- Location
- Void of Observation
Vignettes From The Naval District (Kancolle)
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
"By the way..."
"Sir?"
"Your Waifu is SHIT! SHHIIIIIIIIIIIIITTT!"
- Location
- Singapore
"How dare you." *slaps Admiral with his glove* "I challenge you to a duel! DDs at dawn!"
13: Die Hard With A Conference
- Location
- Singapore
"I see you found my letter."
"I think it proves everything."
"I think you have a lot to learn."
"BURNING LOOOOOVE!"
----
2026, April
"Harper."
"Taka."
That day, in that conference room, the fates of many would be decided by one confrontation between two men. Dozens looked on, sweat pouring on their brow, as Admiral Takamichi of the JMSDF sat opposite of Fleet Admiral Harper, of the USN.They leaned over their tables, hands clasped before them, silent but for the murmuring of their hangers-on. Fortunes lived and died by their words. And they would live and die by this confrontation.
When the Abyssals were finally recognised as a global threat in 2025, not a false flag operation, bioweapon or coordinated terrorist strike, the navies of the world saw that they had to work together. They had to pool their resources, coordinate their best and brightest, and see to it that even the slightest advantage could be exploited for everything it was worth.
Harper blinks, and covers his face with a sigh.
This is not that conference.
Beneath his clasped hands, Admiral Takamichi smirks. "Four-Zero Taka."
"Get fucking burnt, asshole."
The two men laugh as they stand up and shake hands, making small talk as was customary between rounds. Each man's respective entourages cheered or swore, and money was exchanged amongst them. Fortune lived and died by their hands. And as the old saying went, 'Always bet on Takamichi'.
"How the fuck do you do this? Do your eyes not burn?"
"Oh, they burn," Takamichi admits. "But my heart burns hotter."
"Oh, get burnt."
"Are you deaf or are you stupid? I just told you my heart burns hotter."
"Oh, shut the fuck up you asshole, I want a rematch!"
Beside them, standing dutifully by the table, two women look on with very different expressions. The one by Admiral Takamichi is a tall beauty dressed in the traditional garb of an archer, her expression impassive and her build betraying her history as a Battleship. The other is shorter, but not by much, and wears the (relatively) sleeker frame of a Heavy Cruiser. She adjusts her glasses as she considers her words, before finally leaning towards her counterpart.
"This is normal," Kaga responds blandly, before the american warship even opens her mouth. "The Warfare Evolution Conference has always been, and will always be, an excuse for them to have staring contests."
The Heavy Cruiser Chicago looks at her, one of Japan's legendary Kidou Butai, and swallows. "B-But we're supposed to get together and discuss developments in the war! Update the global status of the allied front! T-Talk about new Abyssals!"
"If it helps, it's not just them." Kaga looks out beyond their table, and sweeps the entire conference room, full of naval officials and national figures having staring contests, funnily enough, as far as the eye can see. Even France and Italy, present over teleconference, are having staring contests over teleconference.
"But… Why staring contests?"
Kaga, in her usual noncommittal manner, shrugs. Chicago looks at her, making sure to adjust the hem of her skirt again - dammit stupid uniform - and eventually sighs in defeat.
"I give up…"
"It's gotten better," Kaga explains in a vaguely comforting fashion. "They used to last for hours."
"...How?"
Kaga shrugs again, and then turns to face her. Chicago, feeling self-conscious, turns to face her as well. "We could have a staring contest if you want," the carrier offers.
"U-Uhm… Okay…"
Chicago clenches her fists, closes her eyes hard, and then concentrates all of herself onto keeping them open. Kaga responds in kind, her gaze unyielding, half-lidded, and even slightly bored. As expected of a converted battleship, and an illustrious carrier at that. But Chicago will not lose!
"Alright, begin."
"Y-Yes!"
----
"Wisky down."
"Hissssssss."
It's not everyday that you see a grown woman sitting on all fours atop a signpost, least of all a blonde bombshell who hardly looks a day over twenty.
"Wisky, come on, this isn't funny! Wisky, down!"
"Hisssssssssssssssssss."
Well, actually, it depends on the country. It's a pretty regular occurrence in San Diego. Especially if you wander near the naval base there often. Because the girls there really like climbing on top of signposts like big cats. From girls as small and cuddly as the Bensons to the girls as big and still-cuddly as the Iowas. Which makes for some surreal imagery.
Like a grown woman with stars in her eyes wearing a cleavage-baring outfit designed for pinups climbing up to the top of a signpost, while another blonde tries to get her down. Like a cat.
"Come on, Wisky! You'll get hurt up there! People will see!"
"LET THEM SEE!" Battleship Wisconsin wails, arms flailing briefly over her head before she brings them down and hugs the signpost for dear life. "LET THEM SEE WHAT I'VE BECOOOOOOOOOOME!"
"Wisky, come on! We have sorties to run!"
"I WANTED TO GO TO BERLI-HIHIHIIIIIIN!"
Iowa sighs and wipes the sweat off her head, using her other hand to fan her t-shirt. Another girl walks up beside her, similarly statuesque but short-haired and black-haired instead of long and blonde like her sisters. "I give up. Jay, got any ideas?"
BB-62, USS New Jersey, nods, lifts her aviators with one hand, and lifts a chainsaw with the other.
"...Jersey, we want to keep the signboard."
Jersey scoffs, and lowers her sunglasses. "You never let me have fun."
"Hisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss."
"You stay out of this, you titty monster!"
Iowa sighs and clutches her head. "Oh sweet Roosevelt…"
----
"...Eyes up, Chicago."
"S-Sorry!"
Kaga sighs and shakes her head, her eyes still open, her stare unwavering. "We can start over. When you are ready, Chicago."
Chicago puts her hands on her chest, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Peaceful thoughts, Chicago, peaceful thoughts. This is a safe place, with friends. She can just start over, and pass the time at the Warfare Evolution Conference, while her Admiral has eye power contests with another Admiral.
She hears clinking noises, and opens her eyes to see a metal cylinder at her feet. In the moments it takes her to recognise the flashbang, Admiral Harper has already flipped the table and Kaga has already pulled her behind it. It explodes into a bright flash, tinnitus keening briefly in her ears. Around her, staff officers and attendants fall to the ground, covering their ears and moaning.
Chicago looks around, shocked and betrayed, when she feels her Admiral cup her face and pull her to face him. He looks at her, eyes hard and his orders loud and clear. 'Stay behind cover, don't do anything brash.'
The Heavy Cruiser looks to her side, and finds Kaga nodding to her Admiral as well. The shipgirls sit together, Chicago with her legs folded, Kaga in traditional seiza, as the doors burst open and men in uniform charge in with weapons shouldered.
Men in Bundeswehr uniform.
"Ladies and gentlemen, people of all ages," a man says loudly in accented english, and his fellow soldiers point their weapons at the crowd, "Today, you will be our hostages!"
Her eyes widen and her heart sinks. This isn't a safe place at all.
----
"...God fucking dammit," the Admiral mutters loudly. "This is the fifth time."
"Indeed," Kaga says dutifully by his side, hands on her lap and fingers drumming her bow. "Shall I get to work?"
"Quietly, let the Americans draw their attention."
"Understood."
----
"Belay that, Chicago," Admiral Harper whispers to her. "Deal with them."
Chicago nods and salutes her Admiral quickly. "Sir!" She takes off her blazer and upends it, shaking it vigorously as various gun parts tumble out. She assembles them quickly, and soon has a Thompson Submachine Gun in hand. "Permission to proceed, Admiral."
Harper takes off his cap and passes her one of the flashbangs hidden under it. "Give them hell."
Chicago takes it, hurls it over the table, and leaps over it. Three seconds later, the flashbang explodes, and she opens fire.
----
Something explodes.
"Nevermind. Don't let the Americans get all the attention."
"Understood." Kaga stands up, nocks her bow, and shoots a guard in the chest. She steps calmly over the table barrier, and continues shooting people in an impassive, robotic fashion.
Takamichi lets out a breath and pulls out his phone, all the while glaring at Harper.
"What?"
"You hide flashbangs in your cap? Really?"
"Like you wouldn't."
"I really didn't. And a Thompson? Really?"
"It's her typewriter." Harper frowns and leans over. "And what are you doing? Calling for help?"
"We might need it," Takamichi responds. "If the base is compromised, we will need heavy firepower."
"We have a carrier and a heavy cruiser."
"Yeah, and the Heer has like a hundred tanks on site."
"Point."
Two men join them soon enough, crawling under the firefight happening over their heads. Takamichi and Harper look over at them and nod.
"Keyes. Ruge," they both say.
"Harper. Takamichi," the Vice Admirals of the Royal Navy and German Navy respond in kind. They sit together behind the table as Harper digs into his pockets and starts passing out cigars. He offers one to Takamichi, still typing away on his phone, and the Japanese Admiral refuses it. Takamichi does offer a lighter, though, and two Vice Admirals and a Fleet Admiral start sharing a smoke together.
"You know that causes cancer, right?" Takamichi says with a scowl.
"Yeah, but we're already friends with you chaps," Vice Admiral Keyes responds.
"You assholes and your anthropomorphic navies full of attractive girls," Vice Admiral Ruge laments.
Takamichi and Harper shrug, and they continue sitting together. Admiral Takamichi finally finishes his message and pockets his smartphone, while something else in the room explodes. A Bundeswehr soldier flies over them and crumples before them in a heap, all four Admirals looking at him.
"Should we go somewhere else?" Takamichi asks.
"I think the fight is coming here," Harper says, peeking over the table.
"The Conference Table is mostly safe," Ruge says. "We could crawl there."
"I wore my dress whites to crawl?" Keyes frowns. "Ugh. How barbaric."
"Which cleans better, the dust or the blood?"
"...Conference table it is." Keyes wears is cap and goes on all fours. "Come on, lads, this way."
"It's my conference room," Ruge mutters, and the four Admirals scurry off.
----
When the rogue members of the Bundeswehr attempted to hijack the conference, they expected that two or three squads would be sufficient. Although the conference had over a hundred representatives, none of them were armed, and they had the home ground advantage. Any attempt to resist would be met with overwhelming odds.
But as the old adage, when an Unstoppable Force meets an Immoveable Object…
Well, in this case, they met the shipgirls. And they rapidly saw the need for reinforcements.
Chicago was like the storm, always moving, always shooting. Her shots were unerring and unrelenting, devastating well-placed firepower meant for pinpoint destruction. Though her orders were not to kill - these were still Bundeswehr soldiers after all, their allies - she was under no compunctions to hold back otherwise.
And despite being packed into a small, fairly plush and hippy form by the circumstances of materialising as a shipgirl, Chicago was still a Baltimore-Class Heavy Cruiser. She still had the horsepower. She still had the speed. And she still had the artillery. All of it, now compressed into a smaller, more mobile package.
So she ran. Along walls, over furniture, through soldiers, none of it was impossible. So she shot. Through cover, through soldiers (non-lethally of course the Admiral would be mad otherwise), and with barely seconds between magazines. And all as bullets whistled past her ears, worthless against american steel.
She was the ocean, furious and swift, with strength enough to sink mighty battleships. The Unstoppable Force.
But where Chicago was the ocean, Kaga was the mountain. For she moved no faster than a brisk walk, but where she looked the world was filled with arrows. Her hands blurred, and she fired faster than any human could. But her shots were unerring in their accuracy, and her body was immune to their bullets.
She was the mountain, enduring and eternal, uncaring of speed for it would outlast all civilisation. The Immoveable Object.
And so, the attempted hijacking of the Warfare Evolution Conference continued to be foiled, by the efforts of two girls who were once warships.
And the navies of the world watched with envy. Because their ships weren't back yet.
----
"Oh, fuck all kinds of duck," Vice Admiral Keyes of the Royal Navy says as he hides under the conference table, while a furious firefight - more or less - rages above him, "We should have gotten the Kongou."
"Hey, you sold her to the Japanese," Vice Admiral Ruge of the German Navy grumbles next to him. "We have the Prinz Eugen, but the US won't give her back. Because they're a bunch of greedy assholes."
"Hey, fuck you," Admiral Harper of the United States Navy says next to them. "We won her, fair and square."
"Yeah, and then you nuked her."
"...Look, it was after the war--"
"Twice."
"...We're still keeping her."
"And that about sums up geopolitics, doesn't it?" Admiral Keyes sighs. "Disgraceful. And it's almost tea time."
Harper and Takamichi exchange looks. Admiral Takamichi sighs, takes off his cap, and starts passing out the biscuits he had hidden under his hat.
"...This almost makes up for the rude shock," Keyes says with a smile.
"And you give me shit about flashbangs," Harper quips.
"Biscuits are better than flashbangs. Could you feed a family flashbangs?"
"...Yes? I mean they wouldn't like it, but…"
"...Well okay then."
----
Within minutes the conference room was secure again, the attempted hijackers subdued and full of arrows or bruises, because Kaga is merciless and Chicago really likes guns. Kaga looks on impassively as Admiral Takamichi thanks her for her service, while Admiral Harper holds Chicago back from apologising to every Bundeswehr soldier she shot.
"The question, though, is why these men tried to hijack the WEC," Keyes surmises.
"...The representatives of almost every navy in the world are in this room. Including the heads of the JMSDF and the USN." Ruge frowns and cups his chin. "Actually, why are you two here?"
"Staring contest," both of them reply immediately.
"Ah," every officer in the room says, nodding sagely. Chicago looks at Kaga in shock, but the Carrier simply looks back impassively and shrugs.
"Hours, Chicago," she says simply. "Hours."
"B-But… How?"
"I shall settle this matter personally, ladies and gentlemen," Vice Admiral Ruge promises. "These men will be brought to justice, and their backers exposed as the traitors they are. For now, the conference can continue tomorrow. For tonight, just return to your hotels and rest."
And so the first day of the Warfare Evolution Conference ends, and nothing of value was gained. Only lots of shipgirl envy. And smug levels, if you were American. Or Japanese.
----
The conference was ultimately productive, however. Information was shared. Doctrines were refined. Dossiers updated. And condolences and support expressed for the many battles fought all over the world.
After the Conference, though, under the cover of night, the men of the Bundeswehr have another meeting.
"...Admiral Ruge, why didn't you hold the three of them hostage?"
"Because shut up. I forgot my gun."
"Admiral, the men are getting upset! When will we get Prinz Eugen back?!"
"Soon, my brothers, soon. With this, I have gained some favor with the USN. The date of her return soon approaches."
"...UGH I WANT TO TOUCH HER HAIR SO MUCH!"
"I can't help it, I have to check her blog now!"
"EVERYONE! THERE IS AN UPDATE!"
"SOON, BROTHERS! SOOOOOOOON!"
It was the same old, same old.
----
"...So that's it?"
"That's about it," Admiral Takamichi says. "Why, you feel frustrated?"
"Yes, actually." Konoe crosses his arms and tilts his head, trying to ignore the fast battleship riding on his back. Kongou has long since realised she missed her intended target, but in her eyes the Lt. Commander was fun to hug too, so this is fine. "Why did those soldiers hijack the conference?"
"The Bundeswehr was frustrated about not having a shipgirl and was hoping to hold us hostage for the chance to hug Chicago and Kaga, and maybe touch their hair. And possibly arrange for the USN to send the Prinz Eugen back."
"...What."
"The whole Bundeswehr," the Admiral nods. "The rest of us met in secret after the first day and discussed the matter. We all came to the same conclusion. Ruge seems to think we don't know, but… We know."
"...The entire Bundeswehr?"
"The entire fucking Bundeswehr," the Admiral repeats himself. "I mean, I can't blame them. Prinz Eugen is pretty cute."
"I'm cute too, right Admiral?" Kongou asks.
"Yes, Kongou, yes you are." The Admiral looks at the Lt. Commander. "Pat her, won't you?"
Konoe sighs, and reaches behind to touch Kongou's head. The Fast Battleship preens, and makes 'dess' noises. Konoe tries not to ponder the implications and returns to the story. "So… why aren't you bothered by the hijacking?"
"Come on, they weren't going to shoot us. The germans aren't idiots. Just love sick."
"But accidents happen!"
"And if they happened I'd have shoved a biscuit down Ruge's throat. But they didn't so…" Takamichi balances his hands and shrugs. "Eh, Kaga shot them with arrows so we called it even."
"...Is every member of navy high command around the world crazy, or just bored?"
"I'd say that our brilliance is simply unappreciated," The Admiral starts," But yeah no we're just really bored."
"Uh huh."
"..."
"..."
"...Dess."
"So," Konoe says, just to fill the space. "Is the USN going to return the Prinz Eugen? Ever?"
"Fuck if I know," the Admiral responds. "Between you and me, I think Harper is a fucking deviant who wants to collect them all."
"...Okay, I think I'm gonna go."
"As you were, Lt. Commander."
"Dess?"
"And you, Kongou."
"Dess~~"
----
"Hey, Pringles, what're you writing?"
The USS Prinz Eugen looks up at her bunkmate dangling over the side of their bedpost, a tin of potato chips in hand and shakes her head with a smile. "It's a se-cret, Chester~"
"Aw, but I love secrets! And I love keeping them!" The USS Chester flops off the top bunk, bounces on the ground, and then leans against Prinz's bed. "Come on, tell me tell me! We'll have so much fun as secret sisters!" Chester gasps. "We can be Secsters!"
"...Okay," Prinz nods. She turns back to her laptop and continues typing. "I'm just writing my journal! I just posted another update today."
Chester looks over, and nods vigorously. "Looks cool. How'dja do it?"
"Oh, I asked Ms. Iowa about it. She was really nice, and showed me how to make one! It's on the internet, too, so I'll never lose it even if I forget!" Prinz giggles and claps her hands. She sometimes forgets stuff, but the internet is useful like that.
Chester frowns and looks intently at her. "Is it private though?"
"It's a journal, Chesty! Of course it's private!"
"Ohhhhhhhhh okay!" Chester stands up sharply and bounces on her feet, her top-heavy frame bouncing with her. "Oh, Prinz, wanna see a movie tonight? I think they're streaming Die Hard!"
Prinz looks intently at her, her blonde locks kind of jostling under the intensity of her stare. Chester looks back, not sure what exactly to say back.
"...What's a Die Hard?"
Chester smiles widely, and takes her hand. "Follow me if you wanna Die Hard."
"I think it proves everything."
"I think you have a lot to learn."
"BURNING LOOOOOVE!"
----
2026, April
"Harper."
"Taka."
That day, in that conference room, the fates of many would be decided by one confrontation between two men. Dozens looked on, sweat pouring on their brow, as Admiral Takamichi of the JMSDF sat opposite of Fleet Admiral Harper, of the USN.They leaned over their tables, hands clasped before them, silent but for the murmuring of their hangers-on. Fortunes lived and died by their words. And they would live and die by this confrontation.
When the Abyssals were finally recognised as a global threat in 2025, not a false flag operation, bioweapon or coordinated terrorist strike, the navies of the world saw that they had to work together. They had to pool their resources, coordinate their best and brightest, and see to it that even the slightest advantage could be exploited for everything it was worth.
Harper blinks, and covers his face with a sigh.
This is not that conference.
Beneath his clasped hands, Admiral Takamichi smirks. "Four-Zero Taka."
"Get fucking burnt, asshole."
The two men laugh as they stand up and shake hands, making small talk as was customary between rounds. Each man's respective entourages cheered or swore, and money was exchanged amongst them. Fortune lived and died by their hands. And as the old saying went, 'Always bet on Takamichi'.
"How the fuck do you do this? Do your eyes not burn?"
"Oh, they burn," Takamichi admits. "But my heart burns hotter."
"Oh, get burnt."
"Are you deaf or are you stupid? I just told you my heart burns hotter."
"Oh, shut the fuck up you asshole, I want a rematch!"
Beside them, standing dutifully by the table, two women look on with very different expressions. The one by Admiral Takamichi is a tall beauty dressed in the traditional garb of an archer, her expression impassive and her build betraying her history as a Battleship. The other is shorter, but not by much, and wears the (relatively) sleeker frame of a Heavy Cruiser. She adjusts her glasses as she considers her words, before finally leaning towards her counterpart.
"This is normal," Kaga responds blandly, before the american warship even opens her mouth. "The Warfare Evolution Conference has always been, and will always be, an excuse for them to have staring contests."
The Heavy Cruiser Chicago looks at her, one of Japan's legendary Kidou Butai, and swallows. "B-But we're supposed to get together and discuss developments in the war! Update the global status of the allied front! T-Talk about new Abyssals!"
"If it helps, it's not just them." Kaga looks out beyond their table, and sweeps the entire conference room, full of naval officials and national figures having staring contests, funnily enough, as far as the eye can see. Even France and Italy, present over teleconference, are having staring contests over teleconference.
"But… Why staring contests?"
Kaga, in her usual noncommittal manner, shrugs. Chicago looks at her, making sure to adjust the hem of her skirt again - dammit stupid uniform - and eventually sighs in defeat.
"I give up…"
"It's gotten better," Kaga explains in a vaguely comforting fashion. "They used to last for hours."
"...How?"
Kaga shrugs again, and then turns to face her. Chicago, feeling self-conscious, turns to face her as well. "We could have a staring contest if you want," the carrier offers.
"U-Uhm… Okay…"
Chicago clenches her fists, closes her eyes hard, and then concentrates all of herself onto keeping them open. Kaga responds in kind, her gaze unyielding, half-lidded, and even slightly bored. As expected of a converted battleship, and an illustrious carrier at that. But Chicago will not lose!
"Alright, begin."
"Y-Yes!"
----
"Wisky down."
"Hissssssss."
It's not everyday that you see a grown woman sitting on all fours atop a signpost, least of all a blonde bombshell who hardly looks a day over twenty.
"Wisky, come on, this isn't funny! Wisky, down!"
"Hisssssssssssssssssss."
Well, actually, it depends on the country. It's a pretty regular occurrence in San Diego. Especially if you wander near the naval base there often. Because the girls there really like climbing on top of signposts like big cats. From girls as small and cuddly as the Bensons to the girls as big and still-cuddly as the Iowas. Which makes for some surreal imagery.
Like a grown woman with stars in her eyes wearing a cleavage-baring outfit designed for pinups climbing up to the top of a signpost, while another blonde tries to get her down. Like a cat.
"Come on, Wisky! You'll get hurt up there! People will see!"
"LET THEM SEE!" Battleship Wisconsin wails, arms flailing briefly over her head before she brings them down and hugs the signpost for dear life. "LET THEM SEE WHAT I'VE BECOOOOOOOOOOME!"
"Wisky, come on! We have sorties to run!"
"I WANTED TO GO TO BERLI-HIHIHIIIIIIN!"
Iowa sighs and wipes the sweat off her head, using her other hand to fan her t-shirt. Another girl walks up beside her, similarly statuesque but short-haired and black-haired instead of long and blonde like her sisters. "I give up. Jay, got any ideas?"
BB-62, USS New Jersey, nods, lifts her aviators with one hand, and lifts a chainsaw with the other.
"...Jersey, we want to keep the signboard."
Jersey scoffs, and lowers her sunglasses. "You never let me have fun."
"Hisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss."
"You stay out of this, you titty monster!"
Iowa sighs and clutches her head. "Oh sweet Roosevelt…"
----
"...Eyes up, Chicago."
"S-Sorry!"
Kaga sighs and shakes her head, her eyes still open, her stare unwavering. "We can start over. When you are ready, Chicago."
Chicago puts her hands on her chest, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Peaceful thoughts, Chicago, peaceful thoughts. This is a safe place, with friends. She can just start over, and pass the time at the Warfare Evolution Conference, while her Admiral has eye power contests with another Admiral.
She hears clinking noises, and opens her eyes to see a metal cylinder at her feet. In the moments it takes her to recognise the flashbang, Admiral Harper has already flipped the table and Kaga has already pulled her behind it. It explodes into a bright flash, tinnitus keening briefly in her ears. Around her, staff officers and attendants fall to the ground, covering their ears and moaning.
Chicago looks around, shocked and betrayed, when she feels her Admiral cup her face and pull her to face him. He looks at her, eyes hard and his orders loud and clear. 'Stay behind cover, don't do anything brash.'
The Heavy Cruiser looks to her side, and finds Kaga nodding to her Admiral as well. The shipgirls sit together, Chicago with her legs folded, Kaga in traditional seiza, as the doors burst open and men in uniform charge in with weapons shouldered.
Men in Bundeswehr uniform.
"Ladies and gentlemen, people of all ages," a man says loudly in accented english, and his fellow soldiers point their weapons at the crowd, "Today, you will be our hostages!"
Her eyes widen and her heart sinks. This isn't a safe place at all.
----
"...God fucking dammit," the Admiral mutters loudly. "This is the fifth time."
"Indeed," Kaga says dutifully by his side, hands on her lap and fingers drumming her bow. "Shall I get to work?"
"Quietly, let the Americans draw their attention."
"Understood."
----
"Belay that, Chicago," Admiral Harper whispers to her. "Deal with them."
Chicago nods and salutes her Admiral quickly. "Sir!" She takes off her blazer and upends it, shaking it vigorously as various gun parts tumble out. She assembles them quickly, and soon has a Thompson Submachine Gun in hand. "Permission to proceed, Admiral."
Harper takes off his cap and passes her one of the flashbangs hidden under it. "Give them hell."
Chicago takes it, hurls it over the table, and leaps over it. Three seconds later, the flashbang explodes, and she opens fire.
----
Something explodes.
"Nevermind. Don't let the Americans get all the attention."
"Understood." Kaga stands up, nocks her bow, and shoots a guard in the chest. She steps calmly over the table barrier, and continues shooting people in an impassive, robotic fashion.
Takamichi lets out a breath and pulls out his phone, all the while glaring at Harper.
"What?"
"You hide flashbangs in your cap? Really?"
"Like you wouldn't."
"I really didn't. And a Thompson? Really?"
"It's her typewriter." Harper frowns and leans over. "And what are you doing? Calling for help?"
"We might need it," Takamichi responds. "If the base is compromised, we will need heavy firepower."
"We have a carrier and a heavy cruiser."
"Yeah, and the Heer has like a hundred tanks on site."
"Point."
Two men join them soon enough, crawling under the firefight happening over their heads. Takamichi and Harper look over at them and nod.
"Keyes. Ruge," they both say.
"Harper. Takamichi," the Vice Admirals of the Royal Navy and German Navy respond in kind. They sit together behind the table as Harper digs into his pockets and starts passing out cigars. He offers one to Takamichi, still typing away on his phone, and the Japanese Admiral refuses it. Takamichi does offer a lighter, though, and two Vice Admirals and a Fleet Admiral start sharing a smoke together.
"You know that causes cancer, right?" Takamichi says with a scowl.
"Yeah, but we're already friends with you chaps," Vice Admiral Keyes responds.
"You assholes and your anthropomorphic navies full of attractive girls," Vice Admiral Ruge laments.
Takamichi and Harper shrug, and they continue sitting together. Admiral Takamichi finally finishes his message and pockets his smartphone, while something else in the room explodes. A Bundeswehr soldier flies over them and crumples before them in a heap, all four Admirals looking at him.
"Should we go somewhere else?" Takamichi asks.
"I think the fight is coming here," Harper says, peeking over the table.
"The Conference Table is mostly safe," Ruge says. "We could crawl there."
"I wore my dress whites to crawl?" Keyes frowns. "Ugh. How barbaric."
"Which cleans better, the dust or the blood?"
"...Conference table it is." Keyes wears is cap and goes on all fours. "Come on, lads, this way."
"It's my conference room," Ruge mutters, and the four Admirals scurry off.
----
When the rogue members of the Bundeswehr attempted to hijack the conference, they expected that two or three squads would be sufficient. Although the conference had over a hundred representatives, none of them were armed, and they had the home ground advantage. Any attempt to resist would be met with overwhelming odds.
But as the old adage, when an Unstoppable Force meets an Immoveable Object…
Well, in this case, they met the shipgirls. And they rapidly saw the need for reinforcements.
Chicago was like the storm, always moving, always shooting. Her shots were unerring and unrelenting, devastating well-placed firepower meant for pinpoint destruction. Though her orders were not to kill - these were still Bundeswehr soldiers after all, their allies - she was under no compunctions to hold back otherwise.
And despite being packed into a small, fairly plush and hippy form by the circumstances of materialising as a shipgirl, Chicago was still a Baltimore-Class Heavy Cruiser. She still had the horsepower. She still had the speed. And she still had the artillery. All of it, now compressed into a smaller, more mobile package.
So she ran. Along walls, over furniture, through soldiers, none of it was impossible. So she shot. Through cover, through soldiers (non-lethally of course the Admiral would be mad otherwise), and with barely seconds between magazines. And all as bullets whistled past her ears, worthless against american steel.
She was the ocean, furious and swift, with strength enough to sink mighty battleships. The Unstoppable Force.
But where Chicago was the ocean, Kaga was the mountain. For she moved no faster than a brisk walk, but where she looked the world was filled with arrows. Her hands blurred, and she fired faster than any human could. But her shots were unerring in their accuracy, and her body was immune to their bullets.
She was the mountain, enduring and eternal, uncaring of speed for it would outlast all civilisation. The Immoveable Object.
And so, the attempted hijacking of the Warfare Evolution Conference continued to be foiled, by the efforts of two girls who were once warships.
And the navies of the world watched with envy. Because their ships weren't back yet.
----
"Oh, fuck all kinds of duck," Vice Admiral Keyes of the Royal Navy says as he hides under the conference table, while a furious firefight - more or less - rages above him, "We should have gotten the Kongou."
"Hey, you sold her to the Japanese," Vice Admiral Ruge of the German Navy grumbles next to him. "We have the Prinz Eugen, but the US won't give her back. Because they're a bunch of greedy assholes."
"Hey, fuck you," Admiral Harper of the United States Navy says next to them. "We won her, fair and square."
"Yeah, and then you nuked her."
"...Look, it was after the war--"
"Twice."
"...We're still keeping her."
"And that about sums up geopolitics, doesn't it?" Admiral Keyes sighs. "Disgraceful. And it's almost tea time."
Harper and Takamichi exchange looks. Admiral Takamichi sighs, takes off his cap, and starts passing out the biscuits he had hidden under his hat.
"...This almost makes up for the rude shock," Keyes says with a smile.
"And you give me shit about flashbangs," Harper quips.
"Biscuits are better than flashbangs. Could you feed a family flashbangs?"
"...Yes? I mean they wouldn't like it, but…"
"...Well okay then."
----
Within minutes the conference room was secure again, the attempted hijackers subdued and full of arrows or bruises, because Kaga is merciless and Chicago really likes guns. Kaga looks on impassively as Admiral Takamichi thanks her for her service, while Admiral Harper holds Chicago back from apologising to every Bundeswehr soldier she shot.
"The question, though, is why these men tried to hijack the WEC," Keyes surmises.
"...The representatives of almost every navy in the world are in this room. Including the heads of the JMSDF and the USN." Ruge frowns and cups his chin. "Actually, why are you two here?"
"Staring contest," both of them reply immediately.
"Ah," every officer in the room says, nodding sagely. Chicago looks at Kaga in shock, but the Carrier simply looks back impassively and shrugs.
"Hours, Chicago," she says simply. "Hours."
"B-But… How?"
"I shall settle this matter personally, ladies and gentlemen," Vice Admiral Ruge promises. "These men will be brought to justice, and their backers exposed as the traitors they are. For now, the conference can continue tomorrow. For tonight, just return to your hotels and rest."
And so the first day of the Warfare Evolution Conference ends, and nothing of value was gained. Only lots of shipgirl envy. And smug levels, if you were American. Or Japanese.
----
The conference was ultimately productive, however. Information was shared. Doctrines were refined. Dossiers updated. And condolences and support expressed for the many battles fought all over the world.
After the Conference, though, under the cover of night, the men of the Bundeswehr have another meeting.
"...Admiral Ruge, why didn't you hold the three of them hostage?"
"Because shut up. I forgot my gun."
"Admiral, the men are getting upset! When will we get Prinz Eugen back?!"
"Soon, my brothers, soon. With this, I have gained some favor with the USN. The date of her return soon approaches."
"...UGH I WANT TO TOUCH HER HAIR SO MUCH!"
"I can't help it, I have to check her blog now!"
"EVERYONE! THERE IS AN UPDATE!"
"SOON, BROTHERS! SOOOOOOOON!"
It was the same old, same old.
----
"...So that's it?"
"That's about it," Admiral Takamichi says. "Why, you feel frustrated?"
"Yes, actually." Konoe crosses his arms and tilts his head, trying to ignore the fast battleship riding on his back. Kongou has long since realised she missed her intended target, but in her eyes the Lt. Commander was fun to hug too, so this is fine. "Why did those soldiers hijack the conference?"
"The Bundeswehr was frustrated about not having a shipgirl and was hoping to hold us hostage for the chance to hug Chicago and Kaga, and maybe touch their hair. And possibly arrange for the USN to send the Prinz Eugen back."
"...What."
"The whole Bundeswehr," the Admiral nods. "The rest of us met in secret after the first day and discussed the matter. We all came to the same conclusion. Ruge seems to think we don't know, but… We know."
"...The entire Bundeswehr?"
"The entire fucking Bundeswehr," the Admiral repeats himself. "I mean, I can't blame them. Prinz Eugen is pretty cute."
"I'm cute too, right Admiral?" Kongou asks.
"Yes, Kongou, yes you are." The Admiral looks at the Lt. Commander. "Pat her, won't you?"
Konoe sighs, and reaches behind to touch Kongou's head. The Fast Battleship preens, and makes 'dess' noises. Konoe tries not to ponder the implications and returns to the story. "So… why aren't you bothered by the hijacking?"
"Come on, they weren't going to shoot us. The germans aren't idiots. Just love sick."
"But accidents happen!"
"And if they happened I'd have shoved a biscuit down Ruge's throat. But they didn't so…" Takamichi balances his hands and shrugs. "Eh, Kaga shot them with arrows so we called it even."
"...Is every member of navy high command around the world crazy, or just bored?"
"I'd say that our brilliance is simply unappreciated," The Admiral starts," But yeah no we're just really bored."
"Uh huh."
"..."
"..."
"...Dess."
"So," Konoe says, just to fill the space. "Is the USN going to return the Prinz Eugen? Ever?"
"Fuck if I know," the Admiral responds. "Between you and me, I think Harper is a fucking deviant who wants to collect them all."
"...Okay, I think I'm gonna go."
"As you were, Lt. Commander."
"Dess?"
"And you, Kongou."
"Dess~~"
----
"Hey, Pringles, what're you writing?"
The USS Prinz Eugen looks up at her bunkmate dangling over the side of their bedpost, a tin of potato chips in hand and shakes her head with a smile. "It's a se-cret, Chester~"
"Aw, but I love secrets! And I love keeping them!" The USS Chester flops off the top bunk, bounces on the ground, and then leans against Prinz's bed. "Come on, tell me tell me! We'll have so much fun as secret sisters!" Chester gasps. "We can be Secsters!"
"...Okay," Prinz nods. She turns back to her laptop and continues typing. "I'm just writing my journal! I just posted another update today."
Chester looks over, and nods vigorously. "Looks cool. How'dja do it?"
"Oh, I asked Ms. Iowa about it. She was really nice, and showed me how to make one! It's on the internet, too, so I'll never lose it even if I forget!" Prinz giggles and claps her hands. She sometimes forgets stuff, but the internet is useful like that.
Chester frowns and looks intently at her. "Is it private though?"
"It's a journal, Chesty! Of course it's private!"
"Ohhhhhhhhh okay!" Chester stands up sharply and bounces on her feet, her top-heavy frame bouncing with her. "Oh, Prinz, wanna see a movie tonight? I think they're streaming Die Hard!"
Prinz looks intently at her, her blonde locks kind of jostling under the intensity of her stare. Chester looks back, not sure what exactly to say back.
"...What's a Die Hard?"
Chester smiles widely, and takes her hand. "Follow me if you wanna Die Hard."
Glitchrr36
Slick's Short Company, CEO
- Location
- The Wastes
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Wat.
Just...WAT?
Just...WAT?
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
gemany wants shipgirls to headpat, not that hard to figure out
Ryven Razgriz
I need a Gun and I'll let you know 'What's up?'.
- Location
- South East Asia
Fuckin' hell, this is crack.
- Location
- Singapore
Next Vignette will probably follow Shoukaku and Zuikaku's adventures in Canada. They will have an... interesting encounter, right before returning to San Diego for the Aleutian Islands Campaign.
- Location
- National Capital Region, USA
This is a great plan and cannot possibly go wrong ever in any way. The entire German military are total fanboys for Pringles now, aren't they?
Dess noises. XD
- Location
- Plato's Cave
Pringles is a precious snowflake that must be protected.
- Location
- Pacific NW
I'm thinking more LiveJournal
So, I don't know if I idolize Koji-sama too much, but what crossed my mind first is: "Oh Dear God in Heaven, they clone Liquid! Again!"
- Location
- Singapore
Harper: "Alright here's the deal. You give us all your ancient Nazi supertech and we give you Prinz back."
Ruge: "Nazi Supertech does not exist."
Harper: "...What."
Ruge: "Must I repeat myself? Nazi Supertech doesn't exist. We don't have lightning guns or mech suits or power armor or moonbases. We never have."
Harper: "But... B-But Wolfenstein--"
Ruge: "Is a game."
Harper: "...But MechaHitler."
Ruge: "Hitler didn't have a fucking mech suit."
Harper: "FINE IF YOU'RE GOING TO CRUSH MY DREAMS LIKE THAT I'LL CRUSH YOUR DREAMS!"
Ruge: "I guess this means war."
Harper: "Psh, we'd win."
Keyes: "No, actually, we're on his side."
Harper: "That's, like, Britain and Germany. What are you going to do, send ships at me?"
Takamichi: "...Fuck it I'll help."
Keyes & Ruge: "Ayyyy."
Harper: "YOU TRAITOR!"
Takamichi: "Hey, I'm bored. Also you're the asshole here so."
Harper: "THEN WAR IT IS! I'LL TAKE YOU ALL ON!"
Vignettes From The Naval District
CIVIL WAR
CIVIL WAR
Dirtnap
Kanmusu Affecionado
And the USN buries them in DDG and CVN spam. Or Fletchers, if we're using shipgirls. And Clevelands. And Essexes. And Gearings. And Baltimores. And...well you get the idea.
ggnore
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- Location
- Singapore
The Fletcherspam is real, yes.And the USN buries them in DDG and CVN spam. Or Fletchers, if we're using shipgirls.
ggnore
Fortunately Japan has a secret weapon: Anime.
EDIT:
Fletcher: "But... we're not DDGs."
Harper: "Relax, I got this. I cashed in a favor with the Army for this. Here, take a crate and spread them out."
Fletcher: "...Rocket launchers?"
Harper: "You're already a Guided Missile Destroyer, Fletcher."
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Is this bad that I read this as Diamond Dogs?
- Location
- Void of Observation
I guess I can tell I'm reading concentrated crack by the light-headed feeling I get whenever I enter this thread.
14: Blizzard
- Location
- Singapore
2026, April
"Ah, I'm home!"
"Welcome home…"
Fubuki closes the sliding door behind her as she fiddles with her shoe straps, pointedly not thinking about how, as an anthropomorphic warship, she still has to worry about shoes and straps. The lights are off in the dorm, and she could hardly see anything inside, even with her enhanced radar. But she definitely heard someone. There is no denying it.
Fubuki sighs, shake her head, and flicks the light switch on.
On the far side of the room, a pile of blankets lit up by a widescreen monitor twists and hisses, like an eldritch god in birth.
"Hatsuyuki, if you're going to play video games do it on the desk!"
"It's cold and I like blankets," her younger sister whines flatly. The third ship of the Fubuki-Class stretches languidly as she splays out on the floor mats, resting her game controller on her belly as she does so. Hatsuyuki stops suddenly, looking her sister dead in the eye. "Don't you like blankets?"
"I like blankets enough to not distract myself with video games," Fubuki responds. She sets her satchel down, stretching her arm and folding it behind her head. Ah, she liked going out and doing her duty, but being home was nice too. "Anything happen at home?"
Hatsuyuki shrugs and goes back to her video games, deathly focused on a mess of colours and sounds projected on a glass screen."The Lt. Commander showed up. Kongou may have kidnapped him. Nagato and the carriers punched her lights out. Same old, same old."
"Mm," Fubuki grunts. Same old, same old. She heads to their fridge along the wall and pops it open, helping herself to an ice cream cone. Vanilla with raspberry swirls, of course. "Anything on Uranami yet?"
"Nope. No new ships since the last time you called."
"Mm." Fubuki tears the wrapper off and sits down beside Hatsuyuki. Her little sister offers her some blanket, and Fubuki wraps herself under it. "How's Miyuki?"
"I think she ran into Inazuma again."
"Before we came back, Hatsu."
"I know what I said."
Fubuki frowns, ice cream in her mouth. She raises a finger. Thoughtfully, she lowers it.
The two of them sit there quietly for a moment, while Hatsuyuki continues playing.
"...She was coming to reinforce us, wasn't she?"
"Mmhm."
"Well, that explains why Inazuma was missing from the Manila briefing."
"Yep." Hatsuyuki leans over, and Fubuki gives her a lick of her ice cream. "I was gonna come too, but eh, didn't feel like it."
Fubuki rolls her eyes. "Riiiiight. So, how's Isonami?"
"She likes being in Reserve Fleet. She gets to sail and she doesn't have to fight battleships like you do. Speaking off." Hatsuyuki glances over briefly, but significantly. Fubuki feels a chill up her spine. "Where's your arm?"
"...I'm supposed to go see Akashi tomorrow to get a new one."
"Right. What, lost it punching a battleship again?"
"THAT WAS ONE TIME!" Fubuki bites down on the rest of her ice cream, cone and all, and forces herself to frown through the brain freeze. She fails. Ow, brain freeze. "P...Please don't tell Isonami."
Hatsuyuki chuckles. "Relax, I don't care that much. Just don't die."
"Right." Fubuki sighs and stands up to use the sink. "Where is Shira anyways? I thought she was at home."
"She went out for an errand. You have maybe an hour until she gets back."
"Good, because I don't want to be around when--"
The doors fly open.
"FUBUKI WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS OF THE OCEAN DID YOU DO TO YOUR ARM?!"
Fubuki loses all colour in her face.
"Miiiiiiight be bad at keeping time," Hatsuyuki says casually, "Haven't looked at a clock in hours. It's 3pm, right?"
She glances over. It is 4pm.
Hatsuyuki shrugs.
"Welp. Sorry, Fubu. Any last words?"
"Eep."
"Ah, I'm home!"
"Welcome home…"
Fubuki closes the sliding door behind her as she fiddles with her shoe straps, pointedly not thinking about how, as an anthropomorphic warship, she still has to worry about shoes and straps. The lights are off in the dorm, and she could hardly see anything inside, even with her enhanced radar. But she definitely heard someone. There is no denying it.
Fubuki sighs, shake her head, and flicks the light switch on.
On the far side of the room, a pile of blankets lit up by a widescreen monitor twists and hisses, like an eldritch god in birth.
"Hatsuyuki, if you're going to play video games do it on the desk!"
"It's cold and I like blankets," her younger sister whines flatly. The third ship of the Fubuki-Class stretches languidly as she splays out on the floor mats, resting her game controller on her belly as she does so. Hatsuyuki stops suddenly, looking her sister dead in the eye. "Don't you like blankets?"
"I like blankets enough to not distract myself with video games," Fubuki responds. She sets her satchel down, stretching her arm and folding it behind her head. Ah, she liked going out and doing her duty, but being home was nice too. "Anything happen at home?"
Hatsuyuki shrugs and goes back to her video games, deathly focused on a mess of colours and sounds projected on a glass screen."The Lt. Commander showed up. Kongou may have kidnapped him. Nagato and the carriers punched her lights out. Same old, same old."
"Mm," Fubuki grunts. Same old, same old. She heads to their fridge along the wall and pops it open, helping herself to an ice cream cone. Vanilla with raspberry swirls, of course. "Anything on Uranami yet?"
"Nope. No new ships since the last time you called."
"Mm." Fubuki tears the wrapper off and sits down beside Hatsuyuki. Her little sister offers her some blanket, and Fubuki wraps herself under it. "How's Miyuki?"
"I think she ran into Inazuma again."
"Before we came back, Hatsu."
"I know what I said."
Fubuki frowns, ice cream in her mouth. She raises a finger. Thoughtfully, she lowers it.
The two of them sit there quietly for a moment, while Hatsuyuki continues playing.
"...She was coming to reinforce us, wasn't she?"
"Mmhm."
"Well, that explains why Inazuma was missing from the Manila briefing."
"Yep." Hatsuyuki leans over, and Fubuki gives her a lick of her ice cream. "I was gonna come too, but eh, didn't feel like it."
Fubuki rolls her eyes. "Riiiiight. So, how's Isonami?"
"She likes being in Reserve Fleet. She gets to sail and she doesn't have to fight battleships like you do. Speaking off." Hatsuyuki glances over briefly, but significantly. Fubuki feels a chill up her spine. "Where's your arm?"
"...I'm supposed to go see Akashi tomorrow to get a new one."
"Right. What, lost it punching a battleship again?"
"THAT WAS ONE TIME!" Fubuki bites down on the rest of her ice cream, cone and all, and forces herself to frown through the brain freeze. She fails. Ow, brain freeze. "P...Please don't tell Isonami."
Hatsuyuki chuckles. "Relax, I don't care that much. Just don't die."
"Right." Fubuki sighs and stands up to use the sink. "Where is Shira anyways? I thought she was at home."
"She went out for an errand. You have maybe an hour until she gets back."
"Good, because I don't want to be around when--"
The doors fly open.
"FUBUKI WHAT IN THE SEVEN HELLS OF THE OCEAN DID YOU DO TO YOUR ARM?!"
Fubuki loses all colour in her face.
"Miiiiiiight be bad at keeping time," Hatsuyuki says casually, "Haven't looked at a clock in hours. It's 3pm, right?"
She glances over. It is 4pm.
Hatsuyuki shrugs.
"Welp. Sorry, Fubu. Any last words?"
"Eep."
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Nottheunmaker
Altman be praised
- Location
- USG Ishimura
Hatsuyuki you are a worthless lump and we love you for it.