Re-pulsed By The Abyss (Kancolle Abyssal Re-class Repulse)

Re-pulsed By The Abyss: Chapter Eleven.
Sorry for the long wait, everyone, fickle Muse and all that unfortunate jazz.

Music for the chapter is from Sabaton.





"And that's how you give reality a great big middle finger with moxie and a lot of force!"

Tobias (Toby to his friends) should have been writing down everything Jia Xin said as she delved into the Abyssal's method of transporting entire fleets long distances. The key word there being should, as the Lieutenant Commander was far too busy worrying about the fact that it was intended for Repulse's use. But unfortunately for his blood pressure, the infamous Abyssal Stormfront/teleport manoeuvre loathed by the Allied navies worldwide relied on the practitioner having lots of mystical power and the precision to back it up.

Judging from Vampire's pale face in the corner of Tobias' vision, she'd just realised where on that scale Repulse fell and was rightfully terrified.

As for the Abyssal Aviation Superdreadnaght in question... The Officer managed an entire five seconds of watching her write in a notebook propped up on her bust before he had to turn away and take a calming breath. He wasn't sure what terrified him more; that Repulse was attentively noting everything the Ka-Class submarine said or how he knew Jia Xin understood his worry and was smirking behind her respirator.

"So, in summary, travelling through the Depths-Between is as much a matter of willpower as it is brute force." The submarine removed her mask and smiled at Repulse. "Any questions?"

"Just one, Miss Jia Xin," the Naga chewed the end of her fringe for a moment. "So I won't be travelling the physical distance in this Depths-Between as far as supplies go?"

"Not for a four hundred kilometre hop, nope, 'specially not when it'll just be the two of us. Things change if you're trying to move from here to, say... Guam, somewhere far away, or if you've got a fleet in tow."

If she can casually jaunt to Guam, Toby thought with sudden dread, what's stopping her from deciding to report to the Admiralty in person? Just the mental image of Repulse trying to squeeze her snekky bulk through the narrow confines of the Admiralty building was enough to make him groan and press his head against the desk. The Officer drew cold (hah!) comfort from the contact for all of a second before the soft hiss of wheels heralded Vampire's arrival and ruined a perfectly good mood.

"Say, Tobes," she began with a sly grin. "Y'think Repulse knows she masses as much as an entire fleet?"

Tobias snorted. "Of course, she does; Repulse isn't..." He couldn't finish the sentence as a terrible thought struck him. "You know what? I'm going to save my fraying sanity and refuse to answer that."

His Kanmusu companion and best friend cackled loud enough to briefly draw the Re-Class' attention before they went back to speaking in excited tones with Jia Xin. Not for the last time, the Lieutenant Commander had to fight to ignore how God-damn enticing Repulse was to view from pretty much every angle. Oh, sure, everyone's initial impression of Repulse was a sheer terror at seeing an enormous Re-Hime loaded for bear and packed to the gunwales with firepower, but Toby had long since moved past that to enjoy the differences that made Repulse the Shipgirl she was. He tuned out Vampire's delighted amusement to rub his aching ribs and quietly admired Repulse's happy gesturing and the resulting movement that caused in particular... areas. Hell, the Supercapital's figure was so far beyond any Kanmusu Battleship Tobias had seen in his career, and that included meeting Iowa once!

And then the content Officer remembered why he was in this room and promptly abandoned dreaming about being hugged by Repulse for hours on end.

On a whim, Tobias stuck his hand up. "Can I ask something, Repulse?"

Warm violet eyes moved from Jia Xin (much to the sub's irritation) to meet Toby's gaze alongside a dimpled smile that made him glad he was sitting behind a desk. Repulse looked anywhere between a mature twenty and a youthful forty, yet mere appearance took a back seat to a smile that could light up a room and take the human's breath away. Faced with a vision of beauty, he lost his voice and only recovered it when the Supercapital's motherly features creased in a worry he knew would prompt an extra-tight hug if he didn't speak.

"You can ask me anything you'd like, Commander."

"Why don't you sail to Singapore; it's only four hundred kliks?"

Repulse's cheeks dusted a darker cyan before breaking eye contact in as obvious a sign of embarrassment as Toby had ever seen, accompanied by Vampire's poorly-muffled giggles. The Destroyer's reaction caused the blush to spread all the way to the Re-Hime's neck and, barely hidden by her luscious white hair, the tips of her finned ears. So, feeling more than a little guilty, Toby wadded up a page from his untouched notebook, flicked it at Vampire's head with a grin, and left her behind to approach the embarrassed Repulse and hug her. His arms barely reached around her thanks to their respective height difference and the two massive fuel bunkers that gave the Re such an impressive figure, but Tobias didn't dwell on where his face was resting.

Much.

Eventually, deceptively powerful arms returned the hug with slightly alarming force. "You needn't comfort me so, Commander," Repulse murmured into his hair. "I owe you an answer to your question, after all."

"Bugger that, Repulse," Toby snarked back. "If you don't want to answer, that's your prerogative. 'Sides, you looked like you needed a hug."

He immediately regretted his words as the Supercapital's embrace went from 'firm' to 'my spine's going to snap', the resulting alarming squawk muffled by the Officer's new position. Speech, and indeed all but the shallowest breaths, proved impossible as he ended head-fist in Repulse's bountiful cleavage to far too much-muffled laughter for Tobias' liking. His frantic tapping to escape seemingly failed when he remained in marshmallow heaven, only to be released a moment later alongside a hand ruffling his hair courtesy of a beaming Re-Hime. Toby was too busy sucking in grateful breaths of wonderful oxygen to be annoyed by the gesture and had forgiven the fluffy Naga by the time he had enough air to speak without a coughing fit.

"To answer your query, Commander, I'd prefer to limit my time away from Port George," Repulse beat him to the punch with the barest of blushes. "While I have several reservations with the method," she cast a lidded glance at a red-faced Jia Xin. "I can't rightfully deny the tactical and strategic advantages afforded by it."

"Y'sure it's got nothing to do with your top speed?" Vampire called across the room.

Repulse turning and sticking her nose in the air fooled precisely nobody. "I haven't the slightest notion of what you mean, Vampire; my cruising speed is perfectly suitable for the voyage."

"Why not your maximum speed?" Toby joined in on the joke. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but you can hit twenty-five knots according to Boa and Python."

The Supercapital muttered something under her breath, once again blushing up a gradually spreading storm that brought smiles to everyone's faces. Unlike the last time, Jia Xin recovered from whatever embarrassed/jealous daze she'd been suffering and slunk over to Repulse and offered her a pleading look that proved surprisingly effective. If not for the pale blue glow of her eyes and subdued rigging, Toby wouldn't have known the Ka was an Abyssal submarine, given how human she acted. So, even as he watched the Re-Hime's silence crumble in the face of Jia's pleading expression, the Officer mentally upped the other Abyssal's threat rating.

Eventually, Repulse pinched her nose with a groan. "I can't easily make my top speed, okay?" She met everyone's eyes one by one. "I may be part composed of 'spooky Abyssal bullshit' to borrow some Innie parlance, but it's draining to do so for the time needed to reach and maintain my maximum speed."

She clammed up after that, leaving behind a gobsmacked Vampire who quietly rolled up beside Toby without a quip while the Officer marvelled at hearing the oh-so-composed Supercapital cursing in casual conversation. Jia Xin, meanwhile, looked like the cat who'd snatched the canary and immediately drew the Z-Class Destroyer's ire by existing in the same space as Repulse. The pair got as far as sizing each other up for yet another catfight over the Re's affection before a quiet cough from the warship in question derailed it before it began. And yet, that was followed by a wave of spine-tingling power that washed over everyone as the Re-Hime drew herself to her full height with deceptive speed for someone of her bulk in a genuinely intimidating display. She looked as soft and huggable as ever, to say nothing of her nigh-permanent state of lacking dress, yet Toby's hindbrain screamed in terror and ran off to a dark corner to hide and possibly get wasted.

Thankfully, the display was wasted when Repulse promptly undermined it by folding her arms below her bust and drawing attention from her stern expression to other more intriguing sights.

"I shan't be gone long, but until then, Lieutenant Commander Williamson will be in charge." She tucked a stray lock of hair behind an ear. "Is that understood?"

Toby joined in with the chorus of 'Ayes' and cursed his luck for getting put in charge of this Abyssal madhouse... Not that he'd dare say that to Repulse's face. So, instead, the Officer offered a curt nod and breathed a sigh of relief once the Supercapital returned it and left the room without a hug.

The last thing his poor ribs needed was Repulse-induced breaking before they healed.



I'll admit to being more than a little nervous leaving Boa and Python behind as I finished my preparations for the jaunt through the Depths-Between. They floated well away from the arbitrarily chosen departure site, though, given our nature, it still meant I could chat with them without raising my voice.

"Be on your best behaviour, Girls, and do try and go easy on the Commander," I half-turned to wave at the distant human on the dock. "The last thing I want to find out on returning is that you caused him issues."

"You can count on us, Mum!" Boa snapped a salute.

Python threw an arm around her sister's shoulders. "Don't worry, Mum, we'll be saints for him!"

I seriously doubted they'd get up to no trouble, but keeping my mouth shut and hugging them was the motherly thing to do. There was the requisite faux-complaining, more tearful hugs from both sides and one last embrace for good measure, but I eventually waved Boa and Python back to shore with a stiff upper lip. Let nobody say that a warship of Her Majesty broke down over a short jaunt through a realm so far beyond the pale as to be Fey. I tracked my gaze across the dockside and waved towards Tobias and Vampire for good luck before turning my attention inwards to where my Captain was preparing for the critical task.

"The CAG's getting the last of his air group stowed away as we speak, Repulse," he informed me while browsing a clipboard a Middie handed him. "Chief's got people watching the hull braces where that torpedo struck in case the seas get rough, but that's more the jammy bastard being paranoid than any genuine fear."

I smiled as the Chief Engineer's outraged squeaking echoed from the depths of Engineering. "And the crew?"

"Confident that you'll keep them safe through thick and thin..." My Captain favoured me with a lidded glance. "Just like the last five times, you asked, Dear."

My cheeks burned even while I pretended with all my might that I hadn't been just a teeny little bit overbearing in my protectiveness. My Captain chuckled deep in the back of his vocaliser and said nought else in that regard. He was undoubtedly aware of my embarrassment yet far too honourable of an officer to needle me about the emotion. If there was ever a man that embodied the Navy's finest traditions, it was the metal-and-flesh juggernaught standing tall and proud amidst the finest damn sailors from Britain's shores. I caught a flicker of pride from my Captain and made to speak, only for Jia Xin to arrive whilst downing an entire flask of some concoction.

"Deep below, that stuff kicks like an oxygen torpedo," she spat to the side and donned her rebreather. "Right, that'll give me enough juice to open the way for us. Watch what I do, and Singapore can finish the rest after we arrive on the far side."

I tapped two fingers to my brow. "Never fear, Miss Jia Xin, I shall be a most attentive student."

Middie Team Six waved their notebooks and writing implements with a multitude of hands, grippers and claws from their position atop my head. The Ka blinked multiple times at the group, glanced down at the empty flask in her hand, and then tucked it away with a nigh-inaudible mutter. She seemed confused, but then again, there was a great many things about how my crew operated that confounded the poor thing...

"Welp here goes!"

So it was with that unusual battlecry that Jia Xin raised her arms in the air and began chanting in a harsh, guttural tongue as if beseeching an eldritch god. Despite my reservations about the fel words, I forced myself to listen for Middie Team Six's sake, if not my own and endured the lengthy chanting with nary a shudder. I felt the opening to the Depths-Between before I saw it, my eyes being drawn to an innocuous patch of ocean perhaps five hundred metres distant as a heavy weight settled across my frame with no discernable source. Jia Xin lowered her arms and traced a semi-circle from her lefthand side to her right while chanting all the while and causing a distortion to form in the aforementioned unusual spot. For a moment, it seemed like as if nothing was to occur... And then a tear in the very fabric of the world opened up before my eyes.

Dark clouds poured skywards from the growing portal and heralded a nigh-immediate thunderstorm that bucketed upon us while oily, rusted chains rattled and clanked into a frame around the weeping hole in reality. Only rapid-fire orders from my Captain prevented Alpha and Bravo turrets from firing upon the Fey construct, and I wasn't ashamed to admit that I would have done the same thing in their place. Jia Xin waited until the chains finished the eldritch task to cease chanting and steam towards the unholy portal, forcing me to follow behind lest I put her hardwon effort to waste. I cast one final look towards Port George and my family before steeling myself and sailing from the world I knew to the stormy reality of the Depths-Between.



"Yesss, enter my realm, little Princess~."

The Watcher steepled her fingers and allowed herself a slight upturn of her lips that only the most generous would call a smile. She felt the nasty residue of one of Singapore's ilk hidden underneath her project's shining beacon and immediately dismissed the former in favour of inspecting the latter. It burned with a fervour that surprised and intrigued the Watcher, though she took great pains to avoid drawing the amalgam's attention lest they detected the occult bindings trailing through the Abyss to her personal realm. There was no telling how it would react given the disparate nature of its pieces, yet curiosity had the Watcher expending a not-inconsiderable degree of power to create a storm in the Depths-Between to drive the project off course.

She leant back in her chair in the physical realm and reached for a glass of Saké as the Abyss answered her call and battered at the project's form. The Watcher had no doubts about the course of action despite the amalgam's sheer bulk, for she'd ensured it couldn't handle high seas to easily control it. Oh, it might have broken out of the laboratory and killed the peons who'd summoned it, but the Watcher still mentally slapped herself on the back for managing to make the amalgam ever barely seaworthy given its displacement. She sipped at her drink and watched the Depths-Between be thrown into a terrible frenzy while debating what to do with the project when it inevitably floundered and sank.

Turning it into an Installation after a few mental adjustments could work, the Watcher mused, or perhaps a mobile Installation!

"Well, mobile in the loosest sense of the word~," she giggled behind a dainty hand.

And then immediately spat her Saké across the room when the Watcher noticed what her pet project was achieving.

"No, no, no, no, no; that's not possible! How in the Deep is it doing that?!"



"REPULSE, WHAT IN THE DEEP'S NAME ARE YOU DOING SAILING INTO THE MASSIVE WAVES?!"

Jia Xin screamed in terror as another wave washed over the bow of Repulse's steel hull while she clung to their neck for dear life. The crazy fucking Supercapital laughed as the Depths-Between tried and failed to wash the enormous capital ship away because, of course, she did! While the Ka had no damn clue where the inexplicable storm surge had come from, she'd endured more than a few turbulent trips and figured it wouldn't be too bad. It wasn't like the anomalous conditions would last overly long with the presence of an Abyssal Princess to stabilise the area by dint of existing.

Which, unfortunately, relied on the Princess in question wanting a nice, calm voyage and not swells large enough to drown lesser vessels.

Catching a snapshot of Repulse's steel hull was the sole upside to this terrifying experience, Jia Xin repeated in her head even as more waves smashed atop the occult steel of the fore turrets without damage. Which, to be fair, made sense when she factored in the angular slabs of metal, cannons and insane marines weighing more than the Ka did! Jia tried not to dwell too hard on how badly she'd fare being smashed by waves like that and thanked the Deep that Repulse's avatar was perched well above the deck atop the bridge. It said a lot about the Princess' crew that the Middies sharing the perch with the Re-Hime and Jia alternated between delighted screaming every time Repulse entered a trough and furious scribbling as they observed the Depths-Between.

"I don't get why you're scared of a few little waves, Jia Xin; it's not that bad."

The Ka's head snapped upwards to glare at the insane Re-Hime. "THE WAVES ARE HIGHER THAN YOUR ABYSS-DAMNED TURRETS, WOMAN!"

A truly massive swell chose that moment to appear from the all-encompassing fog shrouding the area and smashing down atop Repulse's bow. Jia Xin wailed in terror when it looked as if they were about to plunge beneath the resulting trough, yet the Aviation Superdreadnaught merely flashed a toothy smile and thrust an arm towards the next wave.

"All ahead full, Captain, I want to hit this one at full speed!" Repulse reached over and ruffled Jia Xin's hair. "I'd rate this as a Winter Monday in the North Sea if that."

"A Winter Monday in the North Sea..." the Ka wondered who she'd pissed off to be stuck with the craziest Re of the lot. "Please tell me you're joking."

Repulse merely smiled and said nothing, content to leave Jia Xin's mind spinning in ever-increasing circles as to if the Supercapital was being serious or not. Someone, probably Singapore, must have been watching out for the submarine, for between one raspy scream and the next, the storm abruptly subsided as they sailed out of the Depths-Between into a crowded harbour. Jia relaxed her death grip with a relieved groan, struts and crew joining in until her dickweasel of an XO pointed out that they must be in Singapore's domain. Then, she ever so reluctantly cracked open an eye and found herself looking down at her Mistress' unamused expression, Repulse's steel hull nowhere to be seen, to say nothing of the Human retainers and Abyssal escorts surrounding the Harbour Princess.

Oh, look, Yannik was here with his smartphone out and recording.

Jia Xin was fucked, well and truly shafted now.


Several minutes earlier.

"The stream's up and running, Ma'am," Yannik cheerfully informed Singapore from the cluster of IT technicians and their equipment. "Everything's backed up and on a hardline, in case the Wi-Fi bites the dust when she appears."

The Harbour Princess nodded. "Very good, Yannik; join me if you would."

Her most loyal Human adviser said his goodbyes to the excited-looking technicians and weaved through the greeting party with enviable ease for one such as him. Singapore hid her smile and schooled her expression into a hopefully calm mask when Yannik drew his smartphone from a pocket and briefly directed it towards her. She offered the advanced device a slight tilt of her head, knowing that the gesture would be seen by the mind-boggling amount of people watching from the safety of their homes and still amazed by the march of technology. While the exact mechanisms behind sharing video from a phone the size of her palm across the world went over the Harbour Princess' head, her Human advisors had been proven correct in its usage for PR time and time again.

And to think that some backwards Humans still thought the Abyss could corrupt people through such videos despite five years of solid evidence against it. The incredibly expensive hardening and multiple backups required to cleanly transmit video of Singapore herself, let alone her speaking, were the best counterarguments for that line of thought. But, speaking of transmitting video, the Princess' domain registered the incoming bow wake of a portal from the Depths-Between right where she'd directed Jia Xin to send them.

"Our guest will be arriving shortly," Singapore informed her retainers and adjusted her half-moon glasses. "And do remember to avoid the portal's edge."

This she directed more towards her subordinates enforcing the exclusion zone around her largest pier than the immediate crowd, but both groups accepted the warning without comment. Those on land backed away from the edge while the Ta leading the escorts shepherded her rowdier underlings out of the zone with an apologetic smile. Singapore had time to make a mental note about coaching the fast battleship to be more confident before an arch formed of rusted chains erupted from the deep blue waters of the bay. A blast of seaspray and icy winds flowed around the Harbour Princess' group thanks to a hastily erected barrier which faded to allow her guest through unimpeded. However, things turned for the odd when an occult-steel bow eased through the portal's grasp, forcing the chains to clank and groan to accommodate the mass, only to vanish without a trace a second later. Sometime between Singapore blinking away the conflicting Aura clouding her vision and the portal closing, a deathly hush fell over the greeting party.

The Harbour Princess took pride in staring up at the cause of the silence without flinching, meeting the towering Re-Hime's violet eyes and offering them the customary shallow bow for greeting an equal-ranked Princess. But, of course, protocol dictated that Repulse did likewise... But she wouldn't know the proper etiquette, would she, Singapore? She was saved from a terribly embarrassing facepalm by a slight touch on her shoulder courtesy of Yannik. The bright young man smiled like mad and surreptitiously gestured downwards while keeping his phone steadily aimed in Repulse's direction.

Singapore followed his gaze to find Jia Xin with her arms around the bruised and scantily-clad Re-Hime's neck (What was it with Re's and their lack of proper clothing?) and tucked into the crook of their arm. Her wayward subordinate's eyes widened in alarm as the bespectacled Princess levelled a flat look in their direction, but that was all she could do when their guest hadn't... Singapore spoke too soon, for Repulse ruffled the Ka's hair with a blatantly maternal smile despite the filed teeth and let the sub down before approaching the Harbour Princess. Words couldn't properly describe the maelstrom of emotions turning the senior Royal's eloquent speech into so much dust and echoes from seeing the long-lost member of Force Z, no matter how much she tried to voice them.

So, instead, Singapore took in her counterpart's mottled cyan skin across their arms, face and torso where shells had failed to penetrate (without leering at the Re-Hime's massive bust), salt-soaked ivory braid draped across her heavily-armoured tail and racked her brains for the best thing to say. Did she mention the battle damage and offer to fix it as a welcoming gift? Or maybe remarking on Repulse's battle scars was best to soothe their undoubtedly sizeable ego was the best course of action? Every second felt like a ticking time bomb for the Harbour Princess, which was the only thing to blame for what came from her mouth.

"Did you forget to bring an umbrella, Dear?"

Mortified, Singapore's entire world froze as she contemplated how bloody stupid she sounded. What did that even mean for someone like the enormous, heavily armed and battle-scarred Re cratering the concrete pier from her sheer mass...

Repulse's gentle giggle shattered her stupor. "Nothing that would prevent me from meeting you after eighty-two years," A deceptively large hand reached out towards the dumbstruck Royal and cupped her cheek. "I failed you once, but on my honour as a warship of the Royal Navy, I shall never fail you again!"

Every non-Royal present backed away from the Re-Hime's unrestrained aura 'till it faded with the faint clash of steel on steel. Singapore hesitantly reached up and touched Repulse's hand, terrified that it'd vanish despite all the impossible-to-ignore evidence smiling down at her. Instead, she found a genuine smile breaching her composure and promptly removed the hand from her cheek to grasp it between her own like a lifeline.

"Welcome back, Repulse, and may I be the first to say that it's an honour to meet you once again."

Singapore Harbour Princess and Boarding Party Princess managed an entire minute staring into each other's eyes before Repulse pulled an unresisting Singapore into a spine-breaking embrace with a delighted belly laugh.

And the people watching Yannik's Twitch live stream immediately went mad, requiring the deletion of a great many thirsty comments.



I hope y'all enjoy, Folks!
 
Last edited:
Omake: Beware Whose Name You Invoke For Aid: Fisher Style.
In which Toby makes a mistake with enormous consequences.

Music for the chapter is from Kelly Clarkson.


View: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=UxZH9lRdLD0&list=RDAMVMUxZH9lRdLD0




I glared at the blueprint spread across my desk with a fury unbeknownst to any but the most furious individuals.

The blueprint said nothing, what with being a large rectangle of drafting paper upon which I'd attempted to create a lifesaving object, though I swore something laughed at the edge of my hearing.

"I shall make you work, you damnable thing, even if the attempt damages me!"

Alas, the fury of a Royal Navy Aviation Superdreadnaught rolled off the rough draft like water off a duck's back. I growled deep in the back of my throat, enduring the discomfort of the table's edge pressing against my chest to lean over and grab the pencil from where it'd been cast aside. Then, writing implement in hand (and warnings from my Engineers not to damage it again), I forced down my irritation and went back to work on Tobias' armour.

Though it was more honest to say that the half-finished blueprint would be the Commander's future armour if I could get it working. But, alas, I was a warship of many talents, which didn't include armoursmithing, or at the very least, not one suited for an incredibly squishy human officer. Tearing armour off thrice-damned Innie leaders and wearing it myself was something I've done and will gladly continue doing, but Tobias needed something far less crude and violent. So, fighting back a yawn as Second Shift swapped out for the Night Watch, I tapped the pencil against my lip and studied the half-finished plate armour blueprint.

Good, proper Sheffield steel was a must and formed the central breastplate, arms and gauntlets. Yet, weight was definitely a concern given Commander Williamson wasn't a warship and prevented me from armouring everything in angled plates. Every inch of my hull demanded a level of protection the descendent of my original crew couldn't handle, yet, for the life of me, I hadn't a clue how to create armour that he could move in. Vampire would be insufferable if I gave up and just shoved Tobias into an armoured sphere rated for 18-inch shellfire at the first hint of trouble, to say nothing of the man's reaction to being unceremoniously hidden away. Unfortunately, the Lieutenant Commander was as much an honourable man as his grandfather, and neither would cower and hide from the foe when they could do something to help...

A hand landed on my shoulder. "Take a break for the night, Repulse."

My Captain met my betrayed glance with an implacable look that swiftly punctured my building anger like a holed boiler releasing steam. Part of me wanted to challenge his request as I would any unreasonable order, but one look into the eyes behind my Captain's clear lenses struck that urge down.

"I can't stand Tobias' safety being at risk, Captain," I half-heartedly protested, waving at the blueprint. "He needs..."

"Commander Williamson needs you to be at your best, my Dear; not strung-out hurting yourself night after night." He sighed and squeezed my shoulder. "Don't think I disagree with you, Repulse; I don't. But we're in a good spot right now, so let's shelve this for tonight and come back with a fresh head of steam?"

My gaze darted between my dearest companion's helmet and the half-finished blueprint, both demanding my focus for disparate reasons. I glanced inside myself and only needed to see the Second Shift's tired movements to nod and set the drafting pencil onto the paper. My Captain offered a relieved head-tilt as was his wont and vanished back to his post, leaving me alone in the room to tiredly glare at the insufferable blueprint. Why couldn't it be as easy to create human armour as it was to tear down Innie ships and rebuild them as superior warships in every metric?

"Lord Fisher, anyone, I'd appreciate any aid you could provide me," I whispered toward the ceiling. "God knows I need help from a bloody expert to give Tobias the protection he deserves."

Sadly, the father of the modern British Navy and myself didn't respond to my plea, not that I expected him to answer one such as me. But, silly as it was, I still felt a pang of disappointment as I turned my back on the drawing table to flick off the lights and curl up among my many blankets. While proper sleep as a human understood it wasn't within my capability, I'd learned to imitate it by leaving the Night Watch to their own devices and closing my eyes. I caught the faint edges of hushed whispers on my bridge before letting the chatter fade into the background, taking a final breath and drifting off to pseudo-sleep with thoughts of Lord Fisher.



A transparent figure beyond the sleeping Supercapital's ability to see emerged from the ether and silently moved to study the half-complete blueprint. The white-haired elderly human male examined the specifications with lidded eyes and proceeded to undo his uniform's cufflinks to roll up his sleeves. The ghost turned a proud smile Repulse's way and set about helping one of his creations (if much changed from the original specifications) after she'd been so kind as to ask him nicely. Of course, he'd need to take inspiration from the former Battlecruiser for the general lines, but the ghost of First Sea Lord John 'Jackie' Fisher had the perfect design in mind for the Australian officer that Repulse was so worried about.

It'd need some updating for the modern times, of course, but the result would be a warship with no peer and the culmination of all Jackie Fisher's dreams.



Toby genuinely didn't expect to arrive at Port George's shipyard (AKA the Snek Shed) only to have a set of honest-to-god armour shoved into his arms. The Australian staggered from the impact and managed a half-hearted glare toward the enormous Sea Naga responsible before he recovered his balance and got a good look at the metal armour. At a glance, it looked like medieval plate armour done up in the occult steel used by Abyssals worldwide, yet a closer inspection revealed the solid plates to be surprisingly flexible strips that extended and contracted while Toby shook the suit.

"Do you like it?!" Repulse demanded, or perhaps pleaded, given her expression. "Oh, do please try it on at the very least; I spent so long..."

Tobias held a hand up. "Hold on; you made this for me?"

"Of course! One never knows when the Innies might next strike, and we know how perfidious they are."

Putting aside the half-growl capping the Supercapital's sentence, which echoed oddly in the Snek Shed's cavernous interior, the Commander hurried to nod lest he offended Repulse and had to console her when she broke down. He flipped off Vampire's smirking mug in the corner of his vision to cut off an undoubtedly snarky quip and turned the armour over in his hands.

"Right, well, ah, thanks, I guess?" Toby cringed and tried again. "It's incredible, Repulse, really. I didn't know you could create something like this."

Repulse's entire face, from the bottom of her jaw to the tips of her ears, flushed a dark cyan, surprisingly not earning a cackle from Vampire. Instead, the Destroyer in question met Tobias' questioning glance with rolled eyes and wheeled herself forward to make grabby motions.

"C'mon, Tobes, lemme help you get into that."

So, while a certain Aviation Superdreadnaught was busy blushing up a storm and looking everywhere but the Australian pair, the Lieutenant Commander quickly took a knee so his friend could help pull the armour over his head with a pleasant lack of painful clasps. The lack of such had Toby grinning as the breastplate went over his head before giving his arms a little twist to slip them into the armour's greaves and gauntlets. Honestly, it was such an easy fit that the Australian didn't realise he was wearing the armour until he glanced down to find it covering his torso and arms. Tobias flexed his fingers through the gauntlets with an amazed chuckle as each digit smoothly moved without a hint of resistance, to say nothing of how damn light it felt!

"Holy shit," the curse slipped free as Toby grinned from ear to ear. "It's like I'm not wearing..."

Now, while the Lieutenant Commander wasn't in any way, shape, or form a Shipgirl, he'd spent enough time around Vampire and now Repulse to know their various alarm sounds off by heart. So Tobias' first response upon hearing a strangely muffled Bosun's whistle was to glance towards his Kanmusu and Abyssal companion to ask about the noise, only to find his view blocked. He brushed the platinum blonde strands aside with his new gauntlet to find Repulse and Vampire wearing matching gobsmacked expressions, open jaws and all. Yet, strange as their behaviour was for Toby, he shook his head to dismiss distant chattering and wondered when the Sea naga had lowered herself enough to nearly eliminate their height difference.

"What's wrong...?"

The Commander slapped a gauntlet over his mouth to very little pain when a breathy woman's voice spoke in his stead. Whoever it was had the kind of soft, lyrical accent Tobias had always loved in his handful of girlfriends, except he sure as fuck felt those words leave his mouth mere seconds ago. It was at that point that he stopped ignoring all those weird muffled sounds and realised that they weren't coming from either the stunned Repulse or Vampire gaping like a fish.

"'Course that didn't come from the Shiela's, Lass; that's us getting you worked up for the first time!"

Toby clutched his head when the easygoing man spoke inside the officer's head, prompting an unexpected view of a ship's bridge in his mind's eye. He found himself watching a team of fuzzy Koalas, Kangaroos and the odd Octopus operating the various WW2-era equipment in period-appropriate Australian uniforms. Then, stupefied yet unable to speak, Tobias' gaze drifted to the incredibly buff Koala smoking a pipe in the centre of the organised chaos who picked that moment to remove his pipe and glance right at the Commander.

"I hope ya don't mind me saying you've got the best pair of fuel bunkers I've ever seen, Lass," they gestured out the bridge windows. "A stern like a bloody massive shelf too, but that's snake tails for ya; thick and great for supporting wide loads."

The smirking son of a bitch ever so slowly pointed a finger at Toby with a smirk on his muzzle.

"Why don't you look down and see for yourself?"



The heavily-armoured and equally well-developed Sea Naga glanced down at her undeniably enormous fuel bunkers and released a scream that had Vampire's crew fighting to stay on their feet. But, unfortunately, the Destroyer was much too busy gaping in shock as the white-scaled snake lady spun around in a circle and forced Repulse to leap backwards before their tail-mounted thagomizer smashed into her stomach. Somehow, despite all logic dictating that it wasn't possible, Vampire had watched Tobes don the armour made for him and turn into a dummy thick Naga whose ghostly outline bore three twin turrets with cannons as large as her bust. The snek lady in question continued spinning in place in a hail of sparks as the Abyssal steel covering her tail scored the concrete in increasingly deep gouges.

"What the fuck?!" The chunky snek that used to be Toby hissed. "W-Why am I a fucking Sea N-Naga, and why a-am I so bloody thick?!"

When nobody responded, the ludicrously over-armed Battlecruiser (Vampire was fairly sure they were one for reasons she couldn't name) ceased tearing up the floor to glare down at the wheelchair-bound Destroyer and slither closer. Vampire squeaked in fright and managed a single wheel backwards before the stupidly pretty Snek Toby abruptly hugged her without warning. It was a much harder embrace than the marshmallow heaven provided by Repulse, yet the silver-haired Kanmusu still found herself enjoying the hug and running a hand through Toby's hair. Trust her luck that Tobes, of all fucking people, turned into a thick as hell Sea Naga with tits bigger than her head and stunning platinum blonde hair reaching the concrete.

Vampire wasn't jealous of her transformed best friend, honest!

"This is bullshit," she muttered to herself.

Unfortunately, confused doe eyes the colour of polished emeralds stared at Vampire through a veritable curtain of blonde hair that didn't hide Tobes' new softened features.

"W-What's bullshit, Vamp?" Snek Toby whispered.

The question of what Battlecruiser her friend had become was answered as a ghostly figure known to every Great War veteran appeared behind and beside Repulse. Vampire's eyes widened in shock upon seeing Jackie Fisher doffing his cap with a poorly-hidden grin before jealousy-fuelled anger made her jab an accusing finger at the smug bastard.

"COME OVER HERE, YOU OLD BASTARD," she screamed over Tobes' shoulder, much to the Snek's alarm. "I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU TURNED TOBY INTO A BLOODY SNAKE VERSION OF YOUR DICK-MEASURING DESIGN, BUT I'LL GET YOU FOR THIS!"

The dummy thick Naga in question (No, not Repulse, who was staring at Fisher in shock) released a breathy gasp.

"I'm an Incomparable..." Her delicate features hardened as she whirled, Vampire still in her arms. "A FUCKING INCOMPARABLE; OF ALL THE SHIT-BRAINED DESIGNS OUT THERE, YOU PICKED THE THICKEST OF THE LOT!"

Snek Toby launched herself at the panicking ghost with a banshee wail, Vampire screaming in her grip while Repulse looked on with the expression of someone who wished they weren't sober for this.

Alas, Brenny had sold all the moonshine on the down low to Toby's new crew, for a dry team was one who hadn't the energy to chase a ghostly First Sea Lord around the Snek Shed.

At least nobody had the bright idea of telling Lieutenant Commander Williamson her new displacement.




Incomparable's design specs, for those interested.
 
Re-pulsed By The Abyss: Chapter Twelve.
Who wants to see the Admiralty watch the aftermath of Repulse's Twitch reveal and panic?

Now with added depression.

Music for the chapter is from Samuel Kim.






It was a vision of terror for anyone with the barest idea of Abyssal force capability and dangers.

It emerged from a realm comparable to hell for any non-Abyssal with enough power to visibly distort the portal it exited.

It made Rear Admiral Julian Tennyworth weak at the knees despite being a recording from two hours ago and half a world away.

"From the mist, a shape, a ship is taking form."

Its arrival had already spread to the top of several social media sites and, like the video currently playing, remixed to popular songs by enterprising civilians.

"And the silence of the seas..."

"Shut that off," Tennyworth slashed a hand downwards.

The video cut off, bringing blessed silence to the Admiralty House's operations room, only to be left with an oppressive silence that made him wish the recording was still playing. But, alas, the Rear Admiral and current head of the Navy's Shipgirl division couldn't tear his eyes from the spine-chilling sight of an Abyssal warship's bow larger than most light cruisers dominating the wall-mounted screen. The view was made all the more terrifying by the shrouded forms of superimposed triple turrets barely visible beyond the portal's edge, muzzles seemingly tracking the officer's every move. Finally, Tennyworth tore his gaze away with a poorly-repressed shudder and put his back to that damnable scene and the titanic issues it presented.

Not even the presence of HMS Dreadnaught by his side brought Julian the oft-needed reassurance the iconic warship presented.

"Gentlemen, Ladies, I'll be blunt," he laid his hands on the drawing table. "I'd have much rather never known Repulse's fate, and that's the honest truth."

The subdued and guilty agreements that met the officer's statement said everything that needed saying about the current mood of the Royal Navy. For one of the Navy's finest missing warships to return as an Abyssal abomination was sobering enough without the added complication of what form the Renown-Class Battlecruiser had taken.

"She didn't deserve that fate, not Repulse," a Captain murmured, removing his cap with a shaking hand. "Of all the things, I..." He trailed off and never finished his sentence.

Another Captain turned to Dreadnaught. "Have you ever seen or heard of a Re-class Princess in that area, Ma'am?"

More than one person in the room cringed at the admission of something previously relegated to theoretical papers and threat guides.

Dreadnaught's lips pursed. "I can't say I have, Captain Williams, nor has there been any chatter from the usual mystical channels..." But, unusually, the first Dreadnaught-Class vessel left things at that.

And that was enough to seize the Rear Admiral's interest.

"Your word choice implies otherwise from less reputable sources, Dreadnaught," Tennyworth noted softly. "The Navy needs to have that information if you know something."

His tight-laced aide spent a moment fiddling with the hem of her armoured petticoat, seemingly doing everything in her power to avoid answering the query. Yet, just when Julian decided to be more forceful, Dreadnaught straightened up and met his gaze, slate-grey fringe doing nothing to disguise the fire in her steely eyes.

"Normally, Sir, I'd refrain from mentioning scuttlebutt in official meetings, let alone one of such importance," her stiff lips quirked upwards in a tiny smile. "But I heard from Barham just the other night, who overheard it from Invincible the last time she visited the Palace, that Victory has been chewing at the bit as of these last couple of months." She looked askance at the now-infamous screenshot. "Word among the old guard is that someone's been taking prize ships into the Navy in the East Indies."

Dead silence followed her pronouncement.

A Commander seconded to the Intelligence Section spoke up. "I'm not sure I heard you correctly, Ma'am, but did you say Prize Ships?"

"That's what the rumours say, Commander," Dreadnaught offered an apologetic shrug. "But, as I said, this is second-hand information and Victory is known for her... Eccentricities."

Rear Admiral Tennyworth rapped his knuckles against the table before the resulting hubbub could destroy all semblance of order. He glared around the room at the handful of junior officers who took longer to quiet down and eventually gave a pleased nod.

"Thank you for the information, Dreadnaught, but it's safe to say that Lady Victory is mistaken in this regard. Let's focus on the real problem at hand: that the Abyssals have stolen Repulse from us and turned her into an abomination."

On cue, the tech-savvy young Lieutenant detached from Bletchley Park's revived Analysis team specifically for this meeting and adjusted the display to show the monster claiming to be a Royal Navy Battlecruiser. More than one officer recoiled on seeing the towering Re-Class writ large across half the far wall, though Julian was unnerved enough by the sight that he hadn't the heart to reprimand them. Blurred-out sidebars hid the stream's live chat from view (a necessity given the depravity shown within), giving the Royal Navy personnel a far too detailed look at the blue-skinned spectre of Abyssal insanity known across the Allied Nations.

The blessedly silent clip showed the disturbingly alluring Re-Hime, to borrow the Japanese parlance, slithering back and forth alongside Singapore's avatar while the pair meandered along a garden path. Seeing a ninth supersized Re apparently conversing happily alongside a neutral Harbour Princess and human advisors without a hint of their unstable nature set off warning bells in Julian's head; moreso than how over-sexualised the abomination was. It was a poorly-kept secret that a great degree of the Kanmusu's public support derived from their universally aesthetically pleasing forms where even the plainest carried themselves in a striking manner. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to avoid the act, the Rear Admiral couldn't not admire the False-Repulse's bountiful curves. There was an allure to the Sea Naga's form that brought to mind that of the ancient Sirens, beautiful maidens devoted to murdering sailors ensnared in their lyrical webs. A distinct lack of clothing bar a distinctively undersized jacket highlighting more than it concealed and an odd-looking metal gauntlet on their right arm likely assisted in that regard.

Which, judging by the expressions around the room, affected both genders equally and hinted at Abyssal foul play.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Sirs and Ma'ams, but you'll want to hear this," the red-haired Lieutenant abruptly said and activated the sound.

Immediately, the distinctive scrape of metal on concrete emerged from discreet speakers for all of a second before the abomination began talking.

"Forgive me for the rudeness, Singapore, but what's the purpose of your aide following us with that device?"

The abomination calling itself Repulse glanced back toward the camera-holder, giving everyone watching the faux-confused expression covering her face's soft contours. Julian wasn't certain what disturbed him more, that the monster had a mild Scottish accent or that it caused the blurred chat to explode into motion.

Singapore followed their gaze. "Yannik's holding a smartphone, my Dear..."

"Oh, I know what a smartphone is," the Re-Hime blithely interrupted offhandedly. "Tobias and Vampire have been doing their best to get me caught up with all the modern gizmos." Here, she blushed a darker blue and lowered her voice. "Though a good portion of my Crew, mostly the pilots, are demanding their own for reasons I fear aren't job-related, if you understand my worries."

What?!

"It pleases me to hear that Vampire and the Commander are in good health with yourself," Singapore smoothly replied without missing a stride. "Then I can tell you that my aide is presently engaged in what's known as a 'Live-Stream' by the younger generations." She smiled up at the Re-Hime and laid a hand on their bruised arm. "Think of it like television that nearly everyone can watch from their smartphones and homes without the bulky equipment we had in our day."

The abomination immediately froze, expression eerily frightened for something Julian knew was faking everything it felt beyond perhaps unrestrained and indiscriminate bloodlust. Its ivory-white braid lashed back and forth as the creature's focus darted between a gently smiling Singapore and the human holding the camera recording the entire thing.

"Does this..." The Sea Naga futilely (and blatantly) fought to close the zipper of its hoodie. "Does that mean the watchers can see all of me?"

"Yannik?"

Things briefly jostled as the smartphone's holder paused to check on something out of view. Curiously, the Lieutenant watching the unedited stream blushed up a storm and tried to hide her face from the Rear Admiral's sight.

"Let me find a good comment, Ma'am," a young man responded in accented English. "Let's see... Ah, here we go! 'I get that the giant Snek Lady can, like, crush my spine like a twig and probably wants to kill us all, but I bet she gives awesome mom hugs.'"

Julian's mind froze in sheer disbelief, coincidently in time for the stream to pause with a perfect shot of the Re-Hime's incredibly mortified expression and extensive blush. He grabbed onto the plotting table for support as his legs wavered, only to see several of his own subordinates nodding along as if that depraved individual had spoken something worth agreeing with! Worst of all was how even Dreadnaught had an indescribable expression on her face, one that sure as hell wasn't revulsion.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Names!" he demanded. "Give me those names!"

Everyone leapt into action, heedless if they were capable of fulfilling the order or not; the Admiral's anger wasn't to be tested. Tennyworth kept an eye on those officers who'd seemed a little too enthused with the depraved comment and only ceased when one of the men in question looked up from his tablet.

"The Australians lost a Hercules near Port Moresby three months back, Sir; HMAS Vampire and one Lieutenant Commander Tobias Williamson were among the passengers." The Captain's brows furrowed before he briefly returned to the tablet. "Tobias Williamson is the grandson of a crewmember from Repulse, Sir, one Lieutenant Carter Williamson, Royal Marines."

He snapped his fingers. "That'd explain why he sounded familiar..." Bile rose in Julian's throat as the implications sunk in. "Dear Lord, that monster's collecting anyone related to Repulse, so we can't get them."

"That... That would appear to be the case, Sir."

Rear Admiral Tennyworth very nearly exploded if not for a slim arm looping through his courtesy of HMS Dreadnaught; her eyes shadowed by a sadness that he knew all too well. He allowed the informal contact for want of a metaphorical shoulder to lean on while he glared at the abomination on the projector, but Julian quickly found himself physically leaning on his aide for support lest he fell. At that moment, the senior officer felt every decade of his fifty-five years and silently cursed the thrice-damned hellspawn for pretending to be Repulse while torturing any soul linked to the Battlecruiser. God only knew what it was doing to the Lieutenant Commander and HMAS Vampire, for Tennyworth hadn't the energy to imagine the horrors being visited upon them.

But there was one thing he needed to head off at the pass.

"Send a message to Bigglesworth up in Scapa Flow and tell him that Renown's being transferred to Halifax," he ordered the Communications Tech. "And make sure she doesn't have internet access; we can't let her see what the Abyss has done to her sister."



Repulse had been gone for two entire hours, and Tobias was already regretting accepting command while she was off visiting Singapore. If God existed, they'd sure as hell gotten a massive kick out of making the first hour and a half peaceful just to lure the Australian into a false sense of security. How much trouble could a naval base full of Abyssals get up to when one of, if not the worst influence in the area, was away?

Toby glared at the octuple Oerlikon some mad bastard had fabricated, or more specifically, the smoking barrels and mound of empty shell casings.

He shifted his ire towards Boa and Python, who ducked their heads and acted for all the world like the embarrassed teenagers they were... If said youths were also several thousand-ton warships able to lay waste to a small town within an hour.

Finally, the Commander sighed, pinched his nose, and turned to find Lily surrounded by a cluster of marines carrying 20mm ammo crates.

"Can someone please explain why you collectively decided to test this abomination," Tobias waved at the AA mounting. "On a perfectly good Sea Fury?" He pointed out towards the bay and the salvaging teams recovering said fighter. "Which I only found out about after you shot it down?"

Lily squeaked, not unlike a boiling kettle and hid her face behind her hands, doing nothing to hide her embarrassed blushing. The marines accompanying her glanced at one another and nigh-immediately set down their crates and pointed at Python, who also squeaked like a kettle. Toby didn't sigh this time and instead blankly stared at Boa until she reluctantly stopped playing with her hair and met his eyes.

"Y'know how Mum's got those octuple Bofors mountings? Well, they take up a bunch of space, so Bob," one of the Marines frantically waved his claws to no effect. "Figured we could, like, make a 20mm version that isn't so heavy for Lily."

Python picked up the story. "'Course, then we needed to see how well it tracked aircraft, and there's an entire airfield of them over there..."

"I think you mean the airfield full of aircraft, which isn't supposed to be used as target practice." Toby took a calming breath despite the ache in his ribs. "Right, I'm far too sober for this bullshit, so can I at least tell Repulse that the loss was worth it?"

Nervous shuffling (and slithering from the Naga twins) answered the Commander, prompting a defeated groan before he turned around and walked away from this mess. Unfortunately, he wasn't being paid to deal with this crap, and the only positive he could look forward to was Repulse berating her wayward daughters when she returned. Now, if only he could stop Vampire's horrified dive into the Snek Shed's enormous archive of theoretical upgrades and refits, Toby could have a measure of peace and quiet.

And then a burst of cannon fire behind him heralded the downing of another fucking Sea Fury.

Sometimes, Lieutenant Commander Williamson wished he'd perished in that plane crash... He shook his head with a scowl and shoved those fatalistic thoughts into the deepest corner of his mind, where they belonged.



"I do understand that this comes from the Admiralty, Sir, but why Halifax?"

Renown felt guilty voicing her confusion, but she genuinely didn't understand why she was being sent across the Atlantic when she was doing such good in the North Sea. Commodore Bigglesworth said nothing as he gazed out his office's windows toward the Fog-shrouded anchorage, fingers playing with the tips of his moustache before he glanced over his shoulder.

"I don't know, Renown; I only received the orders damn near half an hour ago during breakfast."

The guilt returned stronger than ever, bringing to mind an alarming number of reasons for the abrupt orders that had the Battlecruiser trembling in her boots. Her crew's reassurances fell on deaf ears as Renown clutched the hem of her skirt in a desperate attempt to keep her hands from shaking. Why, oh why, the warship thought, was she being sent off to Canada when her place was here, defending Britain's shores with all her ability? She found no answers in the depths of her memories, merely painful reminders of an empty shared berth and keel-deep loneliness that drove Renown to address her Commodore rather than face it.

"When am I to depart, Sir?"

A flicker of something dark crossed the officer's moustachioed face. "Immediately, Renown. No time for goodbyes, I'm afraid, and I am sorry about that." He wavered in place before approaching and squeezing the Battlecruiser's shoulder. "I wish I could provide the answers you seek, but I can't."

Renown was too busy feeling the world crumble beneath her keel to pick over his ambiguous closing statement, worry for her fleetmates driving the Shipgirl to straighten and snap a perfect salute. It was the proper, British thing to do, which is what she told herself when Commodore Bigglesworth backed away and returned the gesture with a sad smile. Neither exchanged further words before Renown departed the officer, leaving her home and its commander for the last five years behind her as surely as if she'd steamed away at full speed. Those few Shipgirls present at this hour hurried to clear the Battlecruiser's path toward the nearest docks, not even stopping when Ajax's sleepy head emerged from her dorm to call after Renown. She knew as surely as her service record that daring to stop and chat was a quick path to an emotional outburst unbecoming of a warship of Her Majesty the Queen.

And yet, Renown still paused at the pier's edge and silently waited for a greatcoat-clad Shipgirl to emerge from the dense fogbanks. The compact steel-grey Dreadnaught doffed her peaked cap and waved it toward the British warship, inviting her to take to the waves and gently skate over.

"Guten Morgen, my friend!" Kronprinz Wilhelm greeted, though her smile faltered upon seeing Renown's expression. "What ails you this morn?"

"I'm to depart for Halifax, effective immediately. Admiralty's orders were delivered to the Commodore when he was breaking fast."

The Konig's lips pursed. "That sounds, ah, how do you English put it? Fishy, to say the least." She placed an arm around her taller companion's shoulders and orientated westwards. "Nevertheless, I will accompany you as far as I can, Renown."

No matter how bleak the current situation was, Renown still smiled at the German Dreadnaught's offer and nodded in thanks as the pair headed towards the harbour's mouth. She hadn't known Kronprinz would show up when she paused at the pier, yet emerged her friend had without so much as a warning. The gesture was tiny in the grand scheme of things, yet the Battlecruiser appreciated it and carefully leaned into her friend's embrace, trying not to unbalance the compact veteran of the High Seas Fleet. But, alas, they reached the point of no return far too soon for Renown's liking, yet her attempt to slip free encountered unexpected resistance from the other warship.

"Kronprinz, I really must be going," she tried to escape the grip. "I can't stay..."

A gloved finger reached up and flicked the Battlecruiser right between the eyes.

"Sometimes, I wonder how you English function without us Germans around to state the obvious," Kronprinz donned her cap with an amused snort. "I said I shall accompany you as far as I can, Renown, and my word is my honour."

"B-But... Your fleetmates?!" Renown waved back the way they'd come. "What happened to staying and guarding your sunken brethren until they return?"

Her fellow warship shrugged and summoned her entire rigging, all five of her turrets whirring quietly as the crews checked the mechanisms. Renown had to wait until Kronprinz had tested her rarely-deployed equipment to the point of excess before they turned shrouded amber eyes her way.

"Konig and Markgraf will return when the time is right, my Friend," they responded serenely with a slight uptick of their lips that lacked any warmth. "I would rather face the Drums from the Deep with a loyal companion at my side than alone guarding the graves of fallen siblings."

Translation: Kronprinz wanted to have Renown nearby to sink her if she finally gave up hope and answered the Abyss' call.

The Battlecruiser could only nod once, leaving unsaid that her companion's choice ran both ways as she took the lead and finally slipped free of their embrace. Informing the Commodore about Kronprinz's departure from Scapa Flow never even entered Renown's mind, especially not with the sting of betrayal still fresh in her heart of hearts. Unbidden, her Captain took the opportunity to whistle a song that the lead ship of the Renown-Class swiftly echoed into the foggy morning air. It earned her a side-eyed look from the German Dreadnaught before they too joined in, the pair harmonising as only two close friends could.

Or sisters, if either warship still had sisters to sail by their side...



Singapore paused her tour upon finding that Repulse had fallen behind her and was gazing off westward with shining eyes brimming with unshed tears. She managed a step toward the towering Princess before they began whistling a nigh-imperceptible rendition of 'We'll Meet Again', prompting a gesture at Yannik to pause the stream. Then, as her aide sorted that out, Singapore hesitantly moved past the Re-Class' twitching Tail-Head to find thick tears rolling down Repulse's cheeks. It was a minor miracle that the immediate area hadn't become a deluge the moment Repulse started crying, and it was one which continued as they kept whistling the same haunting tune Singapore knew all too well.

The Harbour Princess gently grasped Repulse's limp hand and squeezed despite the genuine danger of her companion tearing her avatar to pieces if they snapped. Singapore would recover so long as her facilities were intact, not that it made the act of reconstitution any less painful and draining. Then again, none of that mattered when Repulse needed her support, even if the elder Princess had a feeling that the Re-Hime wanted someone in particular.


But, until then, Singapore would happily hold Repulse's hand for as long as her friend needed, no questions asked.



Something a little sadder today, Folks, but then the Admiralty's response was always going to invoke that.

Till next time!
 
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Omake: Toby Can't Catch A Break 2.
Snek!Toby might live in the Apocrypha section, but she lives on in my Muse's heart.

Music for the chapter is from The Score.




Toby leant back in his chair with a pleased sigh and put his feet up on the desk just because he could.

Bloody hell, he was damn glad to be back in his proper body after far too long as a particularly impressive Battlecruiser... The officer rubbed his head at the errant thought and did his best to enjoy being able to fit in Human-sized areas again. Say what you will about Port George, but it wasn't entirely Sea Naga accessible, especially with the kind of figure Toby had been cursed with. He cracked open an eye in time to wave out the window at a passing Marine for no reason beyond that he could. The crab didn't wave back, being too busy holding a massive bucket aloft, but their eye stalk bobbed in the Australian's direction regardless.

Repulse's Marines were all kinds of bullshit, and Toby was saying that after a week of watching his crew train with the crazy bastards.

Regarding crew, Tobias luxuriated in the peaceful lack of the background clamouring and a particularly sarcastic Koala that had been a constant presence in his mind as a ship. Getting to say that he'd been a motherfucking Warship for a week was something the officer never expected to say, but the cursed suit of armour he'd worn did precisely that. Thankfully, there was no sign of thrice-damned ghostly Sea Lords, not that it stopped Toby from interrupting his chill time to search around the officer just in case. Earning Repulse's ire for disparaging her metaphorical father was worth it, if only to keep Jackie Fisher from having any more fun ideas.

"I can't believe I just thought that," he muttered with an eye roll.

He found himself half-expecting a return quip from his Captain, only to shake his head and sigh when nothing occurred. Tobias couldn't believe he was missing the asshole Koala... But they'd been a good sort, if prone to snarking about his displacement as a Sea Naga shipgirl. A hurried glance downward confirmed the officer hadn't reverted to a white-scaled snek lady; it wasn't paranoia when magic and mischievous First Sea Lords were involved. Movement from outside distracted Toby, resolving into three more of Repulse's Marines bearing containers larger than their torsos, and that piqued the officer's interest. He wasn't aware of anything going on with the insane crabs at the moment, but then again, he'd rushed here when the armour was removed, and he became Human again. Clearly, something was happening to involve so many of the Marines, which meant Toby had a duty to ensure they weren't being idiots.

Again.

Tobias was already halfway to the door before his brain caught up with his body and encouraged the curious behaviour. So, armed with mild curiosity and a desire to do something other than run circles in his mind, he left the admittedly sparse office and headed outside. Muffled curses from the shut door heralded someone trying and failing to open the door, prompting Toby to do his good deed for the day and open it for whoever wanted in. He got as far as pulling the jammed handle down with a grunt before the solid metal swung inwards alongside a deluge of glowing pink liquid. The reeling Australian caught a brief glimpse of Brenny windmilling before he was drenched from head to toe in the mysterious fluid and the fucking bucket landed on his head. A sensation not unlike a full-body static shock wracked the officer's body which, alongside the bucket's impact, left him stunned, blind and cursing up a (muffled) storm while trying to remove the obstruction.

"Why don't ya put your turbines into it, Lass?"

Time slowed to a crawl as an all-too-familiar voice echoed inside Toby's head, prompting a strangled gasp that was far too high-pitched to blame on the bucket. The Lieutenant Commander took a deep breath, prayed to God that he hadn't just heard a certain smug bastard speak, and pulled the unfortunately present mental lever to peer inside himself. Her Captain waved back in all his buff Koala glory, though their unfamiliar surroundings and uniform killed Toby's vicious retort. Gone were the archaic WW2 outfits and equipment, replaced by dated yet recognisable Navy camos and electronics alongside a smaller bridge crew. So, unsure as to what in the hell happened, the Human-turned-Sea Naga was forced to swallow her pride and ask the one being who'd know what was going on.

"Can..." Toby winced at how high-pitched she sounded. "What the hell am I this time, you bastard?"

Her Captain chewed the stem of his pipe and grinned. "No need for that language, Young Lady; I'm just a humble sailor in the Royal Australian Navy..."

Toby snarled deep in her throat.

"Invincible-Class Light Aircraft Carrier; Twelve Sea Harriers and four Merlin helicopters on deck." He blew a ring of smoke. "Gotta admit, the digs on this hull are way better than Fisher's dick compensator; we even get showers!"

No way... Awareness exploded in the Commander's mind, confirming her status as an Invincible-Class Carrier and, sure as hell, not a 50k+ ton Battlecruiser designed by a man with more money than sense. Toby's first instinct was to curse all the Gods out there for her rotten luck on turning into a Sea Naga a second time, but then the bucket was torn off her head. She spent a moment blinking away the glare to find Repulse gazing down at her with undeniable concern and perhaps a little confusion which quickly morphed into affection. But, unfortunately for the Light Carrier, she got as far as brushing her platinum blonde (what was it with this hair shade?!) fringe out of her eyes before being pulled face-first into a pillowy hug.

"Batten down the hatches, Lads and Lasses," her Captain shouted through the intercom. "We're gonna be in this lovely spot for a long while!"

Toby's face lit up like a beacon even as she struggled against the Superdreadnaught's inexorable grip to no effect, quickly realising that she hadn't a hope of escaping the embarrassing hug without the Devil's own luck. A sixth-sense the Light Carrier mentally translated as her radar gave her advanced warning for when Repulse began stroking the thick blonde locks blocking everything from view.

"I'm oh so sorry for this terrible mishap, Commander," the clingy Sea Naga apologised. "But don't you worry, I've scolded Brenny and assigned him latrine duty for the next month."

"Whyyyyyyyyyyy!" Came from somewhere behind Repulse.

That... That wasn't an answer as to why Toby was now an Invincible-Class carrier and not an Incomparable-Class Battlecruiser, but she'd be lying if she said it didn't comfort her. For all that Repulse was akin to a very shapely force of nature that couldn't be controlled; the Lieutenant Commander could feel the warships' concern radiating off her in waves. Which, when combined with a desire to avoid knowing what she looked like as long as possible, had Tobias relaxing against the Supercapital's chest and taking her enjoyment where she could. It wouldn't help come time to pull away and face the music, but the Light Carrier was in agreement with her crew that the amazing hug took precedence over boring shit.

"Hey, Repulse, have you seen Tobes around?"

Oh, God, oh bloody fuck, she couldn't be allowed to see Toby like this!

Unusually, the Light Carrier couldn't hear the hiss of Vampire's wheelchair as she undoubtedly approached the Re-Hime from behind. Toby's frantic attempts to escape died the instant Repulse noticed and hugged her tighter, leaving her conflicted between embarrassed panic and a steadily growing sense of comfort. She tried to pull away a final time, got a gentle hand on her back for the trouble, and the Light Carrier resigned herself while her Captain chuckled like a madman.

"Hold up; why's Brenny looking like someone's kicked him in his non-existent balls?" Vampire asked from far too close. "And what's with that look? You'd think I'd asked if..."

Tobias cringed against Repulse when her friend trailed off, meaning they'd spotted her new appearance, which meant...

"SON OF A BITCH; IT'S BEEN FIVE FUCKING HOURS!"

"There's no need for that sort of language, Repulse calmly chided. "Lieutenant Commander Williamson shouldn't have to hear that after her accident."

The officer in question emphatically nodded, only to rapidly shake her head when the Supercapital took that as permission to release the hug and expose her to outside scrutiny. A week's worth of long hair had Toby tucking her fringe behind her ears and struggling not to blush as Vampire's disbelieving expression took front and centre stage of the hallway. Beyond the impending teasing the Naga knew was coming, it took her a long few seconds to notice that she was damn near the same height as Vampire despite towering over them as an Incomparable and a Human...

Wait a moment, were those feet peeking out from beneath the V-Class' greatcoat?

"Holy shit," The Carrier squeaked. "When'd you get legs?!"

"Around the time you lost yours, Short Snek," Vampire fired back. "Shit, you're barely taller than me!"

A hand courtesy of a stern Repulse landed without warning on each Shipgirl's shoulder, firm without being painful yet undeniably the grip of a displeased capital ship. Toby had time to enjoy watching her Captain fall out of his seat in surprise at the sneaky Re-Hime before embarrassment had her avoiding Repulse's gaze. Her only consolation was seeing Vampire mumbling something under their breath with a beet-red face, though it wasn't much of a silver lining right now, given she'd once again become a Sea Naga.

"There's a time and a place for foul language, and right after an accident like this is certainly not one of those," Repulse blessedly turned to Vampire. "Now, Girls, we're going to try that again without unbecoming language, understand?"

The chastised pair shared an understanding look, united in mutual embarrassment.

"Yes, Ma'am," they chorused.

Repulse held her grip for a moment longer before offering a proud smile that hit Toby way harder than she expected. So, fighting back a happy grin of her own, she nervously played with her hair and met Vampire's eyes.

"I saw some of Repulse's Marines carrying buckets outside and went to see what the fuss was about," the Carrier shot Brenny a smouldering glare, making him cringe. "So I opened the door for Brenny 'cause he couldn't get in... And then he poured that dam... Darn bucket over me."

Oh, how she wanted to curse until she was blue in the face, yet seeing a certain prim and proper Supercapital's pleased expression sucked away the irritation. Toby wasn't sure how much was lingering enjoyment from the earlier marshmallow hug or just wanting to please Repulse, but the response was still self-censoring herself to avoid attracting the Supercapital's disappointment. Vampire smirked at the blatant censorship and opened her mouth to snark, only to immediately shut it when that attracted Chompy's attention. The tail-head glared at her with sightless eyes a moment longer before chuffing and returning to making faces at a miserable-looking Brenny.

"I, uh, got fixed up thanks to Repulse mixing up her own take on a Repair Bath," Vampire admitted with a smile. "I rushed here 'cause I wanted to show you and make up for the..." She sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck, cheeks dusting red. "Y'know, the things I said about you last week?"

Toby folded her arms beneath her blessedly much smaller (and uniformed) bust, knowing her friend's sense of humour too well to accept that at face value. No way in hell was Vampire sorry about the many, many oil tanker comments, which was another plus regarding her current form. The Carrier left her friend stewing and gave herself a quick once-over to reassure her that she hadn't reverted to Jackie Fisher's Dick Compensator. Good old jelly bean camo greeted her eyes over a figure more akin to a Light Cruiser than the incredibly thick barge she'd been, though the addition of sleek armoured inserts wasn't a standard issue. Toby made a show of checking her cuffs and briefly glaring at her Captain until the bastard did up his jacket's clasps before eventually favouring the nervously shifting Vampire with a toothy grin.

"You're forgiven, Vamp," she told the shocked Destroyer. "Both for calling me short..."

"But you're freakin tiny compared to last time!"

The Carrier ignored the interruption and slithered close to hug her friend. "I might be tiny, Vampire, but want to know what I've got now?"

While Toby couldn't see Vampire's expression, her bridge crew were more than happy to relay the nervousness creeping across their face. She fought to keep her shit-eating grin hidden behind an impassive mask as she leaned in close and whispered into the Destroyer's ear.

"I'm an Invincible-Class Light Carrier, Vamp; with Sea Harriers and SAMs~."

Was it evil to relay that she was so much more advanced than the V-Class when they'd done the same to her when she'd been an Incomparable?

Maybe, but Toby relished Vampire stiffening in her grip and shaking their head in denial, though the mouthful of silver hair needing spat out wasn't intended or wanted. Now, the Carrier wasn't an evil person (or ship snek, as was the case here and last week), so she gave her friend a final squeeze before backing away to better enjoy the Destroyer's expression of abject denial. The irritating little perverts that called themselves Toby's crew redeemed themselves by turning various mounted and handheld cameras Vampire's way, ensuring that the moment would be forever available as perfect blackmail.

But, alas, continuing the playful torment wasn't to be, for Repulse picked that moment to sneak up behind the very smug Snek Carrier and... Start braiding her hair? Toby glanced over her shoulder up at the Supercapital that nigh-immediately had deceptively strong hands making her face Vampire again before returning to their work.

"Don't think I'm letting you ruin your wonderful head of hair, Lieutenant Commander, not after the mess you left it these last few days." Repulse's chiding was gentle, yet Toby blushed anyway. "Lord knows I'm of half a mind to let my Captain have a frank discussion with yours regarding proper grooming for a Navy Officer."

Toby's Captain, the unbearably smug bastard he was, fell off his chair in terror and made her smirk at the well-deserved comeuppance for the buff Koala. But unfortunately, her delight was short-lived while Repulse continued steadily braiding her admittedly incredibly long platinum blonde locks.

"Until we get this mishap sorted out, I expect you to behave in a manner becoming an officer of the Royal Australian Navy; no more acting like a hooligan just because Vampire's rubbed off on you."

The Destroyer in question wasn't amused. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean?!"

"You hunt fish with depth charges, Vampire, to say nothing of teaching my daughter how to cheat at cards."

Toby nodded along in agreement until the last statement registered, prompting her to hold a hand up. "Don't you mean daughters, Repulse?"

The Supercapital's bemusement would have been laugh-worthy if not for the fact that she was entirely genuine in her confusion. Toby's own confusion grew when the thick Sea Naga shook her head and lazily gestured at a cringing Brenny trying to hide inside his shell to no avail.

"I meant what I said, Dear; Sergeant Brenny was the one to teach Boa and Python how to cheat," here, she levelled a mild glare at the quivering shell. "Something he still hasn't given a good excuse for several months after the fact."

His muttered, 'it seemed like a good idea at the time', was the only thing Toby could blame for not catching on to Repulse's meaning for several excruciating minutes. It took long enough that the far larger Sea Naga had finished braiding her hair and carefully throwing it over a shoulder before the Carrier's face erupted into a blush to beat anything that'd come prior. She covered her face with her hands to hide it, which, unfortunately, left her blindsided when Vampire started laughing her ass off.

"Oh, this is worth you getting all the amazing modern shit, Tobes," her shit-eating grin was clearly audible between snatches of uncontrollable giggles. "Thick Snek considers you one of her kids, and there's nothing you can do about..." Vampire abruptly cut off with a squeak.

That had Toby cracking an eye open to find an unamused-looking Repulse holding the V-Class off the ground by her greatcoat's collar. The Supercapital side-eyed the Light Carrier and offered her a tender smile that hit her right in the feels before addressing the squirming Destroyer in their grip.

"Vampire?"

"Y-Yes, Ma'am?"

"No bullying your sister; it's terribly rude."

Vampire's dawning realisation was a balm for Toby's healthy embarrassment and let her memory hole certain earlier events in favour of smirking behind Repulse's back. The V-Class earned herself a gentle shake when she tried to glare back, forcing her to meet Repulse's stern look and appear apologetic. However, someone must have been watching out for the Snekky Carrier, for the usually oblivious Repulse saw right through the deception and slithered away, Vampire still held in front of her like a lantern. Toby mutely watched the odd pair leave the building, not quite believing what she'd just witnessed, and then turned to a cautiously uncurling Brenny.

"I'll get Repulse off your back if you do nothing but train my Marines for the next week."

It said leagues about the beret-wearing crab's current state that he started nodding his eye stalks before he'd gotten to his feet.

"Throw in a bottle of the good stuff you Aussies love, and we've got a deal."

Toby winced. "I... I, uh, don't have any." She despaired with every word. "The Royal Australian Navy's a dry one..."

Brenny crossed the distance between them and laid a consoling claw on the Light Carrier's shoulder.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Missy."

She was missing her booze (and ability to get drunk) too much to protest the title.

God, how did any Shipgirl function without alcohol to subdue the idiots they called a crew?



Repulse goes full Mom-Mode on the Smoller Tobes, much to her and Vampire's consternation. ;)
 
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NHO Plushy Re-pulse Commission
Due to my persistent brain-bug of reading Re-pulsed as "Re-plushed" and to commemorate one year anniversary of the last update, allow me to present:

Commemorative full-size huggable Repulse plush toy. (an image)

BEHOLD.

Art by bastianmage on twitter, no link due to nature of his other art.
 
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Interlude One
Let me preface this with an important announcement and thanks to Tomb Spyder for giving me the confidence to ask this.

I'll be updating this through the vagarities of my Muse, but I've also got financial reasons to try and see about getting commissioned for the shit I write. I need the money, and I'm losing nothing by trying this.

If you want to see more guaranteed Re-pulse chapters, Ko-fi link is here and the details are all there.

Music for the chapter is from Dominik Witka (Time To Level Up)





The Mariana Trench.

Abyssal stronghold, absolute depth of the ocean, and formerly a site of semi-frequent visits by Human unmanned vehicles on scientific expeditions.

Now, the Challenger Deep served as a meeting point for a cluster of murky shades arrayed in a lumpen circle, rendered uneven and disputed due to several absent members. Floating a foot above the bone-white sand if they'd possessed feet, the indistinct presences were little more than hazy outlines lit by two actinic blue spots of light in place of eyes. Calling these unfeeling pinpricks of cyan "eyes" lent them humanity and existence absent at this most hallowed of borders where the Abyss met the Ocean. A singular occult steel chain, forged of links thicker than your average I-class, rose amidst the circle's embrace to extend into the gloom whence it vanished. Some six thousand fathoms overhead, the impossibly lengthy chain terminated in an unremarkably modest floating platform used by those whose spirits lacked the critical resolve to delve into the trench and survive.

Many would loudly proclaim that the entities capable of surviving Challenger Deep were far too esoteric to regard as living beings. For the Installation Royals, linchpins of the eldritch Abyssal machine from whence the material of war flowed commanded powers far beyond mortal ken. Armed with spells and incantations capable of, among other things, transporting entire convoys halfway across the globe in a storm of lightning and hail, the installations were the centrepiece of many a campaign against humanity and their kanmusu slaves. As befitting their royal status, only the sheer distance between the respective Princesses kept them from each other's throats, such was the animosity shared by the siblings.

"WHO THOUGHT IT WAS A WISE IDEA TO CREATE A CANIBALISTIC SUPER-RE?!"

And like all siblings, they fought and blamed their kin for their own woes.

"DON'T YOU DARE BLAME US FOR THIS, TRUK!"

Defiant and lanky in spirit to the end, Truk Installation Princess's bobbing cyan orbs whirled and spat gaseous faux-fire at Rabaul. Short-lived and utterly inconsequential at this depth, what with the royal devoting nearly her entire spirit to maintaining her avatar, the noxious green flames invoked an outraged hiss from another sister entirely. Unlike Rabaul, Midway soothed her metaphorical feathers with a silent expulsion of water from her vicinity before she addressed the royals in a voice of crackling fires and bubbling pops.

"Were it so easy to shift blame, then I would have already flattened Truk for her idiocy." Midway paused for an outburst that never materialised. "Alas, she's innocent in this latest folly."

"How can you be so sure?" Newfoundland questioned.

"Because Truk already has a Re-class in her fleet."

Midway's shade brushed across the lamentably sparse gathering of equals, noting which of those who cringed in self-aware pity and those who lingered, defiantly witless in the face of a blindingly obvious truth. Finding far too many in the latter camp for her liking, the Warden of the Eastern Seas allowed her shade to waver as she drew upon her spirit to lay down a mystical beating left unleashed for far too long...

"Where's Singapore? A rogue she may be, but if there is any among us who can discern the twisted mind of a Re, it is she."

Several among the ground mimed spitting in disgust in the wake of Guam's abrupt declaration, their loathing for the most powerful of the Border Installations plain even at the bottom of the ocean, first among them Sevastopol. Yet just as many turned considering looks, insomuch as nigh-intangible projections could manage, toward the nondescript royal.

"Let it be known that I reject any and all contact with that smug bitch." Sevastopol declared with her characteristic bullish arrogance

Dogger Bank snorted. "Of course, you'd say that, Sev. Give it a rest already; I'm getting tired of hearing you whine and mewl every time Singapore's brought up."

"Because none of you Western princesses can be bothered to take her threat seriously! We stand on the precipice every day that we allow the Jewel of the East to straddle our two worlds!"

A soft wave of agreeing murmurs met Sevastapol's incensed outburst.

"Enough."

Midway's voice was as clear as crystal and audible to all this time.

"We can stand here debating the sanctions Singapore deserves to be levied on her... Or we can figure out what to do with the Super-Re." The Warden of the East's tone brooked no argument. "Are we in agreement at last?"

Unseen by her fellow installations, Midway's physical form leant back in her chair with a relieved groan, fingers massaging the aching base of her singular horn for some blessed relief. It wouldn't do for her neutral facade- insomuch as the Abyssals possessed such- to crack and stumble at this critical junction, after all.

"All those with Re-class aviation battleships in your fleets, raise your hands."

Nine royals, Truk included, did as requested as best as their lesser spirits could manage.

That was enough for Midway as her diamond-hard eyes flashed cyan. "How would you satiate an erratic Re with no Mistress?

"Bribed with enchanted steel!"

"Feed them Wa's of increasing value until the Re has gorged herself on their metal bones and is thus ripe for capture."

"Assault them with overwhelming force and dispose of the mad beast before it thinks to consume us all."

For their work, Midway casually met the merciless faux eyes of her more intelligent sisters before kneeling down to grab a handful of bone-white sand. The strain on her magical core increased exponentially as the sandy grains began slipping through her wavering hand, which was the Warden of the East's cue to let the sand pour between her open fingers. Far away from the sacred circle, the awed auras of her sisters drew a prideful smirk across Midway's palid features. It never failed to amuse her how easily the others were impressed by parlour tricks and shows of soul power through a shade such as this.

"All workable plans," Midway began, only to make a fist. "And utterly useless when the Re in question is 130k tons of issues, if not larger. We've all received the reports about this Super-Re's unnatural behaviour, aye?"

Hesitant nods answered her, even from those like Sevastopol, who would jump into an argument as eagerly as slaughtering humans for sport. Interestingly, the Black Sea royal extruded a soul-deep concern that was regrettably too diffuse to lock down and plunder for emotional secrets.

Perchance.

"We fell into the trap of assuming the abomination would hew to the behaviours of her class-kith, a failure attributed to no one royal in particular." Truk and Rabaul shuffled in place at that. "The Deep Drums only know how much supplies that monster consumes on a day-to-day basis. For all we know, it's been eating the Light Cruiser Low Princesses' wrecked fleet to supplement a food supply unprepared for a vessel its size."

"Then what can we do?" Guam sounded more than a little desperate. "If we can't control the beast, stuff it into a food coma or destroy it with military force, what do we have?"

Much as the idea stuck in Midway's craw, she wasn't so delusional after witnessing Re-pulse traverse the Depths-Between with nary a scratch. However, that didn't mean her physical form wasn't ready to kill any unfortunate minion to enter her office. Flexing the occult steel claws of her hands to catch the wan morning light, Midway Island Princess took a steadying breath to calm her thoughts and forced out a quartet of slimy, disgusting words.

"We entreat with Re-pulse."

Chaos erupted, but it was a chaos she was adept at weaving.

Now, if only that damned barge of a Re-class could kill Singapore in her base, then she'd be killing two sharks with one harpoon.




Whistling under her breath, Singapore shook off an errant and unexpected chill in her bones and returned to slathering thick globs of anti-fouling paint across Re-pulse's back. Mindful of the countless overlapping bruises speckled across the seemingly delicate blue scales, the Installation Princess resisted the urge to adjust her glasses and kept spreading the sludge inch by inch. She felt hundreds of judgemental eyes following her progress courtesy of Re-pulse's hidden crew, the tiny beings waiting for Singapore to slip up and take over the job to preserve their home's honour.

Personally, Singapore found the pouty little gremlins to be adorably protective of the aviation superdreadnought.

Drawing another handful from internal storage, the royal worked the paste into Re-pulse's tense shoulder. "Not to come across as an overbearing nag, dear friend, but did it ever occur to you that dodging shells would better preserve your finish?"

A muffled chuckle escaped the endless pillows of the sea naga's bust where her face resided for the duration of the maintenance session. Being face down took away far too much of Re-pulse's beauty in Singapore's mind. The mutant Re's soft cheeks, subtly mature features and expansive curves across both halves of her serpentine hull were a delight to witness from afar, let alone being allowed to apply the anti-fouling coating by hand. Up close and personal in Singapore's office, with Re-pulse stripped off her ill-fitting outfit -a garish and awfully tailored shirt provided by her crew- it was nigh-impossible to find an undamaged armour plate on the Re's back. The royal knew that asking Re-pulse to roll over to work on the front would be an impossible task if she dared ask, and it was indeed a dare.

And yet, Re-pulse's implicit and hopelessly naive trust of the harbour princess ran so deep that she accepted the offer to apply the coating the instant it was made.

The ludicrously long and oily white hair crowning the sea naga's devoted head shifted across Singapore's work as its owner raised herself just enough to clear the marshmallow embrace of her own bosom. Not even the harbour princess knew how the Re swam underwater with fuel bunkers of such prodigious size and heft other than to weakly blame it on internal magicks.

"I discovered quite swiftly that the Innies tended to break and run when they saw their naval rifles shatter on my armour," Re-pulse extolled face tanking armour piercing shells with infuriatingly buttery smooth recollection. "Say what you will about the Jerries, but that Krupp group of theirs know their business when it comes to face-hardened steel. As for the lamentable state of my finish..." Here, a curious shiver wracked Re-pulse's oiled shoulders. "Would it behove you to inquire with your quartermasters regarding these "repair buckets" I've heard so much about?"

Frowning, Singapore worked the next batch into the sea naga's scales, perhaps a tad too forcibly, given the resulting strangled grunt which reached her ears.

"Just because the cracked plates sting doesn't mean you need to find and waste a repair bucket on them, my dear." Laying a mostly clean hand on the blue skin, she rubbed careful circles with her thumb. "Trust me in this, I know when an armour plate's far beyond saving, and none of yours fit the bill." Here, a giggle slipped free and eliminated the frown. "With that said, I must profess I lack a slip suited for your..."

"Vampire needs new legs."

Was that a hint of petulance in the motherly aviation superdreadnought's voice?

"I may have a few to spare," Singapore stressed. "But why use a repair bucket to fix Vampire when we can have her and that human officer smuggled through my customs and back to their allies? Surely Vampire can wait until she gets back home?"

Her careful ministrations slowed, then halted altogether when Re-pulse refused to answer, apparently content to lie on her front in some degree of discomfort rather than give a simple response. An imp work party materialised onto the sea naga's shoulder blade with mops and buckets of anti-fouling fluid in hand, only to be chased back inside by a crab marine. Singapore watched the odd little team funnel back inside a hatch before releasing a perplexed sigh that at least elicited a response to her typical query.

"They're coming home with me."

It took the harbour princess' mind a handful of seconds to comprehend the thickset, heady blend of possessive desire and wonder colouring every one of Re-pulse's words with a honeyed glaze.

"My dear... Re-pulse, you can't just kidnap a human officer and a Kanmusu, not if you wish to be considered a neutral ally of convenience!"

"Why not?"

Roaring boilers sent pinpricks of heat up Singapore's splayed fingers until she recovered enough wits to jerk the limbs back and away from the stressed set to Re-pulse's mighty shoulders. It was easy to view the unbroken softness on the surface as the be-all-that-ends-all, yet Singapore had felt the power which lurked underneath the blubbery exterior and felt a minuscule stirring of genuine fear. Her office, once perfectly cosy with Re-pulse's multi-ton bulk filling one side, now felt awfully stifling, leading to the flustered harbour princess tugging at her shirt's tight collar as the nervous thoughts multiplied.

Glazed from head to tail in anti-fouling paint, Re-pulse's unexpected rise to her full, unadorned height would have been incredible if not for the determined set of the buxom sea naga's beautiful features.

"All of my old fleetmates and crew will find a home with me on Naval Base George. This I promise on the power of my eternal soul, with Queen Elizabeth II as my witness!"

When the urge to facepalm crossed Singapore's mind, she accepted the slap of flesh hitting flesh and fading sting with the exhausted slump of parents dealing with petulant children everywhere.

"Legally, that's still kidnapping and looked down upon by the humans."

Re-pulse folded her arms under her chest for reasons which hopefully weren't as provocative as it resulted in.

"They're mine to keep safe."

"Dear, it's kid..."

"Mine. To keep."

"Re-pulse..."

"Mine."

Oh Deep Abyss, this was going to take a while, wasn't it?



Only a short interlude to get me back into the swing of things, then the next chapter will be full length.

Till next time, my Abyssal friends.
 
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Ooh La Wa (Canon Omake)
This is a little something I needed to expel from my mind before I get started on the next true chapter. It's got enough links to the main story that I figured I can keep it as a canon omake.

Music for the chapter is from Slash (30 Years To Life)





"You continue to perform... adequately, Wa."

Stoic in the face of that bilge-churning voice, I poured every fibre of my eldritch being into embodying my class's docile passivity. I'd have failed months ago if I'd possessed a recognisable face, but the toothed headpiece quite literally bolted over what remained of my head eliminated those facial tells. And in that vein, my pallid, weak arms were too securely shackled to so much as twitch, let alone fidget enough to expose my inner thoughts. The sole hint that I wasn't a mentally crippled icon of my class was the furtive twitches of my leg stumps hidden deep within the bloated, overloaded ball of abyssal steel, biomechanical interfaces and machinery constituting the bulk of a Wa-class transport.

Sensing a shift in the damp sea air, I cringed as one of my Mistress' clawed gauntlets traced a stinging furrow across the lumpen pudge of my humanoid upper half's midriff. While no great beauty by Abyssal standards, let alone Human or Kanmusu, I still lamented the damage within the privacy of my caged mind. But like every obedient Wa bound to a Princess, I couldn't react as my owner and captor briefly pressed her talons into the buckling hull plating holding together through the rivet's valiant efforts. Horrifically aware that a few more pounds of pressure would puncture the already leaking fuel bunkers located there, I let slip a pitiful low of distress to feed the bitch's sadistic needs. East Timor giggled and pulled back as I blindly looked toward the biting lines left in my thin hull, apparently blessedly content with leaving a mark that wouldn't require repairs.

This time.

Sometimes, being functionally blind saved my fat aft, and today was no different. East Timor's spiritual presence briefly overpowered me like a leaden blanket covered in hooks before she grew bored of my domesticated existence. Her bestial lower half growled and huffed, expelling stinking, sulphuric air across my deck, and then the Princess walked off without another word. I remained floating at the dockside for half an hour longer in terrified silence that this was the day my rusted hull was pulled into the breaker forge until a sliver of common sense won out. A sailor retrieved the signal flags from their locker and risked annihilation by sticking their head outside the hatch.

When East Timor's spiritual presence didn't immediately pop the nervous gremlin like a well-fed tick, they sprinted across my deck to the bow and began signalling for a tug.

I, meanwhile, turned my attention inward to the dilapidated corridors of my hull. Gremlins in threadbare, unmarked uniforms emerged from hiding to return to their posts with nervous speed. No sailor managed to move more than a few steps before stepping over puddles of water, keeping weight off creaking steps or ducking under exposed wires and rusting pipes leaking congealing fluids. No better was the decrepit state of my hull embodied than the oppressive gloom of my engineering spaces where stripped-down engineers struggled to bring my ancient diesels to life. As always, my breathing came in shallow and rapid cycles as the 9-cylinder engines were laboriously coaxed to rattling life one after the other. I squirmed helplessly in the inescapable grip of my grotesque hull with the first crackling surges of my revitalised electrical grid, praying to anything that might be listening that an errant spark wouldn't ignite a fire onboard.

A thought went to the crew mopping up crude oil leaking into the hallways surrounding the fuel bunker mounted amidships. If the seas were anyway rougher than the light chop present in the harbour, the poor bastards would be soaked in the crude by the time I arrived at my destination. Feeling they deserved something for their endless task, I gathered the pathetic wisps of my mystical abilities before forming them into an admittedly pathetic pulse of encouragement. The already crippling pressure of my mental shackles threatened to cook my mind as punishment for going above my station, yet seeing the gremlins pausing to cheer and wave at my immaterial presence brought an exhausted smile to my hidden face.

If there was ever one good reason to continue on with the perpetual nigh-crippling pain of dilapidated machinery, keel-breaking freight loads, and overfilled fuel bunkers, it was seeing my crew happy.

Such was the life of a Wa.

"Lookin about to explode at the rivets there, you overgrown barge." I turned my toothed helm toward the owner of the raspy feminine voice. "Ri-884 ate half the Imp tugs, so you've got me today."

Joy entered my straining diesel heart for the first time in far too long. "Tee-Suu!"

In lieu of replying, Tsu-101 sailed around to my aft and planted her massive artificial gauntlets against the rounded dome of my lower body. Between her turbines and my thundering diesels, I began moving under something approaching my own power with a light shift to port so as to face the harbour mouth. The closest thing to a friend I possessed in my second life as a Wa contented herself with pushing my 22k ton aft into one of the shipping channels before shifting to linger at my starboard side. I didn't need the unsubtle spiritual brushes from -101 to know she was throwing my overloaded hull a concerned look or six and the trio of gouges slowly weeping black ichor across my bloated midriff.

Moving at a blistering 8 knots, she'd have plenty of time to voice her...

"One of these days, you're going to push the bitch too far," unlike her general radio transmission, this came through the walky-talky on my Captain's belt.

"Still not dead, Tee-Suu," I gently reminded the silly worrywort. "Much as East Timor enjoys playing with her freighters, she knows her chances of getting another elite Wa are absolute zero."

Wishing to be recalled as more than a bolted-on afterthought, my gun crews -the hallmark of my existence as a Wa above the rest- poured into their positions. Japanese 100mm naval rifles, Russian 3-inch HA AA, and British 2-pounder QF guns constituted the main bulk of my defensive firepower. No two emplacements and turrets possessed the exact specifications, let alone markings, a fact I suspected led on from the abject oddity of my creation. Nevertheless, the gremlins in control ran through their drills with plenty of training experience and absolutely nothing combat-related. Not for the lack of determination on the little midget's horrifically deformed faces; no, my crew were far too brave for their size.

Rather, it was simply because my getting hit by enemy fire would guarantee a short and agonising demise as my crippled hull fell apart at the seams.

Lost in my ruminations, we passed the fortress guns defending the harbour mouth with nary a prod from the immobile sentient fortifications. And while I knew the route better than the literal port I resided within, if not by choice, Tee-Suu's presence at my side kept drifting to a bare minimum. Sometimes, I wondered to myself what East Timor's domain looked like with my own eyes rather than the fish-eyed remote vision I received from my Captain. Whatever Manatuto might have once been before the Abyssal War erupted, now I sailed west along a mile of cratered and burnt-out coastline. In her morose moments, -101 described the coastline as a thin grove of blackened fingers grasping for the perpetually stormy sky, shrinking year on year as the docks expanded in fits and starts whenever East Timor received a glut of raiding supplies.

Grasped by the urge to wrap my arms around myself, I instead rocked every so slightly from port to starboard, hiding my distress through the natural movement of a fully laden freighter. Here within sight of the queen bitch's most fervently loyal subordinates, showing any further weakness than that expected of a hapless Wa was a threat I couldn't risk. For that, I had Tsu-101 to thank for having any time to myself instead of being shoved into and out of convoys the instant my cargo was offloaded.

Ah, almost forgot. "Where am I headed this time?"

The big bad Tsu choked and spent an adorable few seconds hacking and coughing to hide that she'd forgotten to tell me our destination. I couldn't see the humanoid Abyssal light cruiser fumbling, but the general impression from the lookouts and gunnery crews was one of clumsy hilarity as -101's massive gauntlets pulled her windmilling arms away from her hull.

"We're, um, well... eep!" Apparently, Tsu very nearly capsized there. "If Big Wama there can keep straight and level, Helm, then so can we! Destination, destination... Surabaya!"

With a quick refresher from the navigation charts that I very much wasn't meant to have stored under a false bottom of a foot locker, I calculated the likely course and narrowed my residual eyes. The withered sight organs barely shifted after half a decade of enforced blindness and were, somewhat darkly, likely to be consumed by my eldritch body before the decade was out.

With that cheerful thought in mind, I offered a noncommital hum. "That explains all the runs East Timor's forced me into; Java's squeezing her vassals."

Even expecting the reaction, I still turned my toothed helm toward Tsu-See when she offered a falsetto giggle in reply. Everyone in their right mind should be terrified of the Battleship Hime, like my friend was, and not only because Java was the heavyweight in the Southern East Indies. As for me? The pained furrow of my invisible brow deepened from the moderate swell impacting my stressed hull rather than the non-existent fear I felt when speaking about Java Hime. But if there was one thing -101 loathed more than discussing royalty, it was silence.

Sometimes, it was a blessing and a curse to be so nihilistic.

"You didn't hear this from me, understand?"

Intrigued, I canted my oppressive helmet. "Rumours?"

There came the distinctive squeal of occult steel rubbing together as my fleetmate and fellow cripple rubbed her fingers together. Lacking eyebrows to make the gesture, I dropped to ten knots so as to entirely turn my head toward Tsu-See without risking drifting off course.

"I've heard a few things from the vessels on long-range patrols out west," Tsu-101 admitted slowly, every word emerging like molasses. "Nothing ironclad, you get me? Ri-007 got into a fight with one of Java's bodyguards, and her crew stole a few logbooks as payment for not ripping their keel out under them."

Together, we paused for a much-needed shudder at the casual, sadistic mannerisms of the Forge-born heavy cruisers. But then, Ri-884 eating most of the tug imps let me spend this time with Tsu-See, so the heavier warship's casual brutality sometimes paid helpful dividends.

"A Kanmusu sub can't ram a torpedo up that cunt's propeller shafts soon enough," -101 grumbled before getting back on course. "-007 arrived back at port and began drinking that illicit human swill while ranting about East Timor not breaking free from Java now that they were 'running scared from shadows'."

I expended a measure of my spiritual reserves to prod my meandering friend onward. "Then what?"

"Eh?"

"What's Java running scared from, Tsu-See?"

"A Re-Hime to the north-west."

My diesels hitched in sympathetic terror with my heart as it skipped a beat upon hearing a phrase that not even the most depraved of the Abyss' servants dared conceive of. The breathlessness lasted barely a handful of seconds, and yet that was enough to leave me light-headed and blundering into, rather than around, a small wave. A stretch of hull along my port side squealed as tons of choppy sea water impacted it flat on, resulting in a handful of popped rivets ricocheting around the cargo bay on the far side. I cringed as the crunch of breaking wood rang out from a stack of salted fish, freighter instincts lambasting me until stunned disbelief ran roughshod over the Wa thoughts.

"A..."

A forked tongue brushed across bloodless lips lacking flesh as long-dormant behaviours surged to the fore before the overpowering crush of the mental cage forced them back into the depths of my broken mind.

It hurt to breathe.

"A Re-Hime? Are you sure?"

Before my friend answered, I knew that I'd need to warn the others before it was too late.

Every Wa, no matter their origin, knew that we were one of a Re's favourite snacks because we were helpless loot pinatas ripe for the harvesting. With the "regular" Re able to consume an entire small convoy in one sitting, how many of my fellow intelligent sisters would be eaten if a Re Princess felt hungry?!

Millions of tons of screaming Wa would sink to sate that impossibly voracious appetite.



This Wa ain't a normal Wa, but I'll leave it up to y'all to figure out how exactly she differs.

Plus, we need more Wa-centric stories. Might flesh out that SI idea elsewhere to really hammer in how fucked up a Wa would be.

With that said, this doesn't count toward the two guaranteed chapters. I'll reserve those for true chapters.
 
Chapter Thirteen
Many apologies about the delay, life and world of warships intruded.

The first of two chapters commissioned by Darik through my
Kofi here.

Music for the chapter is from Powerwolf (Joan of Arc)





In an officer and gentleman's service to the Crown, there were times when the lamentably necessary act of skullduggery became part and parcel of their duties. Some categorically rejected the call, insisting on standing above the grim necessity while becoming entangled in the political morass regardless. The higher one climbed the ranks, the more wide-reaching and potentially tumultuous the skullduggery became, as did the requirement for ever greater secrecy. For a relevant example, it'd be the height of poor form for a Captain in Her Majesty's service to undermine the public impression of their confidence in an ally.

Hence why Repulse's XO found himself treating with oriental smugglers in an opium den on the outskirts of Singapore -the city, not the Installation Royal- with a select few men.

The XO's decision was informed by the ramshackle construction of salvaged bricks, tin sheets, and steel, visibly marked by intense heat, as the den's rear entrance backed out onto the channel between the island and the mainland. A small jetty used for smuggling product across the water and down the coast now served as a temporary home to an unmarked motor launch guarded by two of Repulse's marines. Fortuitous in hindsight, as the Commander's "hosts" snuck regular glances at the doorway leading to the jetty as if afeared that the marines would storm in, guns blazing. Somewhat laughable, given the six armed thugs pretending to lounge on ratty sofas were armed with a hefty selection of modern firearms split between assault rifles and automatic pistols. Perchance, the threadbare rugs and cheap bead curtains separating each consumption booth were less of a grimy affection than the Commander initially assumed.

Of course, both of the marine guards, as did the XO, discreetly assumed the appearance of the men they used to be before their ship sank and took them to the bottom.

It wouldn't do to terrify the smugglers overmuch, after all, if they were to secure the oriental's underhanded services.

Just a tad.

Rolling the empty opium smoker between his fingers, the XO let slip a minuscule fragment of his other self and looked up with the dead, pupilless eyes of a fish. Set in an otherwise hawkish man's face, the lead smuggler subtly jerked and paled, the Commander pretending that the other man's hand hadn't darted to the heavy pistol at his hip. A blink later, the officer's eyes were a normal, piercing green that conveyed a weight of patriarchal disappointment, which only one such as Repulse's executive officer could portray without condescension.

"Fifty thousand pounds per man to ship them to Ceylon," unhurried, the XO tugged at the cuff of his tropical white shirt. "You want half a million sterling in the modern coinage for a simple hop to Ceylon, not even the subcontinent proper."

To the smuggler's credit, he was savvy when money was on the line.

All subtle fear melted away as the ringleader took a long pull from his opium pipe and raised his free hand with outstretched digits. "I am already cutting my margins dangerously tight for that low price, Honoured Spirit."

"One: Singapore's patrols are deep and intensive, far beyond even the old republic's judiciary and twice as ruthless in the face of illegal behaviours."

Closing his eyes for a heartbeat, the XO's mental gaze tracked a sodden presence meandering up the path from the channel bank.

"Two: You yourself admit that detection means failure and shame, enough to command a premium for discretion."

Struggling under the weight of an unseen load, the visitor escaped the cloying mud and paused to converse with the marine guards before forging ahead,

"Three... Ship Spirits patrol the Indian Ocean, and especially Malaysia's coastline. Unless your chosen men can adequately disguise their unique nature from the spirit's all-seeing senses, I must contend with my organisation being labelled Hostis humani generis for helping you."

The left side of the XO's lips minutely twitched when the presence made sure to kick the muck off their boots outside the door before loudly clearing their throat.

"Ah've got a delivery for a Mister Officer, first name Executive!"

Unfolding himself from the sofa with nary a hint of motion, the XO practically glid through the panicking orientals to open the door and favour the soaking sailor on the other side with a raised eyebrow.

"You're late, Baxter."

"Ah got entangled with some queer-lookin fish people from the far bank, Sah," was the burdened Baxter's response as he hefted the massive wooden crate in his arms. "Still got her on time, didn't ah?"

Offering a noncommital hum, Repulse's executive officer cocked an ear to the angry Mandarin shouts at his back while giving the crate a once over. Still intact despite the submersible trek and the thick pitch sealing the lid from the water looked intact to his questing gaze. Content that the valuable contents hadn't been damaged in transit, the XO silently extended his hands and accepted the several hundred kilos of crate without a sound.

"Remind me to mark you down for impudence, Midshipman," he dismissed the grinning sailor.

Mindful of the doorway's width, the hawkish officer carefully returned inside the opium den with the crate in hand and peered over the lid to find himself gazing down the shaking barrels of several firearms. With tension thick enough to blunt even Repulse's bow, the XO briefly ruminated on the best course of action before cutting straight to the point.

To the ringleader, he aimed his mild ire in lightly-accented Cantonese. "Do put those away. Experienced men such as yourselves should well know that modern weapons barely affect spirits like I."

A delightfully blatant shock rippled through the hardened thugs before they lowered their weapons at a barked command from their leader. Sloppy, the XO privately labelled the dreadful showing yet let nothing slip as he moved to drop the crate with a resounding bang. Feeling every eye in the place on him, the officer produced a short hammer and chisel from the depths of his sleeves and began breaking the pitch seal. He was nearly three-quarters of the way through the process when the ringleader started hovering over his shoulder.

"Your Cantonese is impressive for an Englishman."

Lining up the chisel, the XO swung the hammer with a curt bark of laughter. "Hard not to pick up the language when you were born here." A crack split the air and truncated any further conversation. "Perfect. Grab that other side there and lift."

With the ringleader's perturbed aid, they raised the lid and exposed the neatly packed rows of Sterling submachine guns gleaming from the packing oil they'd been stored in. Lamenting the necessity, a grimacing XO selected one firearm from among the batch and pulled it out to show the blank-faced smuggler leader.

"Sterlings, fresh from Naval Base George's armouries," he swapped back to English to throw the ruffian's mind off track. "One hundred guns per crate, with four spare magazines and a thousand rounds of ammunition included for free. Four more crates are in the channel; that's five hundred sterlings if you accept my adjusted deal in lieu of your proposed exorbitant prices."

Despite a valiant dismissive sniff and side-eye glare, the sharp-eyed oriental's hands lingered in the sticky pitch, refusing to release a substantial wealth in firearms now that he had them on hand.

"There are old weapons in design, if not manufacture," the leader slowly laid out, piece by steady piece. "If I wanted such, there are many areas on the mainland where more effective weapons can be found for free if one knows where to look." And yet, he couldn't tear his gaze from the sterling in the XO's grip. "Your kind were more than thorough when they tore Malaysia apart in search of blood to spill for their dark gods..."

"Let me be frank, as neither of us has time to burn this close to Singapore; your stocks of weapons old enough to harm the beasts that now reside upon the ruins of Malaysia's cities are inadequate."

Returning the submachine gun to the crate, Repulse's XO favoured the Communist guerilla -for that was who the man was, beyond a smuggler- with a predatory half-grin.

"I dare say we hate the Abyssals as much as yourself, if not more," the suspicious leader looked unconvinced, prompting a change of tack. "A fellow enemy of a common foe, then. Nothing more, nothing less. You get our men to Ceylon, and there'll be far more than mere sterlings in your hands come the spring."

For the first time, the oriental in command of this band of ruffians cast a distrustful glance at his fellows, all of whom, the XO suspected, knew no English to eavesdrop. Whatever thoughts were going through the guerilla's head, cold pragmatism won out against his ideological opposition to working with a British officer.

Even if that officer was a resurrected fragment of a man who'd drowned at sea over eighty years before.

"Ten men to Sri Lanka, then?"

"Sri Lanka, Ceylon, whatever you wish to call it, aye. Get them there without discovery, and you'll have your support."

With one last look at the crate of freshly manufactured sterlings, the smuggler nodded and offered a hand for Repulse's executive officer to shake once.

"A new war creates strange bedfellows, no?"

In that, the XO could wholeheartedly agree.



An aviation superdreadnought of the Royal Navy cannot be denied in war or peace.

"Repulse, my Dear, I cannot accept payment for tending to your most superficial of injuries," Singapore oh so stridently waged her verbal war with apt fervour. "I'd be remiss to demand recompense when you still have cracked spars!"

I was shaking my head with a fond smile long before the Installation Princess finished her impassioned declaration. Not, I hoped, in a manner that came across as smug; heavens forbid I become that uncouth with an old friend. In this, the constant movement of my hands in grabbing shrunk-down crated aircraft from my holds before depositing the full-size article on the pier undoubtedly helped soften the blow.

Humming a little ditty, I laid another Wyvern alongside the seventeen already resting in the midmorning sun for collection whenever Singapore rediscovered the usage of her cranes. As numbers three through sixteen had prompted no reaction, I suspected my slack-jawed ally felt somewhat overwhelmed with the bounty.

"Nonsense! If there is one thing I have an unreasonable glut of, it's aircraft and helicopters. Besides," I pointedly ignored the CAG's bitching in the back of his wardroom. "You need not retain the Wyverns for your airfield's use."

Singapore froze and cocked her head like some manner of adorable canine. "Are you implying what I think you are..."

A living typhoon of malformed Innie dockworkers boiled out of their boltholes and hidden residences to swarm over the crated strike aircraft and the logistical equipment necessary to unload and examine them. Standing amidst the boiling ink-black swarm, Singapore was an immobile statue of noble bearing and serenity as tiny bodies flowed around her low heels. A crate had been professionally opened and laid out in mere moments with a brief clamour of hammering and squeaking grunts. Once exposed, the constituent parts of a Westland Wyvern were examined with single-minded efficiency by the swarm before the roiling living wave all but absorbed the unbuilt strike craft.

"Truly a terrifying sight to behold," Captain Tennant mused from the safety of the weather bridge. "A sight that feels unnatural on such a lovely day as this."

I had eyes only for Singapore. "Be that as it may be, Captain, we can't deny that Singapore commands an industrious crew, which the men at Naval Base George would do well to imitate."

And that wasn't a lamenting of my fleet's construction personnel, either; far from it. Instead, it naturally percolated to the surface of my mind as I witnessed the throbbing and shifting blob of busy little gremlins spend several minutes covering the Wyvern. My crew naturally ceased unloading the remaining payment aircraft and hung out at the edge of the flight deck, dozens of curious sailors and airmen taking a break to watch Singapore at work. Separate from the visible was that intangible realm from when the Drums in the Deep originated, whose siren song filled my ears yet never deigned to grace my finned ears. I stared at the buried Wyvern and saw nought, for my mind was elsewhere, buoyed aloft by the symphony of Singapore's soul.

Were there a musician, living or dead, claimed to be the pinnacle of their art, I would be the first to decry them as a charlatan.

My own heart of hearts, patchwork as it was, rose alongside the shrill cry of port locomotives, reverberated to the rhythm of riveters at work and sang in chorus with the victorious rush of a ship racing down the slipway. All the industrial power of a port and shipyard condensed and filtered through the will of a single embodied woman whom I owed more than I might ever repay in a dozen lifetimes. Tugging a rag from the cavernous depths of my bosom, I dabbed freely at the salty droplets crowding in the corners of my eyes lest my view of Singapore be rendered incomprehensible. In the bespectacled avatar's soul song, I bore reverent witness to powers beyond mortal ken turned toward building, repairing and bringing new life into a world that daredn't deserve their innocent presence. An old ally turned new friend was Singapore, and I was proud to continue drying my leaking eyes until the industrious swarm of miniature gremlins receded and exposed a complete Wyvern on the damp concrete.

Around me lay a ring twenty metres across, shining cleanly in the sun from the invisible deluge I'd inadvertently caused. Flustered, I attempted curling my tail around myself in contrition, only for a frighteningly intense Singapore to appear far within my personal space. One painful sting on the nose later, I was staring down the length of my compatriot's extended trigger finger at the sharp eyes behind it.

"What do you call this?" The manicured digit swung around with an echo of a dock crane to land on the Wyvern.

My ears twitched and flushed a deep indigo. "A Westland Wyvern?"

"No!...Well, yes, but no!"

Sharing a mental shrug with Captain Tennant, I watched Singapore furiously stomp over to the big-boned strike fighter with no clear idea of her intent, only that the soul song was never far from my ears. She prowled around the aircraft in what might have been intense silence if not for the outright grumbling pouring from the Installation's pursed lips every time she paused to examine a specific part. I wisely kept my trap shut in the vain hope that the fey mood that'd overtaken my companion was a short-lived beast, yet it was not to be so.

Out of the blue, Singapore leaned across the left wing to glare at me. "Where's the Abyssal essence, Repulse? My workers reviewed every nut, bolt and link on this, and I thought the crews were insane when they proved unable to spiritually compress the craft."

'Spiritually compress'...?

"But no, you really did leave seven thousand pounds of supernaturally inert aircraft on my pier, as if I hadn't seen your crew unload it from your rigging in front of my eyes!" I cringed as phantom cutting torches hissed beside my head. "Do you know what you've done... No, of course, you don't; why would you? I'd be better off pretending this hasn't broken every conceivable law of the Deep Magicks."

Somewhat shyly, I raised a hand. "Pardon me, Singapore,"

Much like a punctured tyre, the Harbour Princess' unnatural fervour vanished into the muggy heat of a Malaysian sunny day without a sea breeze. Left behind was an altogether lesser woman in stature and soul, at least until the industrial symphony swelled and colour returned to Singapore's cheeks. Caught in profile by an errant sunbeam, I marvelled at the noble beauty's unbowed, straight and perfect posture despite her invisible ailment.

"Repulse," a flicked hand brought a crane boom swinging to hover over the crated aircraft. "Once again, you've managed to take an ironclad rule of my existence- that being Kanmusu and Abyssal aircraft are inherently magical entities- and produced an aircraft indistinguishable from a Human-made craft."

Having retreated to the privacy of my battle bridge, Captain Tennant tugged at a non-existent beard with his clawed gauntlets. While the resulting screeching of metal on metal had several of the bridge crew covering their ears, none dared interrupt their CO's contemplative moment.

And nor did I, for I was if nothing devoted to my Captain.

Eventually, my Captain's bloodshot eyes turned skyward. "Truth be told, My Dear, I've been remiss in exploring the more profound ramifications of our collective existence. With that admitted, I dare say Singapore will be far less hesitant in accepting your wonderful gift."

I'll admit, I very nearly swooned in response.

Thankfully, Singapore had completely missed our little internal conversation; the Installation Princess conducting her crane to load the untouched Wyverns onto a waiting steam locomotive. Desperate to appear the attentive and interested friend I wished to be for Singapore, I consulted my crew for a record of what the Princess said while I was distracted.

"...not even getting into the likelihood of replicating the Wyverns and Sea Furies across the Royal Navy's carriers. Illustrious will be ecstatic, I'm sure... We'll need to obscure the origins of the aircraft, obviously." Singapore's eyes were alight with delight as she looked up at me. "Isn't that right, Repulse?"

Checking my impulsive retort at the gate before it left my mouth, I bit my tongue for a moment and instead stretched out my coiled tail until I was near level with my old friend. My cyan-skinned hand touched the Installation's cheek to a quiet gasp from the bespectacled lady and a cheeky wink from myself.

"Before you expose the Wyvern's virtues to the world, I'd much prefer if the Houses Westland and Hawker defended your castle's walls from innie interlopers." Firmly, I squeezed Singapore's cheek and laid a feather-light kiss on her forehead. "A fair lady such as yourself needs more than little old me to defend her honour..."

Singapore recoiled with a scandalised hiss just a tad too slowly to be truly enraged. Her face flushed such a ruddy crimson that I half afeared she'd burst a blood vessel. Summoning a fan from her storage, I pulled back while the blushing Harbour Princess futilely tried cooling her burning cheeks.

Just as the legends foretold, there was nought more delightful a view in all the realm than that of a blushing maiden.

And as Singapore's self-appointed gallant knight, I swore to ride forth to defend her from the foul and be-tentacled denizens of Innsmouth and the Abyss.

So swears Repulse!



Now, I'm off to write more For The Master of Mankind on QQ.

The next chapter will be in a week.

Chiao!
 
Chapter Fourteen
I want to say that this chapter fought me, but it was super easy once I sat down and found the correct music.
This is the last of Darik's commissioned chapters, so updates won't be guaranteed at any swiftness from now on. If you want to see more,
I'm over here at Kofi.
Music for the chapter is from Bridge Over The River Kwai (Bridge Over The River Kwai)



If pressed, Toby hadn't the faintest clue as to why he'd clambered up the hill behind the naval base at Bloody Fuck Early O'Clock.

Looking somewhat ratty in his repeatedly washed -and somewhat threadbare at this junction- uniform, the young Lieutenant Commander picked his way past the marines on guard with nary a double take. Sure, the pair were giant fuckoff crabs wielding EM-2 rifles, but they at least made an effort to revert to a pair of regular human soldiers when they spotted Toby coming down the sliproad. Gutwrenching fears of Abyssal infiltration aside, he had long since gotten used to that peculiarity among Repulse's crew...

Or Naval Base George's now, the officer supposed, given Repulse was four hundred kilometres away in Singapore at the moment.

Still, he waved down the marine's cheery salutes and set his eyes on the burgeoning fortification works ongoing above the treeline. The air flowing into his lungs was pleasingly chill, with the sun's radiant beams just beginning to crawl across the eastern horizon, something Toby intended to put to good use. He put the cool air to good use, hiking the short, winding switchback road up the hill without breaking a sweat or pausing for breath. That said, the young Australian naval officer stopped occasionally to gaze out over the industrial beehive of Naval Base George. On the landward side of the bay, amidst the burnt-out shells of homes, the sun's light caught a plume of dark smoke from a squat brick building. Taller than anything else in sight, thanks to the belching smoke stack, Toby watched the tiny figures of workers begin rolling steel harvested from sunken Abyssals by the cartload into the waiting forgeworks.

He wasn't entirely sure as to how Lily kept dragging entire warship shipwrecks from the shallow waters of the harbour when the wrecked vessels were near-human-sized at the time of their sinking, yet salvaged whole they were.

The curious implications stuck with Toby as the tarmacked road transformed into the gravel-coated site of ongoing construction near the hill's summit. Glad for the solid boots provided by the commissary nearest his office space, strange as having an office on an Abyssal naval base was, the jovial officer stomped his way across the uneven ground without fearing a bad fall and began whistling in good cheer. Half an hour after setting out, Toby's whimsical trek brought him into view of a curiously empty construction site provided with a glut of antique machines and not a soul in sight. Cranes, tractors and even a functional example of a rusted-to-hell steam traction engine he'd once seen back home occupied the enormous concrete shell of a gun battery. Figuring there was no harm in having a poke around, the naval officer ducked under the barrier that sealed the entrance and meandered through the antiques with the distinctive aroma of freshly poured concrete filling his nose.

Toby paused at the battery's immense threshold, shielded his eyes, and peered into the surprisingly deep pit. "Huh."

"God willing, we'll have Pooh ready for firing tests come Friday fortnight."

"Agh!"

Leaping in shock as someone spoke beside his ear, Toby's windmilling body precariously tipped towards the yawning pit and his inevitable demise before a pair of furry arms wrapped themselves around his torso.

"Steady on there, old bean!"

Removed from the sheer drop with celerity by his unknown saviour, the panicking sailor was too stunned by the near-death experience to protest as he was led over to a stack of reinforced doors awaiting installation. Belatedly muttering his thanks as he was sat down, Toby blankly stared at his trembling hands before shoving them between his closed legs and waiting out the adrenaline surge. To think that he'd have fallen into the battery's pit and died, all because some asshole had spooked him from out of...

Toby's stiff jaw worked away as he saw industrial equipment to his right; momentarily, he felt relief, then glanced left and met the beady eyes of an Abyssal badger. For what else could make humanoid animals on this cursed island? The Abyssal wore a WW2-style khaki uniform adorned with an unfamiliar regimental badge on their cap and collar with a holstered revolver on their left hip.

"Morning," he reflexively offered.

"Pleasure to meet you, Commander," the badger offered a paw to shake, which Toby did out of perplexed politeness. "I noticed you admiring Pooh's future battery site and figured it'd be awfully discourteous of me to not pop in and have a wibble."

"Pooh?"

"A little nickname the lads came up with for the 14" naval rifle they're mounting up here," a furry arm gestured to the cerulean waters of the harbour. "Pooh covers the harbour, and Winnie's covering the north..."

At this point, the sailor's heart had ceased trying to shatter his breastbone with its thundering clamour. Calm as he was going to be given the circumstances, Toby dared to raise a hand and interrupt the rambling badger with the stereotypical RP accent.

"Sorry, but who are you?"

Was it prideful anger at being interrupted that met the question? Was it a lashing strike from the blunt claws ending the striped mammalian's hand paws?

Given what occurred next, Toby half-wished it'd been one of the former.

Blinking owlishly, he wasn't expecting the badger to summon a dapper cane from thin air and jump to their feet. Smoothly tucking the badger-headed rod of rich wood under their arm, the strange creature doffed their cap with a shallow bow.

"Profuse apologies, Commander Williamson! Woe is me for forgetting the gentleman's creed in my fervour to make your acquaintance." The badger returned the cap atop their head with a melancholy shake of their muzzle. "Where are my manners? Major Rupert Pennyworth-Farthington III, Royal Artillery, at your service. Presently on detached service to the Navy to train these ruffians in sterling landbound gunnery work."

Pressured to stand, Toby found his feet and grinned despite his earlier scare. "You're quite the eccentric officer, Major..."

"Rupert, please. I shant begrudge you the use of my personal name when we both serve the Lady Admiral to the best of our ability!"

"Rupert then," Toby corrected before the badger's words registered. "Lady Admiral?"

Honestly, it felt like he was repeating everything being said more than was helpful at this point. Nonetheless, it got the stripy mammal to perk up and beckon Toby to follow them to the westward edge of the construction site.

"Over there in the blue yonder," towards the distant horizon of the perfect, unblemished sea. "The Lady Admiral proves her worth in diplomacy ten-fold. Why, I can't imagine it's much easier than when I had the misfortune of meeting the Shah of Baghdad in unfortunate circumstances. I'd purchased the services of a a young lad from one of the Shah's men, you see, with three pounds of good British butter and a hundredweight of corned beef. Muhammad, that was the boy's name, was awfully glad to be away from that rogue's household when we were arrested for providing counterfeit goods!" Major Rupert scoffed. "Politics, you know how it is with the Persians. So there we were..."

Toby's stomach fortuitously rumbled, saving him from a long-winded tale at the top of a bloody hill in the tropics. Alas, the furry artillery officer couldn't have just cut his story off and returned to where he'd popped out from. No, that'd be too easy. Before Toby had a chance to flee, Rupert fuzzed, becoming briefly out of phase with the rest of reality before emerging as a blond-haired man with handsome, rugged features and the kind of immense walrus moustache that tropes of Victorian gentlemen were made of.

"Now, then," a human arm was thrown around Toby's shoulders. "Where can an officer and a gentleman break his fast in these parts?"

LINE BREAK

"... you might ask, was I able to stare down the barrel of a hundred rifles and tell the tale?

Rupert paused to take a long draught from his tea and create a sandwich of eggs and buttered toast. On the other side of the table, Toby was attempting to catch the waiter's lidless eye. The upright fish ignored the human's increasingly desperate attempts to escape his companion's furry clutches to serve port to a group of jellyfish-ferret hybrids in RAF uniforms. A snippet of the five-man unit's conversation drifted across Rupert's waffling, conducted not in English but in an unfamiliar European language Toby had no familiarity with. Cursing his luck, the Australian officer regretted not discovering the existence of the officer's mess beforehand to have gotten the staff's favour in getting away from this hell. With escape out of reach, he returned to his breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs, provided at no cost at his companion's insistence.

Where the hell did they find the eggs and flour to make this?

"Wouldn't you know, Cousin Eustace was leading our supposed foes!"

Ignorant of Toby's desperate attempts to summon aid, Rupert's moustache was home to enough crumbs to feed a small company while he continued regaling his tale of daring do.

"Cousin Eustace?" Toby regrettably echoed.

"Earnest Eustace, we used to call him!" The jovial blond-haired giant threw his head back for a belly laugh. "Eustace was the third cousin on his mother's side to the Earl of Sandwich, you know? Good chap in a pickle, if somewhat, how do you say it?" Rupert waved his fork in the air for emphasis. "'Gone native', as the broadsheets would have you call it. Cousin Eustace, now, he was as shocked to see I as we were him, what with his having vanished into the Malayan jungles on an expedition a decade past."

Despite his best efforts, Toby's curiosity at the tale made him push his breakfast aside and wet his dry lips with a mouthful of decent tea. Not the best, but given he wasn't aware of any sources for the stuff on the island, he figured it was best if he didn't delve too deeply.

"When did you say this happened?"

"Oh, late '42, I'd say. I reckon myself a deft hand with expeditions," Rupert gave an exaggerated wink that suited the gregarious artillery officer perfectly. "But the Japs had confiscated my instruments, and Eustace's mob lived so deep in the jungle they hadn't a single calendar between them. Too damp, you see. Paper, clothes, and even the leather of our boots fell apart in that God-awful sweltering heat! But by Jove, I was in a right proper state by the time we met the locals and would have settled for a few rags around my feet if it saved me from trench foot."

"Uhuh."

"Wonderful chaps, the Malay partisans. Solid, dependable, and a wicked sense of humour when they brought you in as one of their own." Unusually, a faint blush coloured the disguised Abyssal's cheeks as he looked at his near-finished meal. "Were I given the chance to visit the area, I'd like the opportunity to visit my grave. The Malays... It seems they've taken to praying to me and the others resting there these past few years."

The hairs on the back of Toby's neck rose nigh-imperceptibly as the man across from his fuzzed and once again resembled nothing more than an absolute unit of a striped badger in service khakis. Rupert blinked owlishly at the cutlery in his paws, held without issue by far larger digits, before carefully placing them on his empty side plate.

"If you'll pardon me, Lieutenant Commander, I fear I shall have to cut our breakfast short," donning his cap with the faintest waver in his voice, Rupert retrieved his dapper cane. "A spot of fresh air will do my melancholic heart a good turn, I think." He nodded at his dining companion. "Should you wish to meet for luncheon another time, the battery telephone will be wired up by tonight. Good day, Sir."

Toby hid his reflexive apology with a mouthful of tea out of politeness's sake and let the larger-than-life artillery Major leave the officer's mess at his own pace. The longer he remained on this strange, strange island, the less of his Abyssal knowledge stayed relevant or even trustworthy. Were it confined to Repulse, the young Australian sailor could chalk it down to the mutant Re-class' general aura of weirdness and rule-bending. But he'd spent most of the morning with Rupert, and the gregarious badger had seemingly popped out of thin air along with a 14" battery construction site while Repulse was away in Singapore.

"And they told me that the shipgirl service would be mainly paperwork," the officer muttered before eyeing his remaining eggs and toast. "Seriously, where did they get the ingredients?"

Did Toby want to know?

After breakfast, he decided. Best to enjoy his appetite while it lasted or before Boa and Python's latest contraption shot down half of the base's air compliment.

Repulse couldn't return quickly enough.

LINE BREAK

"Renown!"

Before Renown had an opportunity to speak, a scantily clad USN carrier had proceeded to latch onto her forcefully enough that the battlecruiser rocked back on her heels. A quick shift to quarter-speed and back again nullified the backward cant, allowing Wasp to bounce off without harm and grin up at the taller capital ship. The carrier's gaggle of Four-Stackers, Wickes herself included, zoomed around in an excitable spiral of youthful exuberance.

A significant part of that was from the presence of Kronprinz Wilhelm, who greeted each destroyer girl in a timely, friendly manner and a bar of chocolate.

"It your job to shepherd the steel lump over to home for a rebuild?"

Renown turned to a grinning Wasp with a furrowed brow. "Beg pardon?"

Her strawberry-blonde friend inclined her head towards the short German dreadnought, emerald eyes returning to Renown for a wink and a nudge. Standing as both were atop unseasonably calm waves in the middle of the Atlantic, the gesture did little to unbalance either shipgirl.

"Don't give me that look! I get that the brass wants it kept under wraps for 'security reasons'" Here, Wasp rolled her eyes and made air quotes. "But you can't tell me that the first of the Scapa Flow wrecks to return leaving port heading west is anything but a poorly disguised trip for some badly needed improvements." The buxom carrier nudged her companion again. "C'mon, spill the beans on how long you'll be in my neck of the woods."

Alarm bells started ringing in Renown's bridge, and only that the effect was undoubtedly mental prevented her from calling General Quarters and going to battle stations there and then. Still, she laid a hand over her racing heart while her Captain and XO poured over patrol charts in case the battlecruiser and her dreadnought friend had accidentally stumbled across a USN patrol.

Nothing, and certainly not a grinning Wasp whose omnipresent cheer gained a downward curve at the edges.

"Renown?"

Shaking her head, Renown put on a brave face. "My orders are to proceed to Halifax... Indefinitely." She was proud that her voice never wavered as Wasp's grin died. "Kronprinz wasn't part of that deployment order; I would hazard a guess that the Commodore is quite put out about her absence right about now."

Feeling someone grip her limp right hand, Renown glanced appreciatively at the vertically challenged dreadnought in question. Said appreciation transformed into concern when Kronprinz stared intently at Wasp until the carrier looked away and started fiddling with the zipper of her open hoodie.

Kronprinz gave a nod. "Were Commodore Bigglesworth a more honourable officer, he would not have cast my Renown aside like so much flotsam."

Scandalised, Renown gasped. "Kronprinz, you cannot say such things about the Commodore!"

"I just did," was the dreadnought's plain response. "You have served ably and loyally these past five years; any officer who refuses to reward such leal service is not fit to command you. Besides," a sly little smile briefly landed on the German warship's cute features. "I can not say I ever liked Bigglesworth's company; to him, I was a, how do you put it, a piece of the Flow's furniture."

"That's..."

Guilt and some measure of shame killed the defence before it gained true life beyond Renown's lips, her expression falling as she mouthed words her heart nor mind agreed on enough to voice. Blunt as her best friend's words were, Kronprinz had the right of it in her own particularly bellicose manner. Touched to the very heart by the loyal concern for her honour, the Royal Navy battlecruiser squeezed the dreadnought's hand in as close to a thanks as her shaky decorum could achieve.

"If you're not coming over to refit stumpy here," Wasp began, oblivious to Kronprinz's gimlet eye at the nickname. "And the Admiralty kicked you out of your home port without even a going-away party, then why... Oh."

Poor Wasp found herself targeted by interested gazes backed up by the full force of coincidence and parallax rangefinders at lethally close range. Faced with thrice her tonnage in curious ships of the line, any reluctance to speak on the USN carrier's part swiftly collapsed with a nervous rubbing of the back of her neck. Perhaps understanding that her silence couldn't last forever, Wasp stuck two fingers in her mouth and unleashed a piercing summoning call.

"Hey, Wickes!"

The lead ship of the Wickes-class destroyers rocketed away from her younger siblings, appearing as a young girl of perhaps ten years of age dressed in an adorably oversized navy greatcoat, sailor uniform, stockings and skirt. Wickes was inside the capital ship's immediate vicinity within ten seconds of the whistle, one hand still involved in wiping away a chocolate stain from the corner of her mouth.

"Ahoy, Cap. Whatcha need?"

Wasp fingered the string of her compound bow. "Mind telling Renown and Kronprinz here what you saw on Twitch the other day."

Immediately, the tiny slip of a Four Stacker went wide-eyed, whirling on a thrashing sea to gape up at the concerned-looking British battlecruiser. Like seeing Renown for the first time, the blonde escort ship abruptly beamed, exposing a mouth missing half a dozen teeth.

"Repulse's back!"

...

"WICKES, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Wasp's outraged scream washed over the destroyer like water off her coat's oiled surface. "YOU'RE MEANT TO LEAD UP TO THAT, NOT START WITH IT!"

"Ooooohhhhh."

What might be called shame if you were half blind and viewing it from the moon flashed across Wicke's face nearly too swiftly to catch. Indeed, the precocious girl was far more involved in bouncing up and down in excitement, thus setting off a wave of copycat behaviour from her watching sisters.

"So, yeah, like, Repulse is back and super-duper extra-double stacked!" Wickes seemed not to notice Renown's abject embarrassed flush in her need to babble. "There I was with Clem, building some horrific abominations in UAD when our Chat started going wild about a snake lady with boobs way bigger than her head. Like..."

Neither possessing the figure nor height to pull her impression off, the destroyer summoned two depth charges and held them in front of her like some bizarre parody.

"This big." Wickes lobbed the explosive barrels over her shoulder in lieu of storing them away, earning another howl from a mortified Wasp. "Anyways, Clem figured we could do a reaction stream, so we popped over to Singapore's channel, and wouldn't ya know, the snek with the massive fuel bunkers called herself Repulse! Huge-aft, funky-looking Re-class, too!"

Imaginary ocean water flooded Renown's boilers as the fateful word was uttered again. "Re... Repulse?"

Kronprinz held up a hand. "Did you happen to joke about the humorous pun to be had with Repulse being a Re-class?"

Now it was Renown's turn to join Wasp in making scandalised noises as Wickes cheered and fist-bumped the German dreadnought.

"That's what I said! You should have seen Singapore's face when Repulse slithered up to her, all super-British-like." Trailing off, the destroyer squinted at the squat capital ship. "You don't seem too shocked, Jerry."

"My sisters wished to pass on congratulations to Renown on her twin sister's return in such impressive form."

"Ain't your sister-ships lying at the bottom of Scapa Flow?"

"Indeed." Kronprinz's laze-faire shrug drew horrified looks from Renown and Wasp. "They speak to me in my dreams."

"Huh, the more ya know."

Apparently unaffected by the potentially ground-shattering news, Wickes held out a hand and received another chocolate bar for her troubles. Unwrapping the treat, she turned her back on Kronprinz being mobbed by voracious destroyers and ate half the bar in one bite.

"So, like, Repulse is back as a fat-aft Re-class and way too British to be a real Abyssal." Wickes eyed the red-faced Wasp and pale-faced Renown with a certain impish gleam in her brown eyes. "If ya don't believe me, just ask Haida when you get to Maple Syrup Land; she's been sitting on her aft watching Singapore's streams, the lazy tub."

Understandably, Renown sniffed, ordered her Captain to assume his duties and fell unconscious standing up.



Wickes is a little shit, news at ten. ;)
 
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