off as my CAP circled as their replacements took to the air before touching down for some R&R.
Despite never having been a carrier before awakening as a Sea Naga, the screaming wail of my Wyvern's turboprop engines hit me with a massive deluge of nostalgia. I found my hand mimicking a plane's shape as I made nyoom noises and pretended that I was piloting one of the strike aircraft. The memory itself was fragmented and a confusing jumble, but it brought simpler and happier times to mind.
And I'd be a fool to look that gift-horse in the mouth.
Naga Bote Mom is hungry for steel, picks up a new friend through Marine memery and plans to commit more crimes against naval design and common sense.
Other than herself, of course, Repulse can't help being a big lady.
Coloured text is for when an Abyssal draws deep on their spoopy BS and it entered their voice.
Naga Bote causes more issues while being adorably dorky.
Music today comes from Hollywood Undead.
Pride filled my breast as my sharp gaze swept over the assembled sailors, marines and FAA personnel lining the small dock for a truly momentous occasion. Admittedly, they were but a fraction of my complement as enemy forces were within naval rifle range of our base, but they still outnumbered the crew of the captured destroyer. They were standing at attention on their ship's deck as the shark-dog-boat's tongue lolled from its toothy maw, the latter now sporting a Union Jack bandana around its vestigial neck. I was particularly proud of that one, having spent a great many trips hunting for the required cloth for my crew to dye and cut to specifications. But, the sharp tone of a Bosun's whistle had me slithering across the dock without cracking it to take my place behind a makeshift podium made of oil barrels and some driftwood. Unfortunately, my bosom ended up resting on the reading platform, but at least I was speaking from memory.
"Soldiers, sailors and aviators of the Empire," I began in a steady cadence. "These last weeks have been a trial for our bodies and spirits both, yet, on this great day, we can rest easy knowing that we are no longer alone in this great struggle!"
Surreptitiously keeping an arm across my bust, I grandly waved towards the Innie base visible in the distance.
My voice hardened. "The hated enemy, spawn of the deep and occultists most foul, may have warped our bodies, but our hearts burn with a righteous fury to see their crimes punished!" The crowd, not one among them human, unleashed a cry that started birds from the forest. I raised a hand for silence and smiled warmly. "We bear the torch of tradition passed down across the centuries from the likes of Hawke, Nelson and Jellicoe, men of honour and courage who protected Britain and her people in times past. We have a duty to them, and King George, to do the Navy proud across the Seven Seas... which is why today is a watershed moment for our little corner of the Empire."
The ship's band, hidden at the back until now, strode forward bearing a collection of seaweed and barnacle-covered instruments before launching into the opening bars of Heart of Oak. I gamely resisted the urge to burst into song (truly one of the significant burdens of command) and did my best to imitate half-remembered Admirals at prior commissioning ceremonies. The destroyer's crew turned towards the Union Jack flying over the dock and snapped amazingly precise salutes for beings who'd had no clue what that was a week ago. Then, as the final strains of the Navy's anthem faded away, I once again addressed the audience.
"During a nighttime raid to secure vital resources for the war effort, we discovered that our foes are not only occultists but slavers who hold their ships in bonds of servitude!" I let my tail-head vocalise my disgust with a growl before waving down the enraged sailors. "My brave marines, seeing the chains that bound a destroyer's crew, sought instead to liberate them and have spoken up for their inclusion to our force. Every man and woman in the Navy's service must liberate the enslaved wherever they shall be found, which is why we welcome HMS Shark and her crew to the Royal Navy!"
As cheers erupted across the dock and my hull, I mused at how difficult it had on agreeing on a name for the destroyer. But, on the slimmest of margins, thanks to my marines, HMS Shark won over Boat Dog as the adorable little monster's new designation. Sliding out from behind the podium, I carefully withdrew the only bottle of rum I had aboard from within my bosom and, in a break from tradition, lobbed the alcohol into the air. Shark unleashed a patriotic bark and leapt from the ocean to crush the rum between her metal teeth. Another cheer rang out as rum went everywhere before the destroyer landed and sent a small wave flowing over the crowd. Licking a few stray drops of alcohol off my cheek, I gestured towards the band and perked up as they launched into a stirring rendition of Rule, Britannia!
This time, I belted it out with all the patriotic fervour I'd been withholding!
Yet, as the song trailed off and my crew either returned to their posts or went off on some R&R, I found a fey melancholy gripping my boiler-heart. The joyous commissioning of Shark lacked the warmth I'd expected to feel, but I still put on a brave face for the little destroyer as her crew took her into the bay for their very first patrol. The little bundle of flesh and steel barked happily before speeding off, leaving me at the dockside in the grips of a dark fugue. Perhaps sensing my mood, my Captain ordered the CAG to deploy a flight of Sea Furies to keep Shark company as I sluggishly made my way towards the island's sole beach of note. The gentle lapping of the waves and the sensation of sand beneath my tail provided a measure of protection from the melancholy, but it returned in force when I found a rock to lean against.
The ocean called to me, a siren song one of loss and dull vengeance against a foe I couldn't name, bringing to mind the idea of enormous war drums in the deep calling me to war. I found myself getting lost in the echoing beat, wondering if perhaps the sound had brought about the soul-deep sadness weighing me down from my arms to my expansive tail. But, when I began rising to search for the drumbeat, I abruptly felt the majority of my bridge crew departing until only my Captain remained at his post. The change jarred me out of the entranced funk as I checked and wondered why he'd dismissed the first watch when the second wasn't due to replace them for another couple of hours. I watched with some concern as my Captain rubbed the arm of his chair before standing and vanishing from my sight.
He reappeared on the sand beside me, not as the miniature form he'd assumed once before, but as a full-sized amalgam of flesh and steel that would stand a good head taller than any human.
My Captain was by far the most human in the general form, if not appearance, among all of my crew. Glistening muscle stretched and bunched between the joints of the coal-black armour covering his body, the glistening occult steel as surely bound to his flesh as my own tail's armour was. A wet, gurgling rasp that my mind translated as a chuckle emerged from the hissing respirator inset on the officer's fey blend of a diving helmet and knight's helm, empty red lenses staring at me before my Captain sat down at my side. Not at all worried by his appearance, I managed a tiny smile as his towering form still only came to the level of my bosom and no higher. But, alas, the humour I felt died as the officer gazed out towards the sea and chittered a question.
Abrupt, molten rage gripped me as I questioned why my Captain couldn't speak like a man and was forced to chitter like some kind of spawn from the deep! Curiously, the fire in my breast spread as the injustice of what had been done to my crew truly reared its rotten head for my full attention, and I found myself hating the aberration and all it stood for. My Captain raised his voice, but the building whine of my racing boilers drowned him out as I wished for the officer to be able to communicate as a proud officer of the Navy should!
The burning pressure in my breast thrummed like a live cable before it snapped, leaving behind a curious sense of amusement. But, shaking my head to clear the odd feelings, I distantly received reports from my scouts of storm clouds on the horizon before a gurgling cough drew me back to reality. Panic seized me as I stretched my arms towards my Captain, bent over double coughing, and brought him into my embrace. The impropriety of the act given my state of undress never entered my mind as I held the shuddering officer to my bosom and prayed that he hadn't taken ill.
Eventually, my Captain's hacking trailed off, and I felt his attention turn to the soft cushion his helm was resting against. Blushing up a storm, I hastily released him and glanced away lest he thought me some sort of wanton harlot that would abuse his moment of weakness for an inappropriate hug. Then, without warning, I felt his clawed hand land on my arm, gently squeeze it before he spoke...
In English!
"T-Thank you, Repulse," he gurgled in nigh unintelligible English before coughing into a taloned fist. "For... For granting me my voice."
I dared to turn around and gaze into my Captain's blank crimson lenses and search for any sign of a trick or sorcery most foul. Yet, even as I wondered, I knew that something fundamental had changed within the officer in the core of my very being, something I had done. The ethereal sense that allowed me knowledge of my entire crew viewed my Captain as a brilliant flame amidst the candles and small fires of the rest of my compliment.
"I don't know what I did, Captain," I eventually managed. "But I am... oh so happy to hear you speak."
Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes while a sudden outpouring of cloying joy threatened to shatter my already paper-thin composure. Finally, the breakdown ground to a halt as my Captain laid a hand on my arm and gave the impression of a smile.
"Not as happy as I am to praise you for your hard work since our awakening, Repulse." There was no mistaking the emotions choking his voice.
"Oh, Captain!" I cried, figuratively and literally, as I embraced him and burst into joyful tears.
Loneliness and isolation I hadn't even recognised vanished like the fog as the sun rose when I felt him carefully return the embrace and begin stroking my hair. All of my shattered memories agreed that this was my commanding officer returned to me, no longer an empty shade existing on shadows of the man he'd been. Thankfully, my Captain made no mention of the veritable flood pouring over his oily armour or how unbecoming our hug was, merely squeezing me ever so often as a reminder of his support. Words failed me as a hole in my soul filled with the steady bastion of my Captain's warm presence.
"I remember," he whispered, wetly gasping beside my ear. "I remember losing you, Repulse, and feeling like part of me had died."
Such was the power of his words that it drove me to respond. "All I can recall is pain... pain and the roar of aircraft," the agonising memories were softened by my Captain's embrace. "I'm sorry for f-forgetting you..."
"Don't be," he ordered. "I wasn't even aware, not truly until you shattered the infernal hold on my soul and freed me." Here, he placed a talon beneath my chin and lifted my head until I met his glowing lenses. "We are bound, all of us crew, to you in a symbiosis of our beings."
"Part of the ship, part of the crew," I absently murmured.
The officer chuckled. "Quite so, my Dear, perhaps moreso than either of us can imagine."
Then, suppressing the urge to bury my head in the crook of his neck, I curiously asked a question burning a hole in my mind.
"Captain, how much do you remember after?"
"After what, Repulse?" he asked.
"Of..." I struggled to speak of the event. "Of my sinking."
My Captain hummed in that wet, gurgling way of his and looked towards the ocean without responding. But, while the growing silence ate away at the hope in my breast, I trusted him to speak when he felt he had the correct answer for me. The idea of his ever not trusting me never entered my mind, nor would it as he idly ran a claw through my hair.
"Shattered glimpses," he honestly responded. "Fragments of a life that doesn't feel real, yet I remember that I failed in my duty to you that day."
Now it was my turn to touch his arm. "You didn't fail, Captain! I failed to protect my crew from whatever..." I powered through for his sake. "Whatever sank me."
Curiously, he chuckled. "Look at us, Repulse, both too stubborn to admit the other dared to be less than perfect in an impossible situation." Warm human eyes gazed at me through the helm for a split second before the lenses returned. "Yet these occultists made a grave mistake bringing you back, Repulse."
"How so?"
"Now that you've failed once, I know you'll refuse to back down until you uphold the honour of yourself and the Navy."
The sheer certainty in her voice threatened to make me cry again. "I am a ship of His Majesty, Captain, that I will never discard no matter the form I take."
"And what a striking form that is..." My Captain's words died as I felt a twinge within my core. "Duty calls, my Dear."
I understood there and then that it would be a long while before the officer could speak with me in this manner, yet my heart still yearned to keep him close. One ferocious killing claw carefully brushed a lock of hair away and tucked it behind my ear, carrying a message that needn't be spoken to be understood. So, drawing myself till my full height, I met my Captain's gaze and snapped a parade ground perfect salute.
As he'd said, we were bound together, just as every member of my crew was in a manner beyond comprehension. So even as his form wavered and vanished before reappearing within my bridge, I withheld my tears and received a proud nod from the officer before I pushed off the rock and slithered up the beach. The short talk had revitalised my spirits and left a metaphorical bounce in my step (something my bosom would protest if I actually performed) as I summoned my CAG to the bridge.
The vicious little bastard started cackling once I explained and kept laughing all the way to the hangars to scare up a couple of flights for some bombing practice.
Someone had to pay for the torture my Captain endured, and there was a great many acceptable targets within range.
The junior Light Cruiser Princess fumed as she glared at the smoking ruin that was all that remained of her southwestern fortifications. The shoreline bunkers and anti-aircraft emplacements had been shattered like so many dropped eggs in the former's case and blackened craters for the latter. The loss infuriated her, for she knew exactly where the attack had originated, and the only evidence of the attackers was a single crashed aircraft with its nose buried in the sand.
It didn't help that she'd been close enough when the attack began to witness it all and be powerless to prevent it.
"Sweep the approach for traps," she ordered her attending cruisers.
The mass-produced shells barely withstood their Princess' fury and sailed towards the beach at their maximum speed lest they incur her wroth. The Royal Abyssal allowed herself a moment of delight at her subordinates' obedience before she impatiently waited for the fools to ether stumble over hidden explosives or, preferably, nothing at all. However, it wasn't long before the cruisers landed on the sand and gave the all-clear, allowing the Princess to imperiously stride from the waves and march towards the wrecked aircraft that had taken part in the raid.
Her first thought upon approaching the plane was its sheer size compared to the Vals her small airfield utilised as bombers. Then, ducking under a fire-blackened wing, she took note of the cannon muzzles present and mentally tallied them as around the 20mm mark. The design was unknown to the Princess, but she didn't need to be a genius to see the air brakes and arrester hooks and recognise it as a carrier-borne strike aircraft. Unfortunately, that meant the newcomer to her north possessed two aircraft variants capable of carrying bombs while being too fast to catch.
"That's a Westland Wyvern of the Fleet Air Arm, your Highness," a sibilant voice whispered in her ear.
Unfortunately inoculated to the behaviour, the Princess glared at the Ka-class that served as Singapore Harbour Princess' representative to her islands. Dead, expressionless eyes the colour of arctic ice stared through a veil of slick raven hair that framed a gaunt, feminine face. The submarine said nothing, as was their annoying habit, forcing the Princess to demand an explanation.
"A what?"
The Ka's respirator hissed. "A Westland Wyvern, your Majesty. This is a craft beyond either the Abyss' or the hated Kanmusu's scope for summoning..."
"Except a flight of the thrice-cursed things bombarded my island," the Princess screamed. "How do you explain that, oh wise representative of the Jewel of Malaya?"
If she hadn't seen the submarine show any expression other than a dead stare for two years, the Abyssal Royal could have sworn they glared at her. But, chalking that up to a trick of the light, she gnashed her teeth in frustration and drew several heaving breaths. Then, only once she calmed down did the Light Cruiser release her grip on her powers.
"I swore loyalty to Singapore in exchange for her protection from threats I can't handle. I've already lost an island, nine destroyers and two light cruisers to that menace," the Princess flashed a grim smile at the Ka. "I order you to return to your mistress and request aid on my behalf."
"As you wish, your Majesty," the submarine raised one wetsuit-clad arm and waved towards the Wyvern. "May I study the plane after you depart?"
"Just make sure you're on your way before nightfall!"
Choosing not to wait for the lurker's response, the junior Light Cruiser Princess pivoted on a heel and strode towards the ocean surrounded by her attendant cruisers. The submarine watched the modest fleet swiftly depart in the direction of their homeport before she slipped down her wetsuit's front and withdrew a small card. Clambering onto the crashed strike aircraft, the Ka leaned into the cockpit and tucked the card behind the reflector gunsight before jumping off. Finally, throwing a toxic glare at the departing Princess, she pulled her goggles over her eyes and dived into the waves and swiftly vanished.
A full hour passed on the cratered island before a crustacean head popped out of the sand, not a stone's throw from the Wyvern. The FAA pilot eyed the empty locale with wary eye stalks before emerging from his hiding place and approaching his downed plane. He'd felt the odd Innie approach the craft and soon discovered the card behind the gunsight. Confusion turned to alarm as he read the short note on the reverse side and cursed having to wait for nightfall to get rescued.
So it was that a Westland Whirlwind recovered the stranded pilot after nightfall and ferried him straight back to Repulse. The aviation battleship cocked her head as she accepted the card, only to freeze once she read it and pensively glanced towards the west. Then, summoning the Major in charge of her marines, she began firing off instructions.
"We've got a visitor inbound before the week's out, Major, and I need your men dug in like limpets in case things turn hostile." Repulse pursed her lips and sighed. "You have my permission to requisition RP-3 rockets for launchers from the FAA crews."
The miniature Gremlin started happily chittering, only for the capital ship to bonk him on the head with a finger.
"No liberating thousand-pound bombs for landmines! Is that understood, Major?"
The marine's quick response was far too cheerful for Repulse's peace of mind.
Repulse prepares for a visitor and she has a nice chat with her Captain who platonically strokes her hair.
Singapore Harbour Princess understood one critical fact that so many of her Installation sisters failed to comprehend.
A true Harbour Princess was nothing more than an imposter if she wasn't a nexus of trade as well as military activity.
But, unfortunately, too many of her sisters fell into the trap of genociding the humans present and thinking of themselves as some kind of extraordinary genius for doing so. And then they bitched and whined among themselves when they discovered their relevance subsequently cratered and left them bereft of power. But, for Singapore, she had awoken during Blood Week when the Abyss struck against Humanity and the ravaging and slaughter that had occurred brought to mind the Japanese invasion during the War.
So, when the Singaporean survivors had emerged from the rubble to discover their home had become an Abyssal Installation, Singapore had protected them as her own. It hadn't been an easy relationship, especially not at the beginning. Still, five years of safety in a world where being on the coast put you at risk of daily Abyssal attacks did wonders to belligerent attitudes.
Leaning on the balcony railing, the Princess contentedly gazed at the busting city and harbour that was her domain in its entirety. Significant scars remained from the devastation of Blood Week, but her people had recovered ably given the understandable changes that had been wrought to their home. Singapore's expression was that of a proud mother as she watched the mixture of human and Abyssal cargo ships that made her a Harbour Princess arrive and depart from distant lands. The military defences and patrolling warships were purely Abyssal, though, for the simple reason that her more genocidal siblings would raze her to the ground if they thought she'd fallen in with the Kanmusu.
"Milady, Jia-Xin is waiting for you in your chambers."
Singapore pushed off the railing and favoured her personal assistant with a nod. "Thank you, Yannik; you make take the rest of the day off."
The mousy-haired young man beamed. "Many thanks, Milady!"
She watched her closest human adviser depart with an amused smile before turning her back on the city and reentering her seat of governance. Erected as a replacement for the governmental buildings flattened before her awakening, Singapore exchanged brief greetings with her subordinates as she passed them in the corridors, but Jia-Xin's unexpected arrival drove her to dispense with her standard mingling and head straight towards her chambers. The golems outside saluted with their arm-mounted Oerlikon autocannons and opened the doors for Singapore to sweep through before shutting them behind her.
The Ka-class, with their feet up on her desk, languidly waved but didn't stop drinking from the flask until she'd sat down and then tucked it down the front of their swimsuit. The lack of decorum and respect might have enraged a simpler Princess, but she merely snorted and waited for Jia-Xin to give her report.
"Good news first, I know what the ritualists were trying to do over on Uwi," the submarine hissed through her respirator.
Singapore frowned. "And the bad news?"
The Ka retrieved her flask. "Drinks first, Sing," she stressed and waited for the Princess to take a sip. "Trust me, milady, you'll need it."
"I still haven't gotten an answer, Jia."
"I'm getting to that," the submarine held her hands up placatingly. "I've been trying to get myself drunk since I saw the Re-class Hime with her fat aft parked up on the beach."
The Harbour Princess' jaw dropped open as the news hit, glanced down at the half-empty flask and drained the contents in one desperate gulp. But, alas, not even the Abyssal concoction managed to repair her composure, though it did let her absorb the information without destroying her already frayed countenance.
"Who would be stupid enough to... No," Singapore shook her head to dismiss that line of thought. "Details first, then we can worry about which of my siblings thought making a Hime of a Re was in any way intelligent."
Jia-Xin gazed forlornly at her empty flask before retrieving another. "I couldn't exactly get close due to enjoying being alive, but the newcomer's over one hundred and fifty thousand tons, easily. Call it twelve hundred feet from bow to stern and covered in far more armour than even a standard Re..."
The Princess pursed her lips. "Of course, she is, because someone with more power than sense decided they wanted a supercapital aviation battleship."
"Fantastic fuel bunkers on her, though..." the Ka awkwardly trailed off as her superior glared down at her. "I doubt she can travel far given her displacement and beam, but it's still a really nice chest."
Sometimes, Singapore regretted bringing what had to be the most voyeuristic submarine in the Deep into her confidence. Still, Jia-Xin's observational abilities were second to none in the East Indies, and, the Princess noted with a hidden smirk, she was a fantastic source of high-quality alchemical beers from Shanghai's brewery.
"Fantasising over a Re's bunkers aside," she drawled, drawing a blush from her companion. "What threat level would you consider the newcomer?"
The dead look Jia sent her had shivers running down the Princess's keel.
"Superfiring triple turrets in an A-B arrangement on her bow," she began without preamble. "Either fifteens or sixteens, though given the rest of her, I'm inclined towards the former. What looked like DP four-inch secondaries in twin turrets, slots for nine a side, but the Hime was missing a couple near her stern."
"Battle damage?" Singapore interrupted.
The Ka shook her head and took a shot from her flask. "Way too clean, looked like a deliberate removal to me, but Deep knows why." She stuck a hand down her swimsuit and pulled out a bundle of photographs. "Took those and had them developed once I hit the docks."
The Abyssal Royal snatched up the pictures of the topmost craft and immediately frowned. "These aren't Abyysal aircraft."
"Nope, which is where things get interesting for the newcomer," Jia leaned across the desk and began spreading the photographs. "Westland Wyvern, Hawker Sea Fury and Westland Whirlwind, all in Fleet Air Arm configuration and markings, which makes sense given the Re Hime is a British ship."
"That's impossible!" Singapore snapped. "A Royal Navy themed Aviation Battleship I can accept, but only the Kanmusu retain their old loyalties."
Her subordinate tossed a bundle of radio intercepts onto the table in response. "Tell that to the name linking all of these together; Sing, it's all in the old Royal Navy cypher too."
Facilities and defences across the city and harbour briefly ground to a halt at their mistress blankly stared at the impossibility before her eyes. It shouldn't be possible, yet, unless Jia-Xin was lying to her (itself an impossibility), then the Princess had to accept the news at face value. Eighty-two years' distance had no effect on her memories of a Royal Navy taskforce departing her harbour to halt the Japanese invasion and returning bereft their capital ships. The Deep called to her, encouraging feelings of hate and scorn for the vessels that had failed their duty and left her open to plundering... but seeing a member of Force Z returned as a sister of the Abyss encouraged another emotion entirely.
"You're certain the Re Hime is Repulse?" She softly questioned her worried subordinate and friend. "This isn't a trick on behalf of the fools who created her?"
The submarine scoffed. "She's planted a fucking Union Jack on the peak of the island; no way in the Deep would the others stand for that." Then, breaking her habit of no touching, Jia squeezed Singapore's hand. "Best guess I've got is that someone massively fucked up the summoning ritual and drew in more of Repulse than they intended. Course, I'm no mind reader, but that's my take on the whole thing."
"That's not all, is it?" Something in the Ka's posture set off alarm bells. "Please don't tell me..."
"Your vassal in the archipelago sent me back for reinforcements to crush the new Princess?" Jia nodded. "Idiot doesn't even know she's picked a fight with a Re Hime, let alone a supercapital version."
Groaning in disgust, Singapore faceplanted on her desk, ignoring squishing her bust against the hard edge in favour of mentally cursing the Abyss' habit of recovering complete and utter fools.
"I take it back, the Princess' that tried to blend Repulse with a Re Hime aren't the biggest fools in the East Indies; one of my Vassals is!"
"It's a good thing I left a calling card for one of Repulse's downed pilots to find," her companion smoothly remarked. "I said you'd be sending along an envoy to chat in a week's time."
Singapore peered at the Ka through a curtain of raven hair and smiled. "You always know how to cheer a lady up, Jia."
"The alcohol helps."
"That too," the sub offered another flask and pulled off her respirator. "How about we keep drinking till the world makes sense?"
The Princess giggled. "You'll run out of alcohol first," she still accepted the flask, though, and raised it in a salute. "Here's to a new power in the East Indies and the opportunities she brings."
"One with an amazing set of fuel bunkers and an aft you could bounce a sixteen-inch shell off!"
"Jia-Xin! Stop being lecherous!"
Laugher filtered out through the office's doors, but the golem hybrids merely shared an unblinking look and rumbled in something approaching amusement. Any day their liege lady was in a good mood was enjoyable in their minds.
I stared at the identical twins resting in the dry dock side by side.
Two pairs of bright yellow eyes precisely like mine followed my gaze as I wriggled back and forth on the dockside. Ebony hair similar to my locks flowed down their backs and provided a fringe that did nothing to conceal the familiar blue shade of their skin. And, if that wasn't enough of a giveaway, the teenage cruisers had paired 4" QF MK XVI turrets on the armoured waist where their tail armour met their bodysuits. The flight deck and generous selection of AA emplacements weren't nearly as eye-catching, but those were very much just as important to the twins. My only consolation at seeing younger versions of myself was that the girls had proper clothes and a reasonable figure for their apparent ages.
I glared at the engineering crew on my palm. "How did this happen?"
The petty officer in charge gave me a look that spelt out, 'we converted bloody light cruisers into helicopter carriers from the keel up, and you're asking me that?' Then, as if that wasn't enough chastisement, he gestured towards the watching helicopter carriers and started chittering.
The apparent pride among the team had me reluctantly nodding along as he explained that because I was the only correctly built ship they had plans for, the team used me as the basis for the rebuild. The girls' displacement was a 'mere' six thousand tons thanks to removing the heavy eight-inch guns and torpedos, giving them better freeboard, stability and making room for three Whirlwinds and two platoons of marines. The former cruiser's silence on the matter was of some concern, but their expressions were too openly attentive to chalk it down as shyness on their parts.
I held up a hand to silence the petty officer and moved towards the girls. Up close, their resemblance to me wasn't quite identical, though the familial resemblance was also unmistakable. As I approached, the twins straightened up, attempting to stand at attention but floundering as I drew them into a hug. My daughters, for that's what they were, spluttered in embarrassment and blushed up a storm as I released them and fought back proud tears.
"What are your names?" I asked.
The left-hand twin raised a hand. "I'm Python, Mum."
"And I'm Boa," her sister finished. "And we're..." here, both chorused as one.
"Serpent-class Marine Support Ships of the Royal Navy!"
Their synchronised adorableness was too much for me to bear, and I wrapped them in a crushing hug which neither twin protested nearly as much if their muffled speech was any indication. My entire being was delighted to not only have new fleet members but ones that took after me in such a decisive manner. And, as I ran my hands through their beautiful heads of hair, intrepid Gremlins were flowing through the hatches to check out their new support ships. The little buggers had a poke around that made the twins giggle into my bosom before a Lieutenant appeared on Python's shoulder and proudly declared the girls to be 'bloody great ships' and an apology to them for his language.
Releasing my daughters, I saluted the marines who'd appeared on their decks. "Permission to leave my marine compliment granted, Lieutenants," I briefly choked up as I felt the Gremlin's sparks vanish from my senses. "I want no chicanery or tomfoolery until after their working up is completed, understood?"
The responses were immediate and borderline panicked, prompting a cackle from the FAA Whirlwinds I retrieved off my deck. I gave the chittering pilots a flat look and carefully transferred three of each to my daughters and felt my stomachs rumble as the replacements began summoning. The junior officers I lent to fill out the defected prisoner's command ranks left a hole that I knew wouldn't last overlong. I'd liberated enough enslaved crews from the Innies to have replacement officers and marines already being put through their paces. At the same time, promising members of my compliment were promoted to fill the gaps.
"Can we try some gunnery practise, Mum?" Boa pleaded with soulful eyes.
Her twin copied the gesture. "Oh, yes, please! Can we?"
"Go ahead," I waved, and the dry dock's locks opened a path to the ocean. "Don't rush..."
I trailed off with a rueful smile as the pair immediately went to flank speed and sped out into the bay with an infectious level of enthusiasm. Wry amusement from my Captain rang out as he expertly coordinated with my daughter's captains to guide the laughing pair towards the north side of the island where the forest needed clearing for bunkers. I followed at a far more sedate pace, feeling my displacement more than ever now that I struggled to reach 25 knots, let alone the girl's 34. Yet, despite the sheer contrast between us, I was proud of what that speed represented now that I had much smaller ships to safeguard and protect.
I'm the spear and shield of our little corner of the Empire, and I'd be remiss in moping over my displacement when looking after my daughters were of much greater importance.
Pride filled my breast as I hung back from the coast and watched as the twin's gunnery crews went about their live-fire exercise with boundless energy and not much precision. While 4" shells weren't the largest out there, not by a long shot, four turrets launching eight HE projectiles at fifteen rounds a minute soon turned a solid chunk of the mountainside to a hellscape right out of the Great War. The good cheer and beaming smiles on Python and Boa's faces as they twirled in place stood in start contrast to the destruction they'd wrought, yet I wouldn't expect anything else from my girls.
Alas, duty called, and I answered as my honour demanded.
"How are we looking at emplacing the recovered naval rifles on the east side of the island," I murmured to my Captain.
He accepted an offered clipboard from an Ensign. "We've got dugouts for the four-inch cannon set up; it's just a matter of dropping them into position now."
"And the eight-inch turrets from the twins overlooking the port?"
"Not enough heavy machinery for that, unfortunately," my Captain sighed through his mask. "Pretty much all of our defence issues stem back to a lack of construction equipment beyond what we captured here."
And the reason for our buildup lay far to the west beyond the horizon, towards a city and port I had mixed feelings about. On the one hand, this Singapore Harbour Princess was obviously an Innie of some stripe given the ethereal 'imprint' I felt from the message card. Yet, on the other hand, she opened a dialogue rather than attack as my current neighbour had. And, being truthful to myself and my Captain, I remembered enough of my last port of call to retain a fondness for the idea of visiting.
"I know what you're thinking, Repulse, and remember what we discussed." My Captain warned softly so only I could hear.
I nodded. "Trust but verify, Captain; I haven't forgotten... though her representative won't get far if they try anything funny."
"That's my Repulse!"
Responding with a soft wave of joy, I settled back on my tail and let observing my daughters distract me from the first gurglings of hunger from my thick middle. Resupply was already proving an issue, and my reserves weren't nearly as topped off as my quartermaster would like, yet there wasn't much I could do beyond eating scavenged wrecks. I mulled over the possibility of getting supplies from this Singapore Resupply Princess if she proved amenable to trade, but that circled back to the question of what had I to offer in exchange?
Military force was right out; my honour as a ship of the Navy shut that idea down hard.
But, while I wouldn't hire myself out as some manner of a privateer, surely this Princess had rivals among the Innies that she'd be happy to see raided. And, as I suggested the idea to my Captain, mayhaps I'd be free to liberate anything not nailed down enough to stop a squad of drunken Squaddies. Of course, I wasn't happy about it, but the combination of a jolly good fight and a free-for-all buffet afterwards was perhaps a tad too eagerly accepted by my crew for my liking.
But, after I stopped worrying about being a glutinous brawler of a flagship, opening my arms to accept my daughter's hugs as they returned did wonder for my mood. So I squeezed them close, deliberately ignored their muffled protests and simply luxuriated in having a fleet... which was when Shark popped out of the water and wriggled between the twins to much laughter on all our parts.
"I think I've decided on a name for our little fleet," I addressed the smaller vessels in my flagship voice.
They were still kept pressed against my chest, though, decorum be damned when it came to family. My bridge crew's muffled laughter served as an excellent counterpoint to the twin's protests before the latter gradually faded.
"My last formation was called Force Z, so I figured that we can be the Zulu Fleet until we regain contact with the Admiralty and get assigned to a formation."
To nobody's surprise, there were no complaints against the name, not even from my Captain, who radiated a curious blend of joy and melancholy. So it was the message was sent from my radio room to the port and the patrolling planes that I was now Flagship of the Royal Navy's Zulu Fleet, HMS Repulse!
The world felt like a much brighter place afterwards.
Python and Boa may be small for cruisers, but they're full of fire and rearing to take after their mom bote in all manners related to boarding parties.
Meanwhile, Singapore Harbour Princess is driven to happy drinking by the impending removal of an idiot vassal and the prospect of meeting an old acquaintance from the War.
"Alright, this is where the Whirlwind saw the heavy cruiser sink."
I stared at the blank patch of ocean as my sonar operators began pinging. "And the crew definitely saw it go down like a steel hull?"
"Bow up and sank like a rock, yes," my Captain confirmed to my delight.
One of the strangest things about the Innie's warships was that they'd occasionally cease dancing the line between ship and woman when sinking and go to the bottom as a full-sized hull. My current trip out into the free-for-all zone between Uwi Island and the Innie's strongholds was searching for one such exception for its tasty steel! My Captain coughed into his fist, prompting a blush as I put my insatiable appetite aside for a minute and prepared to dive beneath the waves.
Sonar contact found!
Hatches across my hull battened down to stop anyone from being sucked out by pressure differential before I flicked my tail and dove. The mid-day sun cast the ocean in a diffuse light as I laid eyes on the Innie cruiser, bared my fangs and made a bee-line for the sunken warship. Immediately, the gaping wound along the machinery spaces that had killed it came into view, shorn metal and wrecked boilers marking the torpedo's impact strike. But, and this was the critical part, the only other damage was the caved-in-mess of the bridge resulting from an RP-3 salvo. Everything else on the 8500-ton cruiser was intact, which meant a veritable buffet to offer the arriving diplomat.
And, with a guilty look past my bosom, perhaps a bit to top off my stores.
Singling out the Wyvern pilot who'd sunk the Innie, I thanked the little snail guy for his piloting skill and left him beaming from ear-hole to ear-hole. Then, as the pilot's buddies carried him away in celebration, I wriggled closer to the wreck and began mapping anchor points alongside the bridge crew.
"Two between the B turret and the superstructure and another pair aft of the smokestack," my Captain recommended with his keen eye to detail. "And... two between X and Y turrets just to be sure the load-bearing doesn't snap her keel."
Reaching the steel hull, I lightly tapped around the ragged hole, letting my more esoteric senses out to play while my crew did their jobs. Like I'd suspected, the wreck was dead materially as well as whatever the Innies used to raise their slave-ships which let me avoid worrying about rescuing any trapped crew. I'd do it in a heartbeat, mind you, but this meant they'd all managed to abandon ship before it went down.
The Innies might be my enemies, but I didn't hate the rank and file for what their mistress' did.
"Alright, boys," I called as I held out an arm towards the wreck. "Time to earn your pay."
Good-naturing grumbling about 'what pay?' came from the engineering crew as they emerged with miniature welding kits and attachment points. Smiling, I waited nearby as they went to work in defiance of the logic that dictated that welders like the ones they carried couldn't operate underwater. Nobody told that to the Innies, though, and I made use of their equipment with much ironic glee at my foes' misfortune. So, being a hands-off sort of flagship, I watched as the team steadily worked their way across the hull with occasional trips back for spare tanks and extra attachment lugs. Finally, with a diving sign ok from the lead engineer, they swapped places with a Gremlin section bearing spare anchor chains.
Miniaturised chains, of course, my marines are good, but they weren't that strong!
That point was moot when the last lug was secured, and the other end of the chain was attached to a towing point on my stern. The metal links magically expanded to full size as the last of my crew returned aboard before I gave the line an experimental tug with a fraction of my SHP. Silt billowed into roiling clouds dispersed by the tides as the wreck groaned and shifted.
"No sign of fractures from the torpedo site," my Captain mused before casting a claw forwards dramatically. "Ahead one-quarter!"
"Showoff," I snarked but did as asked.
The chain thrummed like a live cable, briefly worrying me about it snapping before the sunken heavy cruiser popped free of the silt bed and gradually came to hang beneath my ascending form. The first time we'd tried this stunt, the chain had snapped and folded the light cruiser we'd scavenged in two, but I grinned as I pulled this wreck behind me at the stately pace of seven knots. Any more and, well, let's just say that getting rear-ended by a ship a twentieth of your displacement still leaves a mark, and that's all I'll say on the matter.
And, on a happier note, my Captain's awakening meant I wasn't alone with my thoughts nearly as much.
"Did the scouting flight ever regain contact with that fleet coming from the west?" I asked quietly.
My Captain glanced up at the bridge's ceiling. "No, the squall that rolled in when they laid eyes on the formation broke the line of sight." He wetly chuckled under his breath. "There was nothing natural about that storm, especially ones that form at bloody midday out of thin air."
I mulled it over as I stately cruised towards our home port, checking the wreck every so often with as many eyes as possible to ensure nothing had fractured from the stress of towing. Yet, as I finished another sweep, the CAG emerged from under a soggy pile of reports in his office with a triumphant screech and showed me the page.
"First, you badly need to clean up your paperwork, Commander," I chided to a derisive snort from the tiny pilot. "Second, how long did that anomalous storm last?"
He shook the paper angrily as if expecting me to understand the unintelligible squiggles. But, eventually, he caved, went outside his office to grab an unwilling middie, and shoved the offending report into their tentacles with orders to take it to the bridge. I carefully didn't smile at the byplay as the junior officer ran off before pulling my attention away from my hull.
The panting middie arrived five minutes later, and my Captain read it out for my benefit. "Just under a minute... when you'd gotten angry and granted me my voice."
"What do you think it means?" I worriedly asked, chewing my lip.
"Something worrying or something interesting," was the cryptic response.
I glanced around the ocean with an eye for lurking Innies, suspecting them of some sort of foul sorcery as they loved performing. A light tap on the bridge windows drew my attention to my Captain, who was pointedly not giving me a stern look through his helm.
"We can look into it back at port, Repulse," he gently chided. "Let's get this wreck back for scrapping first."
Whoever said that food was the way to a man's heart clearly hadn't heard of Sea Naga aviation battleships because the mention of food immediately drew my thoughts to a far nicer tack. I faux-glared at the cheerful officer for picking such a blatant distraction, but eventually, I smiled as his reasoning became clear. Pride and joy struck me as I studied my Captain in all his wisdom and skill at commanding warships, no matter his current state of being. Here was a man who'd never treat me poorly or abandon me, and I would follow him to the gates of hell if he but asked... a fact I knew he understood.
I mimed a salute. "Aye, Aye, Captain!"
In the end, it took just under an hour to arrive back at the port, which included a five-minute pause when my sonar team thought they picked up a contact. But, other than that brief excitement, the journey was uneventful as I guided the wrecked heavy cruiser into the dock where it was shallow enough to beach without rolling. So, while I displaced far too much to use the facilities, I used the surfacing to catch up on any missed reports over the radio.
Curiously, I couldn't utilise the sets while underwater despite being able to submerge as an aviation battleship and not a submarine.
A few reports of Innie scouting elements along the abnormal storm's path served as a general idea of where the Innie fleet was, another regarding salvaging from the island my aircraft had struck a week past and...
"Muuuummm!"
I perked up as Boa's petulant whine came from the channel I'd dedicated to the twins.
"What is it, Honey?"
Familiar chittering heralded Python's entrance to the conversation. "We found a submarine, but Brenny won't let us board it! Tell him our marines need the experience!"
"Mine need experience too!" Boa cried.
I looked to my Captain for support for dealing with two petulant teenage Marine Support Ships, but he ducked his head as his shoulders shook with restrained laughter. Not in the least amused by his behaviour or being left out to dry, I sighed and wondered how the twins had stumbled across a submarine when they were supposed to be out practising rescue operations.
"Put Brenny on, please," I ordered and waited till I heard the Gremlin grumbling on the far end. "What's happening, Sergeant?"
The scarily effective Bren gunner (who I suspect was from the Commando branch) laid out in erudite fashion a sequence of events that boggled the mind... but was right down his alley. So, I accepted the marine's report at face value for my sins and got my Captain's attention.
"What's the protocol for when one of your daughters talks about eating a diplomat in the diplomat's face?"
The officer bent over double wheezing through his respirator before erupting into howling laughter that set off the rest of the bridge crew. Despite knowing they couldn't see it, I glared at the amused first watch and pouted.
"I'm serious, gentlemen! This isn't a laughing matter; Python really did say that!"
My Captain slapped his armoured knee. "Like mother like daughter, Repulse!"
Sometime earlier:
Jia Xin stared up at the Ta-class fast battleship's face. "You understand your orders?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" The flagship snapped a perfect salute. "Cast a masking spell upon being supported by the Re Hime's aircraft and proceed at full speed to Pelau Tembelan Besar!"
"And once you arrive?"
Here, the battleship lowered her voice till only the senior Abyssals could hear. "Reiterate to the Light Cruiser Princess that my formation is for deterrence and defensive operations only and that I am under Singapore's command, not hers."
The submarine grinned and slapped the capital ship on the shoulder. Jia Xin did not need to continue interrogating the battleship, not when the other Aybssal was her Lady's subordinate so she could think for herself. Waving goodbye to the curt Ta, she glanced over the sizeable force Singapore was deploying as a 'supposed' reinforcement fleet. A Wo-class for carrier operations, a quartet of Tsu-class for screening duty and combat and a baker's dozen of Ni-class destroyers as escort.
It wasn't much by the Pacific front's standards, but for the fractured micro-kingdoms of the East Indies, it was a sizeable fleet with balanced striking power. Jia slipped her respirator on and opened her ballast tanks to descend under the waves on her own mission. Singapore had made it abundantly clear that she was to avoid provoking hostilities with Repulse at all costs, hence why she was authorised to offer the Light Cruiser Princess as a sacrifice if the Re Hime was out for blood.
And, while Jia Xin thought sending the reinforcement fleet anyway was a bad idea, she wasn't going to say no to nearby friendly ships if things went south. Grimly smirking behind her respirator, the submarine amended that to 'reinforcements that would be too far away to do anything' and let that dark prospect die in a corner. So, with her batteries fully charged and running dark, she split off from the fast battleship's force and made for Uwi Island.
Nothing occurred for a solid chunk of time as she kept track of the hours passing by on her fancy diving watch. By far the greatest thing the humans ever produced, the multifunction device was the main reason Jia liked the squishy people, well, that and their fantastic alcohols. A glance revealed a steady pace of six knots, a depth of half her operational limit and a cheerful reminder about oxygen levels that she ignored. The Ka was in no need to surface and replenish her air tanks, nor would she in case the Light Cruiser Princess had scouts around and spotted her and started asking awkward questions.
Singapore would cut her off from booze if she fucked up that badly.
Jia never knew if her shudder at the prospect of losing her precious alcohol or simple luck caused her detection, but it happened all the same. Her sonar operator cried a warning as a ranging ping rang out before the Ka glanced upwards and recoiled before a serpentine figure collided with her. The brief glimpse of a humanoid upper torso and an insane grin chilled Xia's core as the Re forcibly dragged her to the surface, kicking and screaming before delivering a knock to her head that left the submarine dazed.
She was going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it.
Yet, even as Jia struggled to get her bearings and tiny boots thumped across her pressure hull, her mind was cataloguing an entire binder of oddities. While her crew were split between arming themselves with what little weapons they had and trying to unjam her periscope, there was no ignoring the conversation going on above her head.
"I found the Innie submarine!" A youthful (far too young for Repulse) girl whined. "My marines should lead the boarding party."
A second girl blew a raspberry. "Mum said we should sink the fanatical Innies! This one's crew hasn't come out yet, so let's sink them and salvage the hull later."
"Nuh, uh! Mum told us to offer surrender first, not just sink them because you're hungry!"
Alarmed at the mention of hunger and recalling more than one horror story about cannibalistic Re-class', Jia Xin tried to draw her boot knife but couldn't with her arms pinned to her sides. But, thankfully, neither of her captors noticed as the argument had reached full-on shouting levels.
"You're just jealous 'cause I have a bigger crew!"
"You've got Brenny aboard; he doesn't count!"
"Does too!"
"Doesn't!"
"Does!"
"Muuuummm!" The first girl's voice carried the distinctive crackle of a radio transmission.
The captured Ka found herself distracted from the incoming call as someone began rapping on her conning tower's hatch in morse code. Jia's Captain and XO shared a confused glance before slowly lowering their pistols as the message came through and waited for their ship to translate and decide on a response. And, for her part, the sub was just as confused by whoever was asking if she was the 'fish-eyed Innie who badly needs a haircut and leaves cards at her ass like a hooker magician'.
"Tell them that I'm Singapore's representative to Repulse!" Jia hissed to her Captain.
The tiny officer did as asked but recoiled as a furious tirade of chittering erupted over his head. The arguing girls immediately shut up as the speaker called them out for being a shame to the Navy and their mother before demanding access to a radio set. For the first time since her awakening, none of Jia Xin's accumulated knowledge of the Abyss helped her understand what in the actual fuck was going on.
The next thing she knew, her captor released her and spoke. "Mum says I shouldn't have ambushed you," then, incredibly sullenly. "Sorry for whacking you over the head."
Then, finally getting her periscopes unjammed as she rubbed the nasty bump the girl had left, Jia opened her eyes to stare at the horrifying sight of two mini-Re-class. And, while they were far smaller than those particular predators from the Deep and wore actual clothes, the girls were undoubtedly related to Repulse. Then, looking nothing as much as teenage versions of the Re Hime, she filed away details on the cruiser-weight twin's 4" superfiring fore turrets and... were those fucking helicopters parked on their aft decks?!
"What in the Deep..."
"You speak weird," the other twin remarked before glaring at her sister. "Look what you've done, Boa! You made the Innie talk all funny."
The second Mini-Re stuck her forked tongue out. "She's wearing a respirator, dummy; you'd speak weird if you had a mask on all the time!"
A terse chitter above Jia's head reminded the pair that their mum wouldn't be happy either way and suggested (in the same kind of voice that Singapore issued orders with) that they bring the representative back to port. Her Captain dared to open the hatch and came face to mouthparts with a humanoid crustacean with a Bren gun over one shoulder and wearing a beret perched between its eyestalks.
He immediately slammed the hatch closed and ran off, crying about the world no longer making sense.
"Hey, Innie, you got a name?"
Jia blinked and stared at the miniature Sea Naga called Boa. "Huh?"
"Your...name," the girl slowly responded as if the Ka was stupid. "You have one?"
"It's Jia Xin."
Abruptly, a blue-skinned hand was shoved in her direction. "I'm HMS Boa, Snake class Marine Support Ship!"
"And I'm HMS Python, also of the Royal Navy and this dork's twin," the other mini-Re offered without looking a handshake.
The submarine carefully accepted the hand and nearly had her arms wrenched from its socket from the force used by Boa. But, before she could protest, the cruiser-carrier hybrid... carrier cruiser? turned around and beckoned Jia to follow.
"C'mon, Mum wants to meet you!"
She wasn't given a choice about following as the aviation cruisers (did that work when the air wing were helicopters?) flanked the Ka and guided her towards the distant form of Uwi Island. The pair grumbled under their breaths about being forced to slow down for Jia's sake, but the pace let her pick out essential details about Repulse's port and how it had changed since a week ago. She got as far as picking out cannon emplacements overlooking the bay before a figure hopped off the dock, and then a supercapital aviation battleship took all her entranced attention.
Immediately, her meagre gifts in the Deep's arcane arts quailed beneath the roiling typhoon of a True Princess' power, so much so that her engines actually missed a stroke. But, while Jia had long become immune to the background hum of an active port that personified Singapore's domain, Repulse's was another thing entirely.
The stench of cordite, sloshing blood across decks littered with bodies and the cacophony of two ships firing into each other at point-blank ranges was just some of the things that assailed Jia Xin's mind before the pressure abruptly vanished. Reeling from the uncontrolled torrent of power, she pulled her respirator off and spat out bilge water that tasted coppery before looking up from the ocean.
A vision of superdreadnought beauty met her eyes and radiantly smiled.
Repulse rested on the water with a grace that something with her displacement shouldn't ever possess, every inch of her soft Naga form a delight to the eyes and her warbook both. Jia's crew raced to update her estimates of the Re Hime's just-visible steel hull that towered over every other ship present and somehow not being heart-stopping terrifying. Her gaze inadvertently climbed, rested for a long moment on the greatest fuel bunkers to ever grace a warship before hesitantly returning Repulse's warm smile.
"On behalf of the Royal Navy and the East Indies Zulu Fleet, you have my utmost apologies for the incident, Jia Xin."
The Ka's knees turned to rubber as each royalty imbued word reached her ears, only staying upright through sheer force of will and her crew hitting the emergency methamphetamine chocolate stash. But, still struggling to keep her eyes above the Princess' bustline, Jia Xin attempted to sketch a bow.
"I am Jia Xin, representative of Singapore Harbour..."
Something delightfully soft pressed against her head as she felt an arm loop around her shoulder.
"Leave the stuffy talk for after you've gotten something in your bunkers," Repulse's laugh was downright angelic. "I'm Repulse, by the way, of His Majesty King George VI's Royal Navy."
Without a shred of doubt, Jia knew that she was smitten with the massively overbuilt superdreadnought aviation battleship.
Any doubts Jia Xin had about Repulse's identity vanished as she stared at the Union Jack flying in front of a warehouse-turned-port control. The flag itself was patched together from at least a dozen different cloths, but the care and attention put into the emblem spoke leagues about the Re Hime, which worried the submarine.
Abyssals never returned with their old loyalties, ever.
The appearance of a band of Abbyssal abominations bearing tarnished instruments was odd given they were human-sized. Yet, they began playing Heart of Oak the moment Jia stepped onto the dock. Bemused, she half-stumbled before catching herself and fought hard to keep the shock she was experiencing off her face. Footsoldier's of the Deep scurried around, more often than not full-sized, performing duties that the submarine could only guess related to the port's workings. Repulse's domain settled across the island like an exceptionally comfy blanket of loyalty, commitment and something else she couldn't identify.
"I'm genuinely sorry about my daughter's actions, Jia Xin," Repulse remarked as she somehow snuck up on the Ka. "They've only been out of dock a week, which brings with it a certain immaturity."
Jia did a double-take. "What do you mean they've been out of dock a week?"
In response, the divine superdreadnought Princess put an arm around her shoulder and guided the submarine towards a dock at the far end of the small port. Sure enough, the bow and fore turret of a steel-hull Tsu of all things was poking out the doors while the sound of grinding and machinery emerged from within.
"I've got a petty officer from my engineering team leading a unit that tore down two of those heavy cruisers and rebuilt them from the keel up," Repulse proudly remarked as if that statement wasn't the height of insanity. "The crews we liberated helped make it a reality; we'd have never done it within two weeks if not for them."
Automatic reflexes took over as Jia made an affirming hum and let the Princess guide her towards a nearby building. But, internally, she was screaming her head off at the multiple impossibilities with Repulse's statement and the undeniable fact that Boa and Python were not Abyssal-built ships. Oh, sure, the mini-Re's might have been built by a certain Hime with an enormous displacement, but no Abyssal or Kanmusu shipyard had ever produced aviation cruisers fitted for helicopters!
Was Repulse secretly a mobile Installation Princess?
Jia surreptitiously stuck a hand down her wetsuit's front while the aviation battleship opened a door and retrieved the meth chocolate her XO handed her. The energy helped her concentrate while avoiding spending overly long gazing at the Princess' impressive aft as they struggled to fit through doorways. The tang of fuel oil greeted the Ka well before she was led into a room containing a table made from what looked like a slab of armour plate welded to the floor set for three people. While that wasn't unusual, Singapore had hosted a fair number of dinners with Jia in attendance over the years, the fuel oil in five-gallon drums alongside bowls of assorted nuts, rivets and bolts were.
She had an inkling of where the resources had come from for the meal and shivered.
"It's a poor fare for Singapore's representative, I know," Repulse apologised, mistaking Jia's fear for disgust over the meal. "But if King George can stand rationing alongside his people, then so can I as a British vessel."
That was the second time the Hime had mentioned King George, which was another nail in the coffin of her having returned as more Repulse than Re-class. Murmuring her thanks, Jia chose the seat with its back to the door and waited for Repulse to slither to the only setting without any seating. Yet, while that made sense given their frankly enormous snake half whose scales had an oily sheen in the light, the unoccupied seat had the submarine curious.
"Are we waiting on someone?"
"My Captain," Repulse answered without missing a beat. "He's dealing with writing up a commendation for the Wyvern pilot who sunk the heavy cruiser you saw in the dock, but he'll be with us shortly."
"I see," Jia lied.
While she could accept the Hime's other claims with some disbelief, them inviting their Captain outside their hull was flat out...
A structural member shaking pulse of arcane power from Repulse (who was nearly head deep in her oil drum and obviously not concentrating) heralded a footsoldier of the Deep appearing with a pop of displaced air. The machine and flesh hybrid's slick Abyssal steel armour gleamed as its wet rasping echoed through the dead silent room. The abomination's height, build and flesh-rending claws reminded Jia of some of Guadacanal's more deranged marine infantry before she got flattened by a Kanmusu strike force. But, unlike those maddened footsoldiers, and the reason the Ka hid her face by drinking deep from her fuel oil was the undeniable intelligence in the creature's crimson lenses.
"I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Jia Xin, but I don't know your intentions," the hybrid spoke in choked but understandable English.
Jia's mind wasn't in the implicit threat in their words, nor the way Repulse ceased drinking and gazed down the table with lidded eyes. No, all her attention was on how the creature had used pronouns... as if it was its own being and not just a shade brought back alongside the Princess sharing the room with them.
"I'm here... Singapore wishes," Jia stumbled over her words in a rush. "Lady Singapore wishes to have good relations with a fellow Abyssal Princess like Repulse."
The creepy and/or insane pair shared a glance. "What's an Abyssal?" The Hime asked.
The submarine's wafer-thin composure snapped at the Princess' confused expression before she shoved a hand down her swimsuit and pulled out the most potent alcohol she had. Then, heedless of how bad the entire thing looked from a diplomatic viewpoint, Jia Xin uncapped her flask of paint-searing rotgut and poured the volatile mixture down the hatch. The quasi-toxic blend of cursed ritual fuel, alchemical runoff and moonshine left the Ka's head spinning as her crew really began hitting the meth chocolate.
Then, fingers trembling and eyes bloodshot, Jia pointed at Repulse. "You're an Abyssal," she hissed. "A Royal from the Deep charged with waging war against humanity and everything they stand for except you're not doing anything you're supposed to!"
Rather than explode at the Ka, the Princess just cocked her head. "Huh?"
"THAT!" Jia screamed. "There's eight operational Re-class, and they're all insane monsters who can barely be controlled, let alone trusted to lead other Abyssals! But even they don't break every law in the Deep by magicking brand new ships out of thin fucking air, gorge themselves on parts stripped from fellow Abyssals or claiming loyalty to an empire that's been defunct for decades!"
Too late, the submarine realised her mistake as the room's temperature plummeted while Repulse's soft domain grew increasingly oppressive. The empty five-gallon drum in her right hand squealed as she gradually crushed it with Deep knew however many hundreds of thousands of SHP the aviation superdreadnought possessed. Jia swallowed thickly as the contained kept getting smaller before it vanished in the other Abyssal's fist before they suddenly drooped the remains. The coin-sized lump dented the armour plate table when it impacted before the ringing faded into complete silence.
She stared death in the face, and it responded with a smile without a shred of warmth.
Repulse released a flat chuckle. "I had wondered, in the days after my awakening... about how the occultists had performed their foul rituals. My crew has seen jet-powered aircraft flying so far above our heads as to be mere specks in the sky, and at night a great many stars appear to move on their own..."
The tail-head began gnashing its teeth in Jia's direction, causing the terrified submarine to flinch backwards.
"Repulse..." The Hime's Captain warned.
"Radio signals in no format known to my logbooks," the Princes continued like she hadn't heard him. "Dead air or static on the bands I used during my service... what I recall, at the least." she chuckled darkly and grimaced. "Able Rating Chompy, stand down; Jia Xin is not our enemy."
As the head's multitude of turrets ceased tracking before it settled down, Jia thought she heard rain begin to fall on the roof. Repulse's overpowering aura stopped flooding the room when the Princess sagged forward and only just caught herself before impacting the table. Instead, waves of pure melancholy and pervasive grief rolled in like the storm fronts that heralded Abyssal assaults. Such was its intensity that the Ka found her vision blurring as second-hand emotions affected her to the point of fighting back the tears.
"How did it end?" Repulse abruptly asked.
Jia Xin's hull shook from the royal command and found herself speaking with a frankness that none outside Singapore knew about. And, in perhaps the greatest departure from her script of them all, the sub didn't read from the pamphlet her Princess had made for Repulse.
"It's currently 2023; you sank just over eighty-two years ago," she explained, drawing a gasp from the forlorn Re Hime. "By the time the war ended in 1945, the British Empire was bankrupt, and they started shedding colonies and territories over the decades. Britain gave Hong Kong back to China in 1997, Singapore says that's when the Empire finally died."
The Princess' Captain stood up with the rattle of armour plate and gently embraced the shaking Repulse. It leant in and whispered something too low for Jia to make out, but as the quiet sobs began to fade, she suspected it was a reassurance of sorts. It creeped her out, to be honest, seeing an Abyssal Royal being comforted by the shade of their commanding officer about the slow demise of a human empire. The negative emotions clogging the air didn't fade, but they eased enough that the Ka's crew ceased gorging themselves on meth chocolate.
It was a good thing, too; there was only a single bar remaining of a box of sixty.
Repulse's eyes were dead as she raised her head to meet Jia's gaze. "And what of King George?"
"He..." Jia began only to be interrupted by the Captain.
"King George VI died on February sixth, 1952," he whispered in an eerily human voice for a footsoldier. "Princess Elizabeth assumed the throne as Elizabeth II on June second, 1953."
"Captain," Repulse said, glowing blue eyes meeting crimson lenses. "You... you remember?"
The abomination jerkily nodded. "I... I remember being there, for the coronation, that is." He released a nigh-hysterical giggle. "I don't know why I was there as a mere Captain, but I remember it!"
Now it was the Princess' turn to comfort her Captain, the gesture no less creepy to Jia than it had been the other way around. The rain outside was thundering down now, audible despite the several feet of concrete between the Ka's hydrophones and the downpour. She'd bet her remaining chocolate that Repulse's negative emotions had accidentally summoned a masking spell of the sort typically used to cover entire battlegroups. Yet, whatever the case was for the storm, the Hime's abrupt rise from the table caused Jia to fall off her chair and go for her boot knife.
When no attack came, she dared to look and found the superdreadnought aviation battleship staring down at her with an unreadable expression.
"Forgive me, Miss Jia Xin, but there's something I must do," the Boarding Party Princess declared. "You're free to accompany me if you so wish."
Being someone who enjoyed living, the submarine scrambled to her feet and obeyed the royal command with only the barest tremble of terror. A whispered word to her Captain and a light touch to the shoulder had the fey abomination vanishing before Repulse turned and left the room. But, unlike the first time, there was no lustfully gazing at the Re's tail as it swished back and forth, not when the head at the end was still eyeing her warily. Instead, a steady drizzle and low, heavy stormclouds greeted Jia as she trailed behind the Princess as she manoeuvred past utterly silent dressed ranks of footsoldiers of the Deep. Finally, Boa, Python and a Ni-class destroyer moved aside to let Repulse slide onto the water before facing the Union Jack.
"By now, you all know that we are a fleet out of time, honourable soldiers, sailors and aviators of the Royal Navy," the flagship began as the water rolled down her body. "Eighty-two years we rested in Davy Jones' locker while the Empire we served till death faded thanks to a war we never saw the end of. Yet here we stand, the fallen returned once more to answer the call of King and Country... but our King passed long before our revival."
At an unseen command, two ranks of rifle-armed humanoid crustaceans, presumably Repulse's marine compliment, formed a path for another of their kind to approach the flagpole. Recognising the act, Jia allowed her crew to begin recording the scene as the marine lowered the Union Jack to half-mast. Then, stealing a glance at the Princess, she swore not all the water flowing down their face was rain before their primary and secondary batteries elevated skyward.
Repulse saluted the flag. "The tradition is a 21-gun salute, but our King deserves better." here, she waved the nearby ships back before heading further out into the bay. "I shall now fire twenty-one shots from each of my cannon to mark King George VI's passing."
Jia barely had time to brace before the Princess' six 16" naval rifles and thirty-six 4" cannon fired as one, displacing a massive cone of water around her. The concussion of the barrage shook her crew around inside the pressure hull, excepting her XO, who continued to film the entire thing while half-deaf. So it was that on the minute for the next twenty minutes, Repulse fired another barrage into the sky with a downright unnatural cadence, never missing a second despite the havoc the repeated concussions would do to fragile timekeeping pieces aboard. Other than the gun salute, the only sound in the dead air was the forlorn flapping of the Union Jack which continued to fly in a wind that was no longer present.
Jia recognised the tune instantly, having heard Singapore hum it to herself those few times she permanently lost one of her subordinate ships. It was impossible not to feel touched by the gesture, especially when the Abyss reacted strongly to the sense of loss filling the port. Yet nothing happened as the Last Post trailed off with a single note fading away. Catching sight of Repulse moving, the Ka stiffened as the Princess saluted the flag once again.
"THE KING IS DEAD!"
Reality itself was minutely warped as a True Princess expressed her grief by screaming four simple words, but her domain came flooding in to fill the void left by the negative emotions. The staccato beat of kettle drums meshed with clashing steel and dying screams in an undeniable call to arms... No, Jia Xin thought to herself, a call to war.
"LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!"
'LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!'
Mouthparts and orifices never intended to voice such a cry did precisely that in a simultaneous roar that rattled the submarine's XO something fierce. The imp fell down the conning tower's ladder, but upon hitting bottom, he triumphantly held up the undamaged camera he'd used to record the entire ceremony. Jia ordered it secured somewhere insulated and returned to the outside world in time to catch Repulse addressing her.
"What does the Singapore Harbour Princess want with me and my fleet, Jia Xin?"
Despite there being no royal command to force a response, she still answered as if it had been present.
"An alliance, if possible," Jia honestly replied before gesturing towards the east. "She's willing to see the Light Cruiser Princess that controls the archipelago die if it means securing peace with your fleet."
Repulse hummed before her eyes narrowed. "And the fleet heading in that direction, what of them?"
"They've got orders to disengage and head home when I give the signal that a treaty has been signed with you."
Unexpectedly, the Re Hime leant down and offered Jia a handshake. "I owe you a debt, Jia Xin of Singapore, for informing me of King George's passing." She squeezed once and uttered a sentence that stalled the submarine's diesel engines. "I will repay that debt."
Receiving an open-ended debt from a fucking superdreadnought aviation battleship was the depth charge that broke the Ka's back. She collapsed into the comforting embrace of Repulse and didn't even intend for her head to rest between their amazing fuel bunkers. Jia's last act was to send the pre-arranged signal to the Ta-class fast battleship's fleet.
Pity, she was going to miss the fireworks.
"Fuckers are still milling about in the bay," a silver-haired young girl muttered. The Ni-class destroyers guarding the improvised prison growled as she leant against the bars. "Oh, piss off, you overgrown guppies!"
"Vampire," her companion growled, inclining his head towards the storm clouds to the west.
"I wasn't seeing shit anyway," the girl muttered before backing off.
Lieutenant Commander Tobias Williamson breathed a sigh of relief that set his bruised rib on fire. Then, grimacing, he leant back against the only solid wall in the prison and waited for HMAS Vampire to drag herself across the floor and start cursing the second she touched the wall. But, of course, he didn't blame her for the language, not when both her legs ended at the knee and her rigging was a mess of forcibly removed weapons and crippling.
Tobias still wasn't sure how the Abyssals had intercepted and shot down their transport over Jakarta.
"What d'ya think the frigid bitches want with us cripples?" The shipgirl asked.
He went to shrug, then decided to shake his head. "I think the Belitung Princess was intending to trade us to Singapore for hulls, but that's based on intel from six months back."
"Not like it does us any good here," Vampire chuckled darkly. "Ten shillings this one is looking to use us for a ritual."
"Fifteen dollars its a blood ritual," the Commander retorted with a wry grin.
The silver-haired V-class destroyer stuck her tongue out. "Feck off with that paper crap, give me good old pounds, shillings and pence any day."
"Nobody uses those these days, you relic."
"Says the crunchy."
"Tin can."
"Ketchup bottle."
Tobias blinked and gave his friend a raised eyebrow. "Ketchup bottle?"
"Yea," Vampire mimed, shaking a bottle. "Short and full of red stuff..."
The unmistakable thunder of distant cannon fire had the RAN personnel flinching away from the bars facing the island's bay. Vampire glared at the startled Abyssal destroyers as they chittered worriedly at each other, but when those settled down, she sulked back towards the back of the prison. There she found the Lieutenant Commander staring at something in his hand with open-mouthed shock.
"Something wrong, Toby?" She questioned her friend.
"The watch is working..." he muttered, seemingly unaware of her presence.
Vampire looked at the modern (old-fashioned to these upper-time folk) pocket watch. "Aint that what watches do?"
Toby shook his head. "Not this watch..." distant cannon fire erupted again, and he jerked as if stung. "It moved again!"
"Pun fully intended here, El-Cee, but you're sounding like a broken clock."
Her friend and fellow prisoner shoved the watch in her face and grunted as he hurt his bust ribs. Vampire was there to steady him as he jabbed a bloody finger at the name inscribed on the inside cover.
"My Great-Grandfather had this watch on Repulse when the Japanese sank her," then, seeing the shipgirl's flat look, he pointed at the minute hand just past half twelve. "That stopped working the exact minute Repulse went under, 12:33 AM and the family's never been able to fix it."
The destroyer was lost. "But it's showing 12:35..." thunder rumbled, and the hand jumped to 12:36. "Kay, I'm seeing what's so creepy now."
The pair interspersed the time watching the Abyssals in the bay and keeping track of how many times the minute hand moved. It wasn't long before Vampire's still intact optics focussed on something to the northwest.
"Head's up, Toby; storm's getting worse."
The Lieutenant Commander glanced up and struggled to make out any difference in the dark blob on the horizon. But, as he stared and heard the pocket watch inexorably count time, the clouds were starting to look increasingly violent to his eyes. Tobias heard one last barrage and checked the time, seeing it resting on six minutes to one. Which, if he remembered correctly, was twenty-one minutes for twenty-one artillery salvos... a salute?
Vampire had the same idea. "Who the fuck's giving a twenty-one gun salute in the middle of that?" She grumbled something uncomplimentary only to unleash an uncharacteristic squeal. "The Ta down there just clocked one of the cruisers in the bloody face!"
Scrambling to the front of the prison, Tobias watched as the newcomer's fleet abruptly about-faced and steamed out of the bay, heading due south. The Light Cruiser Princess running the show on this hellhole howled like a banshee, but her head abruptly snapped towards the northwest. Only when every Abyssal visible copied the gesture, including the destroyer guards, did the Commander spot the black dots diving out of the approaching storm front.
"Are those..." Tobias whispered as he spotted the aircraft's camo scheme.
The Ni-class warbled hunting cries and opened fire with their AA as they sprinted for the bay, as did every other Abyssal present. Vampire whooped as the attacking Sea Fury's launched a rocket strike that peppered the enemy formation before powering through the flak to race overhead. Tobias joined his companion in waving at the FAA fighter-bombers as more continued to arrive and attack the Abyssals.
"Why'd they send Illustrious to rescue us?!" He shouted to be heard over the pitched battle erupting in the bay.
Vampire howled in laughter as a Tsu ate a perfect bomb drop that broke the cruiser's back. "Who the hell cares, Toby! The Navy's here to rescue our crippled asses!"
Unseen, the pocket watch clutched in his fist continued to tick.
I hope Y'all enjoy it.
I ate two cookies to get this written... now I've only got one left.
A pilot looking vaguely like an octopus crossed with a honey badger fell off his chair along with most of his comrades in the ready room as the shipwide call went out. Wisely choosing against getting stuck in the hatch, as always happened during a scramble, he waited till the squadron leader kicked the organic blockage out of the way and dragged the unfortunates in their wake. The pilot bumped suckers with a fellow honey badger/octopus hybrid and ran towards HMS Repulse's hangars. Other crewmembers were crashing down the closest hatches as he brushed past, returning from the service to mark the King's passing.
He hated missing it on account of being part of the ready squadron.
A burly mollusc grabbed the pilot as he entered the hangar and non too gently tossed him towards his Sea Fury. He good-naturedly cursed out the lobber's ancestry and wiped his fur down before slinking into the cockpit and going through the truncated pre-flight checks. The pilot's one glance towards the squadron leader had the blue-ringed octopus forgo shouting over the hangar's din, extending two arms like a plane's wings and cup his beak as if speaking into a mask.
Relieved he'd be getting orders in the air; the pilot watched as groundcrew loaded racks of RP-3 rockets onto his Fury's hardpoints and a 1000lb bomb on the fuselage pylon. Then, once he'd confirmed the weapons were synched to his Fury, the humanoid lobsters went behind the fighter-bomber and started pushing it towards the aircraft elevator. The pilot's craft joined three others from his squadron before the platform ascended to the storm-wracked flight deck. Rain pounded on his canopy, making him realise he hadn't known the weather had deteriorated while inside Repulse.
A bit of blustery wind and a drizzle wasn't going to stop him flying, not for anything!
He followed the start-up procedure and grinned as his fighter's Bristol Centaurus engine coughed before roaring to life. Similar scenes repeated across the rain-lashed deck as Sea Fury's and Wyverns loaded down with torpedos, rockets and bombs prepared for takeoff. The pilot sucked in a deep breath as he was guided to the catapult alongside the rest of the squadron before he briefly squished as the aircraft was tossed into the air. Then, he opened up the throttle and banked to follow the squadron leader as they laid out the plan in popping cackles.
They were to smash anything larger than a popgun flat across the western coast of the enemies' home island to clear the way for marines to advance inland.
Another pilot raised a question about what happened afterwards.
Keep the air clear of Innie bandits; the squadron leader responded as he led them through a veritable typhoon. And, before anyone complained, Zeros, Kates, and Vals were the expected opposition.
Early-war junk, a chuckling comrade replied over the radio, making the pilot laugh as he caught sight of the marine Whirlwinds just beginning their ascent before the helicopters dropped out of sight.
He'd have wished the mad bastards good luck, but Repulse's boarding teams were far beyond the realm of luck. The pilot played with the stick to ensure his ordinance was properly seated before flicking the switches to arm them. Then, he took several steadying breaths and entered the zone with that done, primary arms grasping the flight stuck while his flexible appendages prepared to trigger controls as needed.
He was an aviator of Her Majesty's Fleet Air Arm aboard HMS Repulse, and he would not fail his duty.
The transition from thundering squall to afternoon East Indies sunshine temporarily blinded the pilot before he got his craft under control in time to dodge AA fire. However, even with the ordinance loading his Fury down, he quickly escaped the thick but badly-aimed danger zone and cheered alongside the rest of the squadron as he began his attack run. Pushing the nose down, he aimed for a coastal battery bordering the sizeable port's outer perimeter and squeezed off a burst of 20mm to spook the crew. The Innies scattered like bowling pins as the pilot released the 1000lb bomb on an arc towards the position and utilised the bounce to gain altitude rapidly. The fireball in the rear-view mirror marked the death of that hazard.
Detonations rocked across that section of the island as the rest of the squadron turned the defences within to scrap metal. The pilot never saw the 100mm shell fired from the bay that tore through his Sea Fury like paper mache, a one in a million shot that killed him instantly.
I felt another member of my crew die and winced, only to flash my teeth as the offending destroyer ate a torpedo to the stern and began taking on water. The staff in my CiC kept track of the data piped to their compartment and helped me guide the flow of battle as my strike craft duelled with the distant Innie fleet and the island's defences. An intermittent but growing number of pilots winked out as they passed beyond, but I pulled them to me before the Abyss could sink its tentacles into them.
"You're not getting my crew," I snarled at the ocean.
"You say something, Mum?" Python asked over the short-range radio.
Glancing to starboard, I shook my head as my daughter prepared to sortie her Whirlwinds while keeping track of the storm front's edge. Boa to port said nothing, but her actions mirrored her twin's down to the way both nervously flickered their tails. Any doubts about bringing them along died with the news that Jia Xin had brought with her... regarding the death of the King.
My Captain noticed my distraction. "Eyes up, Repulse," he softly uttered, then, addressing the bridge. "Tell Able and Baker turret to engage the heavy cruisers first while the secondaries split between hostile destroyers and shore facilities."
"Leave the aircraft to me, Captain," I growled as memories of my sinking resurfaced.
He said nothing, but I knew he approved as I fed my AA directors information on Zeros, Kates and Vals piped from the CiC and shivered in anticipation as the Bofors mounts whirred and elevated skyward. The marine's bloodlust flared as they felt my eagerness and fed back to me in a keel-tingling shudder as I imagined Abyssal planes burning and falling from the sky. And, as my pilots engaged the Innie aircraft scrambling from the island's airfield, I took solace in it not being long until I did the same.
"Breaching the storm in three, two... one!" My Captain warned as my bow punched through into the sunlight beyond.
Able turret had the honour of firing the first salvo, a trio of 16" shells landing short of the heavy cruiser they'd targeted. The little bastards still cheered as the Abyssal threw herself aside in shock before she spotted my arrival. I'll admit to some measure of enjoyment as terror rippled out from that solitary cruiser to her companions. But, as my hull trembled as my artillery opened fire at everything in range, I only had eyes for the sole Innie blazing to my esoteric senses.
The light cruiser's bone-white hair, the same length as my own, wrapped around a whipcord thin fusion of pallid flesh and light-drinking steel in the shape of a woman. Narrowed eyes alight with a cold cyan fire briefly widened as she laid eyes on me before the distant cruiser's presence erupted in my mind's eye. The fleet of light and heavy cruisers forming her personal escort stiffened before their defensive fire intensified two-fold. I watched her smirk as a squadron's worth of my strike craft rained down in balls of fire and splinters, the deaths hitting me like a punch to the gut.
It was the first time so many had died, and I rocked back with copper filling my mouth before steadying myself. Perhaps the hostile Princess assumed I'd be phased by the losses and stayed still as my aircraft vacated the enhanced defensive fire zone to attack other targets of opportunity. I smiled alongside my Captain as the range dropped to 8 miles, and I retasked all my guns to focus on the heavy metal in this puny fleet.
But, first, I addressed my daughters. "Python, Boa, go to flank speed and head due north," I ordered, speaking over their rapid protests. "Support the marines landing there."
"But, Mum!" The twins chorused simultaneously.
Their desire to help burned hot and incandescent, but a pitched battle at point-blank range was no place for Marine Support Ships. Ranging shots from the approaching cruisers straddled Python, who screamed and slammed her rudder hard to port and crossed my wake at flank speed. Boa gave me a terrified grimace before she followed her sister and quickly fell behind under cover of harassing fire from my aircraft. My gut churned as I felt more than saw the hostile Princess target my daughters, but a fluke 16" shell gutting one of her escorts had her ire and fire directed towards the larger target.
Me.
Already, the dozen shark hybrid destroyers screening the light cruiser turned to unleash torpedo launchers while a veritable deluge of increasingly accurate 6" and 8" shells started scoring near misses. The peculiarities of our ship/woman form allowed angles of fire impossible from a steel hull, something I abused as I ordered my gunners to pick a target and fire at will. I was slower, far larger and thus easier to target, but these fools didn't realise their mistake in getting close until I reached inside me for the power I'd unleashed during the 21-gun salute and pulled.
I dove underwater and lunged towards the closest boarding target.
Tobias had never seen Vampire look scared in the entire five years he'd known her since she returned. The WW1 veteran wasn't the sort to frighten easily (or, as he'd thought, at all), but the Lieutenant Commander's stomach dropped as she threw herself back from the prison's bars with a truncated scream. He was at her side as fast as his bust ribs allowed, but the destroyer was already propping herself up even as colour crept back to her cheeks.
"That's not the Navy, Toby," Vampire said, eyes fixed on the distant battle. "Whatever that thing is, it ain't friendly."
"But..." Tobias waved towards the FFA aircraft, duelling Abyssals overhead. "The planes..."
"Spooky ghost trickery or some dodgy bullshit. I've seen Abyssal Princess' before, Commander, an I ain't scared of them." Here, she turned shaken eyes towards the Australian officer. "But that thing out there frightens me to the keel."
He glanced out to the bay and watched a tiny blob disappear behind a wall of muzzle flashes that were answered in kind by the Abyssal fleet. Tobias' hope for rescue cried to ignore the crippled destroyer's panicking in favour of believing help was on their way... but he trusted Vampire with his life.
"Alright," the Commander admitted as much to himself as the shipgirl. "Break it down for me in steel hull terms, Lieutenant; ignore the Abyssal side for now."
Vampire's trembling slowed and eventually halted before she nodded. "Fuck it, sorry bout that, El-Cee."
"The big bitch is some kind of obscenely oversized Re, like, crazy huge judging by the cruisers escorting her," the destroyer flashed her teeth. "Didn't get a good look at the escorts; I think they were Furutaka's, which makes large and in charge out there bout twice their length."
"Jesus Christ," Tobias cursed. "That's what? Larger than Iowa?"
An Abyssal dive bomber roared overhead, shell casings falling as the Wyvern chasing it opened fire with 20mm cannon. The Commander covered his ears as the turboprop's residual thrust hammered at his ears, leaving them ringing for a solid minute afterwards. Vampire's gutted rigging twitched as she tried to aim AA guns that were no longer present before falling back with a dark laugh.
"Larger than Iowa and probably twice as wide," she cried to her companion's dismay. "Wanna know the fun part?"
Tobias didn't, but he nodded along anyway out of morbid curiosity.
"The mutant Re's using FAA aircraft and has Mark Sixteen DP four inchers..." Vampire bared her sharpened teeth as her friend reeled. "The first British Abyssal Re in existence, and we're never gonna be able to tell anyone."
The officer felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under him and hit the dirt when his legs gave out. The battle outside the squalid prison faded as Tobias' mind turned inwards as he realised his earlier hope was merely a cruel trick played by the Abyssal bitches. Oh, they'd done far worse to his country and him than simply playing a horrible joke with his emotions, but he'd thought his grandfather's watch ticking had meant something. Unknowingly tightening his grip on the timekeeping device, Tobias hissed as pain lanced through his palm, prompting him to open it to reveal crimson streaks.
He held up the bloody watch. "Just my fucking luck," he muttered, showing the device to Vampire. "We're gonna die, and I cut my hand on..." The familiar thump-thump-thump of rotor blades had him searching for the source. "Helicopters? Here?"
That's when a humanoid crab wearing a beret with a Bren gun slung on its shoulder turned the corner.
Hanging out the Whirlwind's side door with a hand on the overhead handle, Brenny waved towards the jungle spitting fire up at the helicopter.
"WELCOME TO THE EAST INDIES, GENTLEMEN!"
The nine marines sharing the passenger compartment with him cheered as support fire from either Boa or Python smashed an Abyssal emplacement flat. Brenny flared his mouthparts in the best grin he could manage as the ten helicopters carrying their reinforced company dropped like a stone and hit the ground hard. The few surviving Abyssal units in the vicinity then suffered the ignoble fate of being targeted by Her Majesty's Royal Marines.. with a vengeance.
The sergeant's Bren gun was up and firing as he targetted a confused squad of Innies armed with bolt-action rifles. The group went down as automatic fire from his unit's Sterlings and Stens scythed through them, with SLR fire taking out the only one left standing. Brenny held his beret down as the Whirlwinds took off, let his machine gun hang by the sling and gestured for two of his marines to check the bodies. Then, he nodded to the Major, who began handing out orders as the two soldiers did that.
Brenny grinned as he got the honour of taking point for the entire company.
So, after rounding up his troops and reloading the half-empty magazine, the sergeant prowled towards the trees in search of the enemy. But, alas, the squad reached the treeline without finding a single intact hostile, though he noted a great many bodyparts with macabre amusement. Brenny wasn't disappointed, though, far from it, for he promptly caught the sound of many bodies rushing through the undergrowth and ordered his troops to hide behind trees.
The Innies that stumbled across them were a motley collection of obvious disembarked ship crews or labourers handed rifles and told to go shoot things. Feeling cheeky, the sergeant stepped out from behind his tree and clotheslined the skinless otter leading the enemies. Bone crunched as the Innie's windpipe collapsed from hitting solid carapace at speed before they fell, clasping their throat. Alarmed cries rang out from the enemy, but the marines opened fire before the amateurs had even raised their weapons.
Brenny walked over the bleeding corpses with a spring in his step and excitement in his heart.
The level of resistance was far too low; he mused to himself as he helped bind one of his people's wounded arms, especially for an island with such a heavy fleet presence. The air battle going on overhead was as pitched as it had been initially, but the naval fighting had seemingly died down somewhat to his ear holes. Conferring with the other sergeants got similar responses, though Brenny's eternal bond with Repulse was an intoxicating blend of bloodlust and joy. But, when he tried to enjoy the sensation, one of his marines held up a watch.
The sergeant's eye-stalks focussed on the device because it sure as hell hadn't been present a minute ago. Asking the alarmed soldier got confused babbling from them before the watch started bleeding all over their pincer. Brenny went to grab the cursed timekeeping device only for the marine holding it to pivot and jab his free hand to the southeast. But that wasn't what had him calling up the major and asking permission to divert from the plan.
If he could trust the creepy bleeding watch (Brenny didn't, but it promised to be an exciting romp regardless), there were friendlies in danger in that direction.
That's how, after a call to the closest Wyvern unit with ordinance, Brenny found himself leading three squads in Whirlwinds racing at tree-top level as the strike aircraft flattened everything that looked at them weird. He kept a close eye on the watch marine, who was frantically gesturing to a low-slung building surrounded by overgrown rubble, wondering if this was the place. Their worried chittering had the Wyverns breaking off to harass anyone stupid enough to stand in the open, leaving Brenny's marines free to land well back from the isolated structure and advance by sections.
Warning his men to hang back, he pressed against the brick wall and slowly eased around the corner towards where he could hear movement. The ringing in his ears from all the fighting made it a bitch and a half to make out the language, but the sergeant froze as he recognised Australian accents. Not believing what he was hearing, Brenny slung his machine gun and walked around the final corner and beheld an old destroyer with shattered rigging and no legs... and a youngish-blond man in uniform clutching a very familiar watch.
Neither side said anything in their surprise until a fey mood made him speak.
"Well, the Navy's here!"
"FACE ME, YOU COWARD!" The Light Cruiser Princess screamed at the ocean.
Around her, the three remaining Tsu-class cruisers of her escort huddled closer to their mistress and refused to stray out of arms-reach. A tiny corner of the Princess' mind dared to whisper that the fear was understandable given their fleetmates' fate, but the rest demanded they kill the interloper. But, as had become horrifyingly apparent once the mutant aviation battleship vanished beneath the waves, there was no escape for them.
The Princess' destroyers had vanished first, those that hadn't been sunk by the marauding aircraft vanishing without a trace beneath the waves. She cursed herself for ignoring their demise in favour of hunting for the interloper because she'd lost two-thirds of her escorts before someone raised the alarm. Ordering her subordinates to focus on depth charging had left them all open to those damnable turboprop aircraft and their torpedos that had claimed more hulls for the... a scream from one of the Tsu snapped her out of those thoughts.
"Help me!" The shell howled as the hands around her ankles dragged her underwater.
The Royal immediately opened fire on the water, as did the other cruisers, all having long run out of depth charges. Unfortunately, the 6" and 8" shells had no appreciable effect as the wailing Abyssal was inexorably pulled beneath the surface despite her sister's best efforts. Wary of a trap, the Light Cruiser Princess hung back as a cloud of steam erupted from the Tsu's flooded boilers before vacant eyes dipped underneath the roiling waves. But, in a terrifying break from the last kills, one of the remaining cruisers had a torpedo shoved down her throat where it detonated and decapitated her.
The final light cruiser blinked at the 16" turret that popped out of the ocean before it got blown in half at the waist.
In desperation, the Light Cruiser Princess tried to call upon her powers and crush the interloper (before it killed her, whispered a tiny voice), yet the fury of the Deep slipped from her grasp. Finally, realising her inevitable fate, she fell to her knees as the spilt fuel oil of her subordinates lapped against her hull as their bodies disappeared under the surface.
"No, no, no," she wailed, mental fingers futilely slipping through the well of power right there. "This can't be happening!"
Her hydrophone operators screamed in warning, but they were too late as thick, heavily armoured coils pinned the Royal in place as their owner slithered around to meet her fierce eyes. The interloper's oppressive domain attempted to force her into submission, but the junior Princess rallied her remaining reserves and spat in the mad bitch's eye.
"Kill me and be done with it, abomination," she hissed. "I will never serve you, on the Deep, I swear this!"
In response, the interloper placed a hand over the Royal's mouth and leaned in till they were nose to nose and breathing humid air through teeth filed to points.
"Good thing I wasn't planning to let you live..."
At least she'd die free...
"But I need a donor vessel to fix an old friend, and you've so kindly volunteered yourself~."
Her Captain shouted a warning as heavily-armed marines exited the interloper's hull and boarded the Royal by force. But it wasn't the sensation of her crew dying that had her inexplicably sympathising with the many humans she'd killed over the years.
No, that was down to watching engineering teams with cutting equipment following behind the boarding parties and scrapping the Princess before her own eyes.
The interloper said nothing as she began screaming, an expression like carved granite and just as emotional.
Well, that got just a little terrifying at the end there.
I debated on how to write this chapter and figured a split perspective thing worked best to capture how chaotic the entire thing was without getting bogged down in the minutae.
HMAS Vampire liked to think she'd seen some shit in her time, from the North Sea to the Pacific as a steel hull against the Jerries and Japanese, and then much the same as a shipgirl against the Abyssal cunts.
But then an Abyssal humanoid crab with a Sheffield accent turned up outside the improvised prison and acted as if it had never seen a shipgirl before. Vampire blankly stared at the creature, hoping that this was just some sort of nasty trick on the frigid bitches' part, but Toby beat her to the punch.
"This... This is a hallucination, right?" he groaned, injured hand grabbing a fistful of hair.
She nodded, believing that before anything else, but the crab glanced around in apparent confusion before hesitantly pointing at itself.
"You talking about me?" It asked in rough English. "Cause it sounds like you are."
That just made the Lieutenant Commander moan and slump against the wall with a worrying bonelessness. Alarmed, Vampire ignored the grinding of her shattered propellers and the shouting from the crab to drag herself to his side and gently grabbed the man's jaw. Her sole remaining floodlamp came online with a kick from a rating, but the destroyer's friend's eyes dilated as normal as the low-powered beam swept over them. His skin was feverish to the touch, though, but Toby's dazed expression mostly vanished as he blinked a few times then furrowed his brow.
"Vampire?"
The shipgirl grinned. "You dropped like a potato, Tobes, had me worried."
"Ah."
A rattle from the bars had her whirling to glare at the Abyssal... and his buddies who were scurrying around outside. Neither the beret-wearing crab nor the one providing radio for the former flinched from Vampire's reaction. Instead, the probable leader's eyestalks swivelled to stare at the handset in his pincers.
"If you can't get through to the Flag, then get Boa or Python on the line!" He covered the handset's microphone with a hand. "Hey, what did the man call you?"
Why was an Abyssal asking her that? "The name's HMAS Vampire, ya shitty mollusc", she growled. "C'mon over, and I'll tear ya... apart." The destroyer trailed off as every single crab in the vicinity gazed at her with absolute shock.
The leader's beret slipped off their smooth head before they jammed the headset against their ear. "Ignore my last, Major! We need a medical team and engineers from Uwi!" The crowd around the odd pair started murmuring to Vampire's confusion. "Because VAMPIRE'S here, that's why!"
Unless she was hallucinating (which shipgirls literally couldn't under any circumstances), the Abyssals outside the prison sounded excited? But, of course, that wasn't normal for the Deep-spawn, and the V-class knew better than most that strange was terrible when it came to them. Feeling a hand tap her shoulder, she glanced aside to see Toby weakly gesturing to the crowd outside.
"What's going on?" he asked. "Do they know you?"
Vampire could only shrug. "I've got no fuckin clue," she replied, warily eyeing the crabs approaching the bars. "Hey, fuckos, back off unless you want me to rip out your ugly guts!"
The pair chittered something far too close to 'we're just trying to help', for her liking before they grabbed the blockage and tried to rip the door off. Nothing happened to their surprise and Vampire's amusement, for they hadn't seen the Princess do nasty juju on the steel to prevent her from smashing her way out. Even though she was down to a single boiler, the destroyer was still more than powerful enough to remove human-strength blockages.
The prisoners sat in uneasy silence with their backs to the wall as the crowd of Abyssals outside grew beyond the initial crab soldiers. Far more were full-sized than Vampire had ever seen in one place, to say nothing of the eclectic selection of abominations that all seemed to glance her way at least once before doing... something.
It involved a ton of running around and shouting orders, though, so at least that much was familiar.
But, just as Vampire ordered her remaining crew to grab anything to use as weapons for close-in action, there was a commotion from off to the right. She caught snippets of a girl's voice before the terrifying sight of a mini-Re slithered behind beret crab and looked in at the prisoners. The fully-clothed (another oddity the destroyer tallied) cruiser-weight ship cocked her head and turned to the soldier.
"Just tear the bars off, yeah?"
The crab nodded. "Without pulling the roof down on them, if you could."
"Aye, Aye, Brenny!" was the chipper response before the woman/snake/ship hybrid grabbed the door and ripped the entire thing away with one good tug. "Tada!"
Vampire fought to shield Toby from the insane miniature Abyssal when it inevitably attacked, except that wasn't what occurred. Instead, the cruiser's tail-mounted flight deck wiggled as she pursed her lips before dropping the alchemically-fortified barrier with a thump. They looked confused, for lack of a better word, though the shipgirl wasn't willing to take the chance with her friend's life on the line.
The mini-Re waved at the open doorway. "Do you not want to come out or something?" They attempted to come inside only to baulk when Vampire attacked.
Lacking any weapons, the V-class settled for cursing. "Fuck off, you crazy bitch! You're not getting him!"
She felt Toby stiffen behind her and begin to say something with a concerning sluggishness, but her attention was on the eerily human expression of hurt that crossed the aviation cruiser's face. The Naga's lower lip trembled before she abruptly burst into tears and darted out of view, crystal-clear sobbing fading as she left the vicinity and leaving Vampire behind struck dumb. She'd only cussed the Abyssal out, which had never phased the eldritch creatures before... yet this one had broken down and fled crying all the way?
"Her mum's not going to be happy about you insulting her, y'know that?" The beret crab remarked tersely.
Tobias peeked around Vampire. "Why..." he trailed off with a pained cough before recovering his voice. "Wait, her mum?"
He sounded baffled, and Vampire fully agreed with the reaction; Abyssals didn't have family, not as humans understood. Everyone knew the closest they got was sister-ships referring to each other as such, and even that was tenuous from intel reports.
The crab absently nodded. "I get you're both feeling like a dog's bollocks given the shape you're in, but Repulse dotes on Boa and Python..."
"Hold on," Vampire interrupted. "Did you just say Repulse?"
One of the watching Abyssals with a Webley revolver chittered something along the lines of 'are these two for real?' and received a confused shrug from Mr Beret. Unfortunately, the former prisoners missed the byplay as they were too busy looking at each other with a blend of disbelief, denial and perhaps a tiny sliver of hope. Repulse and Prince of Wales and a few others had resisted British summoning attempts ever since the practice became known. Though why would the Renown-class battlecruiser be alongside Abyssals, unless... the abrupt silence from outside had Vampire looking out the door then up... past enormous fuel bunkers to the face of the mutant Re she'd watched duel with Princess' fleet and win.
The dark blue-purple mottling of bruises reflecting failed shell penetrations across her chest, arms and face didn't detract from the aviation battleship's sheer presence... and size; seriously, they were somehow thicker up close. Toby swallowed heavily, and the V-class followed suit, recognising the massive discrepancy in power between one crippled destroyer and her human friend against that. Yet, as the Re observed them in silence, her flat expression slowly began crumbling until fat, heavy tears were rolling down their soft face.
One moment Vampire was freaking the hell out; the next, her head was enveloped between two incredibly soft mountains that left her biting back a curse as her crippled rigging was justled. But, before she could start fighting to escape, a hand began gently stroking her silver hair with undeniable tenderness.
"Tell me who hurt you, Vampire," the Re whispered into her hair. "And I'll tear them apart as they scream for mercy."
"Leggo of me!" That was what the shipgirl tried to say, but her current predicament rendered her words unintelligible.
The hands bracing her shifted and briefly squeezed hard enough for a few rivets to creak. Alarmed, Vampire tried once again to escape before the crazy Abyssal kept speaking.
"I told Boa that you didn't mean the words you called her; she doesn't understand how traumatic damage like yours is." Yet, annoyingly, the Re's gentle stroking was somewhat enjoyable. "I've got engineers that can make do your damage... But, unfortunately, I can't say the same for Lieutenant Williamson."
Lieutenant Commander Tobias Williamson's lament about the comparison with his great-grandfather had Vampire quasi-hysterically laughing into Repulse's fuel bunkers, her friend's denials strident and undoubtedly hurting his bust ribs. Of course, she'd made the same damn mistake the first time she'd laid eyes on the officer during Blood Week, but at least he'd been a Lieutenant back then. Privately regretting making the comparison at least once a week for shits and giggles came back to bite the silver-haired destroyer as laughter hurt her ability to cry.
The only other shipgirl who could have made that mistake was Repulse... which meant one of the missing British battlecruisers had been turned into a bloody massive mutant Re-class. And, as Vampire realised the Naga wasn't releasing her any time soon, they remembered enough about their steel hull life to recognise her on sight. The entire thing was a shitshow from her level all the way up to the Admiralty, and the shipgirl knew the battlecruiser-turned-aviation battleship wasn't going to make it an easy process.
But, as she let Repulse's comforting aura lull her crew to stand down from condition one, at least their hugs were second to none among the capital ships.
HMS Shark's Captain kept one eye on the approaching islands where probable danger awaited and the other on his grim-faced XO where real danger lurked. The junior officer had argued long and hard about the foolhardy nature of the plan, quite stridently about the parts where they had no backup. Still, they'd eventually caved with a final 'wait until I say I told you so' and muttered to themselves all the way from Uwi to the archipelago's southern-most landmasses.
It was a treacherous maze of tiny spurs of land bordering larger islands that were also teeming with Innie destroyers.
Unfortunately for the enemy, their Princess had been killed in a spine-tingling show of bloodshed and glorious violence that left Shark's crew trembling with energy as they prepared to claim refuge in audacity!
The XO snorted, rolling his compound eyes in the universal derisive gesture.
As revenge for the conduct unbecoming an officer, the Captain stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry.
Shark's slow pace towards the nearest cluster of radio signals gave the bridge crew plenty of time to devolve into childish antics that suited their playful ship perfectly. None were worried about dying and being reclaimed by the Deep, not with the lighthouse beacon of Repulse's soul forever showing them the way home should death claim them. The Captain flicked one last paper ball at his XO before letting the True Princess' domain wash over him in a gentle tide of clashing steel and daring-do!
He blamed Brenny for making him embrace being part of the Royal Navy so eagerly.
Innie destroyers inbound, the lookout cried from above.
The half-dozen Ni-class that leapt through the waves with predatory intent was a far cry from the sleek lines of HMS Shark. Two weeks of raiding (and their Mistress' nigh-universal disregard for her destroyer's wellbeing) caused the Innies to slow their attack runs as the difference between the two groups became painfully apparent. Shark had fresh paint adorning her hull, alert and trained crew operating her equipment and 5" turrets that hummed with electric traverse and elevation. Her sister-ships bore patchy coatings, fouling along their keels, and the imps visible on their decks were haggard and depressing mirrors of their ship's low supplies.
The Captain was rewarded as the dichotomy between the Innie fleet and his Royal Navy vessel had the shark/machine hybrids chuffing as they curiously circled Shark. At the same time, the crews leaned over the nearest railings perked up as the Captain accepted a truce flag from a waiting middie, left the bridge and planted the flag on his ship's bow.
And, as he'd predicted, one by one, the Innies ceased circling and hung in a semi-circle within a stone's throw and well within gunnery range. So, drawing strength from Brenny's teachings, Repulse's wisdom and the Royal Navy's traditions, he stood up and addressed his fellow Destroyermen.
Your Princess is dead, he began without preamble, slain in battle against the Liberator, HMS Repulse of the Royal Navy!
Dull resignation greeted him at the first announcement, which was expected given every Abyssal in the archipelago had heard the Light Cruiser Princess' dying screams. Nevertheless, numerous drawn faces perked up with a shadow of interest (including one grouchy XO, the Captain noted with a hidden smirk) as he spoke of the aviation superdreadnought Repulse.
He gestured towards a random Ni-class, pointing out how badly they'd fallen apart under the control of the Princess, wasting away before the Royal Navy even attacked. Why was that, he questioned when by all accounts, the old ruler had no shortage of supplies to keep her very dead escort cruisers topped off. The Captain ignored the XO's grumblings about 'being a bloody showoff' and hid his grin as angry murmuring broke out across the Innie destroyers. Only when it looked like the officers were about to break it up did he strike!
Because the Princess didn't give two shits about your welfare, he cried loud enough to stun everyone to silence.
Then, jumping off his seat, he stalked down to the fore twin 5" turret and placed a hand on one barrel before continuing in a much softer tone. The life of a Destroyerman is one of hardship and sacrifice for superiors that tossed you aside if you slipped up once. His compound eyes tracked the interest written on every face he could see, which numbered to the hundreds at the least. We were threatened with scrapping daily, he shouted, and what was our rewards for a job well done?
He let the question hang in the air and wondered who'd dare to take the bait and speak up.
Abuse and service to coldhearted monsters no better than the humans!
A Captain, his blackened bones lingering within the hazy outline of a body, pushed through his shocked crew to meet the Captain's insect eyes with smouldering pits of hellfire. How different could this Repulse be from the other Princess', they demanded with gnashing teeth, when they'd all seen her drag destroyers underwater never to be seen again.
The question briefly stumped Shark's commander, but he pushed off the 5" turret and walked towards the bow to be closer to his courageous compatriot. However, Repulse is different; he explained with patriotism that resonated with the lighthouse guiding his spirit, for she comes from the peaceful Land of Tea, Milk and Honey.
What's the Land of Tea, Milk and Honey? The question came from a great many throats, a subtle undercurrent of hope steadily eroding the nihilism endemic to Abyysal destroyer crews.
In response, the Captain waved towards the bridge and waited for a middie to deliver a cup of tea, a jug of milk and a small pot of honey. Then, carefully pouring the milk into his tea, he added a dollop of golden tastiness and began explaining to his captive audience.
The Land of Tea, Milk and Honey, he explained with great reverence, dwells within the Isle of Albion, whose Queen Repulse and every Royal Navy ship serve. The Captain finished making the cup of tea and called for the other commanders to come aboard and sample the holy brew and continued his story as the Innies went for their motor launches. When a destroyer and their crew find their service ending, he intoned, their spirits are protected from the Deep and brought to a realm where the seas were calm, the rum ration was plentiful, and they were at true peace. The Land of Tea, Milk and Honey was forever guarded by Winnie of the Pooh, a gentle titan who never had a bad word to say about any Destroyerman's performance.
The mere prospect of such a mythical realm caused more than a few Innies to faint.
That just made the remainder intently follow their commanding officers as the six of them accepted hands up onto Shark's deck and filed towards the bow. Not one of them jostled the other, and the Captain approached his skeletal counterpart and offered a sip from the Holy Tea. Then, seeing their reluctance, he laid a flipper on their bony shoulder and said the words that Brenny had told him on that fateful night.
You're free now, he whispered, free from the chains that bind you.
The other commander released a keening wail but carefully gripped the Holy Tea and poured a measure into the void of his throat. Shark trembled beneath the Captain as the powerless Deep lost its fey grip on the Innie's spirit and that of their crew, prompting a worn but presentable Royal Navy uniform to settle over the ghostly skeleton. Their compatriots gurgled in surprise as the newly commissioned commander of HMS Kitefin snapped a genuine salute for the first time in his existence and flashed a rictus grin.
Was putting your rum ration in the Holy Tea permissible? He questioned with a nod towards the cup.
The Captain pulled a flask from his belt and poured a measure into the tea in response. So long as you don't drink enough to be hungover on duty, he chuckled before offering the cup to the next commander in line.
So it was, sip by tiny sip, that the squadron of Innie escorts transferred their allegiance and loyalty to the Liberator, HMS Repulse, Albion's Monarch and faith in the Land of Tea, Milk and Honey. To the outside world, the languid shifting of the Ni-class destroyers abruptly vanished as they began to dance and frolic around the incredibly smug grin of HMS Shark and her fabulous Union Jack bandana. She was more than happy to follow her Captain's orders to take the lead and guide the newly commissioned Royal Navy destroyers towards their new homeport.
A commotion from the bay had me glancing away from the sleeping forms of HMAS Vampire and Lieutenant Commander (got to remember the difference) Tobias Williamson to see Shark leading a gaggle of fellow destroyers towards the docks. The adorable little tyke barked happily as she spotted me watching and guided her cute little flotilla in a mini fleet review that had me giggling.
I'd felt the moment she'd convinced the newcomers to abandon their dead Princess, but I hadn't expected them to be so enthusiastic about the change in leadership. But, chalking it down to destroyers being destroyers, I briefly scanned the port and the crew starting the first of many repairs before checking on my newest guests.
I thanked Queen Elizabeth II for guiding my fellow Force Z ship and a descendent of one of my crew to my care, for who else could have arranged the perfect series of events? So, letting my thoughts drift, my fingers rubbed against the armour plate I'd had my crew fashion as a vambrace for my right arm. It was the only part of the Light Cruiser Princess I'd set aside for non-repair purposes, the rest slated for Vampire's reconstruction when she awoke to help plan the task.
It felt fitting to turn a part of such a vicious and cruel monster into a means of shielding others from harm, something that bitch had never done in life. I caught my Captain muttering something that suspiciously sounded like 'you're just wanting to look pretty, you daft ship' before going back to his after-action report. I softly chuckled as to not disturb my guests before carefully slithering out of the impromptu medical building and turning on the spot to survey my new domain. Once I razed the corrupted structures and salted the earth, there might be just enough room for a training facility...
I had a feeling I'd be needing a lot more marine infantry in the coming days, weeks and months.
A large bottle of moonshine, a waterlogged and half-illegible copy of Winnie the Pooh and two mad bastards called Shark's Captain and Brenny caused this.
Consciousness returned slowly to Jia Xin, and not just because dropping unconscious was an incredibly rare occurrence for Abyssals and shipgirls.
Clutching his oversized head and whimpering, her Captain jerked upright, smashed headfirst into the above bulkhead and crashed to the floor, cursing up a storm. Wincing as the sub's lighting hurt his eyes, he wondered how in the Deep he'd ended up in the fore torpedo room and why one of the launchers was insulting his ancestry and its relation to sea slugs. Then, not quite all there and stepping over the stirring crewmembers laying around, he wrenched open the hatch to find the XO staring at him.
The Captain stayed silent in the interest of self-preservation as the bug-like officer extracted himself from the tube and wordlessly left the compartment. As the XO got to work, a furious tirade erupted from deeper within the submarine, rousing the hungover crew lying about in various states of consciousness. The Captain merely applied his steel-toed boot to a few choice rumps and got the seamen stumbling towards their posts. Only once they got to work returning the Ka to a semblance of normalcy did he feel Jia Xin's presence return as she awoke.
That was the last time he ate that much chocolate in one sitting, he muttered to himself.
Even before Jia Xin opened her eyes, she'd surreptitiously checked that her deck gun's angle of fire was clear and had the crew prepping to leap out of the hatches and open fire. The bed she awoke on felt odd to the submarine, but she ignored minor stuff like that in favour of listening to the voices in the room. A girl's voice was most prominent, her accent Australian with a solid British undertone that served as a foil to the pure Australian man's accent speaking somewhat louder.
Jia couldn't comprehend it, though, because someone slept on the Hydrophone station and forgot to recalibrate it!
Clarity returned alongside a chastised apology from the seaman responsible for the incident.
"I appreciate the offer, Repulse," the girl apologised. "But it's... fuck, a little help here, Tobes?"
"She's trying to say that fixing the damage with Abyssal parts isn't allowed by the Admiralty," the male smoothly explained.
Jia resisted the urge to sit up when the strangers mentioned the A-word. Of course, the only people that used the term were the British, but Repulse having humans wherever here was seemed silly given she hadn't been out that long. The Ka's crew hadn't reported any changes in the ship's logbook... wait, her entire crew had gotten themselves high on meth and then blackout drunk with booze!
There wouldn't be any records.
Her eyes snapped open as she ceased silent running to find herself in a storeroom converted to a cramped place for a half dozen timeworn beds and a couple of chairs. One of the former was occupied by a teenage girl that Jia knew was a Kanmusu the instant she laid eyes on the damaged rigging, though the missing legs made her sympathetically wince. The destroyer's heavy overcoat shifted as she propped herself higher to stare up at Repulse. The Re Hime's upper torso was lousy with purple/black bruising from an incredible number of failed penetrations, yet she displayed no pain as she leant down and met the shipgirl's eyes.
Wait, was that tears in her eyes?
"Ships have been scrapped after suffering less damage than you, Vampire." She reached out and gently ran a hand through the girl's silver hair. "I won't let anyone harm you; you have my word."
Vampire... Why did that sound familiar? Jia's crew started searching for her warbook, but the still-unseen man spoke and distracted her from the search.
A cough from the far side of Repulse drew her attention. "Nobody scraps shipgirls, Repulse, for military, logistical, morale reasons... I can spend all day listing them if you want?"
"That won't be necessary, Lieutenant Commander; I trust your word."
The Ka found herself scowling as the superwide Hime gave her trust to some random who hadn't endured their enhanced domain, driving them to eat meth like candy. Her scowl turned into a pained grimace as Repulse shifted aside and let her see the blond human man with a painful-looking plaster around his torso. Deep below, what could a human have possibly done to earn the Princess' acceptance?
So, of fucking course, said royal's head snapped towards Jia before they navigated their deceptively agile bulk past the beds to sweep her up in a smothering hug. She didn't mind because she'd immediately switched to stored air, but the sub's confusion about the situation distracted from the pillowy goodness her face was rammed into. Thus, reluctantly, she tapped Repulse's arm until her head was extracted into the open air.
"What happened?"
There, an excellent simple question...
"I killed the Innie Princess and took control of the Archipelago and found that they'd been holding Vampire and Lieutenant Commander Tobias prisoner."
Talk about a loaded answer, Jia thought to herself before something in Repulse's tone had her studying the larger ship's expression. Looking past the bruises, plush lips and delightfully soft cheeks... A 'cool down' shout from her crew had the Ka struck dumb as she regretfully quit fantasising about Repulse.
"What, uh, what happened to the Light Cruiser Princess?" Jia questioned. "Are they...."
"Thick Snek there cut the pale cunt apart while she was still alive!" The destroyer, Vampire, crowed.
She was of two minds about the shipgirl's interruption. On the one hand, they'd dared to involve themselves between Jia and the vision of (slightly unhinged) beauty that was Repulse, and she hated them for that. But, as she watched the Princess' face light up as she turned to smile at Vampire, their name for the royal was... well, it was incredibly accurate.
And Repulse looked far nicer when smiling than crying her eyes out and flooding the room with grief.
"Oh! I almost forgot to do introductions," the Re Hime exclaimed and held Jia against her side before waving to the strangers. "Vampire, Lieutenant Commander, this is Jia Xin, emissary of Singapore!" She didn't seem aware that her fuel bunkers were cushioning the sub's head. "Jia, this is Lieutenant Commander Tobias Williamson of the Royal Australian Navy," the blond grimaced at Jia. "And this is HMAS Vampire, also of the Royal Australian Navy and a fellow member of Force Z."
The destroyer's glare was hot enough to melt steel, not that Jia noticed as she was too busy kicking herself for ignoring the primer Singapore gave on Repulse's fleet mates! How in the Deep had she forgotten, and what were the chances that this specific shipgirl was the Light Cruiser Princess' prisoner?
Seriously, the chances were infinitesimal!
The human officer raised a hand. "Repulse, mind if I ask a blunt question?"
"Go ahead!"
"Why do you have a Ka-class submarine pressed against your," here, his cheeks dusted red. "Well, your chest?"
Repulse cocked her head and glanced down at Jia. "I don't understand the question?"
"She's an Abyssal, and you sunk an entire fleet of those a few days ago."
The confusion in this guy's face and tone was downright adorable, prompting the Ka to flash him a cheeky smirk. That earned her a toothy snarl from the crippled Vampire, though the sound felt less aggressive and more... defensive? Was that the right word?
"I sunk a fleet of Innies, Sir," Repulse answered and made the Australian's look confused. "Jia here pushed herself to the breaking point to contact me on behalf of Singapore and deliver news of the King's passing." The Princess' body stiffened, but she recovered ably. "I owe her a debt for that service, and bringing her back to health barely counts towards that goal."
But, alas, a radio signal that Jia's crew struggled to pick up, let alone decode, caused Repulse to lower her to the floor. The Ka gazed forlornly at the pillowy goodness she'd been pulled away from, but she stiffened as the Re Hime fixed everyone present with a stern look.
"I need to deal with some Innie holdouts on the southern islands, so I want no fighting while I'm gone, understood?"
"We're not looking to brawl," Tobias agreed while staring at his smouldering companion. "Isn't that right, Vampire?"
The destroyer growled.
"Right, Vampire?"
"Ugh, fine," the shipgirl spat before pointing at Jia. "But I'm gonna depth-charge your skinny aft if you even try and act all spooky."
Ignoring the insult, Jia held her hands up and addressed Repulse. "Singapore would scrap me if I ever thought of breaking hospitality," she admitted. "I'm not going to try anything."
"Wonderful!" Repulse clapped her hands. "In that case, Sergeant Brenny is outside should you need something while I'm gone."
One of the Princess' crab marines stuck their beret-covered head through the doorway and waved. Bemused, Jia hesitantly returned the wave and added the oddity to her rapidly growing list of things weird about Repulse. The capital ship in question soon took her leave, leaving the Ka mulling over the discoveries she'd picked up since awakening. Most revolved around the shipgirl and her human ally muttering to each other on the far side of the room, though just as many centred on a certain aviation superdreadnought and how amazing their hugs were.
Jia spent a good few minutes (against her crew's strident protests) fantasising about the squishy embrace and what else was soft before she heard someone sit down with a pained grunt. So, reluctantly drawn back to reality, she warily side-eyed the destroyer glaring at her as the human dragged another chair alongside.
"Ignore Vampire; she's grouchy about you getting close to Repulse before her," Tobias began with a curt nod towards the shipgirl. "We're both aware that there's something different about Repulse..."
"Wow, how observant," Jia snarked. "Was it the fact she's an aviation superdreadnought that clued you in, or maybe that she sees nothing wrong with eating other Abyssals?"
"We're trying to be diplomatic, fuckface," Vampire snapped.
Tobias groaned. "Look, I don't want to be chatting with an Abyssal, but Singapore's on the Neutral list for a damn good reason." He glared at the V-class and Ka until they grumbled ascent. "You're the only other person on this island that knows about Repulse, and that means a lot more than spending God knows how long hating your guts for being an Abyssal."
Jia observed the human officer under a new light, as much from his pragmatism as the way he could cow a Kanmusu destroyer with a few words and a glare. So, intrigued and willing to bend a few conventions in the interest of gaining intel (and relieving the mind-numbing boredom she was experiencing), the sub retrieved a bottle of scotch from her swimsuit and three shot glasses. Favouring the surprised pair with a smirk, Jia poured a measure into each glass and returned the bottle.
"I don't know much more than you do," she admitted as her reluctant companions eyed the glasses. "But you'll need the booze for what I do know."
Ordinary people (sane people) didn't immediately grab the scotch and knock it back without a word, but that's precisely what Vampire and Tobias did. Jia recognised the behaviour of someone who'd seen too much shit and provided refills that were consumed just as quickly. Only when the pair were four shots down did they cease gazing at the alcohol and give the Ka their attention.
This was going to be fun.
I listened with half an ear as my Captain read out the damage reports while I sailed towards the troublespot and the Innies dug in there.
"There's some worrying buckling on the armour plate just aft of the machinery spaces, but nothing penetrated," he moved onto the next page and sighed. "We're down sixteen Bofor mounts in all, seven of the quads and nine of the twins. The Oerlikons lost a solid third of their number between shrapnel, direct impacts or fractures, but they're far easier replaced than the forty mike-mikes."
While I knew all this, it helped to have my Captain lay it out to ground the feelings. "What about my artillery?"
"Much better, all told," his crimson lenses glinted, and he gave the impression of a smile. "Port-seven suffered a jam from a nearby impact, and Starboard-one lost electric traverse for a time, but, to our supplies' relief, you didn't loose any."
I shook my head at the play full jab at my appetite and smiled, taking the offered levity and good news as intended. Yet, as I watched my Captain move to aircraft losses, I shook my head and sent a negative pulse his way.
"I'll not force you to read the CAG's handwriting; nobody deserves that," I blatantly deflected. "How's the special prisoner holding up?"
"In health terms, or resistance?"
Directing Shark's destroyer squadron to slow as we entered effective gunnery range, I mulled over the choice for a time as my radio team went about finding the Innie's frequencies.
"Resistance," I decided.
Here, my Captain was less joking but traded it for bloodlust. "He's spilt the beans as far as the Major can tell. Things looked dicey after you finished off the Light Cruiser Princess, we're settling on LCP for official reports, by the way, but her Captain's given us everything he knew."
"Good. We'll convene a military tribunal back at port and try them under the charges of Piracy, to name the vilest offence."
A number among my crew protested that just shooting the bastards in the head was much easier, but I shut that down as the radio crew latched onto a signal.
"There are nearly a hundred guilty officers among the Innie crew we captured, Gentlemen; we do this by the book or not at all." A call for condition one had the mumbling cease as I opened up a channel. "Attention all Insurrectionist holdouts in the archipelago, this is the aviation battleship HMS Repulse."
The terse chattering going on over close-range sets dried up instantly, leaving the channel venting empty air to both my receiver sets and whoever was holed up on this island. There was no movement visible, but I wasn't expecting any given the dense tropical forest endemic to this region's landmasses. Scouting reports and the LCP's Captain's admissions confirmed there were two heavy cruisers at large presently, and these Innies were smart enough to avoid opening fire as the fanatics had.
Seeing their fleetmates get bombarded and torn apart likely fed into their caution... the Wyvern flight circling the island didn't help matters.
Eventually, preceded by an odd flutter to my esoteric senses, a voice responded. "What do you want?"
"Your surrender, preferably if at all possible," I honestly responded. "Without any fire exchanged."
"Bullshit!" Another identical voice snapped. "We saw what you did to the Princess' fleet, you monster!"
I sighed and ran a hand down my face to drown out the 'let's blast em' shouts coming from certain quarters (read, the gunnery crews). Then, taking refuge in the lack of incoming naval artillery being a willingness to talk, I kept going.
"I took prisoners from the ship's crews whenever possible during that battle, ladies," I called out. "I don't expect you to believe me, but I'm not one to punish a ship for the actions of their commanding officer."
A disbelieving snort erupted across the channel before the hidden cruisers engaged in a spirited and encoded back and forth that my radio teams were struggling to decrypt. It wasn't a language barrier; I could understand everything my crew had known during their lives, yet I had a feeling the Light Cruiser Princess had done something to spite me in her dying moments.
The channel crackled. "What guarantees do I have that you won't scrap me like the old Princess always threatened?"
"You're not betraying the Princess!"
As the second heavy cruiser shouted, the amalgam form of an Innie cruiser walked out from the treeline with her hands up. Able Rating Chompy twisted to lay his turrets onto the second cruiser that emerged with their weapons deployed and aimed... at their companion. The destroyers surrounding me growled simultaneously at the sight, but I waved a hand to calm the shark hybrids down.
There was no mistaking a hostage situation.
1.7-mile range, no movement from the target, information feeding to gun batteries.
The CIC's whisper brushed against my mind as I met the eyes of the hostage-taker, who glared with eyes that burned a tad too brightly for one of her class. The captive heavy cruiser stumbled as she reached the edge of the narrow beach, but an 8" barrel to the lower back kept her moving forwards. The poor thing knew she'd be dead before deploying her weapons, a fact her terrified expression made painfully clear.
"I'm not in the habit of treating with hostage-taking pirates," I called out to the distant pair.
"We're ABYSSALS, you insane bitch!" The armed heavy cruiser snarled. "You're going to let me go, or I'll shoot the traitor here in the ammunition racks as she deserves!"
"That'll kill you too..."
"Death in the service of the Deep is better than being eaten by you and your abominations!"
Ah, excellent, a fanatic smart enough to take a hostage so I wouldn't blast the cunt to tiny bits. I kept an eye on the twitchy and insane cruiser while Able turret selected their most accurate cannon to load while the other met the hostage's gaze. That heavy cruiser was identical to all the others I'd seen, vaguely feminine, corpse-white flesh in the few places that wasn't metal and preternaturally gaunt despite their 8,500-ton displacement. Her panicked eyes latched onto me, and I once more felt the odd tingle from my esoteric senses.
It felt like...
"She's trying to defect," my Captain addressed the bridge. "God above, that cruiser's really willingly defecting."
Biting my lip, I knew nothing I'd say would have the fanatic leaving her hostage alive, especially if I dared risk her taking sail. Of course, trying a precision shot with a 16" cannon was all sorts of foolhardy, but I wasn't really flush with options here.
"Wyverns?" I softly asked my Captain.
"The bitch would spot them coming a mile away, literally."
"Sneaking a boarding party ashore to attack her?"
He shook his head. "Too slow, she'd have killed the defector before the party reached the shore."
"Guess it's the Hail Mary then." Then, over the open channel. "May the hand of Queen Elizabeth II guide your shell."
The fanatic opened her mouth, but that's as far as she got before Chompy abruptly flicked sideways and gave Able turret a clear shot. Fire erupted from the central barrel as the powder charge expelled a 16" high explosive shell weighing a tonne in the direction of the enemy vessel. I screwed my eyes shut in preparation for the shot missing or worse, hitting the hostage, yet I dared open them when cheers erupted across my hull.
The hostile cruiser stumbled and fell backwards, quickly losing her balance and falling over... missing everything above the neck. The defector raised trembling hands to her face, unseeing eyes tracking me as I made my best speed towards the beach and the vulnerable cruiser. I reached her right as her legs gave out, saving the poor thing from falling face-first into the fuel oil from her former compatriot. The Innie trembled in my arms, the tenous fleet bond waxing and waning until, after a worryingly long period of fading, solidified.
"C'mon," I whispered. "Let's get you home."
"Betcha Repulse is going to turn that Tsu into a carrier," Jia slurred as she waved towards the approaching pair.
Vampire hiccuped and went cross-eyed. "Nah, they're gonna be a battleship!
"You're both wrong," Tobias noted with the bleary wisdom of a man deep in his cups. "They're gonna be both."
Repulse wasn't sure why the three were shitfaced and on the dockside giggling like crazy people, but she was happy to see them getting on together.
This felt like a good stopping point; apologies for it being shorter than my standard chapter length.
Brenny considered himself a reasonably chill Royal Marine.
He was happy so long as his kit was up to date, his superiors listened when he warned them about dumb shit, and, most important of all, his rum ration was on time and not watered down. Of course, Brenny wasn't happy when he didn't get any of those things, but now he badly wanted to wring the fishy neck of whoever shoved this steaming pile of shit into the hands of soldiers and sailors.
The marine grabbed one of the said pieces of junk off the table and glared at it with the hope it would spontaneously burst into flames.
"Why, in the name of God's hairy ballsack, is this," he shook the rusted Type 38 rifle. "The weapon your sailors have for defence?"
Lilly, the Tsu that Repulse had brought home like a lost puppy, cringed and avoided Brenny's gaze despite having the power to squash him like a bug if she so wished. The poor thing was far too timid for his liking, and he swiftly ceased glaring in favour of tossing the busted rifle onto the table where its stock promptly fell off. But, unfortunately, the former Innie cruiser recoiled from the wet-sounding crack and stared at her feet silently.
Brenny sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to say your crew isn't good. I'm guessing that's all you got issued?"
Lilly glanced upwards and shyly nodded.
"Right, okay, lemme think for a minute," he requested before considering the rotten mess on the armoury table.
Having an actual armoury with the attached small-arms workshop was a godsend after several weeks fucking around the Uwi's lacking facilities. Brenny wasn't insulting the machine shop crew for their work, far from it. Still, no amount of improvisation with Repulse's fabbing machines could compare to being able to produce proper spec weapons and ammunition. Yet he couldn't rightfully figure out how to repair a couple hundred wrecked Type 38 rifles when the damn things were shit without the damage. The marine might as well just issue new... rifles.
"Hold on a moment, Missy," he told Lilly.
Then, with a claw on his beret to keep the headwear on his head, Brenny sprinted from the room and gave exactly zero fucks about everyone he ran into in the halls. He jumped between a pair of ambulatory amoeba carrying an Oerlikon between them to much cursing before the clamour of the machine shop drowned them out. The Royal Marine threaded his way past the heavy machinery and the weapons being turned out in wonderfully large numbers before finding the crab he was looking for bent over a testing bench.
Brenny clapped his fellow marine on the shoulder. "Bob, I'm gonna have to borrow your rifle for a bit."
"The fuck, Sarge?" Bob exclaimed. "You know I was gonna take this out to the range today!"
The EM-2 bullpup cradled in the marine's arms hadn't even had its wooden furniture polished yet, but the weapon wasn't any less suitable for that fact. The NCO gave his reluctant subordinate a stern look that promised many a night of latrine duty before the other crustacean released a melodramatic groan and handed the rifle over.
"You gonna nick it like that without telling me what you want it for?" Bob groused.
Brenny gave the EM-2 an appreciative glance. "Lilly's crew are armed with rusted to shit Type 38s; I'm going to issue these instead."
His subordinate flinched as if struck and clicked his mouthparts in sympathetic pain for the poor sods who had to use those weapons.
"I'll bribe the fab crews to make me another, Sarge," Bob nodded towards the bullpup. "Ammo's in the container by the door."
"Cheers, Corporal!"
One quite happy Royal Marine left the workshop with a webbing full of .280 British magazines and the EM-2 hanging over his shoulder where his Bren gun usually sat. He had to adjust his stride a bit to adjust for the lighter weight, but Brenny was downright swaggering as he returned and handed the bullpup to a confused Lilly with a cheery...
"Here's your crew's new rifle, Miss."
She hesitantly grabbed the modern weapon and immediately fixated on the non-standard magazine placement.
"I thought magazines had to go in front of the trigger?" she questioned softly as if frightened of Brenny's response. "How does this work?"
Did she...? No, Brenny told himself as he retrieved the EM-2, the Innies likely never told her about modern weapons. It was just one more reason to add to the mountain of things he hated those occultist bastards for, chief among them their treatment of warships.
He racked the charging handle and pointed to the receiver. "If you put the receiver behind the trigger like this, it lets you have a full-length rifle barrel while making the weapon shorter." Brenny flipped the gun and showed Lilly the butt. "It means you have to put the recoil spring inside the stock, but that gets you the shorter overall length and helps with felt recoil."
The cruiser's soft blue eyes lit up. "A carbine variant would be perfect for combat inside hulls!"
"Exactly, Miss, though as of now, we just have the full rifle version to arm your crew with."
Lilly froze, her excited expression freezing before her entire hull abruptly tensed, and Brenny realised he was dangerously close to the emotionally fragile Tsu. But, rather than back away, he stood his ground and avoided making any sudden movements except for making sure the EM-2s barrel was pointing away from anyone. Sure, the rifle was unloaded, but not even the threat of imminent squishing would keep the marine from practising good weapon safety.
He was a Royal Marine, not an illiterate Squaddie!
"Y-You..." Lilly stammered before sucking in a deep breath. "You're giving these to my e-entire crew?"
Brenny bobbed an eyestalk. "Once we get your lot trained upon using them, yeah. I ain't high enough on the chain to know what upgrades Repulse is giving you, mind," he shrugged and handed the rifle back. "But there's no harm in getting some work in even if your hull is gonna change a ton."
The Tsu squeaked like a punctured boiler. "She never mentioned anything about changing my hull!"
"Miss, mind coming with me a moment?"
"O-Okay?"
Brenny figured the quasi-question was good enough for military purposes, threw the EM-2 over his shoulder and put an arm around Lilly's narrow shoulders. Occultist bullshit let him guide several thousand tons of unresisting heavy cruiser out of the converted storeroom and entirely out of the armament building. The sheer number of Royal Navy personnel of all ranks and specialities never failed to surprise the marine as he made sure nobody got close enough to jostle Lilly. That proved a wise choice as they navigated beyond the modest armament complex and onto the streets of Naval Base George.
Little remained of the Light Cruiser Princess' unwelcome occupation, though many buildings were still in the midst of being torn down and rebuilt to proper navy standard. Brenny gave a cheery wave towards a squad of marines off Boa, but the crazy buggers were too busy rolling down the nearby hill to notice him and his companion. He shook his head at their antics and briefly racked his brain to recall where the 'Teardown Crew' had set up shop...
Oh, right, down by the docks.
"I'm a fuckin tool," he muttered.
Lilly glanced his way. "D-Did you say something?"
"Just cursing myself for being a dumbass, Miss." Brenny bobbed his head. "C'mon, I'll show you how the upgrade crew works their magic."
Admittedly said upgrade crew would protest about mislabeling their hard work like magic, but he'd seen the bullshit they pulled off in that shed and knew it was magic juju of some kind. Still, the marine kept that useless thought inside his head as he reached the building overlooking the decently-sized docks and waved at the sailor on duty.
"I'm just showing Miss Lilly the blueprint room, Seaman," he said.
The sea slug/fish hybrid gestured down the hall with a flipper. "Ah'l tell the Petty Officer ya went on through, Sah."
From there, it was a short jaunt past a few scurrying sailors, and engineers before the marine NCO poked his head through the signed door to find it empty of nosy interlopers. He pulled Lilly inside before shutting and locking the door, then went to work looking through the badly-assembled shelves and their rolled contents. Brenny groaned as he took in the absolute anarchy of the engineer's filing system and set upon opening drawers at random.
Blueprints for a battleship with far too many guns; shoved back inside.
One for an upgrade for Repulse herself that added more fuel bunkering... Brenny admired the enhanced lines before putting that one back.
He cocked his head upon seeing blueprints for an upgrade for Vampire of all ships, though then again, that made sense given her current damage.
"Ah, found it!" he cried, withdrawing a blueprint helpfully labelled 'Big Tsu'. "Grab something to weigh this down."
Lilly turned up half a dozen shells casings the size of her arm and used them to keep the blueprint from curling back up as Brenny stretched it out. At first glance, he saw why the Teardown crew had labelled this blueprint the way they had; it really was a Tsu class writ large. Superfiring 9.2" turrets in a 3x2 arrangement, a dozen 4" secondaries, good British torpedoes replacing the oxygen torps with the tendency to explode and oodles more armour to keep it all well-protected. Brenny cocked his head and walked around the table to see it from every angle while Lilly was oddly silent, given this was one of the (likely many) upgrades on offer.
"Why is the displacement so heavy?!" Lilly squeaked.
Confused, the marine glanced at the notated displacement and suddenly understood. "Huh, twenty-six thousand tons is lighter than I figured. The more you know, I guess?"
"I displace seven!" the cruiser hissed, a slim hand jabbing at the offending blueprint. "That's nearly four times my current displacement!"
Brenny didn't get the issue and said as such.
"Repulse is six times heavier than that, Miss Lilly."
"What?!"
He scratched his beret to buy himself time to remember. "Yeah, she's like, north of hundred fifty thousand, something close to that." The marine shrugged and waved at the stupified heavy cruiser. "I'd go for this if I was you; an armour belt this good is always better than that 'speed is armour' crap."
For some weird reason, Miss Lilly wasn't reassured by Brenny's recommendations in the slightest.
"I do apologise for not saving some of these delightful snacks for you, Lieutenant Commander."
Tobias waved off my apology with an oddly stiff expression, his eyes briefly darting below my face before he turned red and corrected the mistake. I glanced down to see a distinct lack of anything that might have attracted his attention before shrugging and chomping down on the MRE's package. The plastic and foil were eagerly accepted by my Quartermaster, though he'd been much less insistent regarding supplies since we captured what had become Naval Base George.
Something to discuss with my Captain once he'd finished swearing in the new Ensigns, I suppose.
"Where the fuck do you put it all?" Vampire demanded.
My fellow member of Force Z rolled her wheelchair into my office (a luxury I never expected to have!) before gesturing in the direction of my midriff. I couldn't see that part of my hull, mind, but I hurriedly twisted to see if anything marred the double-breasted shirt I'd had a few handsy sailors put together. The garment protested the movement with many straining seams, but it held... for now.
"I can't rightfully see what you're speaking about, Vampire," I apologetically responded. "Would you mind explaining?"
The destroyer facepalmed. "The food, Repulse; I'm talkin about the damn food."
"I don't follow."
Vampire went to get out of her chair, but Tobias was there to inexplicably clamp a hand over the silver-haired destroyer's mouth and stifled whatever she'd intended to say. I watched the pair exchange some manner of non-verbal communication through eye movements and expressions before the wounded Shipgirl sighed and fell back onto her wheelchair.
"Vampire's curious about your supply consumption," the Lieutenant Commander explained to a muffled cough from the girl in question. "Mainly about the sheer... amount of it."
I fought to keep a blush off my face. "I, ah, wouldn't usually express such information; you must understand. But I suppose propriety can be placed aside if the Navy requires such information..."
"You don't have to say it if you don't want to," Tobias was quick to respond.
I raised a hand to quiet the officer. "It's fine, Lieutenant Commander; the Navy's needs override any hesitance on my part about divulging my supply requirements." The blush returned, despite my best efforts. "As of... Six minutes ago, my current supply level was at 92%, a sizeable improvement from yesterday's 64%."
You could have heard a pin drop for all the noise coming from the human and his Shipgirl companion. Neither gave so much as a peep before Vampire's eyes crossed, and she pinched the bridge of her nose hard enough I heard the metallic clang from here.
"Half a container of MREs," she began tensely. "Only filled a little over a quarter of your bunkers?"
I borrowed a human expression and waggled a hand. "A bit less once I factor in the Sea Fury squadron I loaned to the airfield, but close enough for our line of work."
"A quarter," Vampire repeated, seemingly not having heard me. "Enough food for a Carrier division, and it doesn't even fill her bunkers!"
Something in her tone struck a worried tone within me, so I carefully eased out from behind the delightfully large desk and lowered myself to the destroyer's level. The poor thing looked terrible in both human and ship form, and it pained me that she refused the repair offers I'd floated her. Nevertheless, I pointedly avoided looking at the ragged stumps of Vampire's legs and settled from lifting my fleetmate into my arms so she'd have a soft place to rest her head.
That she didn't protest as usual just went to show how much my fleetmate needed a Capital ship's affection!
Tobias raised a hand. "I don't think Vampire needs a hug right now, Repulse."
"That's poppycock, Sir," I replied, mentally slapping myself for the rude but necessary language. "There's nought wrong about rendering aid to a fellow vessel of the Royal Navy should they require it."
Vampire muttered something into my bosom that sounded like an agreement to my ears, prompting me to adjust my grip so she wouldn't slip.
"If I cannot repair my old friend's physical injuries, Ser, then I shall do my best to offer mental healing," I gently reminded the human officer.
Yet once again, that prompted Tobias to blush. "I... see."
Now, while the Lieutenant Commander's tone and expression implied the opposite, I wasn't one to be a right and utter nob and point that out to his face. Thus, after some deliberation, I reached out and pulled the obviously stressed officer into my embrace while minding my strength. My Captain had pointed out, and rightfully so, that humans were much more fragile than I despite my evident softness, and it would be a horrible tragedy if I harmed one of my crew's descendants!
"I do understand that neither of you is under my command," I pointed out to the pair. "But you'll forgive me, I do hope, for lifting some of the burdens from your shoulders."
Tobias's exposed ears turned red for reasons beyond my ken, while Vampire's painfully frail body trembled and shook with poorly-restrained laughter. There was clearly something I was missing regarding the current circumstances, but I'll be damned if I could figure out what it was, let alone how to handle it. Regardless, I held the pair against my bosom for a reasonable time and only needed to chastise Able Rating Chompy once for trying to snack on my desk.
Alas, the Lieutenant Commander tapped my arm, and I reluctantly let him pull away to half stagger/half fall onto the nearby chair. He seemed a little out of sorts, but I refrained from following the urge to embrace him again lest it causes issues for his ribs. I imagined stressing my cracked structural members with ill-advised manoeuvres and shivered at the damage such would cause... and the cursing from the Chief Engineer. However, Vampire was content in her current position, and I wasn't so prideful to admit that my heart soared just a tad at the implied trust she gave me.
I sighed happily and immediately felt several seams pop in several unfortunate places that would be a pain in the aft to repair. I closed my eyes and extended my senses to brush against the thousands of light great and small that inhabited the island I'd claimed as a home for Zule Fleet. Boa and Python's presence was like magnesium flares, the ethereal flames dancing and frolicking as they sailed around the base on a lazy patrol route with Shark's flotilla as an escort. My bosom swelled with motherly pride as I watched my daughters enjoy themselves before I cast my gaze towards the altogether more subdued flame of Lilly.
Of all the ships in my budding fleet, the Tsu was by far the one I wanted to hug all day and keep her safe in my embrace. It was painful seeing how badly the Light Cruiser Princess had abused her, but Jia Xin had mentioned that poking that would do more harm than good at the moment. I shifted Vampire in my grip moreso than I could then for any real need, with the destroyer giving a muffled happy sigh that buoyed my momentarily downed spirits.
Though, speaking of Singapore's representative, where was she?
The flash of a camera blinded me, and I blinked away spot to see the submarine in question holding her camera in the doorway and grinning from ear to ear. Of course, I smiled in response, quite happy to see the Ka in such a good mood.
"Vampire's having a lot of fun there," Jai snarked as she pocketed the camera and entered the office. "Mind..."
I pulled her against my bosom before she could voice the question, already knowing what the submarine wanted from long experience. No matter what certain crew members implied, I wasn't socially oblivious, and I was more than aware that Jia harboured some measure of... strong affection for myself. I didn't hold such feelings for her, mind, but that didn't stop me from ensuring the submarine was unable to escape my one-armed hug.
"You don't need to make excuses for enjoying my hugs, Jia Xin," I teased the now-stiff Ka. "Now, do try and avoid hitting Vampire; she's in no condition to receive damage right now."
Vampire's agreement was utterly vile and filled with expletives that had me laughing from deep in my gut to the detriment of what remained of my patchwork shirt.
The Seamen responsible for the garment cashed in their bets and went back to the drawing board for their seventh iteration of the design.
Some diabetes-inducing fluff before I get to some heavier topics.
