Vignettes From The Naval District (Kancolle)
- Location
- In the depts of despair.
Yeah, Fletchers in the last war were the memetic badasses of the Pacific, but in this war the honor goes to Fubuki, the only destroyer ever to flagship a mixed fleet when it includes capital vessels and to do it both for her own badassery and command skills.
- Location
- Singapore
I was going to lump those two sections in with the actual battle butfuckit it's good enough for an update. Besides, I'm still not mentally ready to do a major sequence like that just yet.
in any case, the remainder of DESRON 21 will probably show up in the battle, and DESRON 23 might show up later on. Also originally the scene had Inazuma being slightly traumatised by the mention of ramming, but I thought it would be too much.
Also, there was a lot of Akatsuki bullying. It was a little mean. But only a little.
in any case, the remainder of DESRON 21 will probably show up in the battle, and DESRON 23 might show up later on. Also originally the scene had Inazuma being slightly traumatised by the mention of ramming, but I thought it would be too much.
Also, there was a lot of Akatsuki bullying. It was a little mean. But only a little.
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Hee, this was fun. Class president Asashio should learn to relax a bit, but Fubuki seems to have this well in hand! The mutual fangirling and intimidation between her and Fletcher is great, and I love how O'bannon potato'd her way through the awkwardness. And Yuudachi-
Yuudachi knows about cut-ins oh my god she can see the code
Last edited:
10: Headgear for Days
- Location
- Singapore
2027, March
"...So, to sum it all up: There is an Abyssal Seaport Princess in Manila Bay who has a hundred Abyssal warships defending her, and they have enough aircraft to force our carriers to deploy nothing but fighters, otherwise we'll get bombed to the bottom of the sea for a change." Mutsu clicks off her laser pointer with a flourish and smiles kindly at the girls of her fleet. "Any questions~?"
Backlit by the light of the evening sun, most of the girls look blearily at her. Some of them even yawn. She did announce early bedtimes today, to prepare for the battle at dawn the next day. Someone does raise their hand, however. Someone who would usually never raise her hand.
"I just, like, wanna know one thing," Yuudachi says, and then she tilts her head. "Why does, like, Fletcher have cat ears?"
Immediately, everyone zeroes in on the nameship of the most numerous destroyer class in history. The girl herself gulps, her face bright red, and tries to cover up, hoping their curiosity will just disappear in time for the battle.
Unfortunately for her, Fubuki is right next to her.
"I'm curious about that, actually," she says with a finger on her chin. "Hey, Fletcher… Why do you have cat ears?"
"It's my radar…" The destroyer responds, slightly muffled by how her hands are covering her face.
"Wait, really?"
"Yeah, really!" Fletcher looks at her, and - dear god she's crying. She has tears in her eyes. Fletcher might actually cry about this. Oh god. "T-They're not cat ears! T-They're… they're my radar masts!"
Fubuki looks at her sisters for confirmation. She is met with several dozen nods and murmurs. Strong gives her a very strong thumbs up. O'Bannon does the same, but more subdued and with the grace of a ball pitcher. She looks back at Fletcher, currently quivering and trying to bury herself in her own lap. "Oh, that's what your radar looks like?"
"Yeah…"
She tilts her head. "But I have radar, and I don't have cat ears." She looks around, looking at all the destroyers around her. "And neither does Yuudachi, or Asashio, or Ushio, or Akebono, or Shirayuki, or Inazuma, or Akatsuki, or Akigumo, or--"
"It's a national thing," Fletcher explains hurriedly. "Y-You know! Like how all of you seem to be wearing japanese serafukus while we're wearing cadet uniforms!"
Fubuki scans the crowd again. Once again, all of her sisters nod. Strong gives another strong thumbs up. O'Bannon gives another strangely-graceful thumbs up. She looks again at Fletcher and tilts her head harder, like she's listing to port. "But… None of your sisters have cat ears…"
"N-Nicholas has them too! I think!"
Fubuki looks around the Fletchers. She doesn't say it, but wow Fletchers look alike. Would saying that out loud be racist? Well, she and her sisters do look similar, even across the Ayanami subclass and the Akatsuki subclass. Wait, did she just consider the Ayanamis and the Akatsukis her sisters? Are they more like cousins? What would be more accurate… D'oh, genealogy is confusing!
And she's pretty sure she's the basis of every single Destroyer that will embark on this operation. Does that make all of them her cousins? Does she have a hundred and seventy five american cousins? Or is she more like a mother? Does any of this even matter? Will any of this make even the slightest bit of sense? Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--
"Found her!"
A Fletcher wearing strawberry blonde pigtails and a pair of glasses steps out in front of the fleet, dragging along a blonde wearing an army helmet with webbing and a playing card strapped to one side. The blonde looks up and down the fleet before finding Fubuki. Their eyes lock briefly. Fubuki feels the weight of service behind them.
The girl tilts her helmet at her. "USS Nicholas. You must be Fubuki. What's this with my little sister?"
"You're my little sister!" Fletcher wails softly.
"Commissioned first," Nicholas responds with a small smile. Fletcher shakes her head and continues trying to curl into a small ball.
The destroyer with pigtails sighs beside Nicholas and puts her hands on her back. "They want to know if you have cat ears under your helmet."
"I don't. Why would I have cat ears? I have a helmet."
"I know you don't, but they want to see."
Nicholas looks at the deck below her. She crosses her arms. "I don't want to take off my helmet."
"Just for a little bit, Nicholas. We just want to be sure."
"You can't make me, Taylor. I won't."
"Why not, Nic?"
"...You'll laugh."
With a sigh, Taylor throws her arm up and knocks the helmet off of Nicholas' head before she can even react. Her hair puffs up suddenly, freed from constriction, and swells into an afro for a brief moment. And then it collapses into a chaotic mess of curls around her head, long enough to pass her knees.
"...You did it, Taylor," Nicholas says in a low voice.
"So I did, Nicholas," she responds with a smirk.
"Why."
Fubuki has to admit, that is impressive. She doesn't feel like laughing, though. That hair is actually really nice. It's so shiny, and long and silky, and it's probably smooth… Wait, what was she doing again?
"Because your hair is really nice."
"It's really annoying."
"Then cut it."
"...No."
Oh, right. Cat ears. Nicholas has long hair she keeps in check with a helmet. But no cat ears.
All eyes return to Fletcher again. She's shaking even more now.
"...Fletcher?" Fubuki asks. "Nicholas doesn't have cat ears."
Fletcher shakes her head. Fubuki puts her hand on Fletcher's head.
"Fletcher," she says, "We have some control over our appearances and equipment, right?"
Fletcher nods. She tenses, as if bracing for what's coming next.
"Fletcher," Fubuki concludes," You wanted cat ears, didn't you?"
Fletcher nods again.
"They're cute," Fubuki tells her with a smile.
"Please don't say they're cute," Fletcher meeps from inside her lap.
Fubuki looks at Fletcher's sisters. She looks at her squadron mates. She looks at Mutsu. Asking. Begging. For literally any help at all. Because the sheer weight of awkwardness could kill ten thousand men.
"...Right, you're dismissed," Mutsu says with as much flair as she can manage. "Remember, get ready by 0400! We have to get in position before dawn!"
"I'm not cute," Fletcher moans.
"You're my cute little sister," Nicholas says with a smile.
"I'm not your little sister…"
Fubuki forces a smile and nods. That settles it. She's Fletcher's caretaker.
----
That night, in the Bay of Manila, a hundred misshapen hulls twisted and shuddered. Each of them a behemoth, crawling with tendrils of rust and salt. Marked by the Abyss that claims them, driving the hunger that gnaws at them from within. The destroyers snarl with the voice of a legion, incoherent but for the hate and hunger. The cruisers howl, screaming for the deaths they seek, the hearts they wish to claim. The battleships rumble with the weight of the world, ready to flatten it all. The carriers buzz, insectoid progeny chirping within their holds, itching to be set free.
And the Princess stands above them all, the lonely queen atop her throne, and a hundred guns stand at attention for her. She feels them all, sees through them all, the dozens of shore batteries slaved to her soul, the mines that deny the sea to the traitorous. The skies are dense with her progeny, the good girls that will own the sky with their might. There is no Moon tonight, for she has eaten it with ten thousand children.
She knows they come, those wasteful hateful rambunctious breathless thoughtless aimless ingrateful undeserving… who have returned where they have not. They come to kill them.
The Bay of Manila itself thrashes, as one hundred warships bare their teeth and laugh in the face of god.
Let them. All belong to the Abyss. All will return to the Abyss.
All will be united in Agony.
And they will be Free.
----
"Mmph?"
Admiral Takamichi wakes up suddenly, still sitting in his chair, and pulls his hat off from his head. The stack of reports on his desk is still there, and still high and mighty like the lord of the land. He scoffs and resists the urge to slap it down and show it its place as he stands before the window and looks out, beyond the shores of Yokosuka.
He feels it. The time has come.
"Ooyodo, pack your bags."
His secretary, ever-dutiful, tilts her head beside him. "Sir?"
"We're moving. I have to rub something in the Minister's face."
"Shall I put the kitchen on standby, Admiral?"
"No." He thinks on it. "Yes."
"...So, to sum it all up: There is an Abyssal Seaport Princess in Manila Bay who has a hundred Abyssal warships defending her, and they have enough aircraft to force our carriers to deploy nothing but fighters, otherwise we'll get bombed to the bottom of the sea for a change." Mutsu clicks off her laser pointer with a flourish and smiles kindly at the girls of her fleet. "Any questions~?"
Backlit by the light of the evening sun, most of the girls look blearily at her. Some of them even yawn. She did announce early bedtimes today, to prepare for the battle at dawn the next day. Someone does raise their hand, however. Someone who would usually never raise her hand.
"I just, like, wanna know one thing," Yuudachi says, and then she tilts her head. "Why does, like, Fletcher have cat ears?"
Immediately, everyone zeroes in on the nameship of the most numerous destroyer class in history. The girl herself gulps, her face bright red, and tries to cover up, hoping their curiosity will just disappear in time for the battle.
Unfortunately for her, Fubuki is right next to her.
"I'm curious about that, actually," she says with a finger on her chin. "Hey, Fletcher… Why do you have cat ears?"
"It's my radar…" The destroyer responds, slightly muffled by how her hands are covering her face.
"Wait, really?"
"Yeah, really!" Fletcher looks at her, and - dear god she's crying. She has tears in her eyes. Fletcher might actually cry about this. Oh god. "T-They're not cat ears! T-They're… they're my radar masts!"
Fubuki looks at her sisters for confirmation. She is met with several dozen nods and murmurs. Strong gives her a very strong thumbs up. O'Bannon does the same, but more subdued and with the grace of a ball pitcher. She looks back at Fletcher, currently quivering and trying to bury herself in her own lap. "Oh, that's what your radar looks like?"
"Yeah…"
She tilts her head. "But I have radar, and I don't have cat ears." She looks around, looking at all the destroyers around her. "And neither does Yuudachi, or Asashio, or Ushio, or Akebono, or Shirayuki, or Inazuma, or Akatsuki, or Akigumo, or--"
"It's a national thing," Fletcher explains hurriedly. "Y-You know! Like how all of you seem to be wearing japanese serafukus while we're wearing cadet uniforms!"
Fubuki scans the crowd again. Once again, all of her sisters nod. Strong gives another strong thumbs up. O'Bannon gives another strangely-graceful thumbs up. She looks again at Fletcher and tilts her head harder, like she's listing to port. "But… None of your sisters have cat ears…"
"N-Nicholas has them too! I think!"
Fubuki looks around the Fletchers. She doesn't say it, but wow Fletchers look alike. Would saying that out loud be racist? Well, she and her sisters do look similar, even across the Ayanami subclass and the Akatsuki subclass. Wait, did she just consider the Ayanamis and the Akatsukis her sisters? Are they more like cousins? What would be more accurate… D'oh, genealogy is confusing!
And she's pretty sure she's the basis of every single Destroyer that will embark on this operation. Does that make all of them her cousins? Does she have a hundred and seventy five american cousins? Or is she more like a mother? Does any of this even matter? Will any of this make even the slightest bit of sense? Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--
"Found her!"
A Fletcher wearing strawberry blonde pigtails and a pair of glasses steps out in front of the fleet, dragging along a blonde wearing an army helmet with webbing and a playing card strapped to one side. The blonde looks up and down the fleet before finding Fubuki. Their eyes lock briefly. Fubuki feels the weight of service behind them.
The girl tilts her helmet at her. "USS Nicholas. You must be Fubuki. What's this with my little sister?"
"You're my little sister!" Fletcher wails softly.
"Commissioned first," Nicholas responds with a small smile. Fletcher shakes her head and continues trying to curl into a small ball.
The destroyer with pigtails sighs beside Nicholas and puts her hands on her back. "They want to know if you have cat ears under your helmet."
"I don't. Why would I have cat ears? I have a helmet."
"I know you don't, but they want to see."
Nicholas looks at the deck below her. She crosses her arms. "I don't want to take off my helmet."
"Just for a little bit, Nicholas. We just want to be sure."
"You can't make me, Taylor. I won't."
"Why not, Nic?"
"...You'll laugh."
With a sigh, Taylor throws her arm up and knocks the helmet off of Nicholas' head before she can even react. Her hair puffs up suddenly, freed from constriction, and swells into an afro for a brief moment. And then it collapses into a chaotic mess of curls around her head, long enough to pass her knees.
"...You did it, Taylor," Nicholas says in a low voice.
"So I did, Nicholas," she responds with a smirk.
"Why."
Fubuki has to admit, that is impressive. She doesn't feel like laughing, though. That hair is actually really nice. It's so shiny, and long and silky, and it's probably smooth… Wait, what was she doing again?
"Because your hair is really nice."
"It's really annoying."
"Then cut it."
"...No."
Oh, right. Cat ears. Nicholas has long hair she keeps in check with a helmet. But no cat ears.
All eyes return to Fletcher again. She's shaking even more now.
"...Fletcher?" Fubuki asks. "Nicholas doesn't have cat ears."
Fletcher shakes her head. Fubuki puts her hand on Fletcher's head.
"Fletcher," she says, "We have some control over our appearances and equipment, right?"
Fletcher nods. She tenses, as if bracing for what's coming next.
"Fletcher," Fubuki concludes," You wanted cat ears, didn't you?"
Fletcher nods again.
"They're cute," Fubuki tells her with a smile.
"Please don't say they're cute," Fletcher meeps from inside her lap.
Fubuki looks at Fletcher's sisters. She looks at her squadron mates. She looks at Mutsu. Asking. Begging. For literally any help at all. Because the sheer weight of awkwardness could kill ten thousand men.
"...Right, you're dismissed," Mutsu says with as much flair as she can manage. "Remember, get ready by 0400! We have to get in position before dawn!"
"I'm not cute," Fletcher moans.
"You're my cute little sister," Nicholas says with a smile.
"I'm not your little sister…"
Fubuki forces a smile and nods. That settles it. She's Fletcher's caretaker.
----
That night, in the Bay of Manila, a hundred misshapen hulls twisted and shuddered. Each of them a behemoth, crawling with tendrils of rust and salt. Marked by the Abyss that claims them, driving the hunger that gnaws at them from within. The destroyers snarl with the voice of a legion, incoherent but for the hate and hunger. The cruisers howl, screaming for the deaths they seek, the hearts they wish to claim. The battleships rumble with the weight of the world, ready to flatten it all. The carriers buzz, insectoid progeny chirping within their holds, itching to be set free.
And the Princess stands above them all, the lonely queen atop her throne, and a hundred guns stand at attention for her. She feels them all, sees through them all, the dozens of shore batteries slaved to her soul, the mines that deny the sea to the traitorous. The skies are dense with her progeny, the good girls that will own the sky with their might. There is no Moon tonight, for she has eaten it with ten thousand children.
She knows they come, those wasteful hateful rambunctious breathless thoughtless aimless ingrateful undeserving… who have returned where they have not. They come to kill them.
The Bay of Manila itself thrashes, as one hundred warships bare their teeth and laugh in the face of god.
Let them. All belong to the Abyss. All will return to the Abyss.
All will be united in Agony.
And they will be Free.
----
"Mmph?"
Admiral Takamichi wakes up suddenly, still sitting in his chair, and pulls his hat off from his head. The stack of reports on his desk is still there, and still high and mighty like the lord of the land. He scoffs and resists the urge to slap it down and show it its place as he stands before the window and looks out, beyond the shores of Yokosuka.
He feels it. The time has come.
"Ooyodo, pack your bags."
His secretary, ever-dutiful, tilts her head beside him. "Sir?"
"We're moving. I have to rub something in the Minister's face."
"Shall I put the kitchen on standby, Admiral?"
"No." He thinks on it. "Yes."
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
Victory party?
(Oh god victory party for 4 of the 7 bigu seben members. and Cardiv 1. and all those Fletchers. Oyodopanic.jpg)
Last edited:
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
You're just a ball of sunshine, Mutsu...
....That's your question? What the poi?
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
It's a legit question. Poi, Shigu and Kawakaze all have hair tufts that look like aminal ears. To a lesser extent, Hatsuzuki does too.
Fletcher has legit cat ears.
Embrace your role as Destroyer Onee-san, Bucky.
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Ominous. The fighting will be fierce and bloody.
Can't wait to see!
Not really digging using WSG designs in a KanColle fic, but oh well. It's still endearing to see Fubuki decide she'll Big Sister the lot. Do your best 'Buki!
- Location
- Singapore
I actually decided on cat ears Fletcher before I remembered Fletcher's WSG design.
If it helps Fletcher here has brown hair and a properly buttoned shirt.Every Fletcher, as they show up, will have some sort of headgear. Because there are so goddamn many of them I am literally giving each of them a hat.
- Location
- Quezon City, Philippines
Every Fletcher, as they show up, will have some sort of headgear. Because there are so goddamn many of them I am literally giving each of them a hat.
...
Are we going to be able to count the Fletchers without a hat? And will it be less than the number of fingers in one hand?
- Location
- Singapore
They'll all actually be Gearings, Bensons and Allen M Sumners DDs, not Fletchers.
...Speaking of, I also need to have a Fletcher with a woodsman cap. Hm.
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
@Swordomatic Desron 23 is vaguely easyish - all of them are wearing a Little Beaver patch on their sleeve (cue the confusion when people expect an beaver emblem, and get a Red Indian boy with a boy, becuase his name is Little Beaver). Charlie probably should get a Captain's hat in khaki, what with being the flagship of the best DD skipper in the USN.
11: Mission Complete
- Location
- Singapore
2026, March
"Muh, Chikuma, stop fussing! I'm fine!"
"Yes, yes, Tone~ Oh, did you remember to deploy at half-load, we're not going very far~"
"Yes! You've told me five times already!"
"That's because you forgot until right before we left, Tone."
"Shut up Mogami I'm better than you."
"Aw, that's not very nice, Tone. Do you want a hug?"
"...I-I'll shoot you! I will!"
"U-Uhm… Mogamin, please stop for Kumarinko… It's scary..."
"Ahaha, okay I'll stop…"
"Ara ara~"
"A-And don't you start again, Chikuma!"
Maya sighs in the middle of all this nonsense, while beside her Choukai tents her fingers and smiles nervously. It's literally the eve of battle, and they've done this dozens of times before. How are they still fussing like fucking kids? The fucking Americans probably don't have to deal with this. She just knows it.
"I'm sure this is just how they get ready, Maya," her little sister says in a conciliatory manner. "They'll do their job, Maya, don't worry too much."
"It's annoying," Maya huffs. It's one thing to be loud and perky as a Destroyer. They can't help it, they're full of energy and torpedoes and smaller guns in a tiny body. That's just how it works. But cruisers are supposed to be cool and calm and collected, steel grey missionaries of death, praying for war. Not… Not bigger destroyers.
Choukai chuckles, and she waggles her read turrets at her in a way that should be patting her shoulder. They're hundreds of meters apart even in tight formation, her sister can't exactly actually touch her. "Do you want to do roll call this time?"
"...Alright," Maya says coolly, trying to contain her glee. She turns off the mic, clears her throat, runs through some vocal exercises, and turns the mic back on. "B Division, this is Maya. Sound off."
"Tone, ready! Let them come and die!"
"Chikuma, standing by. All systems ready for combat!"
"Mogami, ready for combat. Ready to kick it off!"
"Kumarinko is… N-No, Mikuma, ready for battle!"
"Choukai, ready to engage! We won't lose!"
Maya nods and heads back into her bridge. As she takes a seat in the captain's chair, she closes her eyes and sees through her radar, feels for everything inside her. Her fairies have done a good job, as expected. Anti-Air Artillery is all ready, and engineering reports all clear.
She nods to herself and smiles in anticipation. "Mutsu, B Division is ready!"
"Understood, Maya, thank you very much~"
She lets out a content sigh and grips her fist, ready for action. "Alright, everyone! Let's tear down the skies!"
Throughout her ship-self, hundreds of fairies shaped like smaller versions of herself, down to the cyan beret, all cry out in joy. To an uninformed outsider, this might seem cute. But in truth, it is the epitome of cool.
For she is Awesome Lady Maya, and everything she does is cool!
----
The beginnings of Maya's cheering transmits through the radio before the feed cuts, and Mutsu chuckles to herself aboard her bridge. Much as she denies it, Maya truly is adorable. She couldn't ask for better escorts.
Her mirth fades, though it does not die, as she turns her attention to the rest of the fleet. She is almost lonely as the only battleship in B Division right now, but only almost.
For Nagato is, quite literally, right next to her.
"Do your best, Mutsu!" Her big sister cheers over Skype. "You can do it! You are great!"
"What she said!" Colorado adds over voicechat. "WHOO WHOO! FULL SPEED, NO BRAKES! WHOOOO!"
"Radio silence, Colorado," Maryland sighs. "We're about to go to war, we should get ready for that!"
"This isn't the radio, it's Skype!"
"You know what I mean!"
Mutsu hums to herself as the sisters bicker again, as the remainder of the fleet checks in. Torpedo Squadrons 1 through 8 are ready. The DESRONs are ready to execute as well, as are the cruiser divisions and the Colorados. All the pieces are in play. The surface fleet may deploy when ready.
All that's left is their shade.
She looks at one of her fairies, who nods and fiddles with the radio. Another hops over and takes her laptop away for safekeeping. The link is established and she has contact in seconds. "Kaga, are the fighters ready?"
"Deploy now, Mutsu. We will interdict their aircraft as much as we can."
"Understood." She changes broadcast to the general channel, and takes in a deep breath. It's do or die. "Everyone, mission start! It's time to free the Philippines!"
----
The operation starts at 0800 sharp, just as planned. The Surface Fleet - that is, every single shipgirl on the side of humanity dispatched to this campaign, under Mutsu's command - travels towards the mouth of Manila Bay in tight formation, a vanguard of destroyers and light cruisers forming a screen against submarines and aircraft. By moving in force, they can close the distance and draw the enemy out of the bay in a safe manner, allowing forward elements to disengage and letting the battle commence on their terms.
At least, that's the idea. What actually happened was…
----
"Oh my poi that's a lot of bombers, poi," Yuudachi says, staring slackjawed at the… Squadron doesn't cut it, flight doesn't carry the gravitas, and air force is far too politically correct, what's the term what's the term...
'Thundercloud, poi!' one of her fairies chirps.
'Natural disaster, poi!' another one of them squeaks.
"Poooooooooooooooooooooooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii--' the rest of them scream incoherently.
She stares, slackjawed, at the natural disaster headed towards them. A bright blue sky turned black and grey by sheer ridiculous numerical density, indicative of just what's going to happen to them the moment it arrives.
"Oh my poi that's a lot of bombers, poi."
Something bounces off her deck armor and Yuudachi flinches. However, the angle feels wrong. She looks around, and finds Asashio standing at the top of her second turret, her fairies ready to hurl another anchor at her. How did they even throw the first that far?! "Stop repeating yourself and OPEN FIRE!"
"There are so many of them how can we stop them?" Ushio wails, even as her guns open up and the seas around her light up painfully bright.
"Squadrons 3 through 7, drop speed, hard port!" Fubuki, drawn into the moment of battle, loses her trepidation and becomes the first destroyer worthy of the term. "Spread formation, overlapping fire! We're not their target, protect the fleet!"
Dense streams of flak are poured into the sky by five torpedo squadrons worth of warship, enough to blacken the sky if there was sky left to blacken. But the density of their formation is deceptive, and their numbers barely dented. A few dozen fall out of the air like stones upon being struck, but enough of them survive to carry on. More than enough, in fact. Far, far more than they need to end the battleships.
The Seaport Princess of Manila Bay really has earned her title, Fubuki realises. There are enough aircraft in the sky to burn out the sun. And all while this is happening, her sonar wails for the sea mines all around them, and her radar and lookouts scream for the force on the horizon.
Dark, brooding, and with too many teeth. The Abyssal Fleet cometh. And they intend to destroy them here, strength for strength, gun to gun.
"The decisive battle," she mutters to herself. The battle that never was in their first life has finally come.
She smiles to herself, determined and excited. Let them come, ship after ship. She has torpedoes aplenty.
"Mutsu-san," she calls out over the radio, "Please, ready your rifles. You'll have targets in ten minutes."
Static, punctuated by frantic gunfire and the buzzing of aircraft.
"Be our eyes, Fubuki," Mutsu says finally, after an eternity of waiting. "Show us the enemy, so we can show them the thunder!"
----
Maya sees the storm of aircraft long before the rest of the fleet does. Her guns are ready, loaded for anti-air, as their formation tightens together to present the densest, most brutally devastating field of death these aircraft will ever see in their very short, very pitiful undead lives.
"Alright everyone, here's how we do it!" Maya grips her hand tight, in clear view of every cruiser and destroyer in sight. "We shoot at the big black thing, and we never stop! If a single fighter makes it to the battleships, I'm personally dropkicking every single one of you!"
"What if you miss, Maya?" Choukai asks slyly.
"Then I'll DROPKICK MYSELF!" Maya roars, and points at the sky. "SO COME ON! LET'S SHOW THOSE BASTARDS JUST HOW OBSOLETE WE ARE!"
----
"That's a lot of planes," Maryland says cautiously, as her fairies load her first salvo. She glances at the battleships in formation, ready to pound the enemy fleet - and the Princess - into dust. "I mean… That's a lot of planes. Should we get ready with evasive maneuvers?"
"I'll take all their bombs on the chin!" West Virginia cheers. "JUST LET THEM FUCKING TRY TO SINK ME!"
"All guns ready to fire!" Colorado declares bombastically. "I'll sink them in a single salvo!"
"Colorado, please focus on the planes."
"No, I'm about to shoot things. Come on, Maryland, keep up."
"I… I don't… What..."
Mutsu chuckles and folds her arms. "Don't worry so much, Maryland. We'll be just fine."
----
Fighter cover arrived in the next six minutes, but those six minutes were possibly the most hectic six minutes they have ever had in air defense. The sea was alight with fire and thunder, reaching out with gobs of flak to tear individual handfuls of the black out of the sky. Priority was given to the bombers, for the battleships were crucial to the plan. Without their heavy artillery, the Seaport Princess could not die.
But it was close. As much as Maya hated to admit it, it was damn close. This was precisely why they did not move on Manila sooner. The sheer air power the enemy could bring to bear was absurd, and even she would be taxed to the limit by numbers alone. One woman cannot stand against the storm. Not when it's this big and fast and shits out bombs and torpedoes.
"Girls! Sector 3 had a breach, we'll have to pick up the slack!"
"Got it!"
But she's not alone. She's not the only line of defense. She was the last line of defense, because she was fucking good at her job, but she wasn't the only one. Her job was to clean up their shit, and she did that with style and awesome flourish. And here, in the back, as the destroyers and cruisers in the first two lines and the vanguard fed her information about force composition and direction, she could properly coordinate the net.
But damn, even if she'll never say it, shooting and coordinating at the same time is hard.
"Ah, Maya!" Her sister exclaims. "Airstrike, closing in on our sector!"
"I see them!"
"They broke through our sector, they were too fast!" Suzuya wails. "I'm sorryyyyyy!"
"Forget about it, tell me everything!"
V Division's fairies tell her own everything she could use. Land launched bombers, carrying heavy payloads that could sink a battleship in a single strike. Worthless to her right now, but a good bit of incentive to kill them first. She catches on airspeed, flight ceiling, maneuverability, hull integrity, everything she would need to calculate the shot.
In the span of seconds, she has her math. And just in time, because here they are!
"Alright, don't let them through! We can't scare them off with artillery so we'll have to kill them good! They've got heavy armor, so we need to hit them a lot!"
"Got it!" Choukai responds.
"Leave it to me!" Tone declares.
The bomber squadron swoops overhead just in time, low enough to feel their wake. They count six of them, flying in loose formation. They'll have to shoot them down individually, and without fighter support. Great.
Maya clenches her fist and bares her teeth. Doesn't fucking matter. Fighter cover or not, she'll make it work. Because she is Awesome Lady Maya! Don't fuck with her!
She opens up, and tears apart the first one in a hail of gunfire with Choukai's help. Tone and Chikuma engage and successfully throw another into the ocean. Mogami and Mikuma deal with the third, and send it into the water with an uninspiring splash.
But there are three left to go. And they're already most of the way there.
"Keep firing!" Maya shouts, as her artillery blazes away. But it won't be enough. Most of her guns don't have the range, and she can't shoot Type 3 shells at the battleships! That's ridiculous! "Mutsu, watch it! Three land bombers, headed your way! Evasive maneuvers, now!"
For some inane reason, for the life of her, Mutsu chuckles instead. "Lighten up, Maya-chan, we'll be alright~ Focus on the rest of them, these three are already dead."
She opens her mouth to protest that, but thinks against it. Mutsu must have a plan. Did she get anti-air upgrades recently? The americans with her probably have powerful AA suites too, but are they enough?
"Look at the time, Maya, it's been six minutes~"
She looks up, out her bridge, and finds another storm brewing. But it's not the enemy. It's theirs, for the fact that it has nothing but fighters.
The three bombers are shot down quickly by a friendly fighter squadron, and they pull up to join the rest of them high in the sky, where their battle is joined.
"Sorry to make you wait, everyone!" Souryuu broadcasts. "Fleet Carrier Souryuu, air wings ready! We'll keep the skies clear!"
"Hiryuu here! We'll take care of their bombers, you deal with their ships!"
"Let's go for a nice lunch after this, everyone!"
"Of course, to celebrate. We should be able to do at least this much as carriers!"
"...Did." Mogami's radio goes quiet, nothing but static. "Did Kaga just have emotion?"
"Kaga has feelings too, Mogamin…"
"No, not like that. She sounds excited, somehow."
Maya lets out a laugh, and clenches her fists. "Alright, everyone! Let's turn this shit around!"
----
"Let's turn this around, everyone," Fubuki says over the din of shell fire and the air battle above them. They've deployed smoke for the rest of the fleet, and the abyssals are emerging from the bay. They'll be engaged in surface action soon. "Launch your torpedoes and get ready to head out, I have a plan."
----
"Mutsu, I just got a message from Fubuki," Fusou says politely. "She has a plan… And I believe she's going to use the vanguard for it."
Mutsu shrugs, always keeping an eye on the bay. The moment she sees them, she'll open fire. That's how it will be. "Understood. If she can find volunteers, she can have them. I think I know the plan she has in mind."
"And... you're okay with it?"
"Of course. Nagato trusts her, and so do I."
----
"You're fucking crazy, Fubuki," Fletcher says breathlessly. "Really? Really?! In the middle of all this?!"
"Fubuki can do it!" Ushio asserts. "I… I believe in her!"
"We'll get it done," Asashio says, cracking her knuckles one by one. "It'll be just like Okinawa."
Agano turns to Sakawa and they nod to each other. "We'll be on station to provide support fire," Sakawa says. "Torpedo Squadron 2 is ready as well!"
Fletcher looks at her division mates. They've done hunter pack tactics before, and they've dealt with surface fleets before, but not on this scale and not in a pitched battle. It's frankly insane. How could Torpedo Squadron 3 do this on their own, or even at all? "Well… What do you girls think?"
"I'm up for it," Strong says with a shrug.
"Let's go for it," O'Bannon agrees.
"I'm happy to oblige," Nicholas says evenly.
Fletcher sighs and turns to her new friend. "Well, that settles it," she says to Fubuki. "When do we start?"
Fubuki smiles. "Right now."
----
"Tabulating windspeed, trajectory, bearing, rudder shift timing, target priority, displacement, draft, speed, and barrel wear…" West Virginia grunts to herself and punches the air. "Alright! Ready to engage!"
Colorado grins, and folds her arms. "Alright, let's kick ass and get it done! Time to show the world why we're still the Big Seven!"
"Mutsu, we're good to go!" Maryland adjusts her spectacles, looking at her peer. "Ready when you are!"
"As are we," Fusou and Yamashirou chime in, their heavy twelve-gun broadside primed for battle.
Mutsu nods. There's no mistaking it now. The decisive battle is here. The only thing that could make it better is if Nagato was here.
No matter. She'll just tell Nagato all about it when she gets home.
"Hold for the signal," Mutsu says. "Trust in the vanguard."
----
The mouth of the Bay is teeming with warships. Destroyers and cruisers, PT boats and battleships, and the carriers in the middle of the bay, untouchable for nature's barriers and the storm of aircraft overhead. It is full of mines floating just deep enough to give anything and anyone nearby a bad day, and there is enough coastal artillery to ensure that any shipgirl that so much as is slightly implied to exist near the mouth of the bay will be deleted from existence by their displacement in artillery.
As the girls of Torpedo Squadron 3 can attest.
Fubuki knew exactly what she was going into, and she didn't care much before. This is what she was made to do. Her existence as a destroyer was always going to be high-risk high-explosion. Her success as a warship in her second life all comes down to a dogged disregard for frayed nerves and anxiety in the face of certain death.
But as she hides behind the walls of the bay in a puff of smoke with the rest of her vanguard unit, catching her breath and checking in on everyone, she can't help but think of what happened earlier. Making the hardest turn she has ever turned, turning hard enough to make her hull scream and pop. All while dodging enough shells to make the seafood averse green in the face.
Fubuki can't help but regret the life choices that lead up to this point, because wow that was a lot of guns. There must have been dozens of shore batteries, and dozens more ships, and even more screaming that - wait that was from her and her fairies.
Oh wow when did she lose that turret.
Oh wow when did she lose that turret and half her anti-air battery.
"And you wanted to charge straight in, you bloodthirsty numpty," Asashio grumbles.
"Hehehe… Sorry…"
"We'd be right behind you all the same," Fletcher asserts. "Right, girls? Radford? Jenkins?"
"...Fletch, Rad and Jenkins didn't come along, remember?" Strong reminds her. "They're in overhaul. Same with Val'."
"...Oh, right."
Right. Okay. She needs to distract the topic. "Report, everyone!"
"I lost two torpedo tubes, poi!" Yuudachi cries. "My torpedoesssssssss!"
"Smoke launcher's damaged, won't be able to provide cover for the fleet!" Asashio states professionally. "Also my smokestacks have more holes in them."
"Big sis bumped against a sea mine!" Sakawa says loudly. "I think her rudder is jammed!"
"It's not jammed, Sakawa, I just turn a little bit less well! No worries, Agano is still good!"
"Please don't hit me please don't hit me please don't hit me…!" Ushio mutters loudly. And, assuming Fubuki's eyes still work, the Abyssals haven't hit her yet. How fortunate.
"Alright!" Fubuki nods. "DESRON 21, are you alright?"
"I'm good," Strong says coolly.
"All systems green," O'Bannon replies.
"I lost my radar!" Fletcher responds.
Everyone looks in her direction and are immediately rewarded. Fletcher's cat ears are missing from her head.
"S-Stoppit! We're in a battle right now!"
"Taylor here, still good."
"A shell bounced off my helmet and knocked it off," Nicholas says in her usual bored-but-not-bored fashion, sounding just like Hibiki does. Polite, calm, and emotionally dead.
"...Nic, is your--"
"Help me, Taylor."
Everyone looks in her direction now. True to form, her ship is fine. Her helmet, however, has flown off, and her hair is now free to flop around in the sea breeze. It's really nice and fluffy. Fubuki would like to touch it.
Alright, that's enough daydreaming. Back to fighting.
"Can everyone still fight?"
"Yep," Yuudachi, Asashio and Ushio say.
"Ayep!" Agano and Sakawa say.
"We're good!" Fletcher, Strong, O'Bannon and Taylor say.
"Help me," Nicholas says in muffled tones.
"Right." Fubuki claps her hands together. "Did everyone fire all their torpedoes?"
----
One moment, the bay is silent and still but for the moaning of shades and the calming crash of waves in a turbulent fleet action. Dark, foreboding, and trembling with the force of a hundred-ship navy, but silent and still nonetheless.
The next moment it violently explodes.
Huge towering plumes of flame are thrown up as torpedo after torpedo detonates inside their twisted abyssal hulls. They die, shrieking and screaming, an agonising symphony of jagged steel. Destroyer, cruiser, patrol boat, even their mighty battleships… No matter. None are proof against the fish of the sea. Not inside the cramped confines of the bay. Not when sea mines make maneuvering absolutely impossible.
Losses are relatively light, considering the number of torpedoes launched and the skill of the ships involved. Stories would arise that this salvo of eighty-something torpedoes that slew eight destroyers, three light cruisers, one heavy cruiser and two battleships would be the least successful torpedo launch of their careers, but that is neither here nor there.
What matters is the location of the Seaport Princess. And the sudden hole in her screen.
----
"Mutsu-san, we have the location of the Seaport Princess and her coastal batteries! Transmitting pictures, sketches, GPS coordinates and ideal targeting telemetry now!"
Mutsu frowns. "I get the coordinates and telemetry, Fubuki, but how are you going to send all the rest?"
The battleship feels a tug on her skirt, and looks down to find one of her fairies, presenting her laptop high above her head, the screen showing a skype chat between herself and Fubuki. Complete with maps, sketches, and pictures. Hand drawn, in some cases.
"I hope that got through! Internet's really bad here!"
"...You continue to impress, Fubuki," she laughs. "Alright, we'll take it from here! Keep an eye on the bay, Fubuki, I'll send reinforcements shortly."
"Understood! I'll do my best!"
Mutsu takes in a breath as the destroyer cuts the line. Looks like it's time to end this. "V Division, B Division, ready main artillery. Cruisers will hit the shore batteries, Battleships will kill the Princess."
"Gotcha!"
"On it!"
"K-Kumarinko… Will do her best!"
----
"Maaaaaaan," Yuudachi sighs, "I, like, wish I still had my torpedo tubes…"
"There there, Yuudachi," Ushio tries to say reassuringly. "Our job is done… I think? Right?"
"I hope so," Fubuki says. She looks up, at the air battle. From where she is, it looks like an angry mosaic. Maybe the planes are finally thinning out. "Well, here's to hoping."
"Nicholas, could you check on the shore artillery?"
"My hair is covering my eyes. I can't see very good, Fletcher."
"Put on your helmet, Nic."
"It fell off."
"What?"
"It fell off. I think I need a new one."
Fubuki starts to chuckle, but then she feels it. She hears it, too, but it is more like a feeling. Even buffeted by landmass, blunted by just how many abyssals and husks and space is between her and Manila proper, she can't help but feel the hammer blows in her chest. Each thundering crash like a jackhammer in her lungs, each flash of light like a warm candlelight.
She looks around, with sonar and radar, and she knows that everyone feels the same way. Like the hammer of god is beating them around, playing pool with them as cue balls. Beating against their chests like a skilled drummer, one after another like a rhythmic, unending drum solo.
And all of this while kilometers from shore, and while protected behind a landmass. She can only imagine what it feels like to be the target.
"...Could you take a look, Nicholas?" Fletcher asks again.
"Don't have to," Nicholas responds. "It's the same as it usually is."
"Like God is clapping with both hands at the biggest, brightest firework show on Earth," sighs Fletcher.
"...Nice vocabulary," O'Bannon says flatly.
"W-Well… I like books."
"It shows."
"...You like potatoes."
"And you used to have cat ears. But now, here we are."
"Dammit."
"There there, little sis…"
"Who's a little sis?!"
This time, Fubuki chuckles for real. She could have had all her turrets blown off, and today would still be a good day. "Alright, everyone, remember to stay sharp! We still have to keep the abyssal fleet inside the bay!"
"Got it!"
----
The Seaport Princess takes four hours to die. Four hours of ceaseless artillery, fired with pinpoint accuracy from over thirty kilometers away, as the remnants of her fleet are penned in by the rest of the fleet. In the end, her own minefield was her unmaking. She dies screaming, cursing the names of ships that don't care. She dies as testament to the Big Seven, in honor of the battle they were made to fight, but which never came to pass.
The battle ended several hours after that, concluding with Akebono beating a PT boat to death with another PT boat. Records differ on how exactly she did that, and eyewitness reports conflict on almost every detail. The JMSDF eventually files the incident under 'More Goddamn Bullshit Shipgirl Nonsense' and deletes the event from collective memory. None will speak of the time Akebono got horribly flustered and horribly violent in the middle of a battle, by order of the Admiral.
But the battle does end. And with the death of the Seaport Princess, the Philippines are free. They are human again. It will take time for USN elements to be redeployed to protect those waters again, and new agreements will have to be drafted between them and the JMSDF. But there is no doubting that the first offensive campaign in the Abyssal War has become a success. In time, perhaps the islands can even rebuild.
For the time being, however, the JMSDF Offensive Fleet has other things to worry about. Like irate Destroyers. And irate Battleships. And hungry hungry Carriers. And what happens when you have dozens of bored battle-hardened Destroyers sitting around with nothing to do and a lot of ordnance to play with.
God help us all.
----
"Uh… Fubuki-chan…"
"Hm?" Fubuki looks over at Yuudachi after setting down in port and disembarking from her ship body, as she stretches an arm over her head to straighten out her kinks. "What's wrong, Yuudachi?"
Her friend is a mess, all things considered. Her legs look burned and, frankly, kind of roughed up. Considering that her torpedo tubes were blown up, sympathetic damage was inevitable. They'll heal with time, as she gets repaired by her fairies and, if there's space, back in port. But for now Fubuki just rummages around for tape in her pockets.
She doesn't seem to notice her leg burns, though. Instead, Yuudachi just points at her. "W-Well… I mean… What happened to your… Your turret?"
"My turret?" Fubuki frowns, and tries to snap her fingers. She fails, because no sound comes out. "Right, one of my turrets got shot off! It's fine, I'll live."
"Well… I mean…"
"You're so indecisive," Asashio sighs. Her sympathetic wounds, in this case, is more having her vest torn in half, but she has a shirt underneath anyways so her modesty is protected. Thankfully, otherwise they'll never hear the end of it. "Fubuki, what happened to your hand?"
"My… Hand?" Fubuki pulls out her hand and waves at them. "It's fine, see?"
"The other hand."
Fubuki tries to wave with it too, but only just realises that her arm is missing.
Wait what her arm's missing?!
"Wait, what? WHAT?! WHAT?!"
"It happened again," Asashio sighs. "Good grief, you really should pay attention to yourself more often."
"It's like when Fubuki's bow caved in and she didn't realise," Yuudachi remarks with a smile.
"H-H-How did I lose an arm?! I just… I just lost one turret!" Fubuki, for her part, just flails her remaining arm around in shock. "It's just one turret! That's maybe a few fingers, a hand at worst!"
"Uhm… I mean…" Ushio shuffles into the conversation, untouched as usual. Instead, she just points at Fubuki's ship body, floating behind them.
The ship body missing a smoke stack, two torpedo tubes, and which has a huge hole in the side of the superstructure.
"...How did I miss that?!"
"Adrenaline, poi!"
"Sheer dogged stupidity under fire," Asashio sighs. "Well, that's what we're here for, right?"
"Oh man Shirayuki is going to be so mad don't tell her!"
"Uhm…" Ushio looks at her hands, clenching them together. "I mean… Sorry, Fubuki…"
Fubuki sniffs, and starts to shiver.
"H-Hey, it'll be okay," Yuudachi says. "It'll be, like, fine! Totally, completely fine! She'll, like, understand!"
"NO SHE WON'T AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"
----
"Owwwwwww," West Virginia pouts, as she digs in one of her ears with a pinkie. "That hurt…"
"Did you hear something?" Maryland asks.
"Didn't you?" Virginia responds.
Colorado ignores the two of them and just looks at the screen. On board the USS Colorado, the three of them - and a number of their escorts - are now trying to fiddle with gosh-darned technology and get a video call on. Eventually, two of Colorado's fairies manage it, and they jump in the air to do a mid-air high-five with each other. Colorado claps, and rubs her palms together. "Alrighty, alrighty… There! On screen, everyone!"
The projector lights up, and they make contact with USN High Command at last, starting with the stern, finger-tented visage of Fleet Admiral Harper, flanked by two of the greatest battleships ever made in history.
"Congrats on the job well done, girls," he says with a smile. His smile fades and he straightens up. "Report."
"No casualties," Maryland states with a nudge of her spectacles. "Just a little bedrest and we'll be good to go. Expect us home in a month or two."
"We have the Philippines again, everyone!" Colorado cheers. "Whoo whoo!"
One of the battleships with the Admiral leans forward, grinning widely, and only pausing to pull aside one of her bright blonde locks. "Nice work, girls! How was fighting again?"
"The train has no breaks!" Colorado cheers.
"I wanna do it again!" West Virginia cheers.
"It was pretty fun," Maryland begrudgingly admits.
"Oh, Mommyland, admit it! You love fighting with us!"
"For the last time Virginia stop calling me that I am your sister--"
"How're things going on your end, Iowa?" Colorado asks.
The battleship, wearing a t-shirt and a half-zipped hoodie over it, just smiles and gives a thumbs up. "All things great here, girls! Jersey's aching for another run on the big bitchface but don't sweat it, we can wait~"
"We can," Harper agrees. "But all the same, try to come back ASAP. They may launch a counterattack at any time."
Iowa laughs and wraps her arms around the Admiral in a big hug. "Aw, are you worried we can't handle it, Admiral? You're so sweet~ <3"
"I still have no idea how you do that," Harper sighs.
"Oh, you just need a showboat's soul, Admiral!" The other battleship with the Admiral leans forward to right beside his ear, her long platinum blonde hair licking against his shoulder, and knowingly glances and winks at the camera with one of her blue star-symboled eyes. "Right, everyone~~? >:3"
"How do YOU do it."
"Showboat secrets~ <3"
"Oh my god."
O'Bannon steps forward right in front of Colorado's laptop, dragging Nicholas along, and waves. "Hi, Wisky."
"Oh, oh! Bannie! Nicky!" USS Wisconsin picks the Admiral's laptop up and lifts it up, letting her face - and bits of her showy vest/corset outfit - dominate the screen. "How're my sister's fluffy little escorts doing?"
"Nicholas lost her helmet, but it's okay." O'Bannon lets the corners of her mouth curl up slightly. Nicholas puts her hands on her helmet and shakes her head. "I met some potatoes. They were nice."
"Oh I bet they were, Bannie!"
"Wisconsin give me my laptop back," Harper says in the background.
"Aw, Admiral, let her have some fun with our cute destroyers!" Iowa laughs.
"Is Mo there?" Nicholas asks.
"She's on patrol right now," Wisconsin tells her. Her eyes widen and she smiles brightly. "Oh oh! Do you want me to call her for you? I can make this a conference call!"
"It's fine," Nicholas tells her. "Tell her we said hi."
"Sure sure! You girls be good, y'hear?" She looks over her shoulder and giggles. "Oh, sorry, gotta go! Admiral's getting rowdy!"
"I'm not rowdy I'm still at my desk."
"O~oooh, fiesty! You think you could handle me, Ad-mi-raaaaaal~? >:3"
"Stop that."
"Hehehe, alrighty~"
"Well, anyways!" Iowa pops into view, right over her sister's shoulder. Wisconsin giggles and bumps heads with her. "Fun and games aside! Maryland?"
"Aye!"
"Pick a patrol detail, they'll be watching the Philippines for now. The rest of you pack up and get home ASAP, alright?"
The Destroyers gathered in the room groan and moan. But there's not much they can do when the Flagship of the USN tells them what to do, right? Not when she's using her official voice. And Ms. Iowa is definitely using her official voice right now.
"I know I know it's sad," Iowa nods sympathetically. "Buuuu~uuuuut I know a bunch of good girls who are going to have a bunch of backpay and time off soon! Whaddya say?"
The Destroyers start cheering. "You're the best!" some of the Fletchers say.
"We share," Wisky adds with a wink.
"Well, I'll leave you girls to it." Iowa nods and does a quick salute. Wisky, lacking hands, just nods. "Good work, girls. Come back soon, we'll throw a party!"
"Gotcha," Maryland nods. "See you soonish, Iowa."
The call ends, and Maryland turns and claps her hands. It's time for her to do Flagship things, isn't it?
"Alright, girls," she starts, and rubs her palms together. "Who wants to stay behind and look after what we took back?"
----
"I wasn't finished," Admiral Harper sighs as Wisconsin sets his laptop back down before him, sticking her tongue out cheekily.
Iowa nods and sits down beside him, arms crossed. "I know you weren't, but that can wait," she says with a smile. "They just won a fight, right? We can give them tonight, at least."
"I know," Harper sighs. "I don't like telling them this much, either."
"Then don't," Wisky says nonchalantly. "The Aleutian Islands are a drag anyways."
"They're okay," Iowa shrugs.
The Admiral shakes his head. "No, no, Wisky's right, they suck. But it's our job to make it suck less."
He exhales, and looks up at one of the maps on the wall. The one centered on the islands west of Alaska, crawling with arrows and little icons.
"We've failed to kill that Abyssal three times already," he says ruefully. "It can't be helped. We need their support."
Iowa shrugs and grins. "Then let's get it! I'm fine with it, Wisky's fine with it, Mo will be fine with it, and I know Jersey'll love having air support again!"
"Jer won't like japanese air support though," Wisky reminds her.
"Eh," Iowa sighs. "If she's that bothered I can paint stars in her eyes, so everything looks more american."
"Hey!" Wisky points at her dramatically. "Stars are my thing!"
"Fine fine. Stripes?"
Wisconsin pauses. "Slightly better. We'll talk about it."
"You can talk about it outside my office," Harper says dryly.
"Aw, but you have a minibar!"
"It's my minibar."
Wisky sticks her tongue out. "Aw, spoilsport~ >:3"
"And you stop that."
----
"He's right there, you know?"
"I know, I know, stop reminding me…"
"Then go forth! With all your spirit!"
"B-But I can't, he's… He's talking to someone…"
Hiei huffs and scowls at her glorious big sister's nervousness, and looks in the direction of the Admiral and the Minister of Defense, currently talking and laughing and drinking all the wine. Disgraceful. They're both drunk, and while she can't say anything about the Minister, the Admiral is supposed to be responsible for them. How can a man be responsible when his blood is mostly wine?
"You should talk to him!" Haruna says encouragingly, holding her fists close to her chest. "Haruna… Haruna believes in you!"
"There's only a 3% chance that the Admiral brushes you off when talking to Minister Naoto," Kirishima tells her. "You're one of the Admiral's favourite battleships, you'll definitely get to talk to him."
Nagato clears her throat, and is met with three sets of glares. She smiles politely at them, and lets the annoyance slake off like rainwater. "The Secretary of the Navy just joined the party," she whispers to them.
"What?!" Kongou turns, and finds a third old man joining the Admiral and the Minister of Defense's conversation. The three of them share greetings, one of them says something, and all three of them laugh loudly and partake in man hugs.
"...24% chance the Admiral brushes you off," Kirishima mutters.
"Kirishima!" Haruna chides.
"I have to be honest. Forgive me, big sis!"
"Hieiiiiiiiiiiiii…"
She wilts, and slinks down further against the wall. "M-Maybe I should just wait for the Commander, dess… He could get me in."
"The Commander's not coming for at least an hour," Nagato says casually to them. "He has work to do, I believe."
"While we're celebrating?" Kirishima asks, only half-offended.
Nagato snickers. "The Commander seems to hate fun, remember?"
"Oh, right." Hiei grunts, and then she claps her hands. "Oh, big sis! Maybe we could go together, and show the Admiral your new dress!"
"W-What?! But I'm wearing my normal clothes!"
"No… No, that's genius, Hiei!" Kirishima pumps her fists and the two sisters partake in high-fives. "I have scissors, we can alter the outfit on the fly!"
"W-Wait, just--"
"Haruna brought trimmings!" Haruna says cheerfully, and presents all manner of gold and silver decorative trim, dangling between her fingers.
"N-No, that's not… I'm still wearing--"
"Hmhm, do not fret, big sis, for I have been mastering the art of the scissors and thread!" Kirishima produces a spool and a large pair of scissors, snipping them menacingly. "Stay still, and you will be ready for the Admiral!"
"We shall show him the power of the Kongou Class' spirit!" Hiei cheers.
"Makeover!" Haruna cries.
"N-No! No no no!" Flustered, blushing bright read, Kongou falls over on the cake table and only just manages to avoid touching the food. "This isn't right, dess! It's not the time and the place for anything!"
"On the contrary, big sis, now is the time and the place for everything!" Her glasses hit the light just right, and are completely opaque. "Stand still and think of the Admiral!"
"NOOOOOO!" Kongou whirls around, holding a cake over her head. "NOOOOOOOOOO!" She throws it at Kirishima out of sheer flustered instinct, hoping desperately to end this torment. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Kirishima, being a fast battleship intimately aware of Kongou's fighting style, dodges it easily. And so the large three-layered cake sails through the air at breakneck speed… Right at the Admiral, Minister and Secretary.
It's like time stood still for the four of them. But try as they might, they cannot intercept it in time.
Kongou covers her mouth, and says goodbye to burning love. Dess.
The cake makes contact, and splatters all over the Admiral's face.
"W-What?!" Kirishima exclaims.
"H-Hiei?!" Hiei screams.
"DESS?!" Kongou cries out.
His expression is even and neutral, betraying no pain or shame or emotion at all. The Minister and Secretary blink in surprise behind him, shocked to find themselves completely uncaked.
"Sorry about that, it seems that the table tripped and fell over." The Admiral pauses, and scoops up some cake with a finger to put in his mouth. "And flew all the way over to us in the center of the room."
"Your tables need to be shorter," the Secretary observes.
"I'm sure we can cut that budget a bit," Minister Naoto jokes.
"Do not," the Admiral responds.
Kongou falls to her knees, a shivering mess. The Admiral must hate her now. She wasn't around to deal with the Philippines because she needed repairs and requested a quick return. She didn't rejoin the surface fleet in time because she wanted to know the Admiral better. And now she just threw cake at his face. Oh. Oh no he must really really really really really hate her now. Oh no. Oh noooooo.
"I-I'm sorry," she says, half-blubbering for the tears in her eyes, on her hands and knees before the Admiral. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
Admiral Takamichi says nothing. He just kneels down before her, his face still covered in cake.
"Don't blame our sister, Admiral! I-It's our fault!"
"There was too much spirit! Big sis always told me things would go wrong with too much spirit!"
"H-Haruna… will be okay…!"
The Admiral sighs, and puts a hand on Kongou's head. She looks up with big, wide tear-filled eyes.
"D-Dess…?"
"Dear me," he sighs. "Dear, dear me. I seem to have made one of my precious battleships cry."
"...Dess?"
"It's okay, I don't hate you." He pulls her up and drags her into a hug. "I won't hate you. I won't."
"R...R-Really? Never?"
"Never." He pats her head again. "Because Kongou is a good girl."
"D...Dess…"
And so the party continued, and it was all the livelier. Which would prove to be a problem for Lt. Commander Konoe when he arrived later. Which might involve alcoholism, irresponsibility, and gratuitous posing.
But that's a story for another time.
----
"Muh, Chikuma, stop fussing! I'm fine!"
"Yes, yes, Tone~ Oh, did you remember to deploy at half-load, we're not going very far~"
"Yes! You've told me five times already!"
"That's because you forgot until right before we left, Tone."
"Shut up Mogami I'm better than you."
"Aw, that's not very nice, Tone. Do you want a hug?"
"...I-I'll shoot you! I will!"
"U-Uhm… Mogamin, please stop for Kumarinko… It's scary..."
"Ahaha, okay I'll stop…"
"Ara ara~"
"A-And don't you start again, Chikuma!"
Maya sighs in the middle of all this nonsense, while beside her Choukai tents her fingers and smiles nervously. It's literally the eve of battle, and they've done this dozens of times before. How are they still fussing like fucking kids? The fucking Americans probably don't have to deal with this. She just knows it.
"I'm sure this is just how they get ready, Maya," her little sister says in a conciliatory manner. "They'll do their job, Maya, don't worry too much."
"It's annoying," Maya huffs. It's one thing to be loud and perky as a Destroyer. They can't help it, they're full of energy and torpedoes and smaller guns in a tiny body. That's just how it works. But cruisers are supposed to be cool and calm and collected, steel grey missionaries of death, praying for war. Not… Not bigger destroyers.
Choukai chuckles, and she waggles her read turrets at her in a way that should be patting her shoulder. They're hundreds of meters apart even in tight formation, her sister can't exactly actually touch her. "Do you want to do roll call this time?"
"...Alright," Maya says coolly, trying to contain her glee. She turns off the mic, clears her throat, runs through some vocal exercises, and turns the mic back on. "B Division, this is Maya. Sound off."
"Tone, ready! Let them come and die!"
"Chikuma, standing by. All systems ready for combat!"
"Mogami, ready for combat. Ready to kick it off!"
"Kumarinko is… N-No, Mikuma, ready for battle!"
"Choukai, ready to engage! We won't lose!"
Maya nods and heads back into her bridge. As she takes a seat in the captain's chair, she closes her eyes and sees through her radar, feels for everything inside her. Her fairies have done a good job, as expected. Anti-Air Artillery is all ready, and engineering reports all clear.
She nods to herself and smiles in anticipation. "Mutsu, B Division is ready!"
"Understood, Maya, thank you very much~"
She lets out a content sigh and grips her fist, ready for action. "Alright, everyone! Let's tear down the skies!"
Throughout her ship-self, hundreds of fairies shaped like smaller versions of herself, down to the cyan beret, all cry out in joy. To an uninformed outsider, this might seem cute. But in truth, it is the epitome of cool.
For she is Awesome Lady Maya, and everything she does is cool!
----
The beginnings of Maya's cheering transmits through the radio before the feed cuts, and Mutsu chuckles to herself aboard her bridge. Much as she denies it, Maya truly is adorable. She couldn't ask for better escorts.
Her mirth fades, though it does not die, as she turns her attention to the rest of the fleet. She is almost lonely as the only battleship in B Division right now, but only almost.
For Nagato is, quite literally, right next to her.
"Do your best, Mutsu!" Her big sister cheers over Skype. "You can do it! You are great!"
"What she said!" Colorado adds over voicechat. "WHOO WHOO! FULL SPEED, NO BRAKES! WHOOOO!"
"Radio silence, Colorado," Maryland sighs. "We're about to go to war, we should get ready for that!"
"This isn't the radio, it's Skype!"
"You know what I mean!"
Mutsu hums to herself as the sisters bicker again, as the remainder of the fleet checks in. Torpedo Squadrons 1 through 8 are ready. The DESRONs are ready to execute as well, as are the cruiser divisions and the Colorados. All the pieces are in play. The surface fleet may deploy when ready.
All that's left is their shade.
She looks at one of her fairies, who nods and fiddles with the radio. Another hops over and takes her laptop away for safekeeping. The link is established and she has contact in seconds. "Kaga, are the fighters ready?"
"Deploy now, Mutsu. We will interdict their aircraft as much as we can."
"Understood." She changes broadcast to the general channel, and takes in a deep breath. It's do or die. "Everyone, mission start! It's time to free the Philippines!"
----
The operation starts at 0800 sharp, just as planned. The Surface Fleet - that is, every single shipgirl on the side of humanity dispatched to this campaign, under Mutsu's command - travels towards the mouth of Manila Bay in tight formation, a vanguard of destroyers and light cruisers forming a screen against submarines and aircraft. By moving in force, they can close the distance and draw the enemy out of the bay in a safe manner, allowing forward elements to disengage and letting the battle commence on their terms.
At least, that's the idea. What actually happened was…
----
"Oh my poi that's a lot of bombers, poi," Yuudachi says, staring slackjawed at the… Squadron doesn't cut it, flight doesn't carry the gravitas, and air force is far too politically correct, what's the term what's the term...
'Thundercloud, poi!' one of her fairies chirps.
'Natural disaster, poi!' another one of them squeaks.
"Poooooooooooooooooooooooooooooiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii--' the rest of them scream incoherently.
She stares, slackjawed, at the natural disaster headed towards them. A bright blue sky turned black and grey by sheer ridiculous numerical density, indicative of just what's going to happen to them the moment it arrives.
"Oh my poi that's a lot of bombers, poi."
Something bounces off her deck armor and Yuudachi flinches. However, the angle feels wrong. She looks around, and finds Asashio standing at the top of her second turret, her fairies ready to hurl another anchor at her. How did they even throw the first that far?! "Stop repeating yourself and OPEN FIRE!"
"There are so many of them how can we stop them?" Ushio wails, even as her guns open up and the seas around her light up painfully bright.
"Squadrons 3 through 7, drop speed, hard port!" Fubuki, drawn into the moment of battle, loses her trepidation and becomes the first destroyer worthy of the term. "Spread formation, overlapping fire! We're not their target, protect the fleet!"
Dense streams of flak are poured into the sky by five torpedo squadrons worth of warship, enough to blacken the sky if there was sky left to blacken. But the density of their formation is deceptive, and their numbers barely dented. A few dozen fall out of the air like stones upon being struck, but enough of them survive to carry on. More than enough, in fact. Far, far more than they need to end the battleships.
The Seaport Princess of Manila Bay really has earned her title, Fubuki realises. There are enough aircraft in the sky to burn out the sun. And all while this is happening, her sonar wails for the sea mines all around them, and her radar and lookouts scream for the force on the horizon.
Dark, brooding, and with too many teeth. The Abyssal Fleet cometh. And they intend to destroy them here, strength for strength, gun to gun.
"The decisive battle," she mutters to herself. The battle that never was in their first life has finally come.
She smiles to herself, determined and excited. Let them come, ship after ship. She has torpedoes aplenty.
"Mutsu-san," she calls out over the radio, "Please, ready your rifles. You'll have targets in ten minutes."
Static, punctuated by frantic gunfire and the buzzing of aircraft.
"Be our eyes, Fubuki," Mutsu says finally, after an eternity of waiting. "Show us the enemy, so we can show them the thunder!"
----
Maya sees the storm of aircraft long before the rest of the fleet does. Her guns are ready, loaded for anti-air, as their formation tightens together to present the densest, most brutally devastating field of death these aircraft will ever see in their very short, very pitiful undead lives.
"Alright everyone, here's how we do it!" Maya grips her hand tight, in clear view of every cruiser and destroyer in sight. "We shoot at the big black thing, and we never stop! If a single fighter makes it to the battleships, I'm personally dropkicking every single one of you!"
"What if you miss, Maya?" Choukai asks slyly.
"Then I'll DROPKICK MYSELF!" Maya roars, and points at the sky. "SO COME ON! LET'S SHOW THOSE BASTARDS JUST HOW OBSOLETE WE ARE!"
----
"That's a lot of planes," Maryland says cautiously, as her fairies load her first salvo. She glances at the battleships in formation, ready to pound the enemy fleet - and the Princess - into dust. "I mean… That's a lot of planes. Should we get ready with evasive maneuvers?"
"I'll take all their bombs on the chin!" West Virginia cheers. "JUST LET THEM FUCKING TRY TO SINK ME!"
"All guns ready to fire!" Colorado declares bombastically. "I'll sink them in a single salvo!"
"Colorado, please focus on the planes."
"No, I'm about to shoot things. Come on, Maryland, keep up."
"I… I don't… What..."
Mutsu chuckles and folds her arms. "Don't worry so much, Maryland. We'll be just fine."
----
Fighter cover arrived in the next six minutes, but those six minutes were possibly the most hectic six minutes they have ever had in air defense. The sea was alight with fire and thunder, reaching out with gobs of flak to tear individual handfuls of the black out of the sky. Priority was given to the bombers, for the battleships were crucial to the plan. Without their heavy artillery, the Seaport Princess could not die.
But it was close. As much as Maya hated to admit it, it was damn close. This was precisely why they did not move on Manila sooner. The sheer air power the enemy could bring to bear was absurd, and even she would be taxed to the limit by numbers alone. One woman cannot stand against the storm. Not when it's this big and fast and shits out bombs and torpedoes.
"Girls! Sector 3 had a breach, we'll have to pick up the slack!"
"Got it!"
But she's not alone. She's not the only line of defense. She was the last line of defense, because she was fucking good at her job, but she wasn't the only one. Her job was to clean up their shit, and she did that with style and awesome flourish. And here, in the back, as the destroyers and cruisers in the first two lines and the vanguard fed her information about force composition and direction, she could properly coordinate the net.
But damn, even if she'll never say it, shooting and coordinating at the same time is hard.
"Ah, Maya!" Her sister exclaims. "Airstrike, closing in on our sector!"
"I see them!"
"They broke through our sector, they were too fast!" Suzuya wails. "I'm sorryyyyyy!"
"Forget about it, tell me everything!"
V Division's fairies tell her own everything she could use. Land launched bombers, carrying heavy payloads that could sink a battleship in a single strike. Worthless to her right now, but a good bit of incentive to kill them first. She catches on airspeed, flight ceiling, maneuverability, hull integrity, everything she would need to calculate the shot.
In the span of seconds, she has her math. And just in time, because here they are!
"Alright, don't let them through! We can't scare them off with artillery so we'll have to kill them good! They've got heavy armor, so we need to hit them a lot!"
"Got it!" Choukai responds.
"Leave it to me!" Tone declares.
The bomber squadron swoops overhead just in time, low enough to feel their wake. They count six of them, flying in loose formation. They'll have to shoot them down individually, and without fighter support. Great.
Maya clenches her fist and bares her teeth. Doesn't fucking matter. Fighter cover or not, she'll make it work. Because she is Awesome Lady Maya! Don't fuck with her!
She opens up, and tears apart the first one in a hail of gunfire with Choukai's help. Tone and Chikuma engage and successfully throw another into the ocean. Mogami and Mikuma deal with the third, and send it into the water with an uninspiring splash.
But there are three left to go. And they're already most of the way there.
"Keep firing!" Maya shouts, as her artillery blazes away. But it won't be enough. Most of her guns don't have the range, and she can't shoot Type 3 shells at the battleships! That's ridiculous! "Mutsu, watch it! Three land bombers, headed your way! Evasive maneuvers, now!"
For some inane reason, for the life of her, Mutsu chuckles instead. "Lighten up, Maya-chan, we'll be alright~ Focus on the rest of them, these three are already dead."
She opens her mouth to protest that, but thinks against it. Mutsu must have a plan. Did she get anti-air upgrades recently? The americans with her probably have powerful AA suites too, but are they enough?
"Look at the time, Maya, it's been six minutes~"
She looks up, out her bridge, and finds another storm brewing. But it's not the enemy. It's theirs, for the fact that it has nothing but fighters.
The three bombers are shot down quickly by a friendly fighter squadron, and they pull up to join the rest of them high in the sky, where their battle is joined.
"Sorry to make you wait, everyone!" Souryuu broadcasts. "Fleet Carrier Souryuu, air wings ready! We'll keep the skies clear!"
"Hiryuu here! We'll take care of their bombers, you deal with their ships!"
"Let's go for a nice lunch after this, everyone!"
"Of course, to celebrate. We should be able to do at least this much as carriers!"
"...Did." Mogami's radio goes quiet, nothing but static. "Did Kaga just have emotion?"
"Kaga has feelings too, Mogamin…"
"No, not like that. She sounds excited, somehow."
Maya lets out a laugh, and clenches her fists. "Alright, everyone! Let's turn this shit around!"
----
"Let's turn this around, everyone," Fubuki says over the din of shell fire and the air battle above them. They've deployed smoke for the rest of the fleet, and the abyssals are emerging from the bay. They'll be engaged in surface action soon. "Launch your torpedoes and get ready to head out, I have a plan."
----
"Mutsu, I just got a message from Fubuki," Fusou says politely. "She has a plan… And I believe she's going to use the vanguard for it."
Mutsu shrugs, always keeping an eye on the bay. The moment she sees them, she'll open fire. That's how it will be. "Understood. If she can find volunteers, she can have them. I think I know the plan she has in mind."
"And... you're okay with it?"
"Of course. Nagato trusts her, and so do I."
----
"You're fucking crazy, Fubuki," Fletcher says breathlessly. "Really? Really?! In the middle of all this?!"
"Fubuki can do it!" Ushio asserts. "I… I believe in her!"
"We'll get it done," Asashio says, cracking her knuckles one by one. "It'll be just like Okinawa."
Agano turns to Sakawa and they nod to each other. "We'll be on station to provide support fire," Sakawa says. "Torpedo Squadron 2 is ready as well!"
Fletcher looks at her division mates. They've done hunter pack tactics before, and they've dealt with surface fleets before, but not on this scale and not in a pitched battle. It's frankly insane. How could Torpedo Squadron 3 do this on their own, or even at all? "Well… What do you girls think?"
"I'm up for it," Strong says with a shrug.
"Let's go for it," O'Bannon agrees.
"I'm happy to oblige," Nicholas says evenly.
Fletcher sighs and turns to her new friend. "Well, that settles it," she says to Fubuki. "When do we start?"
Fubuki smiles. "Right now."
----
"Tabulating windspeed, trajectory, bearing, rudder shift timing, target priority, displacement, draft, speed, and barrel wear…" West Virginia grunts to herself and punches the air. "Alright! Ready to engage!"
Colorado grins, and folds her arms. "Alright, let's kick ass and get it done! Time to show the world why we're still the Big Seven!"
"Mutsu, we're good to go!" Maryland adjusts her spectacles, looking at her peer. "Ready when you are!"
"As are we," Fusou and Yamashirou chime in, their heavy twelve-gun broadside primed for battle.
Mutsu nods. There's no mistaking it now. The decisive battle is here. The only thing that could make it better is if Nagato was here.
No matter. She'll just tell Nagato all about it when she gets home.
"Hold for the signal," Mutsu says. "Trust in the vanguard."
----
The mouth of the Bay is teeming with warships. Destroyers and cruisers, PT boats and battleships, and the carriers in the middle of the bay, untouchable for nature's barriers and the storm of aircraft overhead. It is full of mines floating just deep enough to give anything and anyone nearby a bad day, and there is enough coastal artillery to ensure that any shipgirl that so much as is slightly implied to exist near the mouth of the bay will be deleted from existence by their displacement in artillery.
As the girls of Torpedo Squadron 3 can attest.
Fubuki knew exactly what she was going into, and she didn't care much before. This is what she was made to do. Her existence as a destroyer was always going to be high-risk high-explosion. Her success as a warship in her second life all comes down to a dogged disregard for frayed nerves and anxiety in the face of certain death.
But as she hides behind the walls of the bay in a puff of smoke with the rest of her vanguard unit, catching her breath and checking in on everyone, she can't help but think of what happened earlier. Making the hardest turn she has ever turned, turning hard enough to make her hull scream and pop. All while dodging enough shells to make the seafood averse green in the face.
Fubuki can't help but regret the life choices that lead up to this point, because wow that was a lot of guns. There must have been dozens of shore batteries, and dozens more ships, and even more screaming that - wait that was from her and her fairies.
Oh wow when did she lose that turret.
Oh wow when did she lose that turret and half her anti-air battery.
"And you wanted to charge straight in, you bloodthirsty numpty," Asashio grumbles.
"Hehehe… Sorry…"
"We'd be right behind you all the same," Fletcher asserts. "Right, girls? Radford? Jenkins?"
"...Fletch, Rad and Jenkins didn't come along, remember?" Strong reminds her. "They're in overhaul. Same with Val'."
"...Oh, right."
Right. Okay. She needs to distract the topic. "Report, everyone!"
"I lost two torpedo tubes, poi!" Yuudachi cries. "My torpedoesssssssss!"
"Smoke launcher's damaged, won't be able to provide cover for the fleet!" Asashio states professionally. "Also my smokestacks have more holes in them."
"Big sis bumped against a sea mine!" Sakawa says loudly. "I think her rudder is jammed!"
"It's not jammed, Sakawa, I just turn a little bit less well! No worries, Agano is still good!"
"Please don't hit me please don't hit me please don't hit me…!" Ushio mutters loudly. And, assuming Fubuki's eyes still work, the Abyssals haven't hit her yet. How fortunate.
"Alright!" Fubuki nods. "DESRON 21, are you alright?"
"I'm good," Strong says coolly.
"All systems green," O'Bannon replies.
"I lost my radar!" Fletcher responds.
Everyone looks in her direction and are immediately rewarded. Fletcher's cat ears are missing from her head.
"S-Stoppit! We're in a battle right now!"
"Taylor here, still good."
"A shell bounced off my helmet and knocked it off," Nicholas says in her usual bored-but-not-bored fashion, sounding just like Hibiki does. Polite, calm, and emotionally dead.
"...Nic, is your--"
"Help me, Taylor."
Everyone looks in her direction now. True to form, her ship is fine. Her helmet, however, has flown off, and her hair is now free to flop around in the sea breeze. It's really nice and fluffy. Fubuki would like to touch it.
Alright, that's enough daydreaming. Back to fighting.
"Can everyone still fight?"
"Yep," Yuudachi, Asashio and Ushio say.
"Ayep!" Agano and Sakawa say.
"We're good!" Fletcher, Strong, O'Bannon and Taylor say.
"Help me," Nicholas says in muffled tones.
"Right." Fubuki claps her hands together. "Did everyone fire all their torpedoes?"
----
One moment, the bay is silent and still but for the moaning of shades and the calming crash of waves in a turbulent fleet action. Dark, foreboding, and trembling with the force of a hundred-ship navy, but silent and still nonetheless.
The next moment it violently explodes.
Huge towering plumes of flame are thrown up as torpedo after torpedo detonates inside their twisted abyssal hulls. They die, shrieking and screaming, an agonising symphony of jagged steel. Destroyer, cruiser, patrol boat, even their mighty battleships… No matter. None are proof against the fish of the sea. Not inside the cramped confines of the bay. Not when sea mines make maneuvering absolutely impossible.
Losses are relatively light, considering the number of torpedoes launched and the skill of the ships involved. Stories would arise that this salvo of eighty-something torpedoes that slew eight destroyers, three light cruisers, one heavy cruiser and two battleships would be the least successful torpedo launch of their careers, but that is neither here nor there.
What matters is the location of the Seaport Princess. And the sudden hole in her screen.
----
"Mutsu-san, we have the location of the Seaport Princess and her coastal batteries! Transmitting pictures, sketches, GPS coordinates and ideal targeting telemetry now!"
Mutsu frowns. "I get the coordinates and telemetry, Fubuki, but how are you going to send all the rest?"
The battleship feels a tug on her skirt, and looks down to find one of her fairies, presenting her laptop high above her head, the screen showing a skype chat between herself and Fubuki. Complete with maps, sketches, and pictures. Hand drawn, in some cases.
"I hope that got through! Internet's really bad here!"
"...You continue to impress, Fubuki," she laughs. "Alright, we'll take it from here! Keep an eye on the bay, Fubuki, I'll send reinforcements shortly."
"Understood! I'll do my best!"
Mutsu takes in a breath as the destroyer cuts the line. Looks like it's time to end this. "V Division, B Division, ready main artillery. Cruisers will hit the shore batteries, Battleships will kill the Princess."
"Gotcha!"
"On it!"
"K-Kumarinko… Will do her best!"
----
"Maaaaaaan," Yuudachi sighs, "I, like, wish I still had my torpedo tubes…"
"There there, Yuudachi," Ushio tries to say reassuringly. "Our job is done… I think? Right?"
"I hope so," Fubuki says. She looks up, at the air battle. From where she is, it looks like an angry mosaic. Maybe the planes are finally thinning out. "Well, here's to hoping."
"Nicholas, could you check on the shore artillery?"
"My hair is covering my eyes. I can't see very good, Fletcher."
"Put on your helmet, Nic."
"It fell off."
"What?"
"It fell off. I think I need a new one."
Fubuki starts to chuckle, but then she feels it. She hears it, too, but it is more like a feeling. Even buffeted by landmass, blunted by just how many abyssals and husks and space is between her and Manila proper, she can't help but feel the hammer blows in her chest. Each thundering crash like a jackhammer in her lungs, each flash of light like a warm candlelight.
She looks around, with sonar and radar, and she knows that everyone feels the same way. Like the hammer of god is beating them around, playing pool with them as cue balls. Beating against their chests like a skilled drummer, one after another like a rhythmic, unending drum solo.
And all of this while kilometers from shore, and while protected behind a landmass. She can only imagine what it feels like to be the target.
"...Could you take a look, Nicholas?" Fletcher asks again.
"Don't have to," Nicholas responds. "It's the same as it usually is."
"Like God is clapping with both hands at the biggest, brightest firework show on Earth," sighs Fletcher.
"...Nice vocabulary," O'Bannon says flatly.
"W-Well… I like books."
"It shows."
"...You like potatoes."
"And you used to have cat ears. But now, here we are."
"Dammit."
"There there, little sis…"
"Who's a little sis?!"
This time, Fubuki chuckles for real. She could have had all her turrets blown off, and today would still be a good day. "Alright, everyone, remember to stay sharp! We still have to keep the abyssal fleet inside the bay!"
"Got it!"
----
The Seaport Princess takes four hours to die. Four hours of ceaseless artillery, fired with pinpoint accuracy from over thirty kilometers away, as the remnants of her fleet are penned in by the rest of the fleet. In the end, her own minefield was her unmaking. She dies screaming, cursing the names of ships that don't care. She dies as testament to the Big Seven, in honor of the battle they were made to fight, but which never came to pass.
The battle ended several hours after that, concluding with Akebono beating a PT boat to death with another PT boat. Records differ on how exactly she did that, and eyewitness reports conflict on almost every detail. The JMSDF eventually files the incident under 'More Goddamn Bullshit Shipgirl Nonsense' and deletes the event from collective memory. None will speak of the time Akebono got horribly flustered and horribly violent in the middle of a battle, by order of the Admiral.
But the battle does end. And with the death of the Seaport Princess, the Philippines are free. They are human again. It will take time for USN elements to be redeployed to protect those waters again, and new agreements will have to be drafted between them and the JMSDF. But there is no doubting that the first offensive campaign in the Abyssal War has become a success. In time, perhaps the islands can even rebuild.
For the time being, however, the JMSDF Offensive Fleet has other things to worry about. Like irate Destroyers. And irate Battleships. And hungry hungry Carriers. And what happens when you have dozens of bored battle-hardened Destroyers sitting around with nothing to do and a lot of ordnance to play with.
God help us all.
----
"Uh… Fubuki-chan…"
"Hm?" Fubuki looks over at Yuudachi after setting down in port and disembarking from her ship body, as she stretches an arm over her head to straighten out her kinks. "What's wrong, Yuudachi?"
Her friend is a mess, all things considered. Her legs look burned and, frankly, kind of roughed up. Considering that her torpedo tubes were blown up, sympathetic damage was inevitable. They'll heal with time, as she gets repaired by her fairies and, if there's space, back in port. But for now Fubuki just rummages around for tape in her pockets.
She doesn't seem to notice her leg burns, though. Instead, Yuudachi just points at her. "W-Well… I mean… What happened to your… Your turret?"
"My turret?" Fubuki frowns, and tries to snap her fingers. She fails, because no sound comes out. "Right, one of my turrets got shot off! It's fine, I'll live."
"Well… I mean…"
"You're so indecisive," Asashio sighs. Her sympathetic wounds, in this case, is more having her vest torn in half, but she has a shirt underneath anyways so her modesty is protected. Thankfully, otherwise they'll never hear the end of it. "Fubuki, what happened to your hand?"
"My… Hand?" Fubuki pulls out her hand and waves at them. "It's fine, see?"
"The other hand."
Fubuki tries to wave with it too, but only just realises that her arm is missing.
Wait what her arm's missing?!
"Wait, what? WHAT?! WHAT?!"
"It happened again," Asashio sighs. "Good grief, you really should pay attention to yourself more often."
"It's like when Fubuki's bow caved in and she didn't realise," Yuudachi remarks with a smile.
"H-H-How did I lose an arm?! I just… I just lost one turret!" Fubuki, for her part, just flails her remaining arm around in shock. "It's just one turret! That's maybe a few fingers, a hand at worst!"
"Uhm… I mean…" Ushio shuffles into the conversation, untouched as usual. Instead, she just points at Fubuki's ship body, floating behind them.
The ship body missing a smoke stack, two torpedo tubes, and which has a huge hole in the side of the superstructure.
"...How did I miss that?!"
"Adrenaline, poi!"
"Sheer dogged stupidity under fire," Asashio sighs. "Well, that's what we're here for, right?"
"Oh man Shirayuki is going to be so mad don't tell her!"
"Uhm…" Ushio looks at her hands, clenching them together. "I mean… Sorry, Fubuki…"
Fubuki sniffs, and starts to shiver.
"H-Hey, it'll be okay," Yuudachi says. "It'll be, like, fine! Totally, completely fine! She'll, like, understand!"
"NO SHE WON'T AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"
----
"Owwwwwww," West Virginia pouts, as she digs in one of her ears with a pinkie. "That hurt…"
"Did you hear something?" Maryland asks.
"Didn't you?" Virginia responds.
Colorado ignores the two of them and just looks at the screen. On board the USS Colorado, the three of them - and a number of their escorts - are now trying to fiddle with gosh-darned technology and get a video call on. Eventually, two of Colorado's fairies manage it, and they jump in the air to do a mid-air high-five with each other. Colorado claps, and rubs her palms together. "Alrighty, alrighty… There! On screen, everyone!"
The projector lights up, and they make contact with USN High Command at last, starting with the stern, finger-tented visage of Fleet Admiral Harper, flanked by two of the greatest battleships ever made in history.
"Congrats on the job well done, girls," he says with a smile. His smile fades and he straightens up. "Report."
"No casualties," Maryland states with a nudge of her spectacles. "Just a little bedrest and we'll be good to go. Expect us home in a month or two."
"We have the Philippines again, everyone!" Colorado cheers. "Whoo whoo!"
One of the battleships with the Admiral leans forward, grinning widely, and only pausing to pull aside one of her bright blonde locks. "Nice work, girls! How was fighting again?"
"The train has no breaks!" Colorado cheers.
"I wanna do it again!" West Virginia cheers.
"It was pretty fun," Maryland begrudgingly admits.
"Oh, Mommyland, admit it! You love fighting with us!"
"For the last time Virginia stop calling me that I am your sister--"
"How're things going on your end, Iowa?" Colorado asks.
The battleship, wearing a t-shirt and a half-zipped hoodie over it, just smiles and gives a thumbs up. "All things great here, girls! Jersey's aching for another run on the big bitchface but don't sweat it, we can wait~"
"We can," Harper agrees. "But all the same, try to come back ASAP. They may launch a counterattack at any time."
Iowa laughs and wraps her arms around the Admiral in a big hug. "Aw, are you worried we can't handle it, Admiral? You're so sweet~ <3"
"I still have no idea how you do that," Harper sighs.
"Oh, you just need a showboat's soul, Admiral!" The other battleship with the Admiral leans forward to right beside his ear, her long platinum blonde hair licking against his shoulder, and knowingly glances and winks at the camera with one of her blue star-symboled eyes. "Right, everyone~~? >:3"
"How do YOU do it."
"Showboat secrets~ <3"
"Oh my god."
O'Bannon steps forward right in front of Colorado's laptop, dragging Nicholas along, and waves. "Hi, Wisky."
"Oh, oh! Bannie! Nicky!" USS Wisconsin picks the Admiral's laptop up and lifts it up, letting her face - and bits of her showy vest/corset outfit - dominate the screen. "How're my sister's fluffy little escorts doing?"
"Nicholas lost her helmet, but it's okay." O'Bannon lets the corners of her mouth curl up slightly. Nicholas puts her hands on her helmet and shakes her head. "I met some potatoes. They were nice."
"Oh I bet they were, Bannie!"
"Wisconsin give me my laptop back," Harper says in the background.
"Aw, Admiral, let her have some fun with our cute destroyers!" Iowa laughs.
"Is Mo there?" Nicholas asks.
"She's on patrol right now," Wisconsin tells her. Her eyes widen and she smiles brightly. "Oh oh! Do you want me to call her for you? I can make this a conference call!"
"It's fine," Nicholas tells her. "Tell her we said hi."
"Sure sure! You girls be good, y'hear?" She looks over her shoulder and giggles. "Oh, sorry, gotta go! Admiral's getting rowdy!"
"I'm not rowdy I'm still at my desk."
"O~oooh, fiesty! You think you could handle me, Ad-mi-raaaaaal~? >:3"
"Stop that."
"Hehehe, alrighty~"
"Well, anyways!" Iowa pops into view, right over her sister's shoulder. Wisconsin giggles and bumps heads with her. "Fun and games aside! Maryland?"
"Aye!"
"Pick a patrol detail, they'll be watching the Philippines for now. The rest of you pack up and get home ASAP, alright?"
The Destroyers gathered in the room groan and moan. But there's not much they can do when the Flagship of the USN tells them what to do, right? Not when she's using her official voice. And Ms. Iowa is definitely using her official voice right now.
"I know I know it's sad," Iowa nods sympathetically. "Buuuu~uuuuut I know a bunch of good girls who are going to have a bunch of backpay and time off soon! Whaddya say?"
The Destroyers start cheering. "You're the best!" some of the Fletchers say.
"We share," Wisky adds with a wink.
"Well, I'll leave you girls to it." Iowa nods and does a quick salute. Wisky, lacking hands, just nods. "Good work, girls. Come back soon, we'll throw a party!"
"Gotcha," Maryland nods. "See you soonish, Iowa."
The call ends, and Maryland turns and claps her hands. It's time for her to do Flagship things, isn't it?
"Alright, girls," she starts, and rubs her palms together. "Who wants to stay behind and look after what we took back?"
----
"I wasn't finished," Admiral Harper sighs as Wisconsin sets his laptop back down before him, sticking her tongue out cheekily.
Iowa nods and sits down beside him, arms crossed. "I know you weren't, but that can wait," she says with a smile. "They just won a fight, right? We can give them tonight, at least."
"I know," Harper sighs. "I don't like telling them this much, either."
"Then don't," Wisky says nonchalantly. "The Aleutian Islands are a drag anyways."
"They're okay," Iowa shrugs.
The Admiral shakes his head. "No, no, Wisky's right, they suck. But it's our job to make it suck less."
He exhales, and looks up at one of the maps on the wall. The one centered on the islands west of Alaska, crawling with arrows and little icons.
"We've failed to kill that Abyssal three times already," he says ruefully. "It can't be helped. We need their support."
Iowa shrugs and grins. "Then let's get it! I'm fine with it, Wisky's fine with it, Mo will be fine with it, and I know Jersey'll love having air support again!"
"Jer won't like japanese air support though," Wisky reminds her.
"Eh," Iowa sighs. "If she's that bothered I can paint stars in her eyes, so everything looks more american."
"Hey!" Wisky points at her dramatically. "Stars are my thing!"
"Fine fine. Stripes?"
Wisconsin pauses. "Slightly better. We'll talk about it."
"You can talk about it outside my office," Harper says dryly.
"Aw, but you have a minibar!"
"It's my minibar."
Wisky sticks her tongue out. "Aw, spoilsport~ >:3"
"And you stop that."
----
"He's right there, you know?"
"I know, I know, stop reminding me…"
"Then go forth! With all your spirit!"
"B-But I can't, he's… He's talking to someone…"
Hiei huffs and scowls at her glorious big sister's nervousness, and looks in the direction of the Admiral and the Minister of Defense, currently talking and laughing and drinking all the wine. Disgraceful. They're both drunk, and while she can't say anything about the Minister, the Admiral is supposed to be responsible for them. How can a man be responsible when his blood is mostly wine?
"You should talk to him!" Haruna says encouragingly, holding her fists close to her chest. "Haruna… Haruna believes in you!"
"There's only a 3% chance that the Admiral brushes you off when talking to Minister Naoto," Kirishima tells her. "You're one of the Admiral's favourite battleships, you'll definitely get to talk to him."
Nagato clears her throat, and is met with three sets of glares. She smiles politely at them, and lets the annoyance slake off like rainwater. "The Secretary of the Navy just joined the party," she whispers to them.
"What?!" Kongou turns, and finds a third old man joining the Admiral and the Minister of Defense's conversation. The three of them share greetings, one of them says something, and all three of them laugh loudly and partake in man hugs.
"...24% chance the Admiral brushes you off," Kirishima mutters.
"Kirishima!" Haruna chides.
"I have to be honest. Forgive me, big sis!"
"Hieiiiiiiiiiiiii…"
She wilts, and slinks down further against the wall. "M-Maybe I should just wait for the Commander, dess… He could get me in."
"The Commander's not coming for at least an hour," Nagato says casually to them. "He has work to do, I believe."
"While we're celebrating?" Kirishima asks, only half-offended.
Nagato snickers. "The Commander seems to hate fun, remember?"
"Oh, right." Hiei grunts, and then she claps her hands. "Oh, big sis! Maybe we could go together, and show the Admiral your new dress!"
"W-What?! But I'm wearing my normal clothes!"
"No… No, that's genius, Hiei!" Kirishima pumps her fists and the two sisters partake in high-fives. "I have scissors, we can alter the outfit on the fly!"
"W-Wait, just--"
"Haruna brought trimmings!" Haruna says cheerfully, and presents all manner of gold and silver decorative trim, dangling between her fingers.
"N-No, that's not… I'm still wearing--"
"Hmhm, do not fret, big sis, for I have been mastering the art of the scissors and thread!" Kirishima produces a spool and a large pair of scissors, snipping them menacingly. "Stay still, and you will be ready for the Admiral!"
"We shall show him the power of the Kongou Class' spirit!" Hiei cheers.
"Makeover!" Haruna cries.
"N-No! No no no!" Flustered, blushing bright read, Kongou falls over on the cake table and only just manages to avoid touching the food. "This isn't right, dess! It's not the time and the place for anything!"
"On the contrary, big sis, now is the time and the place for everything!" Her glasses hit the light just right, and are completely opaque. "Stand still and think of the Admiral!"
"NOOOOOO!" Kongou whirls around, holding a cake over her head. "NOOOOOOOOOO!" She throws it at Kirishima out of sheer flustered instinct, hoping desperately to end this torment. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Kirishima, being a fast battleship intimately aware of Kongou's fighting style, dodges it easily. And so the large three-layered cake sails through the air at breakneck speed… Right at the Admiral, Minister and Secretary.
It's like time stood still for the four of them. But try as they might, they cannot intercept it in time.
Kongou covers her mouth, and says goodbye to burning love. Dess.
The cake makes contact, and splatters all over the Admiral's face.
"W-What?!" Kirishima exclaims.
"H-Hiei?!" Hiei screams.
"DESS?!" Kongou cries out.
His expression is even and neutral, betraying no pain or shame or emotion at all. The Minister and Secretary blink in surprise behind him, shocked to find themselves completely uncaked.
"Sorry about that, it seems that the table tripped and fell over." The Admiral pauses, and scoops up some cake with a finger to put in his mouth. "And flew all the way over to us in the center of the room."
"Your tables need to be shorter," the Secretary observes.
"I'm sure we can cut that budget a bit," Minister Naoto jokes.
"Do not," the Admiral responds.
Kongou falls to her knees, a shivering mess. The Admiral must hate her now. She wasn't around to deal with the Philippines because she needed repairs and requested a quick return. She didn't rejoin the surface fleet in time because she wanted to know the Admiral better. And now she just threw cake at his face. Oh. Oh no he must really really really really really hate her now. Oh no. Oh noooooo.
"I-I'm sorry," she says, half-blubbering for the tears in her eyes, on her hands and knees before the Admiral. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"
Admiral Takamichi says nothing. He just kneels down before her, his face still covered in cake.
"Don't blame our sister, Admiral! I-It's our fault!"
"There was too much spirit! Big sis always told me things would go wrong with too much spirit!"
"H-Haruna… will be okay…!"
The Admiral sighs, and puts a hand on Kongou's head. She looks up with big, wide tear-filled eyes.
"D-Dess…?"
"Dear me," he sighs. "Dear, dear me. I seem to have made one of my precious battleships cry."
"...Dess?"
"It's okay, I don't hate you." He pulls her up and drags her into a hug. "I won't hate you. I won't."
"R...R-Really? Never?"
"Never." He pats her head again. "Because Kongou is a good girl."
"D...Dess…"
And so the party continued, and it was all the livelier. Which would prove to be a problem for Lt. Commander Konoe when he arrived later. Which might involve alcoholism, irresponsibility, and gratuitous posing.
But that's a story for another time.
----
2026, March
Philippines Campaign - COMPLETE
Philippines Campaign - COMPLETE
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
Truer words have never been spoken.
- Location
- In the depts of despair.
Except when she wants her admiral to tell her she is a bad girl who needs to be punished...
Whiskey Golf
Being of Editing & Technical Assistance
- Location
- Chained to my desk
Jesus christ buki self preservation do you have it or not?! 
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
That's only for the bedroom tho
Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Not when it gets in the way of Doing Her Best!Jesus christ buki self preservation do you have it or not?!
- Location
- Void of Observation
>7.3K words
T H A N K S S W O R D O
T H A N K S S W O R D O
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
Good thing he's drunk!
- Location
- Singapore
She'll try it and then she'll break down and cry when the Admiral calls her a bad girl because that means the Admiral haaaaaaates her, and won't keep his eyes on her.
Kyte
Never quacked for this
Fubuki has a prestige class that lets her invoke berserk rage without the actual rage part.Jesus christ buki self preservation do you have it or not?!
12: Just Chatting
- Location
- Singapore
2026, April
"...And that's the gist of the entire Philippines Campaign, from start to finish," the Admiral concludes. He cracks his knuckles and sighs contentedly, before flipping open the monitor to his laptop and typing away. He glances up at the Lt. Commander, waiting expectantly. "What, did you want a cookie?"
The Lt. Commander looks flatly at him.
"I probably have one around here somewhere, if you really want it."
"No," Commander Konoe tells him. "And that was for the story. First off, why did the campaign even start again?"
"So that we could have a proper victory against the Abyssals, instead of just kicking them off our shores."
"Right. Meanwhile there are actual problems elsewhere in the world." The Commander pulls a book off the Admiral's desk and flips through it, pointing to a specific page. "For instance, the Aleutian Islands." He flips through them again. "Or that thing at Scapa Flow." More flipping. "And then whatever-the-fuck is happening at Malta."
The Admiral looks at him. "Your point?"
"Couldn't we have gotten more done by resolving one of those issues first? Instead of going to the Philippines and opening a whole new theatre? I mean," Konoe says, "Don't get me wrong, I like that we've won, but you'd think it would be more efficient to just deal with one of our current issues."
"You'd think so," the Admiral says evenly. He leans forward, hands clasped. "You'd think so. But no, not really."
"What, couldn't even move on Hawaii?"
"What the fuck do you think we are, the IJN?" The Admiral shakes his head and returns to his work. "Besides, the USN has dibs on Hawaii. We're not cockblocking the USN. That's just rude."
"And the Aleutian Islands? Scapa Flow? Malta?"
"Those are on the planner somewhere," the Admiral responds casually. "The USN had dibs on the Aleutians too, and only just asked for our help. Scapa Flow was supposed to be for the returned Deutsche Marine and the Royal Navy, but nobody knows where they went. And the French and Italians have dibs on Malta."
"...Do we have dibs on anywhere?" Lt. Commander Konoe asks.
"We had the Philippines," the Admiral tells him with a sigh.
"No we didn't, the USN came in to help for the last fight." Konoe shakes his head and folds his arms. "What, do we have Southeast Asia?"
The Admiral laughs. He takes a sip of his drink, purposefully swallows it, and keeps laughing. He turns to Ooyodo beside him, still pointing at Konoe, and is still laughing. Ooyodo, for her part, shrugs and continues eating her baked sweet potato.
"You want us to have dibs on Singapore," the Admiral laughs. "Singapore. Fucking Singapore."
"What? What's at Singapore?"
The Admiral immediately stops laughing and stares at Konoe, stone-faced. "Hell."
"...Why?"
"The Singapore Seaport Princess is the size of the entire island and is guarded by a fleet ten times the size of the one in Manila Bay," Ooyodo responds professionally to him, as she reaches for another sweet potato. "It is defended by many battleships, carriers, and screen vessels, including variants that we have not profiled yet. And it has an air wing that dwarfs our own by several orders of magnitude. The Admiral is hoping to propose her redesignation at the upcoming Warfare Evolution Conference, but that won't be for a while." She adjusts her glasses. "Any questions?"
Konoe shakes his head. "No, but that does lead into my next point. Thank you, Ooyodo."
She nods and peels her potato. "A pleasure, Lt. Commander."
He turns and points at the Admiral. "Anyways! You talked about the Battle of Manila Bay like it was this huge climactic battle! A hundred ship navy! Reinforcements from the USN! The decisive battle that was never fought in World War 2!"
"And?"
"And nothing it was literally shooting fish in a barrel. Literally."
The Admiral looks flatly at him. "I don't follow."
"Alright, let's go over it in sequence." The Lt. Commander raises his index finger. "Firstly, the vanguard elements detect the Abyssal air force." He raises his second finger. "Secondly, the Cruisers made their air defense against the massive air force, holding them off long enough for the 1st and 2nd Carrier Divisions to arrive and intercept them." He raises his ring finger. "Thirdly, the vanguard destroyers launch a spread of torpedoes into the bay, coralling the Abysslas inside the bay and also identifying the position of the Seaport Princess and her land batteries." He raises his pinky, last but not least. "Fourth, B and V Division bomb everything to fucking dust over several hours."
"Still not seeing the problem," the Admiral says, voice still flat.
"I was expecting a massive surface engagement. Cruisers and Battleships forming dense gun lines, exchanging heavy fire with one another. Destroyer packs cutting through the battle in hunter wolfpacks, punishing anyone who was out of position. Drama. Excitement. Success by the skin of their teeth!" Konoe falls back against his seat and sighs. "And instead the Abyssals sit in a hole and die."
"Right. I think I see the problem." The Admiral stands up, leans over his table, and tips the Commander's chair over. He falls loudly on his back, limbs flailing, and shoots back onto his feet, completely irate. "You wanted something flashy and cool, and possibly some character death."
"I was expecting someone to die," Konoe corrects. "It's nice that they all lived, but literally only Fubuki got a flesh wound."
"She's a clumsy girl," the Admiral sighs.
"She has ten battleship kills."
"She's clumsy all the same." The Admiral folds his arms and shakes his head. "Commander, frankly, I don't care for pomp and flash. If that battle took place on the high seas we would have Abyssals escaping with the death of the Princess and a constant headache for months. We have enough problems protecting civilian shipping as is, so I'm glad it was 'fucking shooting fish in a barrel'. You want excitement? Go watch anime."
The Commander huffs. "I will! And it will be shit! But excitingly so!"
"Good! Drown in your waifus and die!"
The Commander shudders. "Too far."
"You're right, I'm sorry. That was too far." The Admiral rifles through his drawers and pulls out a crumbling pile of dust in a plastic packet. "Cookie?"
"...Sure."
"...And that's the gist of the entire Philippines Campaign, from start to finish," the Admiral concludes. He cracks his knuckles and sighs contentedly, before flipping open the monitor to his laptop and typing away. He glances up at the Lt. Commander, waiting expectantly. "What, did you want a cookie?"
The Lt. Commander looks flatly at him.
"I probably have one around here somewhere, if you really want it."
"No," Commander Konoe tells him. "And that was for the story. First off, why did the campaign even start again?"
"So that we could have a proper victory against the Abyssals, instead of just kicking them off our shores."
"Right. Meanwhile there are actual problems elsewhere in the world." The Commander pulls a book off the Admiral's desk and flips through it, pointing to a specific page. "For instance, the Aleutian Islands." He flips through them again. "Or that thing at Scapa Flow." More flipping. "And then whatever-the-fuck is happening at Malta."
The Admiral looks at him. "Your point?"
"Couldn't we have gotten more done by resolving one of those issues first? Instead of going to the Philippines and opening a whole new theatre? I mean," Konoe says, "Don't get me wrong, I like that we've won, but you'd think it would be more efficient to just deal with one of our current issues."
"You'd think so," the Admiral says evenly. He leans forward, hands clasped. "You'd think so. But no, not really."
"What, couldn't even move on Hawaii?"
"What the fuck do you think we are, the IJN?" The Admiral shakes his head and returns to his work. "Besides, the USN has dibs on Hawaii. We're not cockblocking the USN. That's just rude."
"And the Aleutian Islands? Scapa Flow? Malta?"
"Those are on the planner somewhere," the Admiral responds casually. "The USN had dibs on the Aleutians too, and only just asked for our help. Scapa Flow was supposed to be for the returned Deutsche Marine and the Royal Navy, but nobody knows where they went. And the French and Italians have dibs on Malta."
"...Do we have dibs on anywhere?" Lt. Commander Konoe asks.
"We had the Philippines," the Admiral tells him with a sigh.
"No we didn't, the USN came in to help for the last fight." Konoe shakes his head and folds his arms. "What, do we have Southeast Asia?"
The Admiral laughs. He takes a sip of his drink, purposefully swallows it, and keeps laughing. He turns to Ooyodo beside him, still pointing at Konoe, and is still laughing. Ooyodo, for her part, shrugs and continues eating her baked sweet potato.
"You want us to have dibs on Singapore," the Admiral laughs. "Singapore. Fucking Singapore."
"What? What's at Singapore?"
The Admiral immediately stops laughing and stares at Konoe, stone-faced. "Hell."
"...Why?"
"The Singapore Seaport Princess is the size of the entire island and is guarded by a fleet ten times the size of the one in Manila Bay," Ooyodo responds professionally to him, as she reaches for another sweet potato. "It is defended by many battleships, carriers, and screen vessels, including variants that we have not profiled yet. And it has an air wing that dwarfs our own by several orders of magnitude. The Admiral is hoping to propose her redesignation at the upcoming Warfare Evolution Conference, but that won't be for a while." She adjusts her glasses. "Any questions?"
Konoe shakes his head. "No, but that does lead into my next point. Thank you, Ooyodo."
She nods and peels her potato. "A pleasure, Lt. Commander."
He turns and points at the Admiral. "Anyways! You talked about the Battle of Manila Bay like it was this huge climactic battle! A hundred ship navy! Reinforcements from the USN! The decisive battle that was never fought in World War 2!"
"And?"
"And nothing it was literally shooting fish in a barrel. Literally."
The Admiral looks flatly at him. "I don't follow."
"Alright, let's go over it in sequence." The Lt. Commander raises his index finger. "Firstly, the vanguard elements detect the Abyssal air force." He raises his second finger. "Secondly, the Cruisers made their air defense against the massive air force, holding them off long enough for the 1st and 2nd Carrier Divisions to arrive and intercept them." He raises his ring finger. "Thirdly, the vanguard destroyers launch a spread of torpedoes into the bay, coralling the Abysslas inside the bay and also identifying the position of the Seaport Princess and her land batteries." He raises his pinky, last but not least. "Fourth, B and V Division bomb everything to fucking dust over several hours."
"Still not seeing the problem," the Admiral says, voice still flat.
"I was expecting a massive surface engagement. Cruisers and Battleships forming dense gun lines, exchanging heavy fire with one another. Destroyer packs cutting through the battle in hunter wolfpacks, punishing anyone who was out of position. Drama. Excitement. Success by the skin of their teeth!" Konoe falls back against his seat and sighs. "And instead the Abyssals sit in a hole and die."
"Right. I think I see the problem." The Admiral stands up, leans over his table, and tips the Commander's chair over. He falls loudly on his back, limbs flailing, and shoots back onto his feet, completely irate. "You wanted something flashy and cool, and possibly some character death."
"I was expecting someone to die," Konoe corrects. "It's nice that they all lived, but literally only Fubuki got a flesh wound."
"She's a clumsy girl," the Admiral sighs.
"She has ten battleship kills."
"She's clumsy all the same." The Admiral folds his arms and shakes his head. "Commander, frankly, I don't care for pomp and flash. If that battle took place on the high seas we would have Abyssals escaping with the death of the Princess and a constant headache for months. We have enough problems protecting civilian shipping as is, so I'm glad it was 'fucking shooting fish in a barrel'. You want excitement? Go watch anime."
The Commander huffs. "I will! And it will be shit! But excitingly so!"
"Good! Drown in your waifus and die!"
The Commander shudders. "Too far."
"You're right, I'm sorry. That was too far." The Admiral rifles through his drawers and pulls out a crumbling pile of dust in a plastic packet. "Cookie?"
"...Sure."