Sakura
I nod.
Yeah, okay. Makes total sense...
...I can hear someone?
I begin looking around in a panic, trying to find the source of the voice. Without realizing it, I mutter...
"...Who just talked...?"
Is there someone else in this room that I haven't noticed yet? Have any of the others I have seen just not talked until now?
...What's going on?
Akizuki's incessant giggles seem to grow louder after she stopped to stare at Sakura for a moment, a large bright smile on the destroyer's face.
Galveston meanwhile takes the time to pick up Sakura again holding her close as she hums along with the song.
Rei "Shinano"
"I… I don't know, I don't remember…" I can't help but scratch my head in distress at not knowing my roots. Why is it coming up blank?
"What would be our contribution to that plan?" I inquire further.
"With the sudden appearance of the Captain…? Probably nothing. The fuel consumption that would entail…" Akizuki shivers. "Then again there's probably an oiler around here
somewhere if we have a combat force this far out…"
Not a song I recognize, no, but from the sounds of things, reinforcements are here, and that's nice. The two different accents have me guessing that they're from two different places, wherever they are. "Oh, good, allies… I hope," I comment.
"Allies indeed, I recognize the first voice on the line, she's a bit excitable, very fun though" Galveston said mid-hum.
Akizuki's giggles resume. "Captain Florida is very…eccentric, yes."
Bluebell's eyes widen with realization as she straightens her cap. "Hey, Yankee?" She asks, staring at Akizuki.
Akizuki stares back for a second, before smiling. "Yes, Bell?"
"Corvette
Bluebell requesting leave to go sub hunting, Lieutenant
." She says, a grin growing on her face.
"Destroyer
Akizuki inquires why?"
"Lieutenant Haida left with two Battleships and a carrier with a single destroyer in escort, being the Lieutenant herself, ma'am." Bluebell replies.
"You're offering to support Haida?"
"Yes ma'am."
Akizuki sighs. "Very well, keep yourselves safe." She says, gaining a nod as the Scottish corvette dashes after Haida's group.
USS Hammann POV.
"Aircraft contact! Bearing 040, Angel 16!" called out Laffey. "Negative response from IFF."
"Division, stand by for air action forward." replied Hamman. "Shigure, what's the word on the comms?"
"I haven't been able to raise Sims-chan or the others on the wireless, but I just picked up messages that at least sound like they're from friendly units. One has an American accent, but the other one I can't place."
"Status change on the contact!" said Laffey. "Contact has now changed heading, and is now moving towards Sims and the rest of the picket. Also, I got a brief visual on it. I'm not quite sure what it is, but it doesn't look like any known enemy plane."
"Very well." said Hamman after a moment's thought. "Secure from air action stations until further notice. What's our ETA to the picket?"
"At present course and speed, we will reach them in twenty minutes." said Shigure. "We'll be in effective firing range of the closer enemy contact in fifteen, and in range of the second five minutes after that."
"Alright then. Discontinue firing star shells. Sims must have seen them by now and knows we're coming."
"Roger."
Hang on sis, thought Hammann. Just hold on a little longer.
Pirun POV
-----------------------------------------
She only spared a glance or two at the new contacts as she kept up the fire.
And as the voice came over the radio all she did was raise one arm in support
"For Fffffrrrrrreeeeeeeeedddddddddddooooooooooommmmmmmmmm!"
Milwaukee's guns swing in the direction of the other cruiser, gunners quickly calculating the firing solutions for the larger shark, before the sight of the enemy being routed by the guns of new ships coming into the Sound.
Turning her attention to the light groaning coming from the abomination, Milwaukee looks it over with a surprised look. The poor girl had been filled with holes from shells and torpedoes. She could see the weird crew of the shark abandoning the cruiser to it's fate when Milwaukee was struck with an idea.
Grabbing a steel cable and tying it to the shark's anchors securing the cruiser to her after-turret, Milwaukee then grabs the wheezing Sims, some instinct informs her how to dismiss the destroyers rigging as she hefts the destroyer up out of the water.
A hacking cough rips its way out of Centurion, blood splattering onto the water. She can feel the damage, can see the loss of sensation from her damaged radar, the wheeze in her lungs that seems to be the analogue to her boiler damage in this strange new body. And yet, her guns can still fire, her fire control crew is untouched, and her top speed is merely reduced.
Right. Tactical situation. Good news: she's still in fighting trim, one enemy is dead, and she and the small flotilla she jumped in to save have some reinforcements arriving. Looks like a heavy cruiser and a carrier. Cons: said reinforcements are a bloody American and worse, a Frog. Also, she still has no idea of the broader tactical picture beyond their little mini-engagement. Well, that's fixable, at least.
First things first, Centurion changes course to close in with the surviving shark-thing dueling the girl she'd come to bail out. Despite her fuzzy radar returns the range is short enough that, with her fire control computer intact, visual rangefinding works just fine, if a tad slower. In no time at all her 6" guns fire a full salvo, Centurion holding off on rapid fire for now until she can be certain she has the range.
Centurion's salvo rattles off, shells screaming their way to punish the enemy cruiser with righteous abandon. The Abomination jerks and weaves as one shell goes far over its head, a low, guttural and metallic laugh emanating from its throat.
This is repeated 6 more times before a pained moan escapes its maw as several shells deliver a hard punch back to its side, and a pair slam into its superstructure and bridge.
The thunderclaps sound again as the song ends, and within seconds seven shell splashes fall around the enemy cruiser, in somewhat closed fashion, and a pair of shells slam into the shark, a fire starting on the stern.
A salvo goes out from the shark, two shells hit Centurion amidships, wrecking several of her anti-aircraft mounts and one of her 4.5" turrets.
Second, she tunes her own radio (right, she had one of those) to the frequencies the help had broadcast on.
["Love the song, ladies!"] she announces over the radio. ["Appreciate the help, too! I have about a billion questions, but they can wait until we finish cleaning up whatever these things are!"]
[
"Agreed, another salvo incoming!"]
Suddenly, a thought occurs to Centurion: where'd the Kraken she'd rode in on go?
["By the way, has anyone seen a giant squid around here? Just randomly strewn about? About the size of an LSM, I believe."]
[
"Negative. Battleship Florida
pressing forwards!"]
The excited voice announces over the radio, another nine shells roaring into the sea around the enemy cruiser, yet another pair of shells piercing its thin skin.
Even as the now-named Florida announces her intentions, the Kraken, who Centurion had awoken atop of, suddenly begins resurfacing in a tangle of tentacles, locked in a battle for dominance with another of its species.
Centurion spots rising smoke on the Horizon as a Seaplane Circles overhead.
Akizuki freezes, before groaning. "Fucking Battleships! Now we
definitely need more fish!" She facepalms, grabbing Deutschland and
Shioni by the collar and dragging them out. "Wyatt, watch the rest of the fleet, I'll be back with dinner…"
"Alright, Aki. Be safe."
"I always am."
@Qihao56
Your bombers fly overhead in broken formations, racing towards shell splashes, flames and smoke raising from a pair of cruisers further out in the Sound, spotting the main masts from a pair of silhouettes of what is to be assumed is a
Battleship from the sheer size, and some form of
Carrier.
Detach a Pair of Hellcats to buzz tower and a closer look?
Quickly choosing their targets as Avengers have holes shot into their wings and fuselage as pilots watch for a target that
isn't in the middle of a gun duel and thus making more than enough issues for their runs, before catching the sight of two Mechanical Squid-Creatures with turrets and guns bristling from port holes in its mantle and tentacles. Weighing their choices, the pilots turn towards the enemy Squids.
Hellcats speed through flak fire, losing several of their numbers to Duel-Purpose shells sending up columns of icy seawater.
Breaking through the first line with a sense of shaken bravery, the Fighters begin raking the enemy with .50 caliber and 20 millimeter rounds, reducing the crewmen caught in their path to pink clouds and bodies on the deck, disabling 40 and 20 millimeter mounts.
With a renewed vigor and a new target, the Avengers begin their runs, losing two planes to damage suffered earlier, and a further two from a few AA mounts that survived.
Ash19256
Blank, it's all blank. Not a memory to be found in the vast depths of your mind.
Your eyes open to find a
steel wall next to you with a similar spiritual feel to you, yet not at the same time, as it seems almost...weaker, than yourself. Younger.
"Who the hell are you?" An accented voice asks from above, revealing a woman with hair white as snow, and a bottle of some clear liquid in her hands. "Ah, Tovarisch." She mutters, taking a long sip from her bottle, before stuffing it into her jacket and shoving herself over the side.
Landing on the water, her form becomes intertwined with her own hull,
four centerline turrets, non superimposed on a stubby hull with two masts and two funnels.
"Vodka?" She asks, producing a brand new bottle out of thin air with a flare of her hand, before placing a cigarette between her lips and lighting it.
