《Ocean Plains (Kancolle SI)》


 Chapter 1

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    My eyes fully opened, taking in shimmering expanse water before me, glistening in the sun.


    "What the?" I shout, looking around wildly. To my left? More water. To my right? More water. Behind me? Guess what! More water!


    Wait? If I was surrounded by water, then how was I standing right now? What in the name of Jesus''s mother was going on here? This had to be my brain playing tricks on me. I looked downwards towards my feet, hoping to find that, yes, this was, in fact, a dream.


    And while I didn''t get a good look at my feet, what I did see didn''t, well, discourage the notion that this was just a dream. I mean, last I checked, reality didn''t just decide to leave a person floating in a giant body of water. With their gender completely changed.


    Very funny, brain. I mean, this was the type of shit I kept that dream journal for, but this was a bit too vivid for my tastes. Well, time to turn off the sun, it''s way too bright for my tastes, anyway. I swung my hand in the air and nothing. Strange. Usually, I could snap myself out of a dream just by acting as if I''d turned off the lights.


    But the sun still shone brightly, reflecting off the waves as I bobbed up and down in the water like a human buoy. I take a few more swipes at the imaginary lightswitch, before letting my hand return to my side.


    Well. Shit.


    I mean, this had to be a dream, but still. I didn''t want to go to work after dreaming I''d been awake the whole time. That''s just a really dumb type of tired when you know you shouldn''t be tired, but it doesn''t feel like you got any sleep at all.


    But if this was going to be my once in a blue moon crazy dream, then what was I going to do? Standing here until my alarm clock started blaring wasn''t all that appealing. So, did I just start walking or?


    I swung my foot forward, only to lose my balance, falling forward, my face smacking against the waterline with a splat. Liquid flew upwards, getting into my hair with ease, but I pushed myself back up with my hands. It took a moment of flailing about to find my balance again, but I finally managed to steady myself.


    Okay, so walking was out. Maybe there was some trick to this? Like ice skating? That wasn''t an activity I''d partaken in since I was a lot longer. Never was quite good at it, either. Figuring to just go for it, I kicked off with my right foot, spending me speeding across the water. Sweet, I didn''t even need to follow up. Like some sort of autopilot.


    "YES!" I shouted to nobody in particular, as I felt the wind whip it''s way through my hair.


    Currently going North-Northeast at a speed of 20 knots. Current position unknown.


    I blinked as the thought ran through my head. Where the hell did that come from?


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    The novelty of skating over the waves kind of lost its appeal quickly. Sure, I mean, it was something, but normally my dreams quickly devolved into what would likely be the closest I''d ever get to being on drugs.


    Instead, it felt like I''d been out here for hours. I even had the sun to prove it. It started on my starboard, no, right side, in the East. Now, it had risen to its apex position, meaning it was sometime around noon.


    Was this a dream? This just felt far too bright, far too real. Heck, I could even smell, well, I honestly couldn''t describe what I smelled. Ocean, maybe? What did the ocean smell like, anyway? I''ve pretty much spent most of my life landlocked in the continental US, how would I know what an ocean is supposed to smell like!


    If this was the ocean though, an actual ocean, not a dream ocean, that would explain why I hadn''t seen any hint of land yet.


    But that raised a few questions. Firstly, what the hell was I doing in the middle of some God-forsaken ocean? Secondly, why in the name of Satan''s left ass cheek was I a girl! I mean, why I was skating across the water like a rocket and why I had what looked like naval turrets attached to my back were probably tied to those two questions, but if not, those were my third and fourth.


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    Do not panic. Nothing good comes from panicking. Just breath. In and out. In and out. Inhale and exhale. No, screw that. Now was the time to panic!


    I was out in the open ocean. At night. See the problem here? This had gone on for too long to be considered a dream! I was lost, it was night time, and I was still a girl!


    How did I end up here! I fall asleep, in my bed, safe at home, then BAM! Wake up in the back ass middle of nowhere, and I mean, nowhere, with not even a single landmark to give me any damn idea of where my ass was!


    God damn-it! I just wanted to be at home, in bed, about to fall asleep after an annoying day at work! Not to be stuck out here in the middle of the ocean as what could only be a cruel joke. I just wanted!


    No! Stop! Just Stop! I smacked myself across the cheek, trying to bring my brain back into line. Instead of the slap of flesh against flesh, what rattled its way through my head was the dull thawk of metal against metal. That, no. I pulled my hand back, twisting it back in the forth in the moon''s light. That wasn''t natural. A human person didn''t sound like metal. What the hell did that mean? I was some type of robot now? I, that, no.


    Stop. Everything, full stop, right now. I ignored the feeling of my deceleration as I slowly came to a halt. Brain, I know you want to focus on everything at once right now, but that''s not possible. We''re a girl, we''re completely lost, and I may or may not be a robot or something else at this point, but put a pin in it. Now.


    What we need is a plan to get us unlost.


    Step 1. Find an island, find land, find something that helps me orient myself.


    Step 2. See if said island has people, inhabitants, anything of the sort. If I could find a map, that would be a blessing. Some form of phone, radio, or other transmissions would be even better.


    Step 3. Get food. My stomach''s been grumbling at me for most of the day, and I''ve usually got something to eat well before this point.


    Step 4. Repeat until I can get myself back to the US. Then I can start worrying about everything else.


    Oh, and I had come to a complete stop. I mean, I did say stop, but that was aimed at my brain, not my, oh, forget it. Not the craziest thing that''s happened to me so far today.


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    I let out a short shuttered breath as I scanned the horizon for any stretch of land I could find. Being honest, I likely wouldn''t be able to find dry land in the dark unless I ran right into it.


    Still, this silence was creeping me out. It was just so dark, so alone. All I had was the lapping of waves at my shoes, my thoughts, and sometimes that weird voice that shows up from time to time. Great, I''m already going insane!


    Land spotted, port side.


    My head whips around to left, not my port side, my LEFT, trying to spot whatever the voice was telling me about now.


    Okay, so what exactly was I supposed to be looking for, exactly? Oh, right a fat lot of nothing. What was I expecting, a star to blink into existence or something?


    Well, that''s actually what happened as looked out over the water, as a low lying star suddenly became visible. Right, superposition. There was something between me and that star, which meant some type of large structure. An island. It couldn''t be anything else. I banked, changing course towards the unknown location.


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    Land, sweet land! I don''t care if you''re aggravating sand! I missed you!


    Water still lapped peacefully at my feet as I looked out across the beach and into the jungle. If I stayed but, I''d be exposed, too, well, whatever it was that was out there. At the very least, the jungle would provide me with cover, a possible food supply. But it was nighttime. And it was dark.


    No. I was an adult. I had giant cannons coming out of my back. I could do this. I wasn''t scared of the dark.


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    Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope. Not going back into the jungle. Fuck it, the spiders can keep it until daytime! I''ll just go find a tree to sleep under!


    I glared down at my stomach as it grumbled in protest. Screw you too! I''m not fighting spiders the size of my face for a meal!


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    Ow. Ow! Ow!


    What the hell! Why did it feel like something was smacking my face? Ow! Damnit, there it was again! I crack open my eyes, only to find I couldn''t see anything. Not even stars or the moon, just black.


    So, I did what any person might do, waking up on a strange foreign island they knew nothing about, which may or may not have strange people who may or may not wish to do me harm. My fingers clutched at my face, gripping onto whatever I could, before tearing off whatever was obscuring my vision.


    What I expected was to be holding some type of cloth in my hand. Not what had to be the world''s largest crab.


    Which properly became the world''s largest baseball as I reared back and threw it as far as possible, shrieking all the while. After the giant spiders, any substantially sized arthropod was too soon.


    A rumble from my stomach reminded me of something. Most people had no problem eating crabs. Please don''t tell me I just threw my first source of food into the ocean!


    Great, just great. Well, I don''t know how to cook crab anyway, so take that, universe!


    No, still hungry. I turned my head back into the jungle. Best to try and explore, see if I could find some food in the meantime.


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    "Let go!" I shouted, struggling to tear off the vines that kept ensnaring the guns strapped to my back. With a final tug, the foliage gave way, finally freeing the emplacement, but this was starting to get on my nerves. This was the third time already! As cool and intimidating as they likely would be, these things attracted vines like a suit attracts cat hair.


    I should know. Berry was a sweet girl, but she shed. A lot. Fluffy, may he rest in peace, was even worse.


    Was there a way to detach it somehow? Safely, in a place that wouldn''t get it gummed up with dirt and whatever other creepy crawlies infested this place.


    And look, now it''s gone. Ok, this was getting weird. Maybe I should run myself through the paces, see exactly what I could do like this. No, that was dumb. Wasting resources on experimentation, as much as I loved science, was counterproductive.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    So, did I just, think about how I wanted it back? That work? My head turned toward the masses of steel. Yes, that did work.


    Alright, let''s get a move on here. I have an island to explore, and food to find.


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    A trail! Yes, this is exactly what I was looking for! Beaten into the jungle soil by thousands of steps, forming a surface resistant to erosion where no plants grew. Well, there was some greenery, so it likely hadn''t been used for a bit. But still, that meant people! Maybe.


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    That''s. Well, that''s not good. I finally managed to find civilization. Well, the ruins of it, at any rate. Parts were already being reclaimed by the jungle itself. But it hadn''t been abandoned willingly. In some places, roofs were burned. In others, some houses were destroyed entirely, nothing more than a pile of rubble remaining.


    While this was little more than a small village, it was apparent that some type of struggle occurred here. A building didn''t explode without reason, let multiple ones. Broken glass crunched beneath my feet as I walked through the streets.


    What wasn''t completely obliterated showed signs of looting, broken down doors and shattered windows. And that was when massive holes weren''t smashing into the sides of buildings. I shuttered as I passed one that looked strangely humanoid in shape.


    What happened here? Whatever caused this disaster, it looked like it was fairly recent, yet not. Maybe one or two years ago, at most. Enough time for nature to deal with the remains of the people who lived here, but not enough for the jungle to reclaim the small settlement.


    But who could cause such a thing? It wasn''t natural, that much was obvious. Pirates? A military strike? No, that couldn''t be it. I''d be seeing a lot more damage if it was something like that.


    I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. This wasn''t helping me get anywhere. I just hope the people who lived here don''t come back because I was about to take everything that hadn''t already been pilfered.


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    Logically speaking, I should have known that scavenging from a raided village would be a waste of time. I mean, I found some canned food, which I had gathered in a small pile. I couldn''t find anything to open them with, so I was a bit stuck. Rocks were aplenty, but that just seemed wasteful. Using my hands was another option, but trying to tear my way through the metal.


    Then again, I had managed to throw that unholy abomination of a crab pretty far this morning. So maybe I can just tear off the lid?


    The can crumpled in my grasp, spraying a tree in red tomato paste. Maybe a more gentle touch is required. A damn shame. Such a waste of perfectly good food.


    And metal.


    ¡­ What the hell is wrong with me!


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    Alright, with the food problem temporarily solved, and the concerning fact the empty tin cans looked tasty, I decided to take another look through the rubble. What did I want? A map. Not the one from Dora, but a map of the local area. Not just this island, but the ones around it. If it could help me figure out where I was, then I wanted it.


    Though I probably shouldn''t spend too long on this. Staying in the ruins of a small village was not going to do my nerves any good right now. But traveling blind was going to be more trouble than it was worth.


    What has my life become? I just wanted to be home! Was that too much to ask?


    Yeah, it probably was. Given how this year was going, it was a miracle the Death Star hadn''t shown up.


    I swung my leg lazily as if to kick a rock, only to fall on my ass. Instead of lightly tapping the wall, it instead exploded, inward, showering the room on the other side with mortar and fragments of pulverized brick.


    Ops. Well, I didn''t think I explored this room anyway, given the door was blocked by part of the roof. Getting through was a bit of tight fit, but I managed to squeeze through, coughing on the layers of dust I kicked up.


    Slowly, but surely, I made my way towards the center of the room. Could it? Could it be? I ran my hand along the flat surface, before lowering it along the side, finding a handle. YES! A desk!


    Please let it have a map, please let it have a map! Papers flew I tossed them into the air, desperate to find what I was looking for. Drawer after drawer was left empty by my relentless search. But at last, I found what I was searching for, a small pile of maps that I held aloft as if I had just found the holy grail.


    It wasn''t much, but it was something. I laid each one down, trying to keep them properly spaced out. The map of the island itself was useless to me, so I ignored it, pushing the piece of paper off to the side.


    Out of the three remaining maps, I started with the largest. A map of the Pacific Ocean? At least I know my general location now, but the Pacific was the world''s largest ocean. That by itself didn''t do me a lot of good.


    The second-largest of the three was much more localized, and it was with the help of the third I managed to pinpoint my location. Give or take, I was somewhere in South-Western Caroline Islands. That was the best I could figure, given how bad I am with maps.


    Which meant I was within spitting distance, relatively speaking, of the Philippines. Yeah, no. Not going there unless completely necessary. And thankfully, I didn''t! Australia was a straight shot south, though I would have to skirt around Papua New Guinea to get there.


    I wasn''t too keen on going North-East to Hawaii. Even if I hoped along the island chain until I made it to the Marshall Islands, I''d still be out on the open ocean for quite a while. That just seemed far too risky, given how little food I would have available to me.


    Focus on getting to Australia for now. Then I can plan what to do next. I don''t need to focus on anything else.


    Gazing up through the hole in the roof, I only just began to notice that night was beginning to set in. Had I spent that much time here? Alright, I''ll try to find something to hold the maps in to prevent them from getting soaked by the ocean for a bit, while looking for better nightly lodgings.


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    It was by some holy miracle that I dug up one of those green shopping bags. One of the reusable ones. Sure, it was dirty, but it was better than nothing. Add that to my list of things to do when I finally make my way back to land.


    Buy pants! With actual pockets! Because I was NOT going to keep wearing this pocketless skirt!


    I was shouting at myself. That wasn''t something I was supposed to be doing.


    I had to be tired. I had no clue when I finally made landfall last night, probably some forsaken hour, and a tree doesn''t exactly make for a good pillow. Yeah, that''s what I needed. A proper night''s rest.


    Ultimately, I decided on a small room on a building that somehow had most of its roof intact. My little post nightfall search found me nothing in the way of proper bedding. Given how difficult it was to find food, this town had been completely picked over.


    There was another reason I chose this room. A large cloth draped over, well, I wasn''t sure, but it was time to find out. But it would serve as a suitable blanket. Having a room over my head was better than nothing.


    With a tug, I yanked the improve blanket off sending up another cloud of dust, but once it cleared, I could see what it was covering. A mirror? How''d that managed to survive for so long?


    I really shouldn''t. Just find a corner to hunker down in, and leave in the morning. But I couldn''t help myself. I just needed to get one good look at myself.


    The face staring back at me wasn''t my own. Yeah, no shit. Having one''s gender changed tended to do that. But I expected some part of my old appearance remained. My hair. My eyes.


    Even that had changed drastically. My knees gave way, sliding out from underneath me as I crashed to the ground. As if the full weight of everything just came crashing down onto my shoulders.


    I wasn''t going back home, was I? I looked completely different! There was no way in hell my parents would think I was their son! And even if I could convince them, how could I even start to reclaim any part of my old life? Classes, college, my degree. Friends and family. All of it, gone like dust on the wind.


    I fell asleep watching tears crawl down my new face.


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    When I finally stirred in the early hours of the morning, it was with great reluctance. What was the point? Everything in my old life was out of my hands. I certainly didn''t have an ID either, or records. I was up hell creek without a paddle on this one.


    Still staying put didn''t have much appeal either, so I pushed myself up onto my feet. I could figure something out.


    A faint sound reached my ears from outside. It sounded like the soft footfalls on dirt. A person? Another human being! I kept low, hoping to gauge the situation first. Something happened to this town, and I wasn''t sure what. Sure, this could be a friendly person willing to help. But they could also be an unsavory individual.


    Granted, I probably wasn''t on a much better note right now, creeping around like this. So, I went for it, taking a quick peek through a broken window. Just as quickly I hopped my head down, covering my hands to prevent my mouth from letting a squeak of terror.


    It looked like a ten-year-old girl. Pale as an actual corpse, if not somehow even more so. But it lacked any sign of decay or even damage in the slightest. Well, I couldn''t say that. Its head was beyond fucked up, like one of those fungus zombies. And that wasn''t touching the massive arms locked to its side.


    Ok, maybe the whole, looking like a ten-year-old was inaccurate. But I recognized it. Well, not it, specifically. But it''s head and arms were a dead give way to what it was. An Abyssal.


    I spent enough time in internet circles to know of Kancolle. Even if I had more connections to Azur Lane, I had like the Abyssal''s from an esthetics standpoint. A perfect blend of interesting and absolute nightmare fuel.


    But Kancolle was a game. Abyssals weren''t real, they were a work of fiction! There is no way that could be real. This had to be some type of elaborate joke.


    Then again, it wasn''t normal for someone to turn into a girl. Or skate across the water. Or have massive guns that could appear and disappear on command.


    ¡­ Oh. I''m a shipgirl.


    That makes more sense.


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    Nobody ever accused me of being the brightest bulb on the chandelier.


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 Chapter 2

    I needed to leave. I needed to leave, yesterday! This village was no longer safe. I doubted anything less further inland then Kansas was safe.


    The sooner I was in Australia, the better. These islands, no, this ocean, was a hornet''s nest, and I was in prime position to get stung. And when I mean stung, I mean shot until I resemble cheese.


    All ahead full!


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    That massive dark storm cloud wasn''t there yesterday, was it?


    No? Yeah, I thought so too. Didn''t Abssyals create massive storm clouds like this?


    I wasn''t asking you! How would you know that? Exactly, you wouldn''t know!


    This was a massive kick to my now nonexistent balls. Was I just simply blind and hadn''t noticed that before, or could that just simply be an Abssyal fleet moving through the area? Knowing myself as intimately as I did, it was likely the former.


    So I stood there, glaring at the offending dark cloud of fluff as if my gaze could obliterate it from existence. Unfortunately, I lacked the effective glare or the anti-aircraft guns to blast it out of the sky. And there was no chance in hell I was willing to risk charging through whatever was generating the storm. I''d be sunk in moments if there was enough of me intact to get there at all!


    What? No! Didn''t you just hear me compare this situation to being stuck in a hornet''s nest! A radio transmission would be nothing but catnap for the eldrich abominations. I don''t care if you think the analogy is dumb! Radio stays off until we''re close enough to somebody to pull our ass out the fire!


    Hey, you guys should be thankful! If plan A is off the table, then times time for plan B. We''re heading for Pearl Harbor! Yeah, that made them pleased, even if I didn''t want


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    ¡­


    Go fuck yourself on a cactus, Murphy.


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    This was bullshit! There is no goddamn way in hell there was another Abbsyal fleet between me and Hawaii! Going straight for the US coastline was a no go either. The distance between the Hawaiian island chain and the Continental US was considered on its own. If I tried to go the distance myself, I''d be liable to starve to death before I got there.


    Which left me with a singular option. Sail east towards the Phillippines. An island nation that mostly been overrun by this point. Being caught on the open ocean was a death sentence. Unless I was a submarine and my crew has been messing with me, but I doubt that.


    What type of ship was I, anyway? I wasn''t exactly a nautical expert, but it wasn''t benefiting me in the slightest that my guns had been scaled to human size. How many ships had four primary guns? Given the girth of the US navy, probably a considerable volume. Hell, was I even ship from the United States?


    I gripped the hem of my skirt, looking for something I could have sworn was there when I looked at that mirror yesterday night, but simply didn''t have the emotional energy to deal with. There it was. A red and blue strip that ran up half the length of my skirt. Three letters lay beneath it. USS. Well, that settles it.


    Still, what ship was I? I figured it would be marked somewhere.


    What do you mean, you don''t know? How do you not know what vessel you''re actively on! It''s like saying I don''t know my home address. Yes, I did know my home address! No, I''m not telling you! You''ll find out if I can convince my parents I''m me! And yes, you will be meeting them whether you like it or not! They will meet the men that are inside me!


    That came out wrong.


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    Dull thud''s reached my eardrums. What the hell? Please don''t tell me I was under fire already! Surely, whatever it was, I would be able to see it! Swift observation of the skies revealed I wasn''t under fire. Still, where was that racket coming from!


    Oh. That''s were. Those two massive storm clouds I spotted were on a collision course. Beneath them, clocked in shadows that were far too deep to be natural, I could barely make out the faint flashes of cannon fire.


    Well, it looks like I chose the right time to make a break for it. If I hadn''t, I''d probably be stuck in what looked to be a pitched battle between two fleets.


    Now, on that note. Faster, please. I think I speak for everyone that getting caught is a bad thing.


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    Still, the puzzle of who exactly I was supposed to be as a ship kept me busy enough. I wasn''t a submarine, that was obvious. Too many guns, absolutely no interest in being submerged. Battleship? How fast was I going again?


    33 knots? Yeah, thought so. Unless I was one of those fast battleships, like Iowa or something, battleships were not known for speed. And didn''t the Iowa-class have three primary batteries to my four? Destroyer then?


    No torpedoes? Damn, that was a pisser. And moving too slow? How exactly would you know that! Oh, you served on a destroyer. Yeah, that did sound a bit slow for a destroyer anyway. Sorry about that.


    I certainly wasn''t a carrier either. Why? No bow. Though I would have to admit being carrier would be awesome. Just snipping Abyssals from miles off, completely untouched. That would be nice.


    Which left cruisers. Light or heavy. What exactly was the difference between them? I honestly had no idea. Oh, it depends on gun size? Six-inch for a light cruiser and up to eight-inch for a heavy, got it. Which do I have, then?


    I''m getting tired of you guys not knowing. Measuring them? Right now? Maybe when we get to the next island. If we''re staying out on the open ocean, I want to be ready to fire at a moment''s notice. I''d rather not rupture anyone''s eardrums.


    Wait, how would you be able to measure my turrets in the first place? Firstly, aren''t you guys inside of me? Secondly¡­ I felt a shudder run it''s way down my spine as I felt a weird sensation. Like someone was now sitting on my shoulder.


    "Hey."


    In which I proceeded to nearly jump out of my literal skin. Oh dear god, please, don''t scare me like that again. Wait. Where''d the little guy go?


    Crap! Spinning on my feet, I turned around as quickly as possible, scooping the small human-like figure out of the water and back onto my shoulder. She did not look pleased with me.


    "Hey, hey hey hey"


    No, you''re confused about why you have boobs? Welcome to club buddy.


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    Land-Ho!


    It wasn''t much, but it was mine. For a day, max. Sucks, but I wasn''t exactly in a position to be picky.


    After all, when, not if, when, the Abssyals caught me scent, I was going to have to be beating feet to the nearest safe port. Might as well see the exotic sights while I could.


    Like this atoll, for instance! Considerably large, with a formerly active volcano at its heart. Green foliage-covered its slopes, meaning it hadn''t erupted in some time, ringed by flat reefs barely covered in sand.


    I sailed through one of the gaps in the reef, making my way towards the volcanic island. What sparse vegetation was on the outer ring of the atoll was useless to me. If there was anything worthwhile, it would be there, at the center.


    Once my feet touched the sand, I dismissed my rigging. Unless I was being tracked, and I was fairly sure I wasn''t, I wouldn''t be needing it.


    What I did need was food. There had to be some on this island!


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    I glared at the yellow fruit in my hand. My brother loved bananas. A lot.


    Me? I was far less impressed. What? I was a picky eater. Even if right now I couldn''t afford to be.


    I was a vessel of the US navy, damnit! Was I going to be stopped by a bright yellow fruit? NO!


    Teeth clenched, I bit into the fruit, chewing it swiftly, before swallowing. That. Wasn''t horrible. I expected something positively wretched. How much of this was me simply starving, being a shipgirl messing with my sense of tastes, or both were up for debate.


    The rumble in my stomach passed along a message loud and clear. Less deep introspection, and more shoveling food into my mouth! Something I did with immense glee.


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    Cave? Check. An actual decent night''s sleep? Double-check. Unwanted Abyssal''s at my doorstep? Triple-check.


    I kept to the underbrush, out of sight, content to observe for the time being. Two of the monstrous destroyer types. Looked like a rounded bullet with a mouth. I could take them. Easily, my main guns would enough to wipe out both ships in a volley, two, tops.


    But was it smart to take them? If they were just patrolling the area, then I''d just wait for them to leave. It''d set me back an hour or two, and killing them would cause whatever group they''re a part of to investigate.


    And that was if I was able to kill both without them being able to get a message back, which would set who knows how many more Abyssal''s on my tail.


    Then there was the off chance that they were looking for me, specifically. Which raised several concerning questions, such as ''how are they tracking me?'', and ''how do I avoid them?''. I didn''t want to put it down to simple luck. If I was having any luck right now, it would be misfortune.


    Did I try to wait them out? They didn''t look too land capable, jumping around like possessed dolphins from hell. But if they were scouts, then I sure didn''t want to be around for when the main force arrived.


    Before my brain could ramble on, listing off dozens of reasons as to why they were here and what I could do, the earth shook. I looked over at the destroyer pair, scowling. Alright, they knew I was here, and were trying to flush me out of hiding.


    Blasts rang up and down the treeline as high explosive shells rained down. Well, fine, if they wanted to play that game, I was more than willing to oblige. Rigging sprung forth, guns already moving into firing position.


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    Guns one and two, target the destroyer on the right. Three and four, you have the one on the left. Prepare high explosive rounds and wait for my mark.


    Wait? We don''t have high explosive rounds? High capacity and armor-piercing? Load the high capacity rounds then. Armor-piercing rounds would have been completely useless.


    Each gun lowered, lining up with their respective targets. I was a few hundred feet away from my targets. In naval engagements, that was like being close enough to spit on them. There was no way I could miss. Not at this range.


    "Fire!"


    On command, each of my batteries thundered to life, dispersing the jungle trees, sending their shells towards their respective targets. Instead of jumping in fright and going to cover my ears, as I had expected, I just grinned. There was satisfaction in firing my guns for the first time.


    I held a similar satisfaction watching the shells hit home. The first destroyer likely didn''t even have time to process it was under attack. Four confirmed hits and two misses were more than enough to send the abyssal craft to the bottom of the lagoon.


    Three, no, only two hits''s on the second. Reload! Reload!


    No, I wasn''t going to reload in time, the abyssal already turning to face my now exposed position. In a panic, I did the only thing I could think of. Duck.


    Barely in time, as I felt it''s retort shell brush past my hair, blasting the trees behind me into splinters of flaming wood, many of which attempted to stab into my backside.


    My return salvo obliterated it. All of my guns, trained on a lightly armored target? Still, that was too close for comfort. I''d rather not put my armor under a stress test this soon. OR at all.


    But it survived a few more seconds than I expected. Maybe it got off a distress signal. Maybe it didn''t.


    Either way, I wasn''t sticking around to find out.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Waves lapped at my boots, sea air winding its way through my hair. It felt nice, pleasant.


    Even if I was on the run from murder boats that I no idea if they knew of my existence or not.


    Alone on the open ocean, with nothing but my thoughts and my crew? It was strangely relaxing. Still, I kept my eyes on the sky, keeping watch for any signs of enemy aircraft. When I wasn''t doing that, I was avoiding looking down.


    Heights and I never exactly got along. Airplanes, I could handle. Standing over a drop with a glass bottom? No, keep me away from that.


    Oceans were deep. These plates sat at a lower elevation than their continental counterparts, due to their density. Outside of general problems with the dark and the fact we didn''t have much of our oceans explored, I hadn''t had an issue deep recesses of the ocean before.


    Not until now. Putting something solid beneath my feet made things worse. And who knew what was down there. Giant squids, Chuthulu, enemy subs.


    My hand went to my face, resulting in another meeting of metal to metal. Submarines. How did I forget about submarines! Sneaking snipers of the seas that could sink a vessel without anyone being aware of its presence. An absolute nightmare for any ship to face if on their lonesome.


    Which I very much was. Can someone check if I have sonar, please? Or anything else, for that matter?


    No sonar? That''s unfortunate. Depth charges? Good, I at least have those. It''s better than nothing, but unless I somehow end up right on top of a submarine without it trying to kill me first, it''s far from practical.


    Still, I wonder what they looked like?


    As if by command, a canister appeared in my hand. Unarmed, naturally. There was no need to waste it. It looked like a bomb, which, to be fair, it was. I looked at it for a moment, rotating the explosive in my grasp.


    Now that I thought about it, a depth charge wouldn''t serve too badly as a grenade in a pinch. Mental note put a pin in that. If nothing else, a depth charge going off in an abyssal''s face would be a decent distraction.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Maybe I should loop around towards Australia. That was my original plan after all, and there wasn''t anything to my south now. It would be simple to correct my course now, even if I either landed in the outback or had to circle the coast.


    I shuddered briefly, a tingle running down the back of my neck. As if by instinct, my head turned southward, my eyes squinting. Those were planes?


    Yes, they were! I could barely see them with my eyes, and my radar wasn''t giving me a clearer picture. I mean, I think it was my radar, don''t know what else it could be. Didn''t have much to practice my new senses on, I guess.


    So, what exactly was the protocol, here? Do I open radio contact? What codes did I use?


    And why were the dots on the horizon remaining that way?


    Yeah, those weren''t planes. Planes weren''t balls with teeth. How did they even, you know what, I''m not going to ask that. I''m a guy who''s turned into an anthropomorphized ship.


    I entered a turn, bringing myself about. Outrunning them was a useless notion, and I doubted the carrier they launched from would be close enough to provide further support. Time to show these abyssal''s why American anti-air is the best in the world!


    I better have good anti-air or that joke was going to be for nothing. Four Bofors? Four quad Bofors? Oh, I liked that.


    Sixteen guns worth of anti-air fire was nothing to scoff at, something the abyssal aircraft was finding out the hard way. Flak erupted from my rigging, filling the sky with gunfire, likely announcing my presence to whatever was in the area, if it wasn''t so already.


    What were the odds of a group of aircraft just showed up? Armed with what were either bombs or torpedoes. Yeah, no. Pretty sure dedicated scouting aircraft were a thing, so there would be no need to waste bombers and the like on scouting duties.


    I was betting on torpedo''s, honestly. The device strapped to the underside of each craft looked a bit too tubular to be a bomb.


    Rounds continued to explode in the sky above, a lucky hit sending a plane into the ocean with a massive splash. Still, they were splitting up. I wasn''t exactly an expert on naval warfare but still understood their intention. Catch me between two separate salvo''s of torpedoes, one on each of my flanks. Cut out my ability to maneuver, my greatest defense right now, and cripple me.


    Yeah, no, not letting that happen. I had tricks up my sleeve. I appointed a few spotters to track the primary group of planes, as I turned to face the already shot up group. Pushing forward, I kicked at the water, building up even more speed, doing my best to make myself a harder target.


    My anti-air continued to blast away, as I tried to angle myself so I could bring everything against the three dive bombers trying to strike at my port side.


    Make that two. Another was belching smoke, meaning it was only a shot or two from being blasted from the sky.


    Wait? Second group broke in half again? One wing coming in from the starboard and the other from my stern? Alright, bring about the starboard guns, try to throw off their aim. No, wait, shit, they had already launched their torpedoes, the aqueous missiles streaking through the water.


    Two more planes went up in flames, but not before releasing their payloads into the ocean waves. Okay, I didn''t want to do this, because I had no idea if it would work, but it was either that or get hit by a torpedo I had no way to shrug off.


    Panic rippled in my crew, as the water bond explosive sped closer and closer. As a ship, I had no idea how much I weighed. More than a hundred tons would be my guess. And my boilers and engines were enough to provide me with the strength to move that tonnage at a speed of 33 knots.


    That was a lot of horsepower. And I could support myself on dry land as well, without issue. Sure, that could be a shipgirl thing. But I didn''t think so.


    I was still human. And I still had legs.


    Muscles tightened, coiling together. Water erupted as I pushed off the ocean''s surface, leaping into the air. I spared a glance at my feet, as the torpedoes harmlessly passed beneath me. Oh, what money I would give, to see the look on the Abyssal pilot''s face.


    Then gravity decided to reinsert itself over the situation. My knees screamed in protest, nearly crumpling as they crashed foot first into the waves. It felt like I was kicking a rock, but at the same time, landing on a trampoline.


    Then I was spat back out, like a demented hundred thousand ton skipping stone. This. I knew how to fix this.


    I tucked in my head against my chest, a somewhat harder task than before, then slapped the water''s surface with my hands, partially killing my moment in my upper body. My legs, unhindered by this, continued to move as I swung them over my right shoulder.


    Jolts ran throughout my body as I killed off the last of my momentum, pulling my body completely upright. With a few seconds of arm flailing before I finally managed to get my balance.


    "Is everyone okay?" I shouted to my crew. It took a minute or two, but I eventually got crew lights all across the board. Nobody was injured too terribly.


    Still, note to self. Don''t jump the torpedo. That hurt more than it should have.


    I let my crew recover a few minutes longer as I watch the last of the bomber''s crash, slipping beneath the waves. They had come out of the south. Either there was a carrier out there or some type of land base. Neither of which I wanted to press. This incident proved that without support, I couldn''t reliably handle that many airplanes.


    I guess I was stuck heading west, then. I hoped the Philippines remained intact, or I was going to run into some serious problems.

 Chapter 3

    Captain''s Log


    Date: Unknown


    6:00 am: Wake up onboard a vessel. Location unknown, date unknown. The date shall be referred too as A for future logs. Roused and gathered crew, taking stock of the situation. Attempts to rouse vessel where meet with mediocre success. Class and identification number are unknown.


    8:00 am: Vessel becomes operational. Ship''s hull and internal structures appear to be fused with a woman. She appears to be the ship itself, and is incredibly confused about present events, as is the crew. Finally, the ship begins cruising North-Northeast. Speed, 20 knots.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+1


    1:35 am: Land is found after an uneventful voyage. Attempts to stop the woman before she beached herself failed. The crew has discovered that the vessel is now land capable.


    1:56 am: Armor-piercing shell is nearly discharged at a spider. Vessel retreats to the beach. Watch is set up while both the vessel and crew sleep.


    7:00 am: Vessel wakens, throwing a large crustation that grappled itself to her face. The night watch was unable to dislodge the creature. Shortly thereafter, she enters the jungle. She managed to diminish her armaments to make treating through the jungle easier.


    1:06 pm: Village is found. Damage is moderate to heavy, though it is unknown whether the worst was due to combat or natural degradation. Vessel begins looking for supplies and other items


    2:31 pm: Food is discovered and eaten. Vessel sees an increase in our food storage, mostly in tomatoes.


    3:09 pm: Ship begins to search for maps or any other documentation. This effort would prove useful in discovering our present location.


    7:35 pm: Hole is put through the wall. Vessel possesses beyond human strength.


    7:39 pm: Map''s are uncovered. Based on navigation''s best estimates we are in the pacific theater, along the outer edge of the Caroline Islands. The current political state of the world is unknown. Last I remember, the war had long since passed, but these are abnormal circumstances. We must be prepared for anything.


    8:00 pm: Vessel suffers a mental break down before passing out. Appears to have memories of a previous life. Concern runs high among the crew.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+2


    8:36 am: Vessel and crew awaken. Hostile encountered nearby. Vessel calls it an Abssyal, and herself a shipgirl. The name fits. She waits for hostile to leave before making her way to the shoreline.


    9:07 am: Abnormal weather pattern spotted. Shipgirl believes it is caused by Abyssal influence. The original plan is scrapped, preparing to head east to meet up with the fleet at Pearl Harbor.


    9:10 am: Plan B is also scrapped, as a second fleet is between us and Pearl Harbor. Both clouds seem to be heading our direction. Retreat recommended, whether we are compromised or not.


    12:30 pm: Crew engages with the vessel throughout the day. She helps to keep her distracted from things she doesn''t want to think about while also giving her someone to talk too.


    3:04 pm: Crew member manifests outside the ship for the first time, resulting in one overboard member that was swiftly picked up by the vessel. The crew has considered taking her up on this club offer.


    6:10 pm: Landfall is made. Vessel beings searching for a food source immediately. Nourishment is found shortly thereafter, leading to a sizable increase to stores.


    7:30 pm: Cave is found, suitable protection from the elements. Vessel hunkers down for the night.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+3


    8:00 am: Vessel awakens, ingesting more provisions before heading to the shoreline.


    8:35 am: Enemy elements encountered. Two scouting vessels, likely some form of an unknown twisted destroyer. Both are eliminated without direct damage, though there is a risk our position has become compromised. As such, we flee westward.


    12:09 pm: Vessel has an idea about using depth charges as makeshift grenades. This has potential but is unlikely to do much against more heavily armored ships.


    4:37 pm: Aircraft are spotted. It is first believed to be allied aircraft, however, it is swiftly revealed to be an Abssyal air attack. The air wing was destroyed, but the vessel engaged in a risky maneuver.


    9:47 pm: We arrive on land, and damage control is allowed to examine the exterior of the hull. Damage is minimal, but present, mostly contained bellow the waterline. Hardest hit was the rudder. While it remains completely operational, a good hit will cause more harm to structural integrity than it should. Damage teams will attempt to fix this issue throughout the night.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+4


    7:00 am: Repairs are as complete as they''re going to get. Food supply is further bolstered. The rest of the day remains uneventful sailing.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+5


    8:09 am: Another Abssyal is spotted near shore. Alone, akin to one of the first we saw. Another land-based ambush killed the creature, though it was able to land a much more accurate return salvo, before being sunk. We can now undoubtedly confirm our vessel''s armor is quite light. Damage is, quite thankfully, minimal.


    12:07 pm: Potential submarine spotted. The crew set to high alert, as is the vessel.


    6:08 pm: Everyone is taken off high alert due to a lack of submarine action. The vessel remains paranoid that a submarine may still strike.


    7:00 pm: Land is found. The vessel is quite pleased that she does not need to spend her night out on the open waves.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+6


    9:08 am: Vessel was late to leave the island due to scavenging runs beforehand. Still, whatever supplies we can find, we''ll take.


    1:05 pm: Some of the crew found a plane hanger, alongside equipment for a catapult to launch aircraft from. Having eyes in the sky would be a blessing right now. Currently sent teams to get it set up.


    6:09 pm: Catapult is completed around the same time we reach land. The test flight will be taken tomorrow.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+7


    8:05 am: Catapult does not appear upon rigging. Plane merely appears in the vessel''s hand.


    8:25 am: Plane is thrown by a frustrated vessel. Success?


    8:30 am: Plane is airborne.


    Captain''s Log


    Date: A+8


    One more day until we reach the Philippines.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    We were so fucked. If it wasn''t for the spotter plane that my crew finally got operational, I would have sailed our ass into a trap. Nearly twenty Abyssal''s hung just offshore of my landing zone. The only mercy is that they lacked a dedicated carrier.


    Beyond the sheer numbers arrayed against me, was the figure at the center of the formation. I didn''t know much about individual Abyssal classes when it came to ships. But this? This one I knew through reputation. An aviation battleship. A Re-class.


    A nearly unstoppable unit. Torpedoes, battleship sized guns, airplanes, the whole circus. The strengths of a carrier and a battleship with none of the weaknesses. Fighting that was not just beyond my weight class, it was beyond that of entire fleets, from what I heard.


    I didn''t know if that''s how it was in reality, but regardless. I wasn''t a Taffy, and there was nothing me retreating would risk. But where? There was another, much smaller fleet I had spotted, and while they looked beat up, attacking a larger force was simply a bad idea. A pincer movement to cut off my retreat back west.


    Air raids were still coming from a southern direction, either suggesting carriers, or worst, some type of land base. If that was the case, it wouldn''t be too much a stretch to think Papua New Guinea had fallen. Worst case scenario, even Australia.


    Which left one option. Go north across the Philippine Sea, towards the island chain between Tawain and Japan. However, that would put me on the open sea. I would be run down by destroyers before having to deal with whatever else was out there.


    To quote one of the three cyclopes I was familiar with, we were on a hell ride without a paddle.


    Yeah, the situation was that bad. Well, I could move the landing zone northward, and make a break towards the inland. Sure, it was Abssyal territory as well, if that fleet was anything to go by. But as a human, I gave myself better odds on land. Terrain, concealment, and ambushes. Marginally better odds, but I''d take it.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    After short steam northward, which would have put me out of the fleet''s detection range, I launched another scout plane. Just to be safe, as a lack of information is what landed me in this situation, and I wasn''t about to repeat the same mistake twice.


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    A choice that paid off, because the entire Abssyal flotilla also moved northward. Which meant one thing.


    They had eyes on me. Airplanes had already been ruled out, which meant one thing. A submarine. Of course, why didn''t they just sink me? Sure, I could evade a torpedo I was aware of, but it was a submarine. They were good at remaining undetected. I knew I should have pushed more with that sighting.


    Still, this was bad. Very bad. I was caught between several rocks, with my ass being tailed by something I couldn''t see nor actively fight against. With that thing feeding Abyssal''s information about my location, there was no way in hell I could simply hole up on an island, for they''d know exactly which island I was on.


    I turned somewhat inward, trying to get in tune with my internal sense. My crew. They were just as frustrated as I was. We had been played, and hard. I was out of my depth, and so were they.


    My eyes flickered over to the radio. I had ordered that silence be maintained. If Abyssal''s could listen in, then I''d have my location pinned down for anyone to find.


    However, my location was already compromised. So what was the harm of hitting the bright red panic button? If I served long enough, and my transmission was heard, then there was a chance at rescue. Sure, they might not decide one light cruiser was worth the effort.


    But if I didn''t take this risk, then I was likely dead meat anyway.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I don''t think static is supposed to sound like people moaning and screaming in pain. But Abssyal bullshit was likely responsible. Can we get the signal across without it being corrupted? Not picked up, that''s a given. But I want it as whole and complete as possible. That is the most likely way to get people to pull our ass out of the fire.


    Okay? Good. We have our lives riding on this. I cannot stress enough that the events of the next few hours will determine whether we live or die. Are we live with this?


    Oh, God, what were the proper protocols for this? I had no idea. Shit, I needed to start speaking or I was going to sound like an idiot!


    "This is a USS cruiser speaking. I''m currently 20 miles off the coast of the Philippine at islands and caught between two Abyssal groups. I will make a break towards land, trying to make my way as far north as possible before making landfall. I have no idea as too my identification number or class. My current location is around 13 degrees north and 127 degrees east."


    I repeated the message three times, before sending out a short SOS burst. I hope I didn''t stutter or otherwise screw things up. Hell, I didn''t even think of adding in my coordinates until the last minute.


    Who was I kidding? I probably forgot something. At least I attempted to sound professional. Now?


    I found myself needing to steady my breath. I was about to be sailing into the first actual naval battle I ever had. One where I was impossibly outnumbered, outgunned, and outranged.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    My scream of pain was drowned out by gunfire, my leg nearly giving out completely as an armor-piercing round drilled through it. My guns returned fire, sending my shells at the larger cruiser. A handful of penetrations got the message across as it banked away smoking.


    Another shot, this one exploding as it impacted my stomach caused me to lurch gritting my teeth through the pain. Shit! Guns, reload, and fire! Another salvo obliterated the destroyer, but with my shells spent, it''s friend leaped toward me, fangs bared. It was a miracle that my fist connected with its stomach, knocking back into the water.


    Everything hurt. Boilers screamed in strain, as shells continued to rain down around me. I tried to weave and bob around, moving erratically to through off their aim. But if you threw enough shit at a wall, eventually, something would end up sticking.


    I couldn''t take much more of this. But I was so close to land! I didn''t come this far to give up now!


    Water erupted right in front of me, a geyser of saltwater that caused me to swerve around. Another high explosive shell slammed into me as I turned, and this time, I scream. My body gave out, crashing onto the water''s surface.


    My head screamed in agony, as every functioning part of my brain shouted at me to get up! Another geyser covered my prone form, giving me precious seconds to pull myself back up to my feet. I needed to move! Get to cover!


    Explosions signaled my own guns retort, though I saw every shot go completely wide. Damnit! Not now! Just a few more meters! Come on!


    My feet meet sand, a brief kiss before I broke off running towards the treeline, shots thundering in return. Just as I managed to break through the tree line, I felt a crack run through my body.


    Pain.


    Then nothing.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    When I finally came too, it was with a groan. Everything hurt. Slowly, but surely, I began pushing myself up, trying to take stock of my surroundings. What happened? The last thing I remember was a pain, and, nothing.


    Did I blackout? Where was I? Had I been captured?


    My head was about to whip around wildly, only to stop from a hammering inside my skull.


    Okay, ow, I get your point! I''m laying back down! Just get me damage control!


    I closed my eyes laying back down against the cool stone.


    The good news was, I wasn''t dead. The bad news? I should be.


    There was damage all across my hull and superstructure. Dozens, if not hundreds of rents and tears from shells, one of which even scrapped by one of my boilers, damaging it and forcing my crew to shut it down for repairs.


    My radar and battery directors? They could be simply described as FUBAR. The high explosive shell that caught me in the face took down everything! I couldn''t hit the broad side of a barn now.


    Then there was the hit that could have killed if the shell had gone off. An armor-piercing shell punctured into my forwardmost turret. My crew was currently trying to disarm then dislodge the shell, but I wasn''t going to be able to use it. The damage was too extensive for it to be even remotely safe. Hell, could they even repair it? I didn''t want to be fighting with a quarter of my firepower missing!


    I probably shouldn''t be fighting at all. Not in this shape. I couldn''t flee either. Not with a boiler down.


    It took a few moments to feel the faint shaking of the earth. Shell''s were falling somewhere in the distance, probably trying to flush me out. How far were we from the shoreline, anyway?


    Really? How did I manage to crawl that far? Hopefully, I didn''t get any infections from dragging my semi-conscious bleeding body across the jungle floor. Yes, I know ships can''t get infections, but ships can''t jump either. Yeah, that''s what I thought.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    It took a few hours, but finally, the shell was dislodged, and I was able to see the damage for myself. I didn''t know what I was expecting, but that confirmed it. Completely unusable, and I didn''t think we could repair it.


    Could we repair it? No. Okay. If that''s the case, scrap it. Use the metal it has to act as a patch job. Sure, it sucks, but it''s better than nothing. Other than that, try to get the battery director on the stern operational.


    I don''t care if you have to salvage the other director and the radar to do it. Lastly, get that boiler up and running. The sooner the better. If that transmission didn''t get through, no wait transmissions?


    Did you launch multiple? Okay, that''s fine, I guess.


    Back on topic, downed boiler, up and running. If the transmission failed or got intercepted, then we needed to run. Run like hell, and we needed every ounce of speed. We can''t do that with our speed cut.


    But I was alive. A miracle, but I wasn''t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Not this time. I''m unsure how I managed to evade shots from those¡­


    She hadn''t fired a single shot. The battleship hadn''t sent a single shell at me. No, that couldn''t be right. I was out of her range, or something. Yeah, that was it.


    Okay, I was lying to myself. I''d kept an eye on her to the best of my ability. I was well within her range. If she didn''t fire, it was on purpose. And that left me with a single disturbing question.


    Why?

 Chapter 4

    It took a while for me to finally adjust the balance of my leg, accounting for the hole punched through it. Even with it being patched over with metal from one of my main guns, walking on it stung. Ignoring the dull ache of pain, I pull myself out of the cave I had managed to crawl to. I wouldn''t call it mountainous, but it still gave me a good overview of the terrain. Part of the jungle was a flaming mess, likely a result of Abyssal shelling, which seemed to have moved Southward for some reason.


    Had I been overly cautious? Was Abyssals unable to track and pick up radio signals? No, that didn''t make sense. Knowing my luck, it had something to do with that aviation battleship. What was with that thing, anyway? To my knowledge, Abyssals were little better than rabid animals, attempting to kill all of humanity.


    Of course, my knowledge on the matter was sparse. Quite sparse. It wasn''t like there was a lot to go off of, but still.


    But it was only going to be a matter of time before they head inland to find me. And I intend to make full use out of any head start I could get.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Yeah, this was going to bother me. The space on my rigging continued to draw my eye. I hadn''t been aware of it before, but the weight was now gone. A faint flicker of what was once there remained, but that was it.


    It just felt wrong, like I was off balance. My gun layout was pretty much symmetrical, and now it wasn''t.


    This really shouldn''t be getting under my skin as much as it was.


    Of course, I could just be distracting myself from the jungle. This wasn''t getting any easier.


    Were we still moving eastward? Good. The sooner I was out of shelling range, the safer I''d feel.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Another abandoned village. More beat up and ransacked than the one I encountered last week. Most buildings were flattened, nothing more than piles of bricks, mortar, steel, and wood. What remained intact was in such a state of disrepair that it would likely collapse on me if I tried to enter.


    Finding food wasn''t going well either. Maybe the Abbysal''s had picked the area clean. I mean, they did need to eat, or at least I hoped they did. I might have to try hunting, something I was relucent to do, as I doubted I could start a fire easily, without giving away my location.


    Maybe there was something left in the rusting tank that was crashed into a building. Not exactly sure what the model was, I knew next to nothing about military tanks, but maybe there was something intact I could make use of.


    Making my way in was simple enough, though I tried to pull apart the rusting metal armor as silently as I could manage. Which was to say, not at all. Hopefully, the trees could muffle the sound to an extent.


    It took seconds to bend the armor in my bare hands, creating an entrance for me to slip through. Though I had to dismiss my rigging to do so, it was still a tight fit. After a short sensation of the grinding of metal against metal, I was inside.


    Dang. This was cramped, even with me feeling like I''d lost a few inches. So this was the interior of a tank. Light trickled in through multiple holes, likely punched in by Abyssal shells. But it gave me enough light to see.


    To say it was a mess would be an understatement. Nothing appeared to be intact, let alone salvageable. Water had run its course throughout the machine. Still, this made for a half-decent place to hide. Who would think they would find a ship inside a tank?


    Maybe if it was a bit further away from the shoreline. Or thicker armor. Because no matter how cool it was, it was little more than a metal deathtrap.


    A grumble from my stomach broke me out of my thoughts. Yes stomach, I hear you. I know you''re hungry.


    Maybe there was still something left behind that I could use. They had to keep some food in here, right? Where would they keep it? I began to fiddle around, attempting to grab anything that could be considered a cabinet, container, or the like.


    Nothing. Yeah, I should have expected that. Maybe down here?


    Nope. I''m pretty sure I just found the engine block. It looked fairly untouched, too.


    ¡­ No. Absolutely not. It''s an engine!


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    It was a very tasty engine.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Okay, yeah, that''s a thing now. I could eat metal.


    Wait? That''s, that''s just dumb. How does that even work? How does eating metal create scrap metal for my crew to use?


    Know what? I''m done. None of this makes sense and I''m just going to have to adapt to the insanity. I''m just happy I could use the metal as a way to stave off hunger.


    It took a few moments to pull my way from the armored vehicle, ignoring the grinding feeling of metal against metal. Should have created a bigger hole. With my armor the way it is right now, I shouldn''t be trying to make things worse.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I hate the jungle. I hate all the spiders, all the insects, all the humidity, and all this damn heat! But most of all, I hate these stupid vines! I violently threw another bunch of grasping, hanging plants from my rigging.


    I''d like to put it away, but I had no idea how far Abyssals could get inland. Until I did, until I was certain I was safe, but all my guns were remaining out and ready. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I''d taken enough risks with charging that line of guns in the first place. Nothing more, until I got into contact with some friendlies.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Movement. I froze, keeping myself shrouded in the trees. Abyssal? Wild animal? My guns lowered, preparing to fire.


    Panting breath reached my ear. The patter of a pair of feet against the earth.


    A child?


    I blinked, watching a young girl push her way through the underbrush in panic, clearly fleeing from something.


    Yeah, this confirmed it. Something screwy was going on here. What few villages I came across had been leveled years before now. I wouldn''t put it past some humans to remain. We were a stubborn and adaptable lot, after all. But Abyssal''s would likely attempt to scour the island for survivors to torment and kill.


    Hot on the girl''s heels was a nightmare black creature, bounding along the ground on four stubby legs that were not intended to traverse over land.


    Alright, me and my big mouth. It didn''t take a genius to figure out where this was going. Suddenly, the girl tripped over a root, falling to the ground in a heap.


    My guns aimed, and fired, jungle erupting in flames and gunpowder. Nine shells tore through the Abyssal at near point-blank range, turning it into a smoldering wreck. With the immediate threat dispelled, I moved towards the child, slowly. She was scared, frightened. Any hostile movement could cause her to run off.


    Taking care to make sure my armaments were facing away from her, I reached down slowly, as if to help her up. She blinked at my hand like it was something she hadn''t seen before, as her eyes began to trace it back to the rest of my body.


    Then her face contorted into something that could only be described as complete terror, and she started screaming again. Startled by the sudden noise, I lept backward, as she pointed her finger at me. She shouted something at me and a language I couldn''t understand, before taking off in a run.


    Before I could so much as blink, she was back in the underbrush. Great. There went talking this out like civilized human beings, violently pitched out the window. Still, if there was one destroyer, there could be more. Beating feet was probably far from a terrible idea.


    Besides, I couldn''t look that bad, right?


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I heard the sound of water flowing over stone before I saw it, but it was like music to my ears. Freshwater. No, I don''t think you understand. It''s freshwater! Sure, I couldn''t purify it, but it was something! Plus, I would be able to see my reflection, maybe even clean myself! This was perfect! Now all I had to do was follow the noise! I hadn''t heard any sign of the bombardment returning either!


    Maybe things were looking up!


    Then I fell into the river.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    It took longer for me to fish myself out of the water than I''d care to admit. I mean, I was an ocean-going vessel, but my rigging was barely able to keep me on the surface. My foot spent several minutes scraping the bottom, while the other was half submerged.


    This better just be a problem with freshwater, because my crew was telling me I was still capable of sailing on the open ocean. Or just me falling and stumbling in.


    My hair splattered against my face as I shook it, a desperate and futile attempt to dry it out. Why had my hair retained its ability to keep water? Damn, I was going to have to dry out everything! Just what I needed right now!


    Well, if I''m here, I might as well see how bad I look. I mean it can''t be, oh dear. I looked worse than I thought. Like dead women walking worse. No wonder that child ran away from me in fear.


    The left side of my forehead was a combination of blood, burns, and scars. My shirt was torn apart, leaving my stomach exposed to the air. Something that might be impressive, if it wasn''t for the fact my exposed skin was nothing more than an amalgamation of scorch marks. Arms and legs? Covered in scratches, light burns, and of course, the giant hole in my leg. Which was still raw.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    And that was after my dip in the bath eradicated half my weight in blood, dirt, grim, and dried salt. I''ll continue downstream little ways. Maybe I''ll find some shelter and a place to dry my clothes. Or better yet, a change of clothes.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Caves. Bless them. Truly. They gave me a roof over my head, at least some measure of defense against aerial strikes and bombardments, and I wasn''t exposed as much to the elements.


    My clothing though. Lighting a fire was a bit risky. Even if I''d evaded detection thus far, drawing their eye in any meaningful capacity would be bad. I don''t know if they were still going southward, or had stopped entirely. Which meant no fires, no smoke.


    But I was creative. Sun-drying them on a rock, while not optimal, was perfectly functional, and it fit my needs. Still, I was probably going to have to replace them at some point. Especially the skirt. Right now it had more in common with Swiss cheese than it did an article of clothing.


    There was another reason I chose this location. Not too far away, there as a large plantation of pineapples. And I mean, there were a lot of them. Overgrown. Just everywhere. A source of food, and shelter to boot. Here, I could camp out until Abyssal''s give me a reason to leave or I get in contact with whoever might be trying to bail me out of this situation.


    Not a bad place to hunker down.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    The sun had done its job perfectly. Almost too perfectly. I barely managed to get my freshly dried clothes into the cave before they got returned to soaking by a rainstorm.


    Warm clothes weren''t exactly what I''d like right about now, but I''d take it. Much better than the alternative.


    ¡­


    I don''t know how to properly put on a skirt.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I hate clothing!


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Pineapples were weird. Just weird. They''re called apples, which grow on trees, so pineapples should be the same, right? Reality is often disappointing like that.


    I mean, I knew this. Saw a pineapple plantation in Hawaii. Still, it was just one of those incredibly dumb things that wouldn''t just leave me alone at times.


    Nor were these damn things easy to eat! The skin was a prickly mess that I did my best to avoid touching before this, so I had little idea on how to handle them. If I had a knife, then maybe.


    Damnit, guys. Really? You''ve been holding this out on me? I tried to do my best-annoyed glare at my crew, only for them to chuckle at me. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when that gift is a knife. Doubt it''s one from the mess if that''s how it works. Time to get skinning.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Juice filled my mouth as I dug in. Had I been this disgustingly picky in the past?


    That feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder how.


    No. Brain. Stop. Just because I can relax a bit, doesn''t mean you can do something like this. I, I don''t want to think about home right now.


    A sharp crack made it''s way to my ears, my guns turning around towards the noise, with me taking a defensive stance, bouncing on my feet. Abyssal? No, no, I''d be under fire already. Then again, there was the thing with the battleship having me stalked on the open ocean. Why wouldn''t she attempt to do the same here?


    It worked once before. All the more reason to try it again. Probably would have fallen for it, too.


    However, I wasn''t going to open fire right away. A child was running around, after all, and I wasn''t going to just start blasting wildly. Sure, something could have happened to her, but I wasn''t going to gamble. Not on someone''s life.


    Quietly, I moved towards the source of the noise. Inching forward, slowly, carefully. If it was an Abssyal, it would realize it had two options. Open fire or die. If it wasn''t? Well, I was trying to keep myself as non-threatening as possible. A difficult task, with guns like mine, but I gave my best calming smile.


    Slowly I pulled back on the underbrush, as a small child scuttled out of her hiding place, running her back into a tree. This is the first time I''d gotten a look at her. Her hair was a mess, a long tangled mass of black curls, with twigs and leaves sticking out of it. Cuts, bruises, and lacerations covered a concerning portion of her body. I''m not sure how the girl was able to move, let alone have not passed out from blood loss. Clothing? Little more than rags. And I thought I was lacking.


    She continued to panic and scream, backing away from me. Whatever had happened to her, she''d had to have been through a lot. There was no doubt in my mind that Abyssal''s were responsible for the torments she had faced. Even if I didn''t understand how, or why.


    I wanted to help her. She is a child, for Pete''s sake.


    "I''m not going to hurt you," I spoke, holding out my hand. Could she understand me? It might be a forlorn hope that she understood me, but I had nothing else. My track record with foreign languages was abysmal. If she couldn''t understand English, then American Sign Language was going to be just as useless.


    "You aren''t an Abyssal?" her voice was faint, rasping from what I could only assume was exhaustion.


    "No. I''m not," I spoke gently, trying to give my best impression of maternal instincts. I''m probably failing. Usually, I''m great around kids. But she isn''t normal, is she? She''s likely been through hell.


    "What''s your name? Abyssal''s don''t have names," she crossed her arms, glaring at me angrily. Well. Shit. I didn''t have a name. I knew I was a cruiser, likely a light cruiser, of the USN. That meant I would have been named after a city. Alright, think! Which cities weren''t used as names for ships during the Second World War? Kansas City? No, I''m pretty sure that was an unfinished heavy cruiser. St. Louis? No, she was built. I kept going through every major city I could think of.


    Salt Lake? Taken. Helena? Nope. Cleveland? Surely you jest.


    Wait, no. Fuck that. Sure, the US military could call me whatever they damn well pleased. But I wasn''t confined to such a naming scheme, at least, not here. I could choose my name! One that honored my previous one. Because going by my birth name was going to raise questions I didn''t want to ask myself.


    "Please, call me Isabell."


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    She had to admit. Corralling the Kanmusu here was not part of her original plan. A lone Kanmusu, while interesting, wasn''t worth the resources spent, even if she could get information from it or use it as bait. While alone cruiser was odd, they functioned as scouts. No harm, no foul. Nothing too abnormal.


    That was at first glance. She was weak. Extremely.


    Not in a physical sense. The Kanmusu had sunk three of her light cruisers, twice that number of destroyers, and maimed a heavy cruiser to a point where she had been forced to scrap it. Sure, that was over a week, but for an unbuilt ship, it was quite impressive.


    Yes, the Kanmusu had never been built. She trusted the reports from her subordinates but had confirmed it with her own eyes. What spiritual weight the Kanmusu had was barely there. Faint, hardly more than a shade. It shouldn''t have been able to manifest at all. She couldn''t exactly describe what happened either.


    It was if the Kanmusu''s spirit found an anchor. A way to latch onto the physical world, but means of connecting to another soul.


    An interesting phenomenon. If she could observe it, monitor it, found out how such a thing worked, how it functioned? Control it? Remake it? The connection was getting stronger, and eventually, there would be no difference.


    But instead of bringing back Kanmusu, instead, taint it with the Abyss? Hundreds of Abyssal''s, raging against the world, at a world that never let them become built? All at her command?


    She could only imagine the bloodshed that would be unleashed. It filled her heart with dark glee.


    "Ma''am!" And with one word, her fantasies were interrupted. She scowled, forcing herself to remember her restraint. She got this far with her brain, by ignoring the simple instinct to slaughter any human or Kanmusu she came across. There was a reason SHE ruled these islands, rather than the Princess that had claimed them before.


    "What is it?" she spoke, looking down at the small cruiser.


    "One of the experiments has escaped," the aviation carrier scowled.


    "You''re going to have to be more specific than that," even with her instincts under tight control, wasting time was something she had little patience for.


    "The one summoned by the slaves, Ma''am," she blinked. Oh, that one. After many failings to summon a Kanmusu in an attempt to corrupt them, she decided to subtly give the human slaves knowledge of how to perform the ritual.


    It had succeeded, though the test subject was less than wanting. Didn''t even get a destroyer out of it. All they got was a Patrol boat. Hardly armed or armored, they''d thrown her in with the rest of the slaves.


    No matter. She''d either die from starvation or get killed by a patrol. Even if she meets the cruiser, what good would that do? Even if the Japanese and Americans came, there was nothing they could do.


    She was so close.

 Chapter 5

    *One day prior*


    The Sasebo naval base was bustling with activity. After the onset of the Abyssal war, the base saw a ballooning of activity, much like every other surviving naval base in the world. Numerous vessels, girl or otherwise, made their home here, acting as a defense force for the entire Kyushu region. Thousands of sailors, cooks, and other personnel did everything in their power to keep things running as smoothly as possible.


    Given the number of shipgirl''s from Japan and America, that could sometimes be, problematic. While there was occasionally some hostility when a shipgirl was newly summoned, it swiftly defused.


    No, what was more common than not the primary source of chaos, besides shipgirls doing shipgirl things, were prank wars.


    The most recent of which had delayed the delivery of an intelligence report as the light cruiser had to find her way around the carriage. If what she held was accurate then something needed to be done at once.


    "Admiral?" she knocked lightly on the door, finally arriving at her destination. She shifted on her feet, an action she knew wasn''t like her. This was being nervous? It was a foreign feeling to her. Perhaps, given the circumstances, it was warranted. A fellow shipgirl, trapped behind Abyssal lines?


    She did not have the power to organize a scouting party to investigate the matter. The Admiral?


    He could.


    "Enter," Admiral Richardson spoke, as she made her way through the door.


    "I brought the most recent report from intelligence, as you requested," she put the large folder on his desk, shifting slightly.


    "Is something wrong, Seattle?" Richardson frowned. Seattle was generally happy, a social butterfly in almost all respects. Her personality might seem like a hindrance to her duties, but Seattle often turned them into a boon.


    "There appears to be a distress signal coming out of the Philipines, Admiral, on pages seven, nine, and ten," she spoke softly, again, very much unlike her loud and cheerful self. "If the sender is to be believed, then there is a shipgirl trapped behind enemy lines."


    That got his attention, raising several questions in the process. Flipping through the report, he found the transcripts of the distress call. He frowned. His first impression was some sort of prank made in poor taste. The Philippines had been solidly in Abyssal hands for three years, though they had been making headway. For a craft to be talking over open channels nor able to give her name to be just off the coast?


    That raised a few red flags. A shipgirl being unable to recall their names was an extraordinarily rare event. Not unheard of, though. Often associated with ships that were never given names in the first place, or simply never built.


    Or cases like Seattle, who never had a name in the first place.


    But what had the ship been doing out there? There were simply too many blanks left unexplained.


    Then came the second set. Nearly a whole hour of screams, shouts, swearing, and gunfire. The message was punctuated by a notable scream before cutting to a repeated S-O-S.


    "Did any part of her message indicate what she was doing out there?" he asked, finally looking up from the report.


    "No sir. She did not," Seattle was keeping herself unnaturally still while he read.


    "Any hypothesis, then?" Richardson watched his secretary nod.


    "Yes sir. I believe the shipgirl in question is a Natural Summon," that took Richardson aback in surprise. A Natural Summon? One of those hadn''t occurred in the past two years. They were some of the first back, the likes of Enterprise, Yamato, Bismark, and Hood. Ships with long storied histories and were renown throughout the world. Come back to defend humanity in one of its darkest hours.


    Most of them were clustered towards the start of the war, though it wasn''t unheard that for one to appear along an unprotected stretch of coastline as an Abyssal force was about to make landfall.


    If this was a natural summon, that raised several questions. Concerning ones. And to get answers, they needed her back.


    There was just one issue. The Philippines. They had been making headway in the region, having freed up Taiwan just a few years prior. Sure, Taiwan had become more of an outpost for the time being, but progress had stalled after an Abyssal fleet launched an attack against the Philippine Islands.


    Infighting between Abyssals was quite common, and as a result, exploitable. However, rather than using the island as a means to attack holdings, instead, the new group dug in. Hard. While there had been talks for an assault, nothing had been authorized. This combined with other, more concerning threats, had forced them down the pile.


    Even though the uncharacteristic behavior was quite worrying.


    "Seattle," He looked up, noticing that the normally energetic girl was nearly completely still. Even in times when most would feel fear, anger, or any other negative emotions, Seattle didn''t.


    "Yes sir?" She inclined her head to the side, looking at him with odd eyes, that lacked their usual sparkle.


    "What submarines do we have on base at the moment? Scouting the area for more information would prove beneficial to the rescue effort," Richardson watched Seattle go from melancholic to gleeful in but a mear moment, rushing over to her desk, flipping through a neat stack of papers that he would pretend wasn''t full of party invitations.


    "Mackerel is currently on base, awaiting assignment," she said, pausing for a moment.


    "That''s all? I''m fairly certain I-402 is present as well, unless she''s off visiting her sisters," Richardson frowned. No, he was certain the Japanese aviation submarine was on base.


    "She just finished training sir. " Seattle had a point. "Plus, you know how Mackeral can be sometimes. On both accounts, I don''t think I would recommend sending the two of them together. They''d clash too much."


    I-402 was one of the base''s most recent returnees. Why she didn''t appear in Yokosuka, with her two sisters was unknown. Richardson had a few suspicions on the matter, but that was neither here nor there.


    "Mackerel has no means to recon inland areas safely. I-402 can. I could make contact with Yokosuka, but there is no guarantee either of her sisters are there right now. It''s not a perfect option, but it''s the best we have," Richardson sighed. I-402 was the best option they had on hand for this mission. He didn''t want to send her alone, either. He''d sooner choose any other submarine than Mackerel for this, but he didn''t have a choice. It was either that or send the aviation sub alone.


    "I understand sir. Should I get in touch with them?" Seattle beamed, turning around with a small stack of paper in her hands. Richardson frowned. As much as he would like to have her send the two out first hand, he knew the next few hours were going to be even busier than normal.


    "No, send work to South Dakota of what''s happening. She''ll handle the briefing. You and I will be quite busy," Richardson nodded up at his subordinate.


    "Yes sir. I''ll be back momentarily," Seattle closed the door gently behind her, and Richardson heard clicks of her footfalls down the hall.


    Now, how many phone calls was he going to have to make?


    And why did he have the sinking suspicion that Seattle was going to throw a party for this new girl the moment she stepped onto base?


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    This child was putting away food like mad. Seriously! I thought I ate like something out of a cartoon, but she was making look like a slow and measured eater!


    One should not be able to shove an entire pineapple into their mouth, but she was somehow doing so without breaking her jaw.


    Or was this simply because I couldn''t see myself wolf down food, so seeing someone else do so just looked weird. Speaking of which, why hadn''t she stopped yet?


    I understood being malnourished. I understood puberty. But this? This went beyond that. It had too. Was it possible?


    That she was a shipgirl?


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    I looked at her again. Way too small to be anything larger than a Destroyer. Destroyer''s tended to look like children in Kancolle, I do recall. Act like them, too.


    Of course, without seeing any rigging or other armaments, I wouldn''t be able to say for certain. Unless she told me otherwise.


    Still, that wasn''t the only thing screwy going on here. I was far too busy dealing with the child I now had on my hands, so I hadn''t noticed the change immediately. Part of my skirt had repaired itself. It was still far from pristine, but some dirt was now gone, some holes stitched together.


    Underneath the USS, which had once been baren, were now filled with letters.


    Isabella.


    Had I named myself? What was the naval term? Christening? No, that wasn''t it. That was smashing the champagne bottle against the hull of a ship or something like that.


    Yeah, not the dumbest thing that has happened over the past week. But was there a town called Isabella in the first place?


    Probably. The US was a large place, and no small portion of it had been ruled by Spain in the past.


    Wait? Had I just caused a diplomatic incident by accidentally naming myself after the Queen of Spain?


    "There wasn''t an Isabell during the war," I looked down at the small girl, her finally speaking for the first time since she started eating. Yeah, here came the awkward questions I didn''t have the answers too.


    "I don''t think I was ever built," I frowned, wanting to break eye contact. That made the most sense. My captain had no idea what ship I was, or could even identify my class. And unless my human memories were completely blocking out my ship ones, I couldn''t recall any time spent as a vessel.


    "That can happen?" she blinked, before returning to her meal at a more reserved pace.


    "So, what about you?" I asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. That was not the right question to ask though. She just stopped, midway through shoveling another slice of pineapple into her mouth. Oh god, I hit the wrong button.


    "You don''t need to tell me if you don''t want to!" I waved my hands in panic, hoping to prevent another sobbing fit.


    "I''m unworthy of my name," I barely picked up her voice, it has dropped to the faintest of whispers, pineapple now forgotten. "I was built to, to defend these islands and her people. We fought as long as we could. But we could only run, in the end. Then, then!"


    Her voice cracked, breaking apart into screams of sorrow and tears. Okay, okay, breathe. I had a screaming child on my hands, who was mourning the loss something, and if I had to guess, that something was her family. In a panic, I did the only thing I could think of.


    My arms wrapped around her shaking frame, encircling her in a warm embrace. She froze for a moment as if to recoil from my touch. Then, she just began to sob more.


    I held on. Until her tears finally stopped.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Shiho looked around the room. Was, was she in trouble? She hadn''t done anything wrong. So why was she in the same room as her?


    Shiho''s eyes shifted across the room, landing on another girl with dyed blue hair, with faint red tips sticking out. Mackerel. Her gaze immediately retreated, squeezing the plush in her arms. It was a replica of her Seiran floatplanes. A gift from her older sisters Shion and Shioi. A welcome back present, just for her.


    "What''re you looking at?" Mackerel snapped, foot lifting off her table they were resting upon. Shiho recoiled away from the submarine, as the door swung open.


    "Mackerel! Feet off the table!" South Dakota entered the briefing room, breaded hair flowing behind her. The submarine in question would normally raise her voice in protest, but ultimately decided it wasn''t worth angering the battleship, putting her feet on the ground, letting her chair return to its natural position.


    "Normally, the Admiral would hand this briefing himself. However, present events have seen to it that he is quite busy," the battleship glared at Mackerel, who''s snort interrupted her. "Currently, he is contacting many others for additional reinforcements, should your mission prove successful."


    Shiho''s breath of relief ceased up in her throat. She wasn''t in trouble. She was in for something much much worse. A mission. From the sound of it, a big one.


    She wasn''t like her sisters. Even they had seen combat. Her? She never saw any, not even a faint hint. She wasn''t like them.


    "Reinforcements! What type of mission are we being sent on!" Mackerel''s hand slammed against the table, as Shiho let out a squeak of surprise.


    "If you would stop interrupting, I''d tell you," South Dakota''s eyes narrowed as a final warning. Mackerel slumped back down into her seat. The battleship paused for a moment.


    "As of 16:00 yesterday, an unknown US cruiser sent out a distress signal in two waves off the Philippine coast. To our knowledge, she successfully made landfall in Northern Luzon and has retreated further inland. Your mission is to find any signs of this cruiser and track her down. Seeing as she''s retreated inland, Shiho, your planes would have the best chance of spotting her. Try to establish contact with her by any means necessary."


    If Shiho had been standing, she would have staggered. It was if the weight of the entire planet had been dropped unto her shoulders without warning. A shipgirl? Trapped behind enemy lines? And out of everyone, she was the one most likely to help her?


    "Mackerel, that means you''re on escort duty," South Dakota''s eyes narrowed, killing any protest before the in question could open her mouth. "Get Shiho to her destination, and keep her safe. Only engage if you have no other choice. Is that clear?"


    "Crystal, Ma''am," Mackerel crossed her arms in a heated huff, glaring at the larger battleship.


    "Good. Be prepared to leave at 16 hundred."


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Poor thing. I hope she felt better when she woke up. She''d cried herself to sleep in my arms.


    I''d learned a few more things about her though. Her name is Luzon. Named after the largest and most populated island in the Philippines.


    It was also one that tickled the back of my mind. She was a shipgirl, that much was becoming increasingly clear. But I didn''t know if the Philippines had a naval fleet in World War 2. It was a US colony at the time, or close enough to it.


    If I was younger, I''d probably be able to pin it down. I loved naval history World War 2 especially, back when a certain channel did history segments. But that knowledge had sadly left my brain at this point.


    Still, this complicated matters. How are my boilers doing? Three''s still down? If I was at top speed I might be willing to make a break for it, even with me carrying her on my back. Down a boiler? My top speed was what now? Around twenty knots?


    Oh, higher? By how much? Yeah, no, still not fast enough. Please try to get it up and running as swiftly as you can. If I can sneak out, great. But I wasn''t going out onto the open ocean at a speed a battleship could keep pace with.


    That was dumb. Needlessly risky and dumb. But staying put was risky and dumb. Luzon had escaped from the Abyssals, which meant they were likely looking for her. Movement would only keep us safe for so long.


    A scowl broke out across my face. Until the pineapples ran out, I didn''t want to leave, either. Wasting resources was the last thing I wanted to do because I had no idea when we''d run across something another stache again.


    Damn! This cave was nice too! If only I had some means to fortify this position!


    Wait? Fortify?


    Hey, do we have any bomb crews? Oh, that was you guys? Nice! What do you think of using depth charges as explosive traps? Possible? Excellent! Let''s get started first thing in the morning, then. I''m going to clock out and get some rest.


    I stretched, laying down across the smooth stone with a bit of a shudder. Merely moments later, I felt a pair of arms wrap around me, a head nuzzles into my ribcage. So, I was a pillow now.


    Well, I can honestly get used to that.

 Chapter 6

    My eyes began to crack open as light danced across my face, slowly becoming aware of the world around me. I felt great! Best sleep I had in ages! Placing my hands beneath me, I prepared to push myself upwards.


    Only to meet resistance part of the way up. Now that I realized it, there was a weight laying right on top of my stomach. Was it, no, it wasn''t an Abyssal. I''d be dead if it was. Luzon?


    Cranking my head upward, only to find the small girl laying on my stomach, partially flopped over to the side. Her head rested against my chest, using it as a pillow. I''m not sure how I feel about that right now, but I wasn''t going to wake her up over it.


    Besides, she needed the rest. Badly. Was just going to have to wait until it was not snuggling o''clock, then I could get started on my trap plan.


    Did we have any paper? I was going to want to map this out. Because getting ourselves blown up would a bit embarrassing. And marking the bombs would render the whole point, well, pointless.


    Calling them bombs was probably an insult to anyone that made explosives. More like makeshift landmines. Well, this was going to be overkill or one of my dumber ideas.


    Honestly, I hoped for the former.


    I felt Luzon shift on my chest, making grumbling noises, signaling her return to the waking world. Slowly, the younger yet out a small yawn, rising and rubbing her eyes.


    "Sleep well?" I asked, causing her to jump with a small squeak of surprise. Hopefully, it was because she hadn''t expected to use me as a bed. If it was the other option, I''m not sure I''d be able to handle it.


    "I didn''t mean to wake you," she stammered, crawling off my frame, doing her best to avoid eye contact.


    "It''s fine," I smiled, doing my best to calm her nerves, sitting myself up. "I assume you want breakfast?"


    "More pineapples?"


    I blinked back at her. Well, we didn''t exactly have much else. Hunting with my guns would be excessive, to put it bluntly. And would probably light up our position on the map, know that I thought about it.


    "Yes, more pineapples," her face lit up at the prospect of food. It''s kind of funny how the fastest way to earn affection from her was with food.


    Wait. Oh no. I''m becoming my mother.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Food was, well, food. But it was becoming apparent that two shipgirls ate.


    A lot. Honestly, it''d be a miracle if the pineapple stash made it through the week. If we were sticking in the region, we''d need to find another food source, and fast. I didn''t want to leave until what we had was used up, either, because this could be the only one of its kind left, somehow untouched.


    But that wasn''t important right now. I was focused on something much for critical, and far more dangerous. The way my hull was right now, one misstep could lead to me getting a fancy new hole.


    Hull? No, don''t go down that rabbit hole now. I scowled, throwing my back further into my work. Was it healthy? No, but it was working so far, and that''s how I tended to cope. Still, I knew it wasn''t going to last forever.


    Still, this was, well complicated. Jonathan, you lied to me.


    Okay, maybe I was being a bit too harsh. After all, there was a world of difference between making a handmade bomb, and jury-rigging a depth charge into a makeshift landmine.


    Oh, what I wouldn''t give to have torpedoes for this. That way, I wouldn''t be stuck here rewiring explosive charges, guided by my demolition team! They''d be armed and ready to explode, instead of having to delicately cut out components. But what about Luzon?


    Couldn''t ask Luzon for hers. She''s a mess, and I don''t think she has any. I saw what her rigging looked like, but I''d never seen her activate it. Even when she was panicked and scared. Sure, her guns wouldn''t sink anything, but they''d certainly hurt something at close range. Like a bee sting to the eye.


    But on topic, my crew was great. Couldn''t ask for better. They were already working on setting up tripwires. Pressure plates it turns out were a bit too complicated. So when all else fails, just use some string.


    I''m not planning on using all my depth charges for this though. It just feels dumb? Wasteful? There could be subs out there if fleeing the island ends up being our only remaining option. So, no, I was keeping a few on hand. Just in case.


    Though for that to be viable, that engine needed to be up and running, but right now, it might be safe to write it off as a pipe dream. Getting out onto the open ocean again, without maximum speed?


    I wouldn''t feel safe with that abomination of an aviation battleship on the waters. Part of it may have just been my knowledge of its reputation, but still. It could break me in half with little to no effort.


    It bothered me immensely. Abyssal''s were meant to be cruel mindless monsters to hungered for humanity''s blood. Luzon made it clear while the Abyssals here had both malice and desired humanity''s destruction, they might have developed pragmatism?


    Yeah, that''s horrifying. Both because it means they as a whole were capable of learning, but also because it meant my survival wasn''t dumb luck. It was calculated. Why? I have not even the faintest of clues. Did I want to stay to find out?


    Hell no.


    Oh, okay, yeah, we may have to run regardless. That''s, well. Honestly, if an Abyssal wanted something so bad that they were willing to let me run around their island, then I shouldn''t let them have it.


    Great. Damned if I do, damned if I don''t. Well, if Abyssal''s wanted me alive, and on their island, then I had no problems getting off.


    "Hey! Hey hey hey!" One of my fairies waved their arms, signaling me as it hopped up and down. Okay, little guy. What''s up?


    If I''d had blinked, I would have missed it, but I couldn''t miss what was left in its wake. I couldn''t make out exactly what it was, it was moving to fast. A bolt of fire, streaking across the sky, leaving a dark trail of smoke.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Was that a plane? I didn''t get a good look at it, but that didn''t seem like an Abyssal aircraft. Could it be?


    Rescue?


    If it was a rescue, then the fact it just went down in flames wasn''t a good sign. Still, had to mean my distress call was received! We needed to get on the move, now! If there was a person, they might still be alive! Intact radios, something, anything. No doubt the Abyssal''s would comb the place, just to make sure none survived.


    I looked back over my shoulder. Luzon must have noticed the screaming ball of fire before I did. She was curled up, rocking back and forth without trying to make a sound, hands clasped around her ears.


    My approach was as gentle as possible, but with her eyes squeezed shut and fingers blocking out all sound, I might as well have been a ghost.


    I placed my hand down on her shoulder, attempting to comfort her. My hand touched lightly against her clothing, only for her to bolt away, something flashing before me. My instinct to cover my eyes was warranted, as my frame was peppered with bullets. Despite the state of my armor, the bounced off, completely harmlessly.


    Once the annoying pellets stopped, I finally removed my hand from my face, staring into Luzon''s shocked face, hands clapped over her mouth in horror. Her rigging was, well, nearly non-existent. Two guns sat on gloves, single barrel and tiny, even on her small frame. There was a third, slightly above her elbow on her right arm. Beyond that, two torpedo tubes hung off what looked like some metal belt.


    Closer inspection revealed just how beat up her armor and armaments were. Chips of paint and flakes of metal were falling off. Some spots even showed considerable rust, a sign of neglect. Of course, the Abyssal''s would treat her in such a manor.


    "I''m sorry, I''m so sorry!" Luzon sobbed out, rigging fading in an array of lights. I reached out again, pulling the child into a hug.


    "I''m fine, Luzon. It was an accident," I stroked her dirt-filled hair, doing my best to calm her down.


    "You want to go after the plane, don''t you?" she continued, tears once again staining my shirt. "You''ll leave, and you won''t come back!"


    She was scared. No, terrified. She didn''t want to be left alone.


    "You could come with me," I spoke softly, her voice quieting to a hiccup.


    "Really?" her voice was a faint squeak, but it was one filled with glee and happiness.


    "Of course," I nodded, returning her smile. "Just make sure to stay close, alright?"


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    This was not as easy as I thought it would be. Massive leaves made up the canopy, obscuring my line of sight. I could make out a faint wif of smoke still lingering in the air before the wind deserved the branches and it became hidden again.


    Nor was it as simple as walking in a straight line. Simply gazing upward wasn''t an option, either. Because, well, the trees were quite large and easy to run into, if one wasn''t paying enough attention.


    Still, we were moving at quite the pace. Well, more accurately, I was moving at quite the pace. Luzon had clunked out. Shipgirl or not, she still acted her age. So, I was officially playing piggyback. Despite all the up and down, she seemed quite comfortable.


    No matter. Hopefully, there would be a break in the trees soon. I needed a better view, if only to reorient myself. Regardless, I don''t think I was even close to where the thing touched down.


    Gingerly moving aside a small bundle of vines, I broke into a small area of open space. Yes! Okay, last I saw the smoke trail leading north-east. I reoriented myself, trying to find any trace of smoke.


    Nothing. Nothing! All this for nothing? Damn! Sure, I could comb the jungle myself, but without any clues to point me the right direction, the task would be near impossible. I had myself, and Luzon wasn''t going to let herself out of my general vicinity. Especially with who knows how many Abyssal''s that''ll likely be running around.


    I didn''t want to give up this easily, but unless, wait? Was that? I squinted against the sun, eyes registering something in the distance. Smoke? Yes, that was smoke! It was coming up from the jungle, rising above the leaves. That must be where it crashed!


    If I kept going, I would stumble across it. Now it was just a matter of getting there before the Abyssal''s did.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I swear, if I ever see another jungle after this was done, I was going to scream. Nothing more than traps of aggravation, bugs, and vines. Especially vines. More trouble than they were worth. Made even more aggravating by my attempts to keep Luzon from being disturbed. She was still clinging off my back. Making things worse were the boots. Meant for hiking, these were most certainly not.


    We were getting close. We had to be. Turning back wasn''t an option by this point. We''d been out here for far too long to make it back. I''d rather not take my chances navigating in the pitch dark. And making this a two-day search would benefit the Abyssal''s too much. It was now, or never.


    "Desu," a voice came from nearby, causing me to just about jump out of my skin. A human voice, or at the very least, something close to it took me off guard, after hours of insect buzzing and my thoughts.


    "Desu, desu desu desu," it continued as if talking to something. Was that fairy speak? Mine always said hey. Maybe it was one of another nation?


    That had to be it. Simply repeating one word was a dead give away, unless Abyssal''s had some sort of demented equivalent. But if that existed, I expected more satanic chanting and screaming.


    There was only one option. This fairy was more than likely a Japanese pilot. I had expected humans, but this? I should have expected. If I existed, that alone meant there had to be more shipgirls out there. Luzon, who was still sleeping, only further proved this.


    So of course Japan had its shipgirls. And seeing as this was a pilot, that had to mean an aircraft carrier, right?


    "Desu!" there was a final shout, followed by a small thump. Maybe it was trying to signal for help?


    Slowly, I made my way towards where the voice originated. Still, some part of me had expected a full-sized plane, for some stupid reason. Maybe I was trying to keep a grasp on what little rationality remained. Instead, it was small. Slightly larger than those Abyssal fighter, orb, things. Probably the size of a small drone?


    Shouldn''t recognize what it was from the wreckage, though. Too much was simply gone, either damaged by the crash or even potentially the cause.


    "Hey there, little guy," I paused, hoping to not startle the fairy.


    It let out a shout of Desu, whipping around pulling out what I assumed was a firearm of some kind. A very small one. Unless it worked like shipgirl guns, which, who am I kidding probably did, wouldn''t be quite that intimidating.


    "Desu?" it cocked it''s head to the side, before holstering the sidearm. "Desu desu?" Okay, I think I found a small hole in my plan.


    I didn''t understand Japanese. Or fairy-speak Japanese, for that matter.


    "Hey. Hey hey hey," I felt one of my fairies exit my body, around my leg. Chills went up and down my spine, as the two fairies went back and forth, exchanging desus and heys faster than I could keep up with. So, fairies just understood one another. You know what? Not worth bothering with. That could be possibly explained, at least.


    Luzon''s body began to shift as the conversation went on, signaling her return to the waking world. I paused for a moment. Luzon didn''t have good memories of the war. How would she react to this little situation before us? I wasn''t entirely sure.


    That didn''t become a problem. No, it was merely replaced by a much larger issue. Underbrush began to rustle, something moving inside. Sniffing, searching for something. My rigging erupted forth, guns swinging around, as a black-head pushed its way through the leaves.


    In a brief moment, we stared at one another, both of us planning our next move. My guns could obliterate it but would reveal our position to everything within miles. It, while it wouldn''t be scratch my armor, could be calling allies at any moment.


    Honestly, there wasn''t much of a choice to make. Better to take a shot on my terms, rather than wait until I was outnumbered. Steel erupted, sending shockwaves through the jungle, birds scattering everywhere into the sky as the shots echoed off the trees.


    "Okay, time to go," I scooped up the two fairies into my arms, and with Luzon still hanging onto my back, broke into a run.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    She''d lost a plane! Not only that, but she''d lost one of her pilots too. She had sent one overland, to scout out the area a bit, before heading back, as per her orders. There was a gap, a sizable one, that allowed him to slip in.


    But something went wrong. Either the plane had been struck, or some unforeseen mechanical failing, it was forced to crash. She shuttered at the thought of losing a plane due to a defect, but that wasn''t the major issue.


    Her pilot wasn''t back yet. He had crashed hours ago, so he would have reformed in her hull by this point. That meant he was still alive.


    In Abyssal territory.


    On land.


    What was she going to do!

 Chapter 7

    <div>


    <div>


    My only advantage was that destroyers were not meant for land-based operations. I had functioning legs. They had stubs. Built for overland pursuit, they were certainly not.


    It was a miracle we found the cave when we did, with the last of the light fading swiftly. Small, and cramped, but it was better than being out in the open. More defensible too, if the destroyers followed my trail and caught up. Getting in was a bit of a struggle, with Luzon applying a death grip on my body. If I wasn''t a shipgirl at this point, she could have taken my head off.


    Damnit, I really should have packed supplies for this. But what was done was done. Slowly, Luzon unwound herself from my frame, before falling asleep yet again. I''m not sure what all the napping was about, but I''d have to deal with it later.


    Ultimately, instead of resting myself, I listened as my crew members filled me in on what our guest had to say.


    As it turned out, he was not from a carrier, but rather one of the I-400 aviation submarines. I-402, to be exact. She and the US submarine Mackeral had been sent to scout out the area for my presence. He''d gone down due to engine troubles and was attempting to radio in about his situation.


    Instead, he ended up being saved by the very same person he was sent here to find. Funny thing, that was. However, his communication system was completely down after the crash.


    We could use mine. I mean, if he had the codes, he could use my radio to contact I-402, and from there formulate a larger plan of attack. Hell, that would put me just a stone''s thrown removed from the Admiral himself. Even if Abyssal''s could locate my signal, I''d be on the move again, leaving them with little to go off of.


    Sure, I-402 and Mackeral would probably need to bolt like hell, but that could probably be accounted for. It wasn''t much, but being able to talk and get a better grasp of what was going on? It was a start. And the sooner Luzon and I were out of here, the better off I''d feel.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Shiho continued her panic. It had been over twelve hours already, breaking into the next day, yet he had still yet to return to her hull or contact her. At this point, he had to have been captured. Could Abyssal''s even do that?


    It was so overwhelming, she nearly missed it, despite nearly all her attention is on her radio. If she wasn''t underwater, she would have made a squeak of joy, answering without a second thought.


    She had expected a flurry of Desu''s from the other end of the line. She hadn''t expected a human voice.


    "Hello. This is Isabell, United States Navy. Is this I-402 of the Japanese Navy?" Shiho sputtered in surprise.


    "Uh, yes, I am I-402," she stammered, coming to a halt. "How do have these codes?" That was the question she probably should have lead with.


    "I recovered one of your downed aviation crewmembers. He was willing to share the codes through my radio system," the shipgirl on the other end spoke clearly, though there was a rustling in the background.


    "You didn''t use that identification when you released your distress signal," there was a pregnant pause in the air.


    "I named myself," Shiho blinked in surprise. Could a ship do that? Sure, her and many of the Japanese submarines had nicknames, but that was different.


    "I''ve also been joined by another shipgirl, the USS Luzon. We are currently headed northward."


    "No! Don''t say what direction you are heading! This line of communication may be compromised!" she shouted, in panic, resulting in a pause on the other end followed by a loud, rattling smack.


    "Look, I''m contacting you to let you know I''m here, I''m alive, and there''s another person that needs rescuing. In terms of information, all I can tell you is that the Abbysals here have captives and that there is a Re in charge of the place," Shiho gasped. Prisoners? That was something to report to the Admiral as soon as possible.


    "What is your current status between the two of you?" That elicited a notable sound of irritation from the cruiser.


    "Me? I''m down a boiler, down one of my primary turrets, and lucky to only be missing only that much. Luzon? I don''t see a lot of direct damage, but a lot of neglect and lack of upkeep or repair," for a moment, Isabell sounded like she was about to continue, only to seemingly bite her tongue.


    "How long can you keep hidden?" the pause range in the air.


    "However long it takes for the Abyssal in charge to get tired of this," Isabell''s voice had fallen to a whisper barely audible above the rustling leaves. She was scared of it, wasn''t she? A Re class was no joking matter.


    "Look, I''ll try to keep as close to the shoreline as possible without being blown into smithereens. If my boilers get repaired, I might just make a break for it. 275 out," the transmission cut off, and in an instant, she was plugging in another.


    "Who gave you permission to break," before Mackerel could continue, Shiho cut off the aggressive submarine.


    "I''ve received contact from our target," it was a simple sentence, but it was enough to make Mackerel pause.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    He couldn''t exactly blame I-402 for one of her planes having engine trouble, nor could he blame her for picking up said transmission, even if it was sending the Abbysal fleet into overdrive. Both submarines were getting out of patrol range, and the cruiser had provided some information.


    And raised a few more questions. The biggest of which is her new name. She stated to I-402 that she''d named herself, but that didn''t make sense. Though that was something he could put a pin in until after she was retrieved.


    Then there were her specs, which I-402''s fairy passenger had managed to slip through. They were concerning, for lack of a better word. Not because of their firepower, but rather, their familiarity. Now, while a great many cruisers carried six-inch, forty-seven caliber guns, her reported turret layout suggested a total of twelve total batteries. Cleveland''s had the same number of guns.


    But, instead, this new cruiser lacked secondaries. Entirely. That, combined with her exactly four quad Bofors, gave him an all too familiar picture.


    This mystery cruiser was identical to Seattle. But Seattle had already been summoned. That shouldn''t be possible. Sure, there was much they didn''t yet understand about shipgirl summoning. And that wasn''t even touching on all the complications about unbuilt shipgirls.


    This wasn''t even the case of multiple planned builds falling through. Seattle had existed purely as a design on paper. No plans, no orders, no names. She was unique, one of a kind, in a sense. So having another of her nonexistent class be summoned? Either this was some incredible long game bluff, or something impossible had happened. And if the impossible had indeed happened, then it was very possible.


    Of course, he had zero ideas of how to approach the subject with Seattle herself. Now wasn''t the best time, but it was eventually going to happen. He could only imagine the conversation. ''Surprise, you have a sister now, when you never thought you would get one''. He could already hear the party noises.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Then there was the USS Luzon. She wasn''t with the cruiser before she landed in the Philipines. Was she a natural summon as well? He scowled. Something told that wasn''t the case. Isabell had stated neglect as part of Luzon''s damage assessment. There was something in the wording that just rubbed him the wrong way. Of course, he couldn''t forget that Isabell had mentioned the Abyssal''s had taken captives. Could they be the source of Luzon''s summoning?


    It didn''t help that there were quite a few vessels with the name Luzon. AGR-2 was a repair ship and would be an absolute blessing. Japan had Akashi as their sole repair ship for their entire navy, and it was difficult to get a United States repair ship all the way out to Japan. Then there was PG-47, which would be interesting, to say the least, as she served on both under the USN and IJN.


    "So, the situation is even worse than we originally thought," Admiral Goto''s fingers remained crossed.


    "Enough so that my superiors granted me permission to use the Vestal we stationed in the Sea of Japan," he frowned. That certainly got the slightly younger Admiral''s attention.


    "So it is that serious. I thought the United States produced those to make a statement," Goto wasn''t wrong in his assessment. The new Vestal class ships were brought about as a response to the existence of shipgirls, and was tailor-made to enhance their capacities. Unlike most navies, which found themselves repurposing older vessels to support shipgirl operations, the United States had produced something brand new.


    "They told me to think of it as a stress test," and that was the problem. For all of how it was supposed to work, it had never been properly tested in the field. At some point, the project became wrapped in PR, and as a result, hadn''t been allowed to see combat out of concerns that its failure would result in a considerable loss of moral.


    "Will it work?" that was the question of the hour.


    "It will. I''ve looked over everything. Armor thick enough to withstand even Yamoto''s guns, yet fast enough that it transport larger shipgirls faster than they can move," Richardson nodded. It had other advantages too, bristling with considerable anti-air guns, which could be further reinforced by shipgirls, on top of its main guns.


    Inside was enough food to feed several armies, alongside repair baths and other essential equipment for shipgirl upkeep. And entertainment. That could not be overstated.


    "Very well," Goto closed his eyes briefly. "I''ll spare who I can from Yokosuka, but I can''t send much. I''ll get in touch with any other Admirals I can, but beyond that, I can''t make any promises."


    "I cannot ask for anything else, Goto. Thank you," Richardson said as the call came to an end. He was asking a lot of the man, and considering the Admiral ran the largest shipgirl base in all of Japan, he''d likely added more to his overworked schedule.


    He''d sooner not, but as things stood, he didn''t have a choice. If Sasebo was completely emptied, he''d have the numbers for this operation, but like Goto, he had dozens of other operations, from patrols to escorts, that he couldn''t just abandon, not to mention base defense.


    He just hoped Isabell could hold out long enough for rescue.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I had no idea how to cook meat in the field. But I was smart. Surely, I could figure out something as primitive as how to properly use fire. Our campsite was small, a considerable distance inland, just to stay safe from patrols and the occasional crab.


    Actually, no, scratch that. We might need crab. But I wasn''t going to risk being spotted by any more Abyssals to get them. We hadn''t been spotted since the crash site, either a miracle or a planned occurrence.


    Right now, I leaned towards planned. That was the only thing that made sense. Maybe I was just being ¡­


    Underbrush rustled, causing me to whip around, turrets raised. Abyssal? Plants continued to twitch, leaves rubbing against one another as something moved in them.


    Out popped a bird of some kind. My batteries lowered as my crew stood down. No need to blast a small bird with a six-inch shell. My crew had much smaller shells for that.


    The avian likely sensed the danger, as it began to take flight. But my crew weren''t any Elmer Fudds, and they certainly weren''t hunting rabbits. It was almost cute how the rifles sounded. Like party poppers.


    Tentatively, I grabbed the body, trying not to focus too much on it. A meal was a meal, with Luzon and I needing whatever food we could get as I stuffed it into my hull.


    I still couldn''t entirely get over it. Sure, it made sense, but whatever internal rules it played by was unclear. Putting things into my hull struck it down while taking it out would return it to its original size. That included meals and cooking, so I wasn''t going to be struggling with a fire for cooking. Yet.


    But guns kept in my crew''s armory? No, those would remain the same size, for some reason. Not that I''d be able to handle them too well. My knowledge around a firearm went as far as knowing where the safety was, how to aim down sight, and how to reload it.


    Even with radar, I''d be a worse marksman than they were anyway.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    She had expected the humans to come in, all guns blazing to rescue their lost cruiser. Not to send scouts! Her growl of frustration sent many of her smaller ships scattering around in an attempt to avoid her wrath.


    Tracking the brief transmission was easy, but by the time her destroyers arrived, the submarines had fled the scene, likely sending word to their human masters about the strange cruiser.


    As for the cruiser itself? It had been moving north at the time the transmission was cut. But after that? Gone. Vanished. Into the jungle without the slightest hint to her presence. If only they''d captured the pilot of that downed plane, this never would have happened!


    Damnit! Stone crumbled into the dust beneath her grasp. Letting the cruiser, even as damaged as she was, wonder freely was becoming more and more a poor idea. Worse was the patrols she sent out returned with nothing. Not a hint of Kanmusu on the shorelines, either.


    In fact, to her knowledge, the Kanmusu had avoided the ocean since her arrival. Wounds could explain part of it, but she''d lost several destroyers on dry land by this point.


    It was unnatural for a Kanmusu to fight in such a manner. Could it be the second soul? How much influence did it have over the Kanmusu? A little? A lot? Even entirely?


    That raised questions of its own. Such as who was it? Surely not a simple animal. Could it be human?


    Her chuckle was short and cruel. Of course not. A human becoming a Kanmusu? Madness.


    Still, she needed that Kanmusu. Alive. Before the humans could arrive and ruin her long term plans.


    </article>

 Chapter 8

    Underbrush rustled, tracing against the dark metal that slowly inched its way through the low-lying bushes and scrubs. On its flank, a dog-like head pushed out, making a motion akin to sniffing at the air.


    Damnit, they''ve officially learned to start hunting in packs. Maybe a sign that I was being taken seriously now. That wasn''t a good thing. Still, they were headed north. So my plan worked. For the time being. Sooner rather than later, they were going to have to wisen up.


    Thank you, crew members, for your generous donation of binoculars. I waited a few more minutes, as a third destroyer joined the pair, before continuing. Still, I hadn''t been spotted, so that was enough of a success in my book. Now, let''s get down from this igneous outcrop and get back to our little camp.


    And actually, prepare to properly leave this time. Packing up food should have been the first thing we did. I didn''t know how long pineapple kept, but it should be able to hold up a few days. Heading back had crossed my mind. Even if we had to go further inland again, the food supplies alone would be worth it. Or would I be heading inland? We had been traveling east yet we hadn''t run into the ocean, or near it, like I thought we had.


    Curse my messed up sense of scale and distance. I probably wouldn''t have gotten this far without my internal compass, I freaking swear.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Luzon?" Luzon, are you here?" I whispered as I made my way into the small clearing. Trees and brush nearly surrounded it entirely, with a small but very rocky and steep hill to the north. Having our backs to the wall wasn''t the greatest idea, but I doubted the destroyers could climb.


    I couldn''t see the small girl in the clearing. Great. I honestly should have known better than to leave a child, an easily bored and scared child, alone for any length of time. But I didn''t want to drag her needlessly through the jungle every time I want to scout out the area, either.


    Okay, she couldn''t have gotten far. Or have been gone for long. I couldn''t find any tracks, human or otherwise. That meant.


    "Isabell! Up here!" A noise exited my throat, my body jolting.


    "Sorry! Did I scare you?" Luzon''s voice made my heart stop its erratic hammering against my rib cage.


    "I''m fine," I did my best to wave off the question. "But I''m going to have to ask what you''re doing up there." Yeah, what exactly was she doing up there, anyway? And why was she holding a pointed stick?


    She chuckled a slight grin on her face. "I found something up here. Come up! I''ll show you!"


    I paused for a moment. She seemed happy about whatever she had found. It could be important. And even if it wasn''t, did it matter that much? We had a secure position up there.


    "All right, I''m coming up," ultimately, I conceded that I was going to be climbing up this rock face. God, the last time I did something like this felt like a lifetime ago. Though I do suppose field camp may have been a lifetime ago. At least my body as strong as steel now, and my skin wouldn''t be torn to pieces on the sharpened limestone. Or the cactus. Never before have I hated a plant more.


    In moments, I managed to scramble up the cliff face, pulling myself up to my feet. The view could have been better, though I didn''t have much time to contemplate as Luzon grabbed my hand, dragging me along towards whatever place she uncovered.


    A familiar trickle found it''s way to my ears. Water? What was water doing back here?


    Then I saw green. Which, okay, made sense. Running water was a surefire way to find plantlife or vise versa. That meant the outcrop was smaller than I thought it was, which was, well, not ideal. Little of this situation was, oh. Oh my.


    I stand corrected. This was very ideal. I mean, holy cow! This was just, damn. It looked a bit like a crater, with a large pond in the center of uneven ground. Small trees surrounded it on the cliffs and near the edges of the surface. An oasis carved from rock and stone. Sunlight reflected off the water''s surface glistening in the ripples that gently ran across.


    Wow. Just wow. I''d never thought I''d see anything like this. We might actually be set here, for the time being.


    "I found fish up here!" Luzon''s grin was nearly ear to ear.


    Huh. That would go a ways in explaining the spear.


    "You know how to spearfish?" I raised an eyebrow at her. That was a particular set of skills right there. Her hair nearly cracked like a whip, she nodded so fast.


    "Can you teach me?" I got another nod from the smaller ship. If I had a fishing pole, I would have tried to do this my way, but I didn''t. And well, I wasn''t seeing any string, or anything like it lying around, so I couldn''t just find a stick and wrap a thread around it.


    "First you need a stick, then you need to sharpen it, then you need to," did fish contain a similar level of sugar to that found in candy, by chance? I wasn''t going to be able to keep half of this straight. The basic idea was simple. Make spear, throw at fish. That I could understand.


    My lips twitched upward as I watched Luzon make her way to on the trees, breaking off a branch with a sickening snap. For a moment, I paused. That didn''t sound like someone breaking off the limb of a tree at all. That sounded more like? The breaking of rocks?


    Suddenly, the ground beneath me lurched, giving way. Wind rustled past my hair as shards of stone hurled past me. I managed to catch a glimpse of Luzon, her face contorting as I slammed into the water body.


    The water felt warm, washing over my body. Even as I winced from the inverse bellyflop I just performed, I began to paddle. Numerous splashes came down around me, ranging from small fragments of rock to stones that could easily cave in a man''s skulls. Some were even larger.


    Further complicating matters was the response from my crew. They were doing, as the kids would call it, flipping their shit. Ultimately, I rose to the surface. In part because I didn''t want the oncoming headache that would result due to the panic of several hundred men running amok in my skull.


    Air rushed into my lungs with a gasp as I broke the now disturbed waters, ripples bouncing back and forth. Damn it, now my clothes were wet. Again! This was the second time since I landed on this island! On the open ocean that was probably a given, but inland!


    Still, the water was calmer here than in the rapids of that stream, so even if I was soaked, I would at least enjoy myself.


    "Isabella!" Luzon was already out on the water, skating slowly back and forth.


    "I''m here!" I shouted, her head spinning to the sound of my voice as I stayed bobbing in the water. Summoning my rigging was something I could have done but given the river. No, I''d be better off swimming to shore.


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    "How are you doing that?" Luzon looked down at me, a perplexed expression growing on her face, as tears began to fade.


    "I''m swimming," I kept up my stationary stroking in the water next to the smaller torpedo boat.


    "But you''re a cruiser. I thought," her body began to shake as Luzon let out a hiccup. I reached one of my hands out the water, ruffling her hair.


    "I''m also a human. And humans can swim. We can swim," I stated, and at that moment, Luzon''s expression froze. Had I just caused her to bluescreen? The whole concept had my crew screaming in sheer panic.


    "I could swim?" Luzon''s voice was faint but present.


    I gave a simple nod. "I could teach you if you wanted." For a moment, Luzon''s face tightened, her eyes squeezing shut. Her body shook once again, quaking in the water, her displacement nearly leading to me being swamped by another wave.


    "I would like you to teach me please!" she nearly shouted, taking in a sharp breath. My lips twitch forward into a grin.


    "Alright. We should probably start in the shallows over there," I pointed towards the water''s edge. The water should be shallow enough for Luzon to be able to stand there without too much issue.


    "Would you like an escort?" Luzon''s foot shifted in the water, her face looking down at her feet. Okay, that was absolutely adorable.


    "I''m more than willing to accept," I smiled at her bashfulness, as we began making our way back to the shore.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Cool water lapped it''s way between my toes, sending a shiver down my spine. I''d left a portion of my now considerably wet clothes out to dry. Again. I hope this wasn''t going to become a pattern here. Still, the skirt had to go. It didn''t take well to being waterlogged. Almost like I was being attacked by an angry wet blanket.


    Luzon stood on the edge of the shore, rigging no longer active, eyeing the water as if it was about to bite off her foot. The pond continued to lap at the rocks, with Luzon slowly inching her foot forward, only to retreat as the water rushed forward. Maybe I should have just asked Luzon to dismiss her rigging before she arrived at the shoreline.


    I took a few steps back, letting the water rise to past my ankles. "See? It''s not going to hurt you." I offered my hand, offering Luzon an invitation. Slowly, ever so slowly, her foot tentatively moved forward again, this time holding its ground until the water made contact with her toes.


    Luzon jumped back with a squeak, teeth already chattering. "Cold!"


    I had to bite my lip to prevent a chuckle from sneaking out. How long ago was it when I would get up at the butt crack of dawn, before the pools had time to warm in the sun''s rays, only to say the same thing? Quite a few years ago, but alas, memories.


    "Unfortunately, there''s not a lot I can do about that," I grinned, though I filed away that note. The sun was about to reach its zenith. A pool would have been warm by now, or at the very least, not as chilled as it was at present. Of course, I had little experience swimming in none man-made bodies of water, so I could just be wrong.


    Luzon took a few more steps forward, making her way out to my depth, chattering all the while. I guess as an equatorial patrol boat, she wouldn''t be able to handle cold waters all that well.


    Okay, now I needed to remember how I got taught. I wasn''t a monster, and try to force her to sink or swim, as it were. We had time. Maybe not a lot of it, but still we had time. It''d take a few days for the rescue op to get here, and that was before gathering the strikeforce, which would also consume a day or two. Besides, it was best to start with the basics anyway.


    "Follow me," I began walking towards one of the cliffs. If remember correctly, we''d started by making our way around the pool while hanging off the side. What was it supposed to teach me? Quite frankly, I don''t recall. Maybe something about our natural buoyancy? Either way, we''d simply get to a point where we couldn''t touch the bottom anymore. Maybe it just let us acclimate until we felt comfortable?


    Whatever it was, I knew it had to have some purpose. Luzon lagged behind me, teeth clattering as she pushed her way through more and more water. By the time I made it, water had nearly reached up to my waist. Luzon was about up to her chest, pushing through the meager waves like an icebreaker.


    "Okay. Place your hands on the wall like so," once again, I was thankful for my new steel hands being able to completely ignore the sharp, eroded limestone block. Luzon mimicked me, placing her smaller hands against the white stone face. "Now, hold onto the wall, and follow me."


    Using my grip, I slowly began to pull myself through the water, making sure to keep an eye on Luzon. Her movements were a bit shaky, and I wasn''t sure whether it was from the cold, or her nerves.


    Could it be her crew? Mentally, I send an inward glare towards my crewmates. No more panic for you! Everything is under control. No sinking. No floodings. You''re just going to have to get used to me being able to swim!


    Outwardly, I was still keeping a close eye on Luzon, matching the pace she set. Just in case something went wrong, being near enough to render aid was crucial.


    "You''re doing great," I smiled at her, giving the patrol boat a thumbs-up gesture. Luzon, whose face appeared to be full of uncertainty just a few moments prior, returned a beaming smile. I took a few more steps, before nearly lurching. My grip was more than enough to keep me from going any further, but there was a drop-off. And given how my foot wasn''t returning anything but the feeling of water, no sand shifting between my toes, it had to be considerable.


    "Luzon, be really careful right here, okay? There''s a bit of a drop-off. Just keep a firm grip and kick your legs," I kept my voice even as I continued along. However, I was prepared to launch into action. Luzon continued to creep forward. Inch by inch she made her way closer and closer to the dropoff point. My movement began to slow, as she reached the submerged cliff.


    My eyes widened as she lurched, head violently jerking down. Muscles coiled, as I prepared to push myself around Luzon and support her, or even drag her back to shore. Then her head popped back up, not quite returning to its original position, but it was no longer in danger of being swamped.


    I released a breath I didn''t know I was holding. That was too close for comfort.


    "I''m doing it! I''m doing it!" Luzon''s cries of glee brought more than a smile to my face. My heart swelled with warmth, and I returned a grin from ear to ear.

 Chapter 9

    What I wouldn''t give for a towel right now. It would make drying out Luzon''s hair far less of a herculean effort than it was proving. Seriously! I used to pride myself on my incredibly dense hair, which took water in like a sponge. This? Her hair was holding onto moisture like it was starving.


    And at least back then water kept my hair in check! Luzon''s? I might as well be fighting with a Kraken right now! I scowled, slowly pulling my fingers out of her thick hair, avoiding meeting the numerous black filaments that effectively glued themselves to my hands.


    "Sorry, Luzon, but it''s about as dry as it''s going to get," unless my crewmates could find an unused towel to give me. Which was already being reported as a less than fruitful search.


    Luzon spun, practically giving me a point-blank tackle hug.


    "It''s okay!" her smile warmed my heart. We''d be out of here soon enough.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I let out a low groan as my body began to return to consciousness. What time was it? My eyes cracked open, only to reveal the darkness around me, not light filtering from the mouth of the cave. Luzon lay on top of me, breathing softly in her slumber.


    Okay brain, every funny. But I need to sleep right now, so please send me back to dreamland now. I closed my eyes, slowly beginning to nod off.


    Then I felt something. A rumble, moving its way through the ground. Earthquake? I paused, half ready to bolt at the next vibration. One second passed. Then another. Then another. Then another.


    Maybe not? Or not a major one, at any rate. Still, I scowled. What was I thinking? I knew the Philippians were right on the ring of fire! I should have thought about that sooner!


    Yeah, that''s something I needed on my mind. On top of being hunted by Abyssal''s through the jungle, I also now had to worry about volcanic eruptions and earthquakes. Alongside volcanic eruptions causing earthquakes and everyone''s favorite, earthquake causing eruptions! Thanks, brain. I needed that.


    Once again, I closed my eyes. My mind was probably going a bit too fast at this point for shutdown to be easy, but trying to get some sleep is better than nothing.


    Then another vibration came through. God damnit! My head bolted upwards, squinting. I wasn''t going to disturb Luzon unless I needed to, but this was getting old, fast. Just let me sleep, damn you!


    So, I stared into the inky darkness, making sure to keep my eyes trained towards what I was sure was the mouth. I only had to wait about a minute or so, before a faint flash came from the distance, followed by the sleep interrupting vibration.


    Okay. That was, concerning. Sure, I had no clue what was causing that flash, but it was either big enough to cause the vibration itself or was acting as a signal for, well, whatever the Abyssal''s were doing.


    My first reaction would be to start heading in a completely different direction. Whatever it was, it was bad news. And I indeed to stay clear of such. However, there was this pit in my gut. This raw, gnawing sense that ignoring the problem was a bad, bad idea.


    No, that was dumb. It had danger written all over it. I was a cruiser, for Pete''s sake! Whatever it was, I didn''t have the firepower to take out whatever it was anyway!


    I scowled, thoughts spilling around in my brain. Fine. I might as well investigate.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    This is bad. This is really bad. The words I could use to describe what lay before would get my mouth washed out with soap. Sure, it wasn''t the BFG, but it was still the largest gun I''d ever seen, period. And given I stood on the deck of the Missouri, with her sixteen-inch guns, that''s saying something.


    Also, I''d either gotten a lot further north than I expected, or my sense of distance was as much of a failure as it had ever been.


    Because, yeah, this thing was partially out to sea! Not by much, with a stone path connecting the battery to the mainland. Look, there was no beating around the bush on this one. That thing was going to have to go.


    A frontal assault was already off the table. From my position, I could already see dozens of destroyers, alongside a handful of cruisers and even a few battleships. That was not a fight I could win by any conceivable prospect. Placing the binoculars on the stone outcrop, I placed my hands on my head.


    There had to be a way to destroy that artillery piece, or at the very least render it inert. My six-inch shells were probably not strong enough to disable it, and there was no way I could survive the counterfire even if I could accomplish that!


    Planes? No, I don''t think that''s a good idea. Look. Those are scout planes, right? Do they even have bombs? I get it, nobody is going to expect an enemy air attack from the middle of their territory. But there''s the issue of launching without being detected, dropping the bombs and destroying that gun, and then somehow picking you guys up. Because those planes are floatplanes too! Coming in on land is just going to cause you to crash, and landing in the ocean leaves you prime for capture. Too risky, no matter how you spin it. And that''s not factoring AA into the equation.


    Really? Did I honestly not have any options here? Because when the calvary got here, I didn''t want them running into that rifle, still armed and operational.


    Pulling the binoculars back to my face, I began making mental notes. There was a cliff running into the ocean, just north of the battery. Probably cover from retaliatory fire, if I had to guess. Maybe get on the other side and just start lobbing shells over?


    No, that still wouldn''t work. My shells just didn''t have the punching power. Plus I''d be firing pretty much blind. Maybe leave a team for spotting? That might solve the accuracy problem, provided they couldn''t read my radio transmissions. I was certain that they could by this point. Sure, my distress call had been anything but subtle, but still. This wasn''t that desperate of a situation. Yet.


    I scowled, watching the surf in the distance. Yeah, a seabound assault was just as dumb as a frontal one. At this point, I was just about ready to call the disabled boiler a lost cause. Outrunning the cruisers down there would be impossible, much less the destroyer pack. Even outrunning a battleship would be a struggle, and I''d be in firing range for a lot longer, too.


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    Maybe I could swim up to it and disable it somehow? My crew froze up, seeming to shake their heads all at once. A bit too close for comfort, though I knew that''s not what they were shaking their heads about. It might work. A bit too close for comfort, perhaps, but possible.


    I just had no idea what to do once I got close. Engineering was not a strong suit of mine under the best of times. Yet alone disabling a colossal cannon that was made from whatever Cthulhu mythology they dredged up to create that thing. If just had some form of bomb-like explosive, it''d probably be a lot easier.


    Wait! That''s it! My depth charges! I''d been planning on using them like land mines! They could work here! Set them up around the gun, and rig them to blow! An elegant solution it was not, but I had little time for elegance.


    Alright, I had a plan. Now, all that I needed was to execute it.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Naturally, working on the bomb took time. According to my crew, it was more a crime against reasonable explosive design and against good sense to boot.


    Look, I''m not a bomb expert here! If I had it my way, I''d just duck tape a bunch of depth charges together. Elegant? Not. Was it functional? Yes.


    I''d hope, anyway. Seriously. I didn''t want that gun to be even recognizable by the time I was done with it. One-shot was all I had when it came to taking this thing out of commission, so, I wanted to make sure I did it right. If that meant overkill, then I was bringing overkill. Of course, I had no idea what constituted overkill when I didn''t get much of an up-close look at the thing, so I was mostly just slapping together almost all the depth charges I possessed, keeping a handful in reserve.


    Because knowing my luck? The water''s just around the gun were probably swarming with shark-like submarines. No, I wasn''t sure what abyssal submarines looked like, but it wouldn''t surprise me!


    Honestly, I''d take it over squids, personally.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Under the cover of darkness, I crept along, slithering through the underbrush towards my destination. All I had were the faint twinkling of stars overhead, mostly obscured by leaves, and soon, the lapping of waves against stone. Eventually, the foliage parted, the light of the moon illuminating the landscape before me. It''s mirror danced on the ocean surf, eerie light reflecting off the water''s surface.


    Beside me was the cliff, jutting out into the water. I took a deep breath, doing what I could to steady my nerves, the bomb secured safely in my haul, though ready to be brought out at a moment''s notice.


    I didn''t like leaving Luzon like this, but it was best that she didn''t have to worry. Bringing the poor child this close to an Abyssal was the last thing I wanted to do, either. She''d be safer back at camp then she would be right now.


    Finally, I stepped into the surf, warm water lapping its way between my toes, up my legs, and higher still as I began to swim, doing my best to keep quiet. My head only peaked above the water for a gulp of fresh air as I paddled against the waves. Which wasn''t as easy as it sounded.


    Slowly, I made it out to more open waters, with less turbulence, allowing the ocean to settle. Moonlight shone faintly through the water, providing some light into what would by inky darkness. I continued, using the light to guide my path towards the massive battery, which was silent. Strange. Nightfall hadn''t stopped them from firing it last time. Maybe just a weapons test?


    Well, too late to pull back now. My eyes continued to scan the water below me, hoping to pick up on any submarines lurking in the water, but I hadn''t spotted anything.


    Once again, I felt the night air on my face as I silently rose to the surface. Thanks to the light of the moon, my vision wasn''t awful. In the faint silver, I could make out the weapon, alongside anything around it.


    Nothing. It was, by all accounts, completely unguarded. I scowled, peaking towards the coastline proper. No, that couldn''t be right. There was no way they could leave a battery like this undefended. There was absolutely no way this wasn''t some form of trap.


    But if it wasn''t, and Abyssal''s were just that bad at having good sense, then I had to take advantage of this opportunity. I quickly moved to get as much as the oversized gun between me and the shore as possible, before getting to work.


    Setting up the explosive only took a few moments, as it had pretty much been set up and ready to go for some time. All that was left to do was arm the timer, and get the hell out of dodge.


    The timer began to count down as I dived into the ocean, already hearing the stirring of voices in the distance. Even with the water acting as a buffer, I felt the boom, as the shockwave tore its way through the surf.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Slowly, painstakingly slowly, I pulled myself to shore. That timer had not been long enough. Nowhere near long enough. I hissed, pain flaring up in my leg, as I reached down and pulled out the blade metal shard that embedded itself there before I threw it into the surf. The rest of my body was covered in cuts, each trickling blood, and I sported several bruises from the debris rocketed from the blast.


    I began moving towards the jungle, doing my best to ignore the pain in my leg. Hopefully, the lead I had on any pursers would be sufficient. My crew wasn''t happy with even more damage control work, but I couldn''t help but feel like it was worth it. I don''t know where the feeling came from, but something told me I should be quite smug about destroying that gun.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    There was a loud crack, stone shattering under the strength of her fist. Quite frankly, she wished it was a skull instead, so she could feel the pain and suffering of the life she just extinguished. But the human praise about not shooting messengers applied here. No matter how tempting it was.


    Despite everything, there was a plus to the situation, even if it was a bitter one. The cruiser likely wasn''t that far away, which meant they weren''t randomly searching the jungle anymore. Their search had been narrowed down, considerably. Now all that was left to do was capture her.


    By any means necessary.

 Chapter 10

    "Do you think the rumors are true, nee-chan?" Hiei turned to her older sister. Calling this operation strange would be accurate, to say the least. First, an SOS message was sent from Cruiser without any identification had been received, only that the cruiser was an American one, right off the coast of the Philippines. Then, after contact had been reestablished, it turned out the Cruiser did have a name. And she was accompanied by another shipgirl that could be anything to a repair vessel to a torpedo boat.


    Just one that was never used by a vessel of the United States Navy. Maybe strange wasn''t correct. Suspicious, on the other hand, was feeling at least a bit accurate. And while the US admiral had stated they had a hypothesis about the identity of this unknown Cruiser, beyond that he had been tight-lipped on the matter.


    However, she hadn''t been the only one to notice that he was even more strangely tight-lipped on the matter whenever Seattle was within earshot. In fact, she was pretty sure everyone noticed it, including many of the human personal and support crew.


    This was why not even seconds after setting sail, rumors began flying around like leaves in a storm. Most were fairly simple. Some type of paper ship, or even an uncompleted and unnamed vessel, had somehow been summoned within enemy territory. Given the number of ships the United States had left unfinished by the war''s end, this wasn''t outrageous, or unthinkable.


    However, among the more stranger theories, while being much more out there, made more and more sense. If this was simply just another unfinished ship or even a known class, then there would be very little reason to remain so tight-lipped around Seattle. Maybe unless this new ship was a Cleaveland, but even then that could be a stretch.


    No, this theory stated that not only was this vessel a paper ship but was somehow, second in class to Seattle herself. Which, given how Seattle was a paper ship that never got past being a blueprint, didn''t make sense. But, it did go farther than anything else to explain why Seattle was being left out of the loop.


    Seattle didn''t have a malicious bone in her body. There was little doubt in Hiei''s mind, however, that Seattle, if she thought a sister of hers was under threat, would likely react like Hiei herself. Single-handedly storm the Philippines until every threat to her sister was dead and buried. Re lurking around be damned.


    "I do think Seattle might just have an imouto-san," Kongou nodded her head. There was a slight grin on her face, though Hiei could tell there was a twitch of smugness to it.


    "Please don''t tell me that this has anything to do with the agreement between you and Seattle, nee-chan," Hiei frowned slightly.


    "Nonsense," Kongou gasped, faking injury. "I just think Seattle having an imouto would do her good is all." Hiei simply rolled her eyes. She knew her sister well enough, that wasn''t the only thing Kongou was thinking.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I growled, slowly making my way through the jungle. Despite removing the darkened piece of Abyssal metal that had impaled itself in my leg, the wound still was causing me trouble. Even with another makeshift bandage to stimmy the bleeding, pain lanced its way through my nerves whenever I took a step forward.


    Light was already filtering through the canopy, a harbinger that day had already arrived. I was going to be later than I expected. Later than I probably needed, too. Hopefully, by the time I''d got there, Luzon would still be asleep. She had a tendency to sleep like a rock, though I doubt explaining why my leg got lacerated was within my capacities.


    Given my limp, she was bound to notice, one way or another. But for that gigantic shore battery?


    I''d make that trade and make it gladly. Even if the cost was higher than I''d like. Of course, I just hoped that I hadn''t made a choice that would end up crippling me in the long run.


    The only plus is that my crew was returning that nothing important had been damaged, just a gash in the hull that was already being patched over. I wasn''t going to question the somewhat good fortune, but it certainly left me perplexed. The last time I''d taken a hit to the leg, it''d knocked a boiler out of commission. This time, I''d just got a fancy cut.


    Maybe it was because I was more human at the time? I shook my head, chasing out the recent thoughts. There would be time for that later. Getting back to Luzon was far more important than chasing butterflies.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    It took longer than it should have. Quite frankly, insultingly longer. Ship me may have been pretty much fine, but my human side? I''d used laceration as a joke, but now I was convinced something important got cut. Probably be best if I had my medical specialist, if I had one, to give it a look. If it somehow interacted more with my human self, then having an infection or similar run wild was not an event I''d wish to experience.


    After a few more moments, I finally pulled myself over the ledge, and into relative safety, panting slightly in both exhaustion and pain. I wanted nothing more than to just lay down, and sleep. Even my eyes began to droop as my body rested against the cool stone. Even as every aching muscle in my body screamed in exhaustion, I forced myself up, looking around.


    My eyes narrowed as I looked into the cave. It was still shaded, even with the sun rising ever higher in the sky. However, that didn''t stop me from seeing what lay within, if only to my panicked alarm.


    Nothing. There was absolutely nothing here. Now, I was standing completely, staggering to my feet, barely managing to balance myself. Had I gotten the coordinates wrong? No, there was still a small pile of burnt-out sticks. Which meant this was it.


    My teeth began to grind into one another, as I could barely keep my balance. Luzon was missing, gone, not a trace left behind. Where was she? Normally, she didn''t wander far and likely to hear my approach. By now, Luzon would have announced her presence, as she had before.


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    But I could hear nothing that indicated she was nearby. Nor see anything, for that matter. Surely, she''d know better to wander too far, but I couldn''t help but feel the sinking rock beginning to form in my gut.


    Worst-case scenarios already began to flicker through my mind, an uninterrupted train of thought. What if she had been kidnapped? What if she''d run off, only to get injured and lost? What if she thought I had abandoned her?


    The last one? That one hurt the most. I had no intention of leaving her behind. Not now, not ever. I''d even told her this.


    But she was traumatized. The thought stopped me cold, chills reverberating through my spine. Damn it, I should have thought about that! Of course, Luzon would think I abandoned her, leaving in the middle of the night completely unannounced! I''m such an idiot!


    I wanted to scream, to yell, venting my frustration at my stupidity. Lash out at something, anything, to get my mind away from the thoughts bouncing around. Reverberating through my skull like a cacophony of dark whispers, feeding off one another in a frenzy.


    However, I breathed. Yes, I was angry, no, furious at myself. But all that anger, all gathering darkness in my mind? It wasn''t going to help me. No amount of anger was going to make her come back. No amount of self-pity and doubt would help me find her.


    And that''s what I intended to do. Damn my sleep deprivation, and even more certainly, damn my leg! I wasn''t going to let either stop me!


    First thing''s first. Where could she have gone? Despite her appearance, Luzon was both a heavy sleeper and a late riser. Which meant she could have gotten up anywhere from a few minutes ago, to quite possibly hours ago. Which without a trail, left me with far too much area to reasonably cover, in realistic terms. Finding one wouldn''t be impossible, but I wasn''t seeing anything that could even hint at such.


    But there were quite a few good hiding spots in the area I''d seen. Some of which I couldn''t use myself, but someone of Luzon''s size certainly could. Plus, the outcrop was quite considerable in the expanse. There were other places she could have gone, without abandoning safety up here. Even if I didn''t find her, I might just find a clue of some kind that could help me.


    It was a plan, I guess. Certainly a sounder one than just taking off into the jungle, and any rate. Heck, I should probably give the cave a thorough inspection, just to be on the safe side.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I scowled, slowly making my way towards the small pond I''d taught Luzon at just two days prior. I''d been leaving it for last. I wasn''t sure why. It was close to the cave, so there was really no excuse.


    A rock tinked away, skipping across the ground as my foot bumped into it. I suppose there wasn''t an excuse. Not really. I just didn''t want to. Even if it should have been one of, if not the first places I looked.


    Slowly, I began my descent into the bowl, keeping a gingerly pace down the pebbly ramp, doing what I could to avoid aggravating my leg. Even now, the place felt dreary, compared to its original beauty.


    Was that? My ears twitched, an unnatural sound carried through the air. A sniffle? Yes, it was! I heard it again! It was Luzon! It had to be! She hadn''t gone far after all!


    I began to sprint towards the source, ignoring my leg screaming in agonizing protest.


    "Luzon!" I shouted, finally reaching the smaller torpedo boat, curled up in a small ball, legs pressed against her chest.


    "Luzon," I kneeled down towards her, reaching out with my hand. Words could not describe how much it hurt to watch her recoil away from my touch like she was about to be struck.


    "You left me. You told me you wouldn''t, yet you did," Luzon''s words drove a dagger straight into my heart, one coated in shame.


    The worst part was, she wasn''t wrong. I had left her. My intention may have been to return. But intentions didn''t always matter.


    "I''m sorry, Luzon. I really am," I did my best to look Luzon in the eye, though she avoided my gaze, making me feel even more filthy. "I shouldn''t have left you like that. I should have told you what I planned on doing, rather than sneaking away into the night."


    Shakely, Luzon''s gaze met mine, eyes slowly blinking away tears.


    "I didn''t want you to worry. But," a brief pause hung in the air. "I only hurt you more. Only caused you more grief and suffering."


    The last bit of strength in my leg gave out as I slumped onto my knees. I ended up hurting the one I was supposed to protect. Talk about failure.


    "What were you doing?" if Luzon had spoken any softer, I wouldn''t have heard her at all.


    "There was a coastal battery. A large one. Given our imminent rescue, I thought it should be removed, before it can do any damage," I frowned slightly. That thing needed to go, regardless. "I''m sorry if it sounds like an excuse, but."


    The change in Luzon''s expression made me pause. At first, it was the look of impression, but it swiftly morphed into a mask of fear.


    "We need to go," Luzon grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me back to my feet with surprising strength, before pulling me along. "We need to go now."


    The fear in her voice partially filled the air, an oppressive miasma radiating around her. Like a vortex, or even a title wave.


    She''d run into the Re before as well. Luzon hadn''t spoken about it, but it was clear. That monstrosity of an aviation battleship left an impression. How could she not? Worse yet, she was something I couldn''t straight-up fight. I mean, I couldn''t fight battleships either, but that was beside the point. Still, I had ideas.


    Even if she wasn''t coming, certainly every inch of the jungle was being combed for our presence.


    And getting caught?


    Wasn''t an option.

 Chapter 11

    "What the hell was that?" while Shiho didn''t often agree with Mackeral''s vernacular, this time, it was strangely fitting. Under the cover of night, it was safe to generally rest on the surface, even more so with them being outside the general patrol range.


    That didn''t stop either of them, or more accurately, their crews, noticing the erupting fireball that had lanced upwards, and for a brief moment, lighting up the moonlight night like it was the daytime sun.


    Even if she didn''t want to, an investigation would be warranted. At the very least, an attempt at such. There was simply too much going on to leave this unreported, even if it wasn''t the result of the mystery cruiser. Said cruiser that still had a member of her crew aboard at that. Shiho hadn''t heard from them in some time.


    She understood why, of course. Radio silence was to be completely maintained. Even if this cruiser hadn''t received orders, she''d already displayed a reluctance to make use of such contact methods unless completely necessary.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    1:30 Large explosion sighted off the eastern coast of the Philippines. Cause unknown. Origin unknown. Moving closer to investigate.


    2:43 Abyssal forces in disarray. However, numerous destroyers and cruisers are in the area. Pulling back to standby point.


    Admiral Richardson kept going over these two sections of the report. One explosion of indeterminate size, but likely extensive given the range Mackerel and I-402 were able to spot it likely massive. More than enough to stir up chaos among the Abyssal fleet. So much so that either submarine did not feel comfortable getting any closer out of fear of being discovered.


    The odds of it being a simple accident were extremely low. Which meant their cruiser was the most likely culprit. Even if the azimuth direction she had given them during her first and so far only transmission had her going in a westerly direction.


    Numerous events could have occurred for her to double back east. Intensifying enemy presence, realizing there wasn''t enough time to cover that much ground in time for rescue. Or she simply suffered from poor navigation.


    He''d worked with enough US vessels to know that each was just as likely as the other. Honestly, his gut was already telling him it was the latter case if anything.


    At least they now had a general location to start from. And it wouldn''t be hard to guess where she went next. Heading east into the open ocean would be tantamount to suicide. West would simply put her further into enemy territory. South would result in a much similar position. Staying in place was likely out as well, given the activity reported.


    Which left northward, along the coast, about the only place Isabell could reasonably go. He''d have to send a message to Vestal''s crew, provided the submarines hadn''t done so on their incentive.


    Regardless, if that Abyssal was as half as smart as he thought it was, then it''d know that too. Maybe not about their reinforcements, but the fact Isabell would likely retreat northward as a form of safety. Maybe even expect the light cruiser might attempt to flee via the ocean, after closing the distance on land.


    If she did that, then it was possible to take it by surprise, or at least a significant portion of its force. Given the situation, he''d take any leg up he could get.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    This. This right here? This was the reception I had been expecting if I managed to make landfall. I''d expected to be hunted like my grandfather used to hunt deer.


    I''d have to apologize to the deer because it was not a pleasant feeling. And to think, this was only part of the reason Luzon was traumatized.


    Slowly, I peeked my head around the tree we''d been hiding behind. I hadn''t heard any noise for several minutes now, meaning the destroyers had likely passed us by. But I wasn''t throwing caution to the wind here. Being spotted meant death or even capture at this point, and I still wasn''t sure which fate was worse.


    I made a gesture, a more or less all clear to Luzon. Yeah, that''s one of the first things I''m doing when we make it back to civilization. Brush up on my sign langue. Honestly, there is no reason I should be struggling this much right now.


    Luzon rushed to my side as I limbed along. Having boiler down was bad enough? But this? If we weren''t stuck in the middle of enemy territory right now, I would experiment with this.


    Safely, of course.


    But seriously, this was slowing me down way too much. Making it even worse was the fact the further northward we got, the more and more patrols we came across. Which, quite frankly, sucked. I''d consider retreating inland, but honestly, in my current state? We''d probably have a better chance breaking towards the ocean, rather than going inland.


    Of course, giving up the cover of the jungle would be, suboptimal to say the least. They were the only reason we hadn''t been spotted yet, and it wasn''t due to lack of effort on the Abyssal''s part.


    Another noise lanced through the air, with Luzon and I ducking back into cover as an Abyssal plane screamed overhead.


    The moment we got spotted, we were going to be drowned in the buggers. Sure, I was a US light cruiser. I was good, and Luzon was a minuscule target, but my first encounter with planes nearly ended up with my busting myself up. I''d shot down all of them, but still. It was a narrow thing, and they''d come at us with a lot more planes than what I managed to blow out of the sky.


    A lot more. Light carriers I could probably beat in a gunfight, but a full fleet carrier, in my current state, was not a vessel I wanted to mess with. Provided they were launching aircraft of carriers. Which, for all I knew, they could have an airfield hidden away somewhere. And quite frankly, I''d pushed my luck enough as is with the cannon. Probably more than pushing it.


    But what was done was done. No sense in worrying about the past right now. The present was full of enough dangers.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Caves made for good shelter. Certainly beats being out in the open.


    Though now my eyes remained glued towards the entrance, despite the guards being set up to cover the mouth of the cave. Causing a cave-in with shellfire and starving us out would be an effective strategy. As much as one made for great cover, it also backed us into a corner.


    Luzon muttered softly, nuzzling into me further. Maybe I was being a bit paranoid here. But I couldn''t help it. At this point, my brain was a buzzing mess, and as much as I wanted, no, needed, sleep, I couldn''t find the off switch. This had been a problem in far less stressful situations, but back then I had medicine to at least compensate.


    No such luck here. Hell, did medicine even work on shipgirls?


    I internally smacked myself before my brain could go any further. This? Thoughts like these weren''t going to help in the slightest. Seriously, I should try to put these errant thoughts towards something useful. Like a way out of this mess?


    Honestly, I didn''t exactly know what to do. The Re was in charge, or at least, I thought the aviation battleship was the head around here. And she was an odd cookie. Even if I''d only seen her once, I''d landed here without dying, which was proof enough she wasn''t the typical Abyssal.


    She built coastal batteries. Large ones, that could probably devastate attackers once they got into range. But rather than facing northward, towards Japan, they faced eastward. Well, anecdotally, anyway. I had no idea if there were northern facing batteries. Or maybe my sense of direction was messed up again. But if that were the case, quite frankly, a major if, it said something crucial.


    Unless I happened to bypass, without noticing, a major human force or stronghold, there would be no reason to expect an immediate attack from the east. Unless Abyssal''s were fighting one another.


    Mercifully, Abyssal''s didn''t work as Orks did, but I digress, that isn''t important.


    What it did mean, hypothetically speaking, that the bulk of her forces were prepared to prevent intrusion from other Abyssal groups, rather than shipgirl forces. And, again, to my knowledge, Abyssal''s weren''t exactly known for being subtle, rushing headlong into battle like crazed Berserkers.


    That''s what made the ones that thought and strategized so dangerous. It was uncharacteristic behavior, and it was prone to be grossly underestimated.


    Plus the fact it''d been able to hold this much territory was no small task, either. Quite frankly, either it''d been passive towards humanity to prevent them from trying to reclaim what would easily be an excellent launch point to reclaim the rest of the South Pacific, or she''d made taking the Philippines more trouble than it was worth.


    Those or things had gone really far south. Of course, to lose the Philippines in the first place was probably a sign things were quite pear-shaped as is.


    I''d take the former line of thought over the latter. I''d hope it was more of a situation of having bigger fish to fry.


    But did that mean it could be negotiated with? It let me live for a reason, even if I didn''t know what reason it was.


    I scowled. Doubtful. Why it''d let me live was hardly likely to be benign. I wasn''t dumb enough to be sold a bridge, even one I''d be trying to sell to myself.


    But it was the head. I hoped the Re was the head of this, because if it wasn''t, then the thought that ran through my mind was truly dumb.


    My leg, ironically enough, was the key. This throbbing, painful mess? It gave me an idea. A dreadfully dumb one, yes, but an idea none the less.


    Fight the Re. Dumb? Absolutely. But if it wanted to kill me, it had every opportunity to. And I most certainly wanted it dead. And normally, I didn''t have the firepower, not even close. But that''s where my leg came in. There was overlap, between my human body and my ship components. Abyssal''s, especially the humanoid ones, were likely the same. Logically speaking, what would be the best analog for a ship''s bridge?


    The head. More accurately, the brain. Much like the brain controlled the body, the captain controlled the ship from the bridge. Navigation, command, and many other crucial components were kept in the bridge.


    So what happened when the bridge became disrupted? Well, if the command staff wasn''t outright killed, I''d imagine it''d be akin to a concussion. I''ve had one of those. Not a fun experience. Sure, far from a fatal blow, but a concussed anything was much slower, unsteady, unable to see straight, etc.


    A lot less threatening. A lot less able to command.


    Not to say it was without risk. I''d have to get close. Real close. Close enough I can dump nine shells right into its forehead. Way too close for there to be any comfort.


    But that was only if I went out into the water. Which sadly, was not going to happen. My boiler was still down, so while Luzon could certainly go the distance, I wasn''t. And quite frankly, getting her to leave me behind? Right now, Luzon was pretty much attached to my hip.


    She wasn''t going to let me out of her sight if only to make sure I didn''t go running off again. Which I wouldn''t anyway. My leg injury assured me that of much, even if I wanted to.


    Slowly, I felt my brain''s activity fade into the humming background. Good. I wondered how long it was going to take for my exhaustion to catch up with me. My eyes began to cease their wandering, and I fell asleep.


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    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    My sleep was uncharacteristically long as it was deep. Something I was thankful for. I''d been running on a tank of near-empty for close to two days by the time I''d finally gotten to rest.


    Sleep helped, at the very least. Even if it made the pain in my leg a bit sharper, my mind was no longer lagging, which was a big plus. Still, I recalled my half-baked plan, if one could call it much of a plan.


    At this point, it was a contingency of an unlikely event that shouldn''t come to pass. Though it certainly didn''t stop me from mulling the details over. If I needed to get close enough, my depth charges could give me sufficient cover when thrown, maybe even prevent it from launching planes.


    Still, evasion was the name of the game. Didn''t have to fight if we never got caught. Hell, I was perfectly fine not even taking advantage of the element of surprise to avoid combat altogether.


    Sadly, it wasn''t exactly an easy game. I scowled from behind cover, waiting for another of what felt like a train-line of destroyers made their way by. How many vessels did it have under its command? Either we were the absolute focus of its attention, or its forces easily numbered over a hundred.


    Or we could be just running into the same group over and over. Another distinct possibility. I certainly wasn''t popping my head out or dedicating memory space for every single time a Destroyer crossed our path without knowing. It might be usual in figuring out the odd, but I often struggled with putting names to human faces. This would be a hundred times worse.


    Still, it was either my imagination or the time it took waiting for them to pass was getting longer and longer. And if it was the latter, then that was a bad sign.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I stared out onto the water, as I felt Luzon quake against my side. Quite frankly, I couldn''t blame her. Breaking out into the ocean wasn''t my plan, and it certainly wasn''t now. At least a dozen cruisers of various sizes, and I''m pretty sure a battleship. Sure they weren''t doing much, but that was more firepower than we could ever contend with.


    We''d stumbled across the coast on pure accident as well. Thankfully, they weren''t paying any attention inland, or we may have been spotted. After a brief retreat to the treeline and into the shrubbery, we decided to observe for a moment.


    Still, we''d have to go further and further northward. The opposition was bound to only increase, and we were restricted to overland travel. Which was naturally, much slower, even without my leg causing us to lag even more than it had before.


    They could hop up and down the coast at their leisure, while we were stuck hobbling around.


    This was going to be a pain.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I bit my tongue, hard, to prevent me from yelping as pain jolted me awake, finally stirring me from my slumber. It wasn''t enough to let a sound that was all too much like a whimper leak out. I looked down at Luzon for a moment. She was still sleeping despite the noise.


    Then my gaze turned to the offending limb. While the sharp and intense shot was now beginning to subside, it felt different somehow. Like it was vibrating.


    A yawn died in my throat. You know what? So long as it wasn''t life-threatening, then it could probably wait until morning.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Wait? You guys did what?


    I know. I know. But I thought you said it was going to be impossible at this point.


    Seriously. You guys are miracle workers. Pat yourselves on the back, and get some rest. You deserve it.


    I had to admit, that was good news. Excellent, in fact. Borderline miraculous, really. The pain from last night?


    That was my knocked out boiler coming back to life. I''d written it off entirely by this point. The fact my crew got the thing back online even partially would have been enough to cause me to bounce with glee. But they managed to resuscitate the whole thing!


    Impressive damage control work that was going to have to be rewarded somehow. After we got back into port. Maybe ice cream or something. Food for thought.


    Still, this was a complete blessing, no matter how one looked at it. Luzon didn''t know about the good news yet, as she was still sleeping, but this increased our options significantly. Making a break over the ocean was now a considerable possibility. Sure, I couldn''t outrun a fast destroyer, but with enough head start, it wouldn''t matter in the long run.


    Aircraft would still be an issue, but how far out could the relief fleet be at this point? A day or two at most? Spotting a cruiser and a PT boat wouldn''t be easy, while the fleet heading our way probably had carriers, spotting planes, massive battleships. It wouldn''t be hard to spot them and make our way over. Which would seriously deter further airstrikes.


    Plus, once we got far enough out, I could probably start using my radio transmission again. Sure, it would mean we could be tracked by Abyssal''s, but it also meant we could communicate with the relief fleet.


    Still, this wasn''t something I would undertake lightly. Or without talking it over with Luzon. Full stop. All the cards on the table.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Will this work?" Luzon''s voice was small, not that I blamed her.


    "We don''t have to do this if you don''t want to," I knelt down, patting her on the head softly. It seemed to calm her down if only a little.


    I just hoped I was hiding my sense of unease well enough. The coast looked clear. I wasn''t seeing anything out of the ordinary. Still. Something just didn''t sit right.


    "No. I think we should run," there was a bit that hung in the air. I knew exactly what Luzon was talking about. The fate of the Mosquito Fleet.


    Slowly, as one, we stepped out into the water, rigging flaring to life. I almost lost myself in the feeling, not realizing how much I had missed it. Even with all the fleeing and the shooting.


    The plan was a simple one. Break northeast until we were out of sight from land, before swinging northward, cutting slightly west towards where the fleet would likely be coming from.


    Luzon had to dial back on her throttle for me to keep up. I mean, I understood that small size often came with greater speed, but she hit a blistering forty knots by the time she realized I was starting to lag behind. And she only looked like she was about to hit her stride.


    Still, my eyes scanned the skies, looking for any potential threats to our escape. No planes had shown up yet, but that only made me feel more ill at ease.


    You know what? I''m probably full paranoid at this point.


    And that''s when two geysers of water erupted around us. I scowled, pulling around a one-eighty degree turn as Luzon nearly got swamped, pushing out sputtering and spitting.


    Coming face to face with my worst nightmare.


    How could an aviation battleship be that stealthy? How!


    This was bad, real bad. Even more so was Luzon beginning to slow down, preparing to turn around.


    "Go!" I shouted, causing the smaller vessel to jump. "I''ll be fine! Remember the plan!" She tettered for a moment, caught between two choices she didn''t want to make, before speeding off.


    I didn''t want to be a liar so soon, but in this case, there might not be an alternative. We were both in range. Someone was going to have to play distraction. Might as well be me. After all, odds were, it didn''t want me dead.


    The range began to close. I''d begun to move, slowly and leisurely back and forth, both to calm my nerves, but to make sure I wasn''t that easy of a target. But it hadn''t fired another salvo. Instead, it crept closer and closer, until it came to a stop.


    "Well, well, well," its voice was cold as the grave. Like a corpse that could somehow speak. "You seem confident, little human."


    I came to a complete stop. What the? How? How did it know that? Immediately, my guns swiveled, aiming towards the Re, as I gulped down my fear. My face had to have betrayed my shock, as it chuckled.


    "How? I can see your spirit, Kanmusu. It is weak, but it has grown stronger. But still not strong enough to betray what you once were," its laughter echoed like a haunted record.


    Then, in a second, it was on me, face twisting with a savage grin as I staggered back, taken off guard by the sudden burst of speed, as her fingers found their way around my neck.


    I tried to kick at its chest, struggling against its iron grip. It was about as effective as one might imagine. Do it. Do it now! My crew sprang into action as I clenched my fist, waiting for the right moment.


    "It''s almost a pity. I expected more out of you," I growled in response, the most verbalization I could do with her fingers wrapped tightly around my throat. I would have said ''expect this'', but that certainly would give away I had something up my sleeve.


    Or in this case, a depth charge. I felt the device slip into my fingers, pausing for a moment before throwing it. The Re seemed taken aback, its eyes tracking what I had thrown as it sailed past her head.


    It opened its mouth as if to speak before the depth charge detonated. Its finger''s loosened, sending my body back towards the ocean surface, air rushing in to fill my lungs. I gasped, taking in as much of the salty sea breeze as possible, doing my best to ignore the smell of gunpowder that hung in the air.


    "You''ll have to do better than that," its voice taunted, the Re practically unscathed from the blast.


    "I''m aware," I ground out as it loomed over me, regarding me like a child regarded an insect. I looked up at its face, eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure. I wanted to see the look on its face.


    My nine remaining guns swiveled around, aiming directly at the Re''s head. For a brief moment, its eye''s widened, before I fired. Gunpowder bloomed, obscuring its face as nine armor-piercing shells were launched at point-blank range. I didn''t wait for a moment. I took off like a rocket, speeding away like hell was right on my heels. As it probably was. Now I just needed enough distance to regroup with Luzon. While its command was sorting out the mess I''d left the Re in.


    Then something wrapped around my arm, grabbing it like a vice. For the brief moment I could, I struggled, eyes widening in terror, before I was yanked back, my neck finding itself being crushed, breath dying in my throat.


    "That. Hurt," its voice was now consumed by rage. Anger. Even disgust. "I''ll applaud you that much. You hurt me. I underestimated you. Too many times now. I''m not making that mistake again."


    Its grip loosened, allowing me to breathe once again. I gasped, lungs pumping like mad. I needed to break out. I needed to escape.


    "I think. I''ll make sure you can''t run away anymore," its hand began to wrap around my leg as I struggled and kicked. Then it began to pull.


    My leg screamed in protest, metal groaning as it was bent and torn in ways it was never meant to. I ground my teeth together, unwilling to give it the satisfaction of seeing me scream in pain. But tears had already begun to well up in my eyes as I struggled more and more.


    Then, with a bloody squelch, my leg came free.


    I heard someone scream, as my vision began to blur.


    I think it was me.

 Chapter 12

    "Status report!"


    "Sir, we received an SOS signal identical to USS Isabella''s first at 10:30, running up until 11:11, slowly moving eastward back towards the Philippines. We tried repeatedly to establish radio contact, but the presence of Abyssal''s is jamming our signal."


    That was ill news. Under normal circumstances, Johnson would have written the light cruiser off as sunk already.


    However, he was under strict orders to not treat this as a standard operation. Though even without those orders he would have been suspicious about the situation. USS Isabella had been allowed to make landfall once before, so her being sunk was unlikely.


    Which meant capture was on the table. And that was arguably worse. Abyssal''s did not tend to take prisoners. Let alone shipgirl ones.


    "Furthermore, we''ve been receiving another radio signal of unknown origins. Unencrypted. But it''s not in English or Japanese, sir."


    "Can you track the signal? It may be our mystery Luzon."


    If it was Luzon, that merely raised more questions. However, she might be able to provide several answers. Provided they could find her.


    "Yes sir. It''s faint but trackable. Should I send a request for one of the carriers to deploy one of her scouts to check out the area?"


    Johnson paused. They would likely need all the air cover they could get once the Abyssal forces became aware of their presence. However, having eyes in the sky would prove useful before they sent out the scout group to pick her up.


    "Very well. How much longer until Mackerel and I-402 arrive at the rendezvous point?"


    "A half-hour, sir. I-402 made it sound like she had important information for you."


    Johnson raised his eyebrow. That was peculiar if nothing else.


    "And she didn''t transmit it?"


    "No sir. All she said is that she felt the information was too important to let be released over radio transmission, so she wished to deliver it personally."


    Odd. Considerably odd. Whatever it was, he certainly hoped the information was as certain as I-402 was implying it was.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Pain was the first thing I felt. Wracking pain, across every inch of my body. My eyes opened slowly, groggily, like keeping them closed would keep away the spasms making their way through me.


    I tried to raise my hand to cover my eyes from the bright, burning light that hung above my face. I tried again. And again. And again.


    Why wasn''t my arm moving?


    Slowly, my head turned, tilting over to look at my arm. My eye''s widened, as I tried to raise my other.


    I whipped my head around, only to find it was in the same state. I panicked, struggling with as much strength as I could muster, fighting against the chains that bound my remaining limbs. But my response was weak, hardly enough to rattle the chains in the first place. Tears were already beginning to well up in my eyes as I fought.


    I needed to get free! I needed to get out! I needed to escape!


    "I''m surprised. I expected it to take longer for you to wake up."


    My blood turned to ice. No, it was here. Slowly, my head turned towards the glowing blue pits staring at my face, its mouth cruel grin.


    "Of course, I didn''t expect you to be such a nuisance, either," it hummed, something dark twisting in its hand before it fell from my line of sight.


    Slowly, it stood, tail swishing behind it like a cobra, bobbing back and forth. Each step it took was like a glacier to me. Advancing, but agonizingly oppressive, a mighty, unstoppable wall that one could only flee from.


    But I couldn''t run. Couldn''t flee. I was chained in place. With nothing but my fear.


    "So. If you don''t want this to hurt," it slammed down a blade right next to my skull. It was probably meant to be some type of knife. But to me, it was too jagged, a hunk of black Abyssal steel. "You will tell me everything you know."


    That was incredibly generic. Not that I''d tell it that, but still. Tell me everything you know? That''s not partially useful or specific.


    "Such as?" I bit down on my urge to be a smartass. As cathartic as it would be, I''m still being interrogated by the eldritch abomination with a knife. Me doing that would shave a few years off my life. At best.


    It chuckled, running the flat of the cold blade against my cheek.


    "You aren''t exactly in a position to be playing dumb. The reinforcements. How many are coming? What is their formation? When will they arrive?" its eyes bored into my skull like drills.


    "It''s coming," I paused. Well, yeah, that''s about the extent of my knowledge of what''s happening.


    "From?" the knife ground against the table, a grating sound that made my ears want to die.


    "That''s it. That''s all I know," I blinked. "Wait, you expected them to tell me anything more? The person trapped behind enemy lines and could become compromised at any moment? That''s"


    I screamed as a knife buried its way into my still good leg, twisting as it went. Right, Eldritch Abomination with a knife.


    "You expect me to believe that? With your crew burning how many documents during the boarding? What do you know?" it ground out, as my teeth bit into my lip to keep myself from screaming as it twisted the knife again.


    Tears were already welling up in my eyes, both from the physical pain and from the fact I realized why I was so sluggish. The familiar feeling of my crew was gone. They''d been with me since I woke up, and yet now?


    Still. They went down fighting. I couldn''t ask for more than that. I wasn''t going to let their sacrifice go to waste, either.


    "I know nothing. I just know that they''re coming," I grimaced, the knife being buried deeper into my flesh, scraping against the bone.


    "You expect me to believe that?" it growled, barring down on me.


    "Whether or not you believe it is irrelevant. It''s the simple fact of the matter," I had to resist adding a ''whether you like it or not'', at the end. Blood was already oozing its way out of my leg, some twisted combination of red and black.


    It stared down at me for a moment, before slowly extracting the knife from my leg. I stifled a hiss of pain as the blade finally came free, covered in red and black sludge. I think it was oil? It better be oil.


    "Is that so?" It rubbed a cloth over the implement, not that I''d honestly notice the difference. "Then bring in the girl."


    Wait? What? No. NONONONONONONO! How! Luzon is faster than any of them! How did she, no. Unless they had a late war destroyer, there was no way!


    There was no way. It was bluffing. It had to be. Continuing pursuit in its state?


    "You would have led with that from the start," its eyebrow rose, turning slightly towards me.


    "Oh? And what makes you think that?"


    "You were by yourself. You are slower than she is. Unless you somehow chased her down with me on your back like a sack of potatoes, she''s not here."


    It paused for a moment before its mouth began to twist into a grin.


    "You should have fallen for the bluff."


    Well. Shit.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Sir, I think my scout plane has found our missing ship," Kaga''s lips twitched into a slight frown as she read through the contact report. The Admiral in charge of this mission nodded, signaling her to continue.


    "She''s around 124 degrees east, and 16 degrees north, currently turning towards the Southwest," she watched as an officer placed a thumbtack on the map at her reported position.


    "She''s heading south-west?"


    "I believe she spotted my plane first, sir, and changed course. I don''t know if she realizes if we''re here to help her," she paused for a moment, mulling over part of the report. "She''s also very small, sir. Smaller than a destroyer, I think."


    That caused a few eyebrows to rise.


    "Interesting. Do you think you can use your aircraft to guide her towards us?"


    "Yes sir. Though I cannot make promises as to the result," she nodded, looking at her watch. Mackerel and I-402 should have arrived by this point.


    "If it keeps her from going further out into the open ocean, I''ll take it. A destroyer squadron will be sent to pick her up."


    He paused for a moment, likely lost in thought. Likely American, though that didn''t need to be said. Shimikaze wasn''t here, and even if she was, the small ship was keeping remarkable speed. Even the blistering swift destroyer would be hard-pressed to keep up.


    The door opened to the sound of wet feet against metal, signaling the submarines had arrived. I-402 was strangely shifty, nervous, even. Whatever information she had, she felt it important enough to not dry off first. Kaga hadn''t met the aviation submarine before, but she could see the resemblance in appearance between her and her sisters.


    A shame she lacked the personality of I-400 and I-401, but alas, it wasn''t meant to be. Kaga watched as the submarine''s eye''s flickered across the numerous ships and human personal present. Which was quite an impressive force.


    Kaga, herself, of course, alongside Akagi. Ryuuhou had joined them as well, due to the other fleet carriers needing to remain on home defense, or simply on other missions. Kongo and Hiei rounded out their pure battleship component, alongside numerous other cruisers and destroyers from both Yokosuka and Sasebo.


    The US contingent was more impressive. Bunker Hill leaned in one of the corners, the lower half of her face covered by her turtleneck. Shangri-La stood near her moody older sister, alongside the Essex version of Lexington. Further reinforcing the three late war carriers were Gambier Bay and White Plains. Three US battleships were also present. Sasebo''s equivalent to Nagato, South Dakota, followed by Iowa, and her strange, newly summoned half-sister, Georgia. Georgia was, as she understood it, on loan from the continental United States, as were some of the other unfamiliar faces.


    However, such as with Iowa, she recognized enough faces through joint combat operations, so there was unlikely to be any issues.


    "I-402, I heard you have something to report?" Admiral Johnson spoke, nodding towards the aviation submarine.


    "Ah, yes," I-402 stammered, "At around 12:30, my pilot that had been picked up by the US cruiser reappeared amongst my crew."


    Kaga noticed confusion among a few of the humans, though most of the shipgirls and Johnson showed a dour expression.


    "He said she had been captured during a holding action against the Re aviation battleship from 10:25 to 10:29," more frowns and dour looks rippled their way through the crowd. Not that Kaga blamed them. "She subsequently suffered a boarding action."


    Kaga visibly winced, while her partner went as pale as a sheet. A reaction shared by many shipgirl''s present. Having another ship''s fairies come aboard wasn''t an uncommon thing, but unwanted, no, hostile ones? It left a very deep pit in her stomach. To be taken and seized like that?


    It was best not to dwell on it.


    "And that was the bad news," Mackerel spoke up over the din of confused voices and mumbling that had taken hold. South Dakota sent the submarine a harsh glare, but her interruption had served its purpose, quieting things down.


    "Yes," I-402 looked down at her feet. "My pilot managed to survive long enough to give me an approximate location to where the cruiser is being held." I-402 advanced slowly, picking up a thumbtack, before placing it on a map.


    Kaga didn''t fail to notice a soldier''s eyes begin to widen in the back before he began to type furiously at his station. Still, that didn''t look too far. Easily within range of strike craft.


    "Sir! Those coordinates are within strike range!"


    "Of carrier aircraft or of our main guns?"


    "Both, sir!"


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Is she close yet?" Sims frowned at her sister, Mustin, as she shouted at her.


    "Kaga says she''s still a little way out, be patient," Sims almost mimicked Omaha''s words. They''d been engaging in this back and forth for the better part of an hour. The worst part was, they had to be guided by a Japanese carrier. If being stuck out here wasn''t bad enough.


    At least they were escorting the fastest cruiser. That way she could at the very least get some action in the main fight. Provided they arrived for that.


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    She hoped they arrived for that.


    "You''ve said that a dozen times by now! What makes you so sure?" Mustin glared at the cruiser, likely just as annoyed as Sims was about missing the fight. But at least she knew how to keep her mouth shut about it and focus on the task at hand.


    "Firstly, you''ve asked me about a half dozen times. Secondly, because that''s Kaga''s aircraft in the distance, meaning Luzon is close. On that note, we should probably slow down," Sims could tell by the tone of the light cruiser''s voice that she was giving an order, not making a suggestion, as she began to decrease in speed.


    "But why! If we''re so close, shouldn''t we rush in and pick her up," Mustin whined, but like her sister, was beginning to slow.


    "Think about it like this. You''re a small vessel, possibly a torpedo or patrol boat, running away from what you think is an enemy aircraft, when suddenly, three destroyers and a cruiser jump out at you," Omaha paused for effect. "What do you think would be their response?"


    Mustin, for once, kept quiet, accepting the wisdom of the older cruiser. Sims could see why. Running the other direction in a panic would probably be the first reaction, and if what Kaga said was right, then even if they ditched Ohama, they wouldn''t be able to keep up.


    Which was always in the cards that Kaga could very much be wrong. But as much as she didn''t like Japanese carriers, that was still a bet that was too risky to make.


    "She''s here," Buck spoke up for the first time since their deployment, pointing out over the water. Sims squinted, barely making up a faint outline of a figure. Despite all her sensors saying she was close, Luzon appeared minuscule. Her height put her at an even younger age than Sim and her sisters.


    Strangely, she hadn''t seemed to notice them yet. Either she was busy looking at Kaga''s single plane, which remained at a distance, or her hair was matted entirely to her face, obscuring her vision.


    Sims could believe both of those. Slowly, but surely, as Kaga''s fighter broke off, Luzon became aware of their presence.


    Sims had to stop herself from wincing. Luzon, for lack of better terms, looked terrible. Awful, even. Her eyes were inflamed almost bright red. Tears were still fresh under them, running down her face in messy wet splotches. Her hair was a tangled mess of knots, Sims unable to tell where one part began and ended.


    She was aware the boss wanted a proper rundown of events, as any information would be useful. Especially as Luzon would have witnessed everything.


    But now Sims had doubts. Would they be able to even get through to her? Luzon''s eyes flitted between them, almost like an animal that had been backed into a corner.


    "Luzon? I''m the USS Omaha. We''re here to help you."


    And that''s when the shooting started.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Yes sir. No sir. She''s calmed down now. I don''t think you''ll be able to question her though," Omaha shook her head. This was an absolute mess. Mercifully, none of them were really hurt. Luzon didn''t get the chance to launch her torpedoes, and her armaments weren''t exactly the most dangerous ship-bound weapons, even against destroyer armor.


    However, what it did do was give disturbing messages about Luzon''s mental state. Omaha was about as far from a psychologist as one could get, but the picture already wasn''t pretty.


    Right now, the smaller boat sat in the center of their formation, silent, not even moving to speak. Looking down at the waves lapping gently at their feet. Ohama wasn''t sure how to even talk to her.


    The cruiser called Isabell probably would, but until they got her back, that wasn''t an option they had.


    Provided they could get her back at all. Provided Isabell wasn''t in worse shape than Luzon was.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "They shall be my finest warriors, these men who,"


    "Shut up!" there was a sickening crack, as my jaw went limp. Compared to everything else, it was merely a dull ache, compared to the agony every other inch of my body was screaming in. Blood and oil oozed from hundreds of cuts, lacerations, and even rips.


    "You! Get one of the repair ships. Tell her to fix all the damage I''ve done, besides the leg," I could make out the faint tapping of feet as they ran down the hall.


    "You do realize what comes next, right?" Its voice taunted, looming over me. I just stared blankly ahead, eyes locked on the ceiling, as they had been forever how long it had been since I started doing so. "Once you are patched up, I''ll do this again, and again, and again. Until you break. And make no mistake, you will break."


    "Once you tell me what I want to know, I''ll bring you to the Abyss as gently as possible. But until you do, I''ll make this as painful as possible. Think of it as payback for all the trouble you caused me."


    I continued to stare at the ceiling. How long had it been since I lost the strength to cry? Maybe I still was. I can''t recall. I didn''t want to give it the satisfaction of seeing my fear.


    But she probably could anyway.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    The fact she wouldn''t talk was frustrating. Either she honestly didn''t know, which had certainly slipped its way through her mind, or the shipgirl was lying.


    Either way, it wouldn''t matter. Time may be in short supply, but it was something she still had. Her forces would be armed and prepared for a strike at the first sign of any shipgirl activity, with both the carriers and air bases being able to land a devastating first strike. Given the distance, it would likely take a day or two for them to arrive, even at top speed.


    More than enough time to finish up with the cruiser, no matter how stubborn she was about it. Who knows, maybe breaking her rescuers would prove enough to break her resolve. What little might be left.


    That''s what she would herself as an explosion rocked the area. Followed by another. And another. And another.


    A stone found itself pulverized under her foot. Will the problems never cease! The nuisance of a cruiser was in chains! The tiny torpedo boat scared off, likely to sink the ocean! What could go wrong now!


    It couldn''t be an attack. Most certainly not. It was unlikely that they would assault her position without heavy elements, regardless of what information they had on her. That would slow them down, even if they rushed across the ocean to the Philippines. To her domain!


    She opened her frequencies, only for panic and confusion to come through. Explosions rang in the background, as madness reined.


    She snarled, barking at a nearby destroyer to stand guard.


    Fine. If she didn''t have time, then she''d break the attackers herself!


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    The plan had been as simple as it was brutal. All five fleet carriers would send out a strike, taking out any Abyssal''s stationed between them, and USS Isabella''s suspected location, with the surface fleet, built around the five battleships, finishing off any survivors that remained. Ryuuhou, White Plains, and Gamba Bay were meant as a backup but were tasked with knocking out any airfields that were in the area. The rest of the fleet would be back with the carriers, and by extension, further covered by a fighter screen and the Vestal itself.


    Once the first attack wave had been completed, they were to signal back to the Vestal to commence bombardment.


    And so far, the plan has worked. South Dakota saw the burning wrecks of numerous Abyssals, what few surviving were easily finished off by gunfire or torpedoes. Of course, the more bombs and torpedoes spent before they reach their main target, the less devastation there would be.


    Even with Vestal''s guns, they were more to bombard shore defenses, rather than sink any Abyssals. Sure, a lucky hit would do the trick, but they were at maximum range. Such would be too much to ask. And once they got close, Vestal would have to cease fire support anyway, out of fear of hitting their own forces.


    And the less remained, the easier it was going to be. Not only breaking in but also getting out. They were retrieving a cruiser of unknown condition. The less fighting they had to do on the return journey, the better.


    All South Dakota could hope for is that this didn''t turn into more of a disaster than it already was.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    There was, shaking? Dust sprinkled down along my face.


    Had, had I blacked out again? I couldn''t remember. But I think the dust was new. Maybe. I couldn''t tell about that, either.


    But the shaking was. Earthquake? Maybe. They were part of the ring of fire, right?


    The burning sensation was new too. Why hadn''t I noticed it earlier? Slowly, my head turned, eyes landing on a hunched creature, a blowtorch in hand, attaching grafts to my skin. Oh, I was being forgetful again.


    It hurt to think.


    There was another quake, followed by a loud crack. My head turned. My captor''s, I think it was my captor, head turned.


    That was neat. The chain was no longer attached to the wall.


    I didn''t want to be here anymore. Its thin fingers tried to stop me, tugging on my arm. I pushed it aside, sending it tumbling to the floor.


    I didn''t want to be here anymore. My fingers dug into the other set of chains, the additional leverage allowing me to pull them from the wall.


    I didn''t want to be here anymore. Lastly, with the other restraints gone, my remaining leg came free, metal snapping and breaking.


    I didn''t want to be here anymore. I didn''t want to be here anymore. I didn''t want to be here anymore! I DIDN''T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE!


    Ah. My fingers hurt. And where did the thing with the torch go? It had left it right here, in this sticky puddle. That was rude of it.


    My fingers hurt. I gripped the wall, balancing myself on my one remaining leg. Slowly, the door began to creep open.


    Aw, what a nice, EVIL, puppy.


    Splat.


    Aw. The puppy is gone now.


    That''s strange. I didn''t think I could cry anymore.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I might as well crawl. I didn''t want to crawl, but it would probably be faster. But I didn''t want to crawl. Oh, I was already crawling. Then I might as well.


    Look, another puppy. I jumped, fingers screaming as I punched, and beat, and tore, and ripped and.


    Oh, it stopped moving. That was rude. Very rude.


    Where was I even going? I needed to escape, but how? The screaming pain in my head was back, stronger than ever.


    Had to flee. Had to escape. Had to run.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Was that the sun? No. Heat. Flame. Fire. But there was a breeze as well. Outside?


    Yes? Safe? No, not safe. Bombs. Explosions. Get to cover, get to safety.


    "You!" no. Not it. It couldn''t be it. It couldn''t be here! My rigging, battered and strained, slowly unfolded, resisting my commands. Listen to me! Fire! FIRE!


    Shell''s smashed into the dark tide rushing towards me, doing little to abate its advance. My sole remaining foot pedaled backward against the sand, trying to create as much distance as possible.


    "I''m going to kill you for this!" Its hands raised. My next salvo was slow to chamber. Would it even matter? Would that be enough to stop it? Do anything more than stall for a few more seconds?


    I felt my eyes close.


    I heard it scream. A true scream of pain, drowned by the blast wave.


    Slowly, my eyes twitched open. It was hurt? Someone had hurt it?


    I closed my eyes again as there was the sharp and harsh clang of metal against metal, rattling its way through my eardrums.


    It fell to the ground, the dark tide abating. In its place was warmth. My eyes opened. The woman was tall, like a tower. Massive and imposing, standing over the monster of nightmares.


    "I will kill all of you!" the monster bellowed, tail writhing in the sand. "Starting with you!"


    Gunfire cracked. I screamed, two colossal shells sent hurtling towards me.


    The two shells never made it, a wall of steel erupting out of the sand between me and it. But I could still see it. I could see it twist and shout, bellow and wriggle, as more and more giants rained shell after shell into its body, not ceasing until it was a smear.


    It was dead. It wasn''t going to hurt me again. I felt my eyes close again.


    "Isabella! Isabella!"

 Chapter 13

    South Dakota stared down at the girl that twisted fitfully in her arms with such intensity one might be led to believe the battleship had x-ray vision.


    Sadly, South Dakota did not have such an ability. And the reports she''d been hearing from her crew made her thankful she didn''t have such an ability, either.


    In the mere ten minutes, it had been since the death of the Re, and her, Iowa, and Kongo preparing a joint bordering action, the cruiser known as Isabella looked just as poorly on the inside as she did on the outside. Machinery smashed, the lights shattered, and countless other defilements and destruction performed by the now trapped borders. One last act of wanton destruction.


    Isabella had spent most of those moments twitching violently in her arms, nearly thrashing in her grasp. But as more and more invaders fell, the less pained her expression became. Though it was still too far from peaceful for comfort.


    Still, the fact her crew had started to return was a good sign.


    South Dakota winced, as Iowa let out a whistle of impression, while Kongo simply looked amused. She couldn''t blame Isabella''s crew for being excessive in their desire to take back their ship, but unloading an entire clip into an imp after impaling it on a bayonet was simply a waste of ammunition.


    But there was still going to be an issue once they made it back to the Vestal. The numerous plates of Abyssal metal had been welded into her body. Something would have to be done about those before Isabella could be put into a repair bath. Nobody knew what type of effect they would have on her when combined with the repair fluids. They might do nothing.


    The risk of them having adverse effects was much too great for them to take, however.


    Which meant they were going to have to come off. A process bound to be just as painful as the one that saw them attached.


    "Don''t," Isabella muttered, far from the first time, head rolling aimlessly. South Dakota wanted to run her fingers through the cruiser''s white hair, though she doubted it would bring Isabella any comfort.


    However, she would make sure what Isabella feared would never come to pass. She could do that much, at least.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Vulcan was a flurry of activity, even before everyone had returned. Outside of Isabella, which she had already been told would need attention before they could place her in a repair bath, nobody was too horribly wounded.


    But the fact they had told her Isabella was a different case entirely was already setting off alarm bells. Even Luzon didn''t need her full attention. Physically, at any rate. Psychologically was a completely different story, she could already tell, not that she blamed the small PT boat.


    The footfalls of several battleships echoed down the hall, signaling Isabella''s arrival.


    Vulcan had expected an unconscious patient. Not a cruiser with a dopy, almost drugged up grin on her face, doing her best impression of a boneless cat. Watching South Dakota struggling with a light cruiser in a fight to avoid dropping her was almost amusing if it wasn''t so concerning.


    Especially given all the black splotch''s that a distance almost looked as if they were fused into her body. She didn''t need to be told why those needed to go.


    "Put her down on the table, and I''ll get the medicine," she frowned, moving over towards one of the cabinets. Sure, the light cruiser was loopy and probably wasn''t feeling much of anything. But operating while she was asleep would be considerably easier.


    Aw, yes, there it was. She was a light cruiser, around a Cleveland class in size and weight. That would mean. One and a half pill dose.


    Though South Dakota''s movements didn''t escape her notice. Based on the numerous rents, dents, and outright punctures in her shields, she''d take a beating of her own out there. Vulcan wasn''t too surprised by that, nor the fact she''d still insisted on carrying the light cruiser all the way here. Even if she was doing her best to mask her injuries.


    "Can you prop her up for me, please?" Vulcan turned around, as South Dakota did as instructed. With considerably difficult, as Isabella had yet to stop doing her best impression of a boneless cat.


    "Isabella?" she started, hoping the light cruiser would respond to her name, even in her current state. Vulcan wasn''t above forcing the pills down her patient''s throat if that''s what needed to be done. But she preferred that it didn''t reach that point.


    Slowly, Isabella''s head turned to face her, actually staying up straight for a moment. Before flopping to the side.


    "My name is Vulcan. I need you to say, ah, okay?" Isabella stared at her, the eye''s slowly blinking. Great, so she was none responsive.


    "Vulcan?" Isabella''s head rolled over to the side, chuckling as she went. "Like the Salamanders?" This time, it was Vulcan''s turn to blink as her patient continued to giggle and snort as if she had just heard a funny joke of some kind.


    Sure, it was something Vulcan had heard a few times before. No, that reference was made far too often, almost to the point.


    But how would Isabella, a ship who spent lord only knew how much time behind enemy lines, make that reference? It made absolutely zero sense.


    "Vulcan?" South Dakota spoke softly, tilting her head towards the now cackling light cruiser. Well, it wasn''t exactly her saying ah, but it would do.


    Isabella swallowed the medicine in an instant, before resuming her laughter, which steadily began to taper off.


    "Haha, sleep go," Isabella''s eye''s closed, head falling over, breathing lightly as the medicine took hold.


    "Damn, that stuff works fast," Iowa looked impressed, as Vulcan reached for a welding mask.


    "Yes, it does," Vulcan reached over towards her equipment. "Thank you for your assistance South Dakota, but it''s probably for the best if you hit the baths yourself. This will probably take a while."


    "If it''s the same to you, I''d rather stay," South Dakota stood up, the battleship seeming to think she could hide her injuries from the smaller repair ship. Behind the welding mask, Vulcan''s eye''s narrowed.


    "South Dakota, I can tell you''re injured. You walking around like this isn''t going to help anyone," Vulcan snapped, despite the battleship easily reaching up to more than triple her displacement.


    "I understand your concern, South Dakota, but she''s safe right here, and in good hands, to boot," Iowa stepped in, placing a hand on the older battleship''s shoulder. "I''ll keep an eye on her until you get back, okay?"


    Vulcan watched South Dakota''s eyes shift between the three of them, almost moving like a blur.


    "I," the battleship breathed deeply. "I understand. Thank you for staying, Iowa." South Dakota made her way to the door, her gaze lingering on the light cruiser for a moment, before heading down the hall.


    "Thank you for that," Vulcan sighed. Iowa simply nodded, though the frown of concern didn''t escape her notice.


    Still, there was work to be done.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Another blackened plate popped off, revealing the puncture wound beneath. Vulcan stopped being surprising after the fifth, honestly. This went beyond torture. This was nothing but cruelty. At this point, she might just have to send in her repair teams now.


    Breaking off another offending chunk of Abyssal metal further down Isabella''s arm, she noticed something. Carefully, making sure not to further disturb her patient, she lifted her hand at the palm.


    And almost instantly regretted it, gagging behind her mask. Vulcan didn''t think a finger was meant to bend the way Isabella''s was, but she didn''t realize it was indicative of her entire hand.


    "What? Happened?" she hissed as Iowa made her way over, noticing her reaction.


    Isabella''s fingers were a knarled mess, and that was simply on a single hand. The other was likely just as bad, though at the moment she wasn''t in any rush to check. One of her fingers had been twisted around completely, its twitch the reason Vulcan had even been drawn to the light cruiser''s hand.


    "We found her jumping an Abyssal destroyer, beating it to death with her bare hands," Iowa didn''t seem as disturbed over the matter as Vulcan was. "We don''t know if she did it to any others, but I think so."


    Vulcan had to agree with Iowa''s assumption, but they''d have to know more to be sure. She''d need a damage report from Isabella''s crew to be certain about the extent of the damage, of course. But there were a few other factors at play. This easily could the result of multiple collisions with destroyers.


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    Or it could be Isabella, in likely blind panic and pain, simply wasn''t throwing a proper punch, just flailing blindly. That could cause injuries in humans, even broken bones if she recalled correctly. Such might affect the armor after multiple collisions.


    Just a hypothesis, but it only made the necessity of having eyes on the inside all the more important.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Hey, hey hey hey," their guide managed to weave their way through the throng of people running through the halls. Various crewmembers ran back and forth, carrying guns, ammunition, alongside scraps of metal ranging in size from a dinner plate to a full sheet.


    Occasionally, a gunshot would ring out, signaling that another invader that had been hiding in some dark corner had been found and killed. All around them, holes were being patched up and repaired.


    "Hey!" another fairy, one in an engineering uniform, waved at a group of sailors that were just about ready to start sealing a minor gash, redirecting them elsewhere.


    The closer they got to their destination, the thinner the crowds and repair efforts got. Soon the only other fairies they saw were patrols, squads of fewer than 4, each one armed. Here, the walls of the ship became marred, damage easier to see the further they got from centralized components.


    "Hey, hey hey," the fairy paused, jotting down notes as they finally reached the section of the ship they were interested in.


    "Hey," entire sections of the hull were crumpled, warped in a manner consistent with collisions. No. Not collisions. Ramming. Just more. More of everything. That was the only explanation. Repeat, numerous, and brutal ramming.


    "Hey!" their guide crossed their arms, letting out a huff.


    The warping to the hull was extensive. Miraculously, her hull hadn''t been torn open, but in some places, it was a near thing.


    Sure, this wasn''t anything the bath couldn''t fix. But that wasn''t the entirety of their orders. While the internal damage may confirm Vulcan''s hypothesis, they still had been sent to collect the full extent of Isabella''s injuries.


    Which had been problematic, given that most of the damage team was busy trying to fix the numerous gashes in the hull, alongside the burned damage reports.


    If they could see more of the damage, they might be able to get a clearer picture of the mess.


    "Hey! HEY!" their guide suddenly shouted, leveling his rifle down the hallway.


    It looked like a monster. Its limbs too long. Its teeth too long and too numerous. Its face lacked anything that could be considered eyes. Its mouth opened, letting out a screech that could only be described as unnatural, and charged.


    BAM! The gunshot cracked out, reverberating down the hallway as the bullet smashed directly into the imp''s skull, sending it plummeting backward.


    "Hey, hey hey,"


    Yes, returning to the relative safety of the bridge sounded lovely.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Iowa, it seems your crew missed a few," Vulcan frowned, already hearing back from the few she had sent in. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the battleship wince.


    "Some hid themselves during the fighting. Isabella''s crew said they wanted to deal with the remnants," Iowa frowned. Vulcan understood. She could easily see how her crew would react if she had been in the light cruiser''s shoes.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Admiral Richardson rubbed his hands against his forehead. The good news? Isabella and Luzon had been rescued and were now safe, and a second force could be sent to wipe out what''s left of the Abyssal presence. The bad news?


    Just about everything else. Luzon was already shaping to be a multipronged legal mess. Due in part because Luzon technically served under the United States Army, rather than the Navy. A factor likely compounded by both her service in the Japanese Navy and made considerably more problematic because the in exile Philippine government would certainly make noise about seeing Luzon returned.


    And that was without touching on Isabella herself.


    He''d already ordered that debriefing wait until she arrived back as Sasebo. An action that only proved to be wiser in hindsight.


    Of course, the report he had been given wasn''t painting a good picture. Isabella having to be reboarded. Her body covered in Abyssal metal sheets, delaying her from being placed in the repair bathes.


    On top of the those above him breathing down his neck trying to figure out how a light cruiser ended up enemy territory in the first place, alongside her current condition. The latter of which he intended to play close to his chest until Richardson had more information. Granted, he desired information about the former as well. Of course, that wasn''t the only question he had.


    And those questions revolved around the last person Richardson wanted to tell about this. Seattle. How exactly did one tell someone they not only had a sister but that said sister had been captured and tortured by an enemy force?


    That was not an easy conversation to have under normal circumstances. The problem was, Seattle shouldn''t have a sister. Still, there was a chance the two ships could be different, but that seemed increasingly unlikely. More than a few reports went into Isabella''s physical appearance, and he would be lying if he claimed to not see the resemblance.


    Which, if she was Seattle''s sister, then that raised several questions. Several questions Isabella might not be able to answer.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    It. It felt like I was floating. The relaxing lapping of ocean waves. Soothing.


    Then the pain came. Roaring back, screaming through my entire body. Everything felt like fire, wreathing, and bellowing.


    Every nerve ending fired in unison, again and again, wracking every inch of my body with agony.


    My eyes opened, body jolting upward, gasping.


    Steam filled the air. All around me was a wall of steam.


    Where? Where was I?


    I let out a hiss as my head throbbed. No, I didn''t have time for this. I needed to think. I needed to know how I got here.


    Okay. I appeared in the Pacific. I headed into the Philippines. I met Luzon shortly thereafter, giving myself the ship name of Isabella. Then.


    My head throbbed again. No. I needed to remember! There was a combat operation. A few. Rescuing a downed pilot, the assault on the gun.


    The KNIFE as it STABBED, STABBED, STABBED.


    Something tore itself from my throat as I gasped, pain flaring up across my body.


    What? The Hell? Was that? What was I forgetting? I, I, I needed to run?


    Something? Could I run? No? Did I need to run?


    There was PAIN and BLOOD and PAIN, but there was a person? A woman?


    She picked me up? I think?


    My brain throbbed and pulsated, hammering into the sides of my skull, almost intent to crush itself. Or batter its way out, one of the two.


    Water lapped against more and more of my body as I sunk back down. I don''t think I''m in danger. At the very least, my sense of DREAD and TERROR were gone. Plus, I wasn''t going anywhere fast.


    Wait? How did I know that? I should have both legs, right?


    See, there''s one. Everything should be, just, fine¡­


    Not fine. Not fine. Absolutely and completely not fine. My leg. Where was my leg? How? How had it been RIPPED and TORN from my body?


    Pain continued to well up, with me biting back a scream as my hands clutched my skull. Make it stop! Make it stop!


    Something had come with my hand. Something stirred at my side as if awakening from slumber.


    "Isabella?" the voice was familiar. Licking at my inflamed memory.


    Slowly, my head began to turn. Two brown orbs stared back at me.


    I stared back. Could it be? Could it really be? Her? She''s, she''s okay? She''s alright?


    "Luzon?" I couldn''t get out the words. She was fine. She was unhurt. Oh, thank goodness. I felt wet heat began to flow down my face. Tears. These were tears.


    "Isabella?" her arms began to wrap around me, like thin, tiny wires. But they were warm, and light. Gentle, like a feather. Careful, not to hurt me.


    I returned the embrace, not caring how much pain my arms were in. She was safe! She was safe! I pulled her close, clinging to her like a lifeline. She was safe!


    And at that moment, that was all that mattered.

 Chapter 14

    Luzon had gone missing. Again.


    Or, as Iowa was swiftly learning meant, Luzon had gone to visit Isabella and didn''t bother to tell anyone. Again. And that nobody bothered to start looking in the repair baths. Again.


    She wasn''t exactly sure why anyone would call it missing at this point, as Luzon spent most of her time down there, anyway. The only time they could get Luzon to leave was to eat, and even that appeared to be with considerable reluctance. She''d even sleep there, as much as that concerned Vulcan. Iowa just wondered how Luzon had been able to procure a sleeping bag out of thin air. She didn''t think there was any on the Vestal herself, and she doubted Luzon had access to one before.


    Still, Isabella was not going to be awake for at least a full day, if not longer. Both from a mixture of the repair bath trying to keep her unconscious due to the pain she''d been in otherwise, and the medicine.


    Iowa hoped that once Isabella was properly awake, they would be able to convince Luzon to socialize with the other shipgirls. She also hoped that Isabella wasn''t in worse shape than Luzon was. Which was a concern with considerable merit, given the events she went through. Even more so, if her eyes were deceiving her.


    She''d been down to visit enough times herself, when South Dakota wasn''t present, to notice the numerous cuts and stabs that lined the cruiser''s shoulders weren''t, well, healing. Iowa scowled. That wasn''t wholly correct.


    They were healing. Just not correctly. Vulcan suspected they were becoming scars. Shipgirl''s having scars was incredibly rare. Scharnhorst was the only one that Iowa could remember off the top of her head that had scars. Nobody was sure why, either. But battle damage?


    That healed. That always healed. And for it not to?


    Iowa didn''t need Vulcan to know that was probably not a good sign. It couldn''t be much else.


    She let out a sigh, entering the healing bath''s through the locker, face covered with steam. Most of the time, when Iowa was here, the room was full of noise. Be it simple talking or just sounds of relaxation. However, the past few times, it had been eir quiet. Sure, several Japanese ships like relaxing in the baths, as they were, for all intents and purposes, hot springs. But that hadn''t been the case.


    Which was worse, Iowa wasn''t quite sure. Heavy, oppressive silence? Or the full-on sobbing.


    Wait? Sobbing?


    Iowa broke out into a near run, sprinting towards the source, which she knew from memory was the repair bath that Isabella resided in.


    Please let everything be okay, please let everything be okay. Already, her fairy''s had maned the radio, sending for Vulcan to arrive, immediately! If for no other purpose than to prevent whatever was going on from getting worse. But what could be going wrong! The repair baths were set up to provide alerts in case of an emergency!


    Steam still clouded her vision as the crying got louder and louder.


    But it wasn''t just one voice. There were two?


    By the time Iowa had gotten close enough to see, the sight before her was perplexing. Luzon''s arms were wrapped around the light cruiser.


    And Isabella was hugging Luzon back, rocking gently back and forth.


    But Isabella wasn''t supposed to be awake yet. Which either meant Vulcan did the math wrong, or something else was afoot. Which was worse, Iowa wasn''t sure. But the timer said she still had more than a day left in the bath, as the seconds slowly ticked by.


    The splashing took Iowa off guard, as Isabella tried rising out of the water. Her stance was odd, compensating for her missing leg by grabbing hold of one of the railings at the edge of the pool. Made even more awkward by the cruiser, who was still holding onto Luzon, position the bulk of her between smallest ship and Iowa herself.


    "Where am I, and who are you?"


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Where am I, and who are you?" My voice felt raw in my throat. The women, no shipgirl, before me, was truly massive. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and an outfit that made absolutely no reasonable sense. She was an American ship of some description if the leggings were anything to go by.


    "My name is Iowa. You are currently on the USS Vestal, en route to Sasebo," the now identified Iowa said. My eyes squinted, trying to make out as much of her hull as possible. She did have three triple turrets.


    Which was a common design shared by many different American ships, ranging from cruisers to battleships, so I couldn''t identify her based on that information.


    Was she lying? My head throbbed. I couldn''t tell on that front, either.


    But Luzon was safe. She was alive, and that had to account for something.


    "Is she?" I didn''t get to finish as I felt Luzon''s head nod into my shoulder, keeping one eye on the battleship and the other on Luzon herself.


    "Have they been treating you well?" there was a pause, then another nod. Good. If they hadn''t been. Then. Well, I didn''t want to think about what I''d do.


    That''s when it hit me. Pain, everywhere. I nearly sagged, as what felt like hundreds of knives plunged into my skin. Because I had been STABBED.


    Each breath was a short gasp, air trying to rush into my lungs.


    "Isabella, sit back down! You aren''t fully repaired yet!" I heard Iowa shout over the building pressure in my ears. Luzon''s voice joined in, also begging me to sit down. No, I wanted, needed to, no.


    Slowly, I sunk back down, water easing the pain. Trying to posture was stupid. Beyond stupid.


    Luzon snuggled in closer to my side, and I only just noticed her new clothes. Of course, they weren''t going to let her keep wearing rags.


    "You''ve been through a lot. Just rest up, okay?" Iowa said as I breathed deeply, trying to fix my shaky breath. "Vulcan will be here in a few moments."


    Vulcan? Who was Vulcan? Based on the name, it was pretty clear they weren''t a human. Unless they had the misfortune of being born of volcanology or roman obsessed parents, that wasn''t a normal name. So they likely were a shipgirl of some description. But I didn''t have the foggiest as to their class.


    Probably a repair or supply ship of some description, if I had to make an educated guess. Vulcan didn''t sound like an Aircraft Carrier name, nor did it fit the naming scheme of Destroyers, Battleships, or Cruisers. Then again neither was mine, to my knowledge.


    "Luzon let''s see if we can get you dried up, okay," Iowa offered out her hand. I watched Luzon pause for a moment, before her grip on me tightened up, shaking her head.


    "If she wants to stay, she can stay," I offered. It was no big deal. Even if Luzon stayed quiet, her company would be greatly appreciated. And it was fairly clear she didn''t want to go, either.


    "Are you sure?" Iowa''s eyebrow''s furrowed. "You do need rest right now."


    My eyes narrowed.


    "If she wants to stay, she can stay," my hand already moving towards the railing. If I needed to stand up again, I would.


    "Okay, okay. I''m just making sure," thankfully, Iowa understood. Because unless Luzon wanted to leave, I wasn''t letting her out of my sight.


    "Iowa, I got your message, what''s going on?" A loud voice made its way through the fog. Red hair poked out from around what could have only been some type of welder''s mask, complete with overalls covered in numerous dark stains, with a redshirt underneath.


    Yep, definitely some type of repair ship. She flipped up the mask, allowing me to get more of a look at her tanned face.


    "Seriously, Iowa, you made it sound like this was an emergency that required my immediate attention," the person I assumed was Vulcan paused, finally noticing me. "Oh, you''re awake."


    She paused for a moment, staring at me as if I''d grown a second head.


    "You''re awake!"


    "Ow," I groaned, almost letting out a hiss of pain. I didn''t need anyone shouting right now. My brain already felt like it was hammering against the insides of my skull. There is no reason to make it any worse.


    "Apologies," she frowned as if lost in thought. "It''s just that you weren''t supposed to wake up until tomorrow, at the earliest."


    Wait, until tomorrow? At the earliest? Why? How much longer did I have?


    Oh. More than forty-eight hours. That was a considerable length of time to be stuck in a single place. Well, I certainly would have enjoyed the additional sleep time in that case. Hopefully, I could get some more time sleeping, because even with Luzon to keep me company, this would get boring.


    "Well, given that you''re currently awake, I''d like to ask you a few questions," Vulcan crossed her fingers. "You can feel free to ask some in return."


    I paused. That seemed reasonable enough. Doctors did ask questions about their patient''s physical health. It was just. My brain throbbed once again. There were just some things I don''t think I could answer.


    "That works, I suppose," my gaze shifted over to Luzon who had started to remove her face from my side. Honestly, it wouldn''t surprise me if she left an imprint of her face there.


    "How are you feeling? Are you in any pain or discomfort?" Okay, there were easy questions. "Are there any concerns you might have?"


    "Well," I paused for a moment, thinking on how best to put things. "I have a headache. Aches just about everywhere, actually, and it gets worse when I stand up."


    If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    I watched as Vulcan jotted down a few notes, before sending a pointed look at Iowa. Iowa shrugged as if saying something along the lines of ''what did you expect me to do''.


    "What about concerns?" I would have raised my stump of a leg out of the water. I had started to do so, in fact. But Luzon probably wouldn''t take that very well.


    "My leg. Is this magic water going to fix that too, or?" I paused. That wasn''t a line of thought I wanted to entertain.


    "The repair bath will restore your leg. Once that timer hits zero, you''ll be back to normal. Physically, anyway," Vulcan let out a sigh, though I had to suppress a scoff. Normal? No, I was most certainly not going back to normal. The fact I was in this body was proof enough of that alone.


    "Mentally?" Vulcan''s shaking head drew my attention away from my thoughts. "Quite frankly, I won''t beat around the bush. The fact you''re even talking right now is borderline miraculous. And I''m not just saying that because you should still be asleep right now."


    "Why?" I paused, as another flash of pain ran through my skull.


    "Sorry, but on that particular front, the Admiral wants us to wait until we arrive at Sasebo," I narrowed my eyes at the repair ship, though her glare was more than enough to match my own. It probably didn''t help matters that my mother was a nurse. I was weak to that type of glare. But I still wanted answers. Because trying to remember only made my headache worse.


    "Okay, fine. Do you know how long it''ll take until we arrive at Sasebo?" I let out a huff, trying to convey that I wasn''t entirely happy.


    "It''ll take a few days. Our return trip will end up being a bit longer," Vulcan stated. "Now, do you have any other questions?"


    Yeah, I did. Sure, I couldn''t ask the biggest one, but I had a few others.


    "Do you have any reading material?" I looked down at Luzon. "Like children''s books or something like that? And maybe some towels?"


    "I''ll see what I can do, though I won''t be able to make any promises on those children''s books," Iowa nodded, seeming to head towards the door. That was understandable. I doubted there would be any children''s books aboard, but it wouldn''t hurt to have the option.


    "If you need to get ahold of me or anyone else, plus hit the red button on the railing behind you," Vulcan followed suit. "I''ll be here as soon as I can."


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Memory loss or memory suppression. Honestly, she was leaning towards the latter option. She''d noticed the brief twitch of pain that went across Isabella''s face.


    Of course, she hadn''t been kidding that Isabella being able to hold a conversation was a miracle all on its own. Even with Luzon''s presence, Vulcan had expected a panic attack. But she seemed calm. Standoffish, sure. But that honestly would be expected. Even a more aggressive posture wouldn''t be something she blamed Isabella for. Given that she''d waken up in an unknown location, fight or flight would be the two options available to her.


    And most shipgirls tended to choose fight over flight.


    Though there was an oddity. Not quite a problem, but just something strange. Beyond the scarring, which, as a matter of its concern. Perhaps a bit abnormal that Isabella hadn''t noticed them yet.


    What had really drawn her attention was the Cruiser''s request. Reading material wasn''t exactly an uncommon request among longer stays. So much so that they kept a water-proof stockpile on hand. But children''s books?


    What Isabella sought to do with them was fairly obvious. What wasn''t was how she even knew they existed. Sure, many shipgirls could call from the experience of their crew. She''d done so herself when she''d been first summoned, and she was far from the only one. But with unbuilt ships?


    Their relationship with their crew was poorly understood, to put it mildly. Mostly because they never actually had one. Sure, they had fairy''s, just like every other shipgirl. Vulcan knew she was going to have to look over reports on the matter. She''d seen something somewhere about how it was hypothesized that for unbuilt ships, their fairies were blank slates, much like the vessel they crewed. Another was that they pulled on a possible, hypothetical crew that may have served on the ship.


    Which was another mystery on the rapidly growing pile. How did she end up in the middle of the ocean? Why did she wait so long to sound a distress signal? How long at she been out there for? Hell, she''d been able to make a Warhammer reference! How did she know about that if she was summoned in the middle of the ocean?


    That last one shouldn''t get her as worked up as it was. But its impossibility was aggravating. It made absolutely no sense.


    Vulcan let out a sigh, forcing down the frustration until she could release it safely later.


    Regardless, there were even more issues at hand. Seattle. That was an issue Vulcan had no problem leaving to Admiral Richardson. She had no clue how Seattle would react to having a younger sister. Likely overjoyed, as many likely would.


    Up until it was revealed that her sister had been trapped behind enemy lines for an unknown amount of time, before being tortured. Vulcan knew Seattle had her quirks, and generally was quite happy-go-lucky.


    Seattle certainly was more stable than some other unbuilt ships. But there was no way being told that piece of information would go over well. But there were no two ways around it. Seattle was going to need to be told about what had happened. If they were taking Isabella to a different base, then maybe they''d have a bit more time to prepare on that front.


    But they were not. Seattle would need to be told before they made landfall.


    Of course, that was going to be Admiral Richardson''s problem. Not that trying to tell Isabella that she had an older sister would be probably any less troublesome. In all honesty, that would be an easier task. If only as some type of silver lining.


    Still, Vulcan would rather they wait until Isabella was physically healed on that front.


    She''d certainly be keeping an eye on Isabella, and Luzon as well. Now Vulcan hoped Iowa had some luck.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Twist, and twist, and twist, darn it! Lost the pattern again! Slowly, I let my trembling fingers slip back into the healing bath once again. Doing a braid seemed to be beyond my abilities. Which was not a surprise.


    "You aren''t particularly good at this," Luzon stuck out her tongue, splashing lightly as she bent her head back.


    "To be fair, I''ve never done something like this before," I stuck out my tongue as well. I''d get better with practice, once my fingers started cooperating with me. And I would probably get a lot of practice too unless Luzon wanted to cut her hair down to something more manageable.


    Which, to be fair wasn''t going to be until we reached Japan. At the least. Which meant one way or another, I was going to have to figure out how to do braids. They seemed like an efficient way to manage excessive hair, right?


    "Your hair is too short for that," Luzon hummed, before returning to kicking the water. Yeah, shoulder-length was probably a bit too short for such a thing. Even if it was, I probably still wouldn''t go for anything fancy. Of course, I probably wouldn''t let it get much longer anyway.


    But that probably wasn''t as important. What was? I suppressed a sigh, letting it die in my throat. Honestly, there was no easy way to have this conversation. There probably never would be an easy way to have such a conversation. However, that didn''t change the necessity of having it.


    "How are you holding up?" I asked, and the temperature in the room felt like it plummeted. Luzon''s lazy kicks came to a stop, as she turned to face me. Her eyes began to water.


    Before she buried her head into my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs.


    "You left me. Again!" Luzon cried, small body wracked with shakes. "Even after you promised you wouldn''t, you did." I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as she continued to sob.


    "I," words began to come from my mouth, but Luzon cut me off.


    "Everyone told me you did it to protect me. Everyone told me you did it to keep me safe," Luzon quaked, releasing a wave of new tears. "Why are you so willing to get hurt for me?"


    "Luzon, you''ve gone through enough. You''ve gone through more than enough," I paused for a moment.


    "But you got hurt. You got captured! You could have gotten killed," Luzon''s voice faded into a whisper. "And then I would have been all alone again." Her arms squeezed me with even more intensity.


    "It wasn''t going to kill me," I felt Luzon''s face look upward. "It could have. God knows it easily had dozens of chances to kill me. But it was never going to."


    Each scar, each twist of the knife, each cut, began to flare with pain.


    "And I knew that," my eyes shifted away, breaking contact with Luzon''s own. Her grip on me only increased, however. "I figured it wouldn''t matter. You''d be safe, out of harm''s way."


    "But, you got hurt! You got hurt worse than I did!" I paused, gaze shifting back to Luzon, her eyes full of tears. "I can see it! Whenever you try to think about it! Even just now!"


    "You shouldn''t get hurt for me. Not like that," Luzon sniffled, before burying her head into my chest once more.


    When Iowa finally returned, she found us locked in our embrace.

 Chapter 15

    "Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high. Like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are."


    How long had it been since I last heard that lullaby? More than a decade, probably getting closer to two than one. Probably once my bother stopped listening to it was around the same time I did too. Basically, I really freaking hoped I wasn''t butchering the lyrics on this one.


    Though, would Luzon know the lyrics of an American lullaby? Wait, was Twinkle Twinkle Light Star an American lullaby in the first place? And why am I asking myself questions I don''t have the answer to?


    "I''m, I''m not," she cut herself off, letting loose a massive yawn, stretching out her limbs. "Tired." As if I didn''t just hear her yawn in the first place. If the time on the clock was anything to go by, she should probably be in bed by now.


    "Luzon, if you need to go to sleep, all you need to do is say so," Luzon turned her head back to face me, only to keep going, lightly tapping against my chest, before jolting forward.


    "I''m awake, I''m awake!"


    I chuckled, shaking my head. Yeah, it was pretty clear it was time for her to go to bed. Sure, having her rest in the pool was probably safe. I''d been out for at least a few days, from what I could gather, and likely would have been out for another. Lacking any wrinkles was a bit of a surprise. But seeing as I was still healing, or as Iowa put it, ''under repair'', and Luzon was probably well past the point of being in perfect physical condition by now.


    She better be, at any rate.


    But I knew human skin did not have a pleasant reaction to being in water long term. Infections and sores? No thank you!


    "You need to sleep. I''ll dry you off," I extended my hand, reaching towards one of the towels left on the rack behind me.


    "No! Stay!" Luzon''s arms wrapped around me before her grip slackened. For a few moments, it seemed like sleep had finally taken her, but her grip tightened once again. "Stay!"


    "I''d love it if you stayed, Luzon, but I don''t want you looking like a raisin come morning," I chuckled, fingers grasping the towel. Was this wait I sounded like when I wanted to stay up late on a school night?


    "What''s a raisin?" she asked, stifling another yawn as I ran the towel through her hair.


    "It''s a dried-out grape," there was probably a more complicated process than that, though I''m pretty sure that was the basic idea behind it.


    "Why would I look like a dried-out grape if I stayed in the water?" well, at least she wasn''t protesting as much as I thought she would. Though, Luzon could simply just be that tried, which wouldn''t surprise me.


    Luzon curled up in her sleeping bag, muttering faint sounds I couldn''t understand, but were adorable anyway before the gentle sound of her breathing took over.


    However, I wasn''t going to join her in dreamland. Probably couldn''t, my track record of sleeping on a moving vehicle was likely going to try and make up for lost time. What Iowa had brought me was exactly what I''d expected, and while I hadn''t been lying about wanting something to read to Luzon, there was a lot more that was looking for.


    Did I need the additional stress? Probably not. Did I need information? Absolutely.


    Even a children''s book would have provided something of use, depending on how close to the modern date it was printed in. Whatever that modern date happened to be.


    That could be said for just about anything really, but hopefully, the stack of magazines she''d brought me would at least approximate exactly how long this war had been going on, alongside the date and year.


    From there? I wasn''t sure. Which was exactly why I needed to find out more information about what was going on.


    Slowly, and quietly, making sure not to disturb Luzon during her much-needed sleep, I flipped through the pile, looking for anything on shipgirls, mostly based on the cover.


    I swiftly realized that all of them seemed to have shipgirl related stuff. Okay, that probably shouldn''t be too surprising. Shipgirls would be popular, for various reasons. Alright then, let''s start at the top.


    Skimming my why through with an eye out for any number that looked like part of a date. When did Abyssal''s show up? When did shipgirl''s show up? Last I remembered, it was 2020. During September. Go to sleep and boom, wake up in the middle of the ocean. Something like that just didn''t happen without good reason.


    Did I end up in the future? Some alternate reality? Quite frankly, there was going to be nothing I could do to disprove the later. Okay, maybe there was. I would just need an electronic device that I had no way of accessing right now. The prior would be a bit more straightforward, hence the dates.


    Frowning, I continued to look over the articles, not finding much luck. I hope I wasn''t missing something, as the last time I''d read a magazine proper was years before this all started. Okay, here''s the article that the cover referenced. Iowa, and some person handing her medal? First United States Navy Battleship summoned?


    Yadda, yadda, the first battleship returned. Momentous occasion. Important for the future of the country and the world at large. All nice, informative stuff, but I needed dates! Dates! They had to be somewhere in here, right?


    I was, already getting frustrated with this. Not a good sign. Letting the magazine rest on my face, I leaned back with a sigh. Honestly, I probably needed more rest of my own. Even if I had been in a medical and pain-induced coma.


    God, I''d been in a coma. That''s a sobering thought. Yeah, that''s the surface of it! I''ve lost a limb, and I''m somehow growing it back right now because that''s apparently a thing now! I''d gone through, well, whatever it was with that thing, and I wasn''t going to try and push why I was drawing a blank, giving the last headache. Then there was everything before that!


    And how long had it been? A few weeks? A month? More? My fairies burned the logs they''d been keeping, and quite frankly, I didn''t trust my own memory-keeping of time, even under the best days. But right now?


    I just didn''t know. Not knowing? That was scary.


    I''d been fighting a war. I wasn''t a soldier. But I''d been fighting anyway.


    What was my life becoming? I hadn''t wanted anything like this. I certainly wasn''t cut out for this sort of thing. The fact I made it this far was more due to blind luck than anything else. Maybe not even that.


    Seriously, I needed to start getting this sorted out. Where did I want to go from here? Did I have a choice? Was I going to be strong-armed in the military?


    I mean, the Absyssal''s staying around was something I certainly didn''t want. My eyes flickered over to Luzon. They needed to be thrown back into the pit from whence they came for what they did to her. And to me. And probably to the world''s population at large.


    But what could I do? I was one light cruiser out of how many? That''s not even going into my complete lack of training and absolute minimal experience. And calling in minimal felt generous, given how it was probably the naval tactical equivalent of smacking my face into a keyboard.


    Sure, training was something that could be worked on. I doubt they''d be incompetent enough to send someone without training into the thick of things. But? I don''t know. Was joining up with the navy something I wanted to do?


    Of course, that was while ignoring, quite frankly, quite a large issue. One I had conveniently thrown into a closet and ignored for the sake of survival. It was nice to be able to ignore it while I was fighting for my life because I certainly didn''t have that luxury now!


    My eyes gazed down at my chest, before flicking away.


    Yeah, I''m not getting used to that. This was something I just had no idea what to do with. I should be dysmorphic to hell and back right now. I really should be freaking out more about this than I had been. Sure, I cried my eyes out when I first saw my reflection in the mirror. But that was, shock? Surprise? A bit of a mental breakdown? The full weight of my current situation hitting me? But I don''t think it was dysmorphia.


    That? That was creepy. No, that was freaky. I should be having a complete and utter panic attack about this! There was no reason I should be this calm. A bit weird? Yes. Feeling a bit off? Yes.


    But I didn''t feel wrong. And that fact I wasn''t?


    Was setting off the alarm bells in my logical mind, because I knew enough to know I should. Which was a whole nothing can of worms that I could probably never bring up ever because it''d make me seem crazy. Well, crazier than I probably already was.


    Quite frankly, the fact I was drawing a memory blank wasn''t a good sign either. Even more so with all the pain when I did try to think about it.


    Where was I going with this? I wasn''t sure. Probably something about giving a Therapist a need for a pay raise sometime soon. Multiple, actually, now that I think about it, as Luzon certainly needed therapy of her own, and I wasn''t going to take no for an answer on that front.


    Anyway, if I was going to get some sleep, it was probably time to get my brain shut off. Hopefully, reading would help my gears slow down because I couldn''t rely on utter exhaustion right now.


    Let''s actually give this a read, then. I paused for a moment, looking at the cover, my eyes drawn towards the top of the page.


    12/13/2021


    No. That''s. Crap.


    The last day I remembered before I woke up here was August. August in the year 2020.


    That meant more than a year had passed.


    Please. Don''t let it be real. I don''t want to cry anymore.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I woke up to a splash, water suddenly ending up all over my face. Goody, I managed to fall asleep after all. When was that?


    Luzon let out a giggle as she surfaced, enjoying herself in the warm bath. Did she just cannonball on in here? The water couldn''t be deep enough for someone to do that safely? Right?


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "You better have gotten something to eat before you jumped on in here," I chuckled, ruffling her hair.


    "I did," Luzon beamed up at me. The rumble of her stomach told me she was lying. My eyebrow raised, almost amused. Though she certainly needed to eat, however. Unlike to be growing fast at all, I doubt she was getting a lot of nutrition back in the Philippines in the first place. Shipgirls tended to eat quite a bit, even destroyers. Luzon was likely no expectation to that rule.


    "Luzon," I crossed my arms, trying to my best impression of my own mother. "You need to be eating."


    "I have been," she huffed, face turning into a pout.


    "We''ve been giving her the same amount of food she needs. Even if she''s a bit of a picky eater," the new voice just about made me jump out of my skin, arms going from crossed in parental disapproval to surprised flailing.


    "Please, don''t surprise me like that," I lowered my arms as my breathing began to steady. She was a battleship, I think. Same triple guns as Iowa. Those had no right to claim anything approaching stealth like that. How long had she been sitting there? Minutes? Hours?


    "Sorry. I didn''t mean to alarm you," she looked down at me, giving me a strange look. One that made me want to sink into the water. Though Luzon was already doing that, avoiding the battleship''s gaze as she slowly made her way over to me.


    "I''ll be fine. Surprises are something I generally don''t take well," I huffed, voice nearly reaching a mutter. She wasn''t lying, or at the very least, I don''t think she was.


    "I''ll keep that in mind for the future," she paused for a moment. "Probably send word to the Admiral is well on that front. I know for a fact a ship back at Sasebo will certainly be trying to throw you a party. Probably several. In rapid succession.


    Well. That was. Alarming? Concerning? I certainly would understand why someone would do that, don''t get me wrong. But parties, especially large scale, which a military base would most certainly be?


    I don''t know. Luzon probably wouldn''t be up for it, if her current interactions with other people were anything to go by. And I certainly wasn''t a social butterfly even under the best of times. Not showing up, on the other hand, was simply just rude. Given the work that probably would be put into it, exceptionally rude at that.


    "Thanks for the heads up," I nodded, before frowning slightly. I had no idea who this person was. They seemed familiar, but I just couldn''t quite place it. Did I even have a name to put on their face? I, I don''t think I did.


    "You don''t remember me? Luzon''s arms wrapped around my stomach once again as the battleship spoke.


    "Sorry. I really don''t," I paused, trying to push into my memories, though I backed off the moment pain began to flare in my temple.


    "It''s okay. Vulcan said she expected you were suffering from memory loss," she looked away for a moment, seeming to make sure I couldn''t see something. Memory loss though? That certainly made sense. It would explain, well, what I''ve been dealing with whenever I try to force myself to remember.


    "Either way, I was here to check up on you and your progress. And get Luzon something to eat, of course," Luzon immediately began to bury further into my side. "Which, as I can see, is going to be unlikely."


    On one hand, Luzon certainly didn''t want to leave, and I doubt anything less than a crowbar was going to unlodge her from her current position. Nor was separation likely to really do anything in the long term. As much as I didn''t want her to go hungry, Luzon''s mental health had to also be considered.


    "If she wants to wait, she can wait. I''d ask if you could just bring her food, but there''s probably a rule about that somewhere," I frowned. Hopefully, this was the right call to make. Six more hours wasn''t going to be that detrimental. Right?


    "Unfortunately, yes. Due to several incidents, food isn''t allowed in the baths as a precaution," well, the whole multiple incidents part was interesting. Probably a funny story behind it, too. Still, they''d have to be pretty bad if they banned food because of it.


    "Though it''ll probably take a bit more than six hours before you two would get something to eat."


    "Oh? Really? Why is that?" I looked up, somewhat confused at the battleship. What was that supposed to mean?


    "The second reason I''m here is that Vulcan wants to run a diagnostic once you''re completely patched up. Mostly as a precaution against anything that may have been missed," okay, that made sense. I''d taken a considerable beating, so of course, they want to make sure everything is physically in order before turning me even somewhat loose.


    Luzon''s stomach let out another rumble, this one stronger than the last. She shifted slightly in the water. Probably her stomach protesting under the fact it would be even longer than Luzon had anticipated before she ate. Was that going to be enough to convince her to get something to eat?


    Oh, who am I kidding, she was already clinging back into me by the time the battleship began to raise her eyebrow.


    "Well, that was worth a shot. I''ll try to find you a change of clothes, given how, you know," she paused as if trying to think of something. Honestly, if so much of a scrap of my old outfit was intact, I''d be impressed. It was a disaster before I got to the Philippines, and after? Honestly, it should be pitched into a fire, if only to save me the embarrassment of seeing what I''d been running around in.


    She simply nodded, before standing up to leave.


    "Wait," she paused at the sound of my voice, turning around. There was something she mentioned at the start of the conversation. Should have gotten it clarified back then, but I''ve only just remembered it.


    "You mentioned something about Luzon being a picky eater. Can you tell me what that entails, exactly?" Luzon made a squeak, burying herself further into my side. Honestly? I was a pretty picky eater myself. Even if me now being a ship has gone a considerable way into rectifying that issue. Just more than two decades late by my parent''s standards. Mom would be pulling her hair out over this, I could already tell.


    "We''ve mostly been having a hard time getting her to eat just about anything. Pineapples are just about the only thing we can get her to eat, and we have been spreading them into other recipes, but there is a limit," I looked down at Luzon, whose head was currently doing its best to reshape my ribs.


    That was. Yeah, no. Not going to fly. Absolutely not. I''m not sure how many recipes you could put pineapples into, but certainly, they wouldn''t provide Luzon''s dietary needs. And as much as she deserved to be pampered, that didn''t mean I was okay with potentially taking up the entire ship''s supply. The people that saved us deserved pineapples too. If they liked pineapples, anyway.


    "I''ll think of something," I paused for a moment. I''d practiced a bit of cooking when preparing to set off on my own. Pandemic made the job hunt to facilitate that difficult, however. But I had a few recipients up my sleeve. Most of them were simple. Scrambled eggs. Bacon. Pancakes. Those sorts of things.


    But she was already having too much of the latter, and as for the two former? This was a military vessel. They should have both in spades. Right?


    I''d have to take stock of ingredients. And maybe consult some type of recipe book. Lasagna probably wasn''t the most complex recipe in the world, even if I was working off half-remembered knowledge. Noodles. Cheese. Pasta sauce. There was supposed to be some type of filling? Like with manicotti? Sour cream, I think.


    That''s why I needed to get my hands on a recipe book. I wanted, no, needed to get this right. In part because getting it wrong likely wasn''t going to help Luzon''s pickiness. Honestly? It would probably make it worse. Though cooking lasagna from scratch was going to take even more time after the medical checkup.


    "I''m sure you will," the battleship hummed for a moment. "Though I do have to ask if you know how to cook."


    Strange. For a moment, I thought I saw her shudder. What was that about?


    "Enough. I''m not going to give someone food poisoning or light myself on fire if that''s what you''re worried about," something told me that wasn''t at all what she was worried about.


    "I''ll notify the kitchen staff, regardless. Just as a safety precaution," she frowned. "I''ll return once I''ve finished if you like."


    Part of me wanted to take her up on that offer. Having someone to talk to was, well, nice. But, if Luzon was going to be like this? She was going to have to get acclimated to others eventually. But pushing it just seemed like a bad idea.


    "Thank you for your offer, but I don''t think Luzon will take visitors very well," she snuggled further into my rib cage, but her grip loosened.


    "Understandable. I''ll leave the change of clothes in the locker room, and send an escort so you can get to Vulcan''s office without getting lost if I''m not available to do so," the battleship rose, pulling herself up to slightly shorter than Iowa.


    "Thank you," I nodded pausing as she headed towards the door. Wait. Had I not gotten her name throughout that whole conversation? Not even once?


    "Thank you, South Dakota."


    I think that''s what Luzon said. I wasn''t quite sure, with most of her face still remaining lodged in my ribs. It was nice to have a name to put to the face, but that still didn''t explain why she felt familiar.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "She''s really bad at this," Kongo peaked through the door, letting the snippets of conversation filter in through the door.


    "Nee-san, South Dakota''s going to notice. We should probably wait until someone has time to tell her the war is over. Or at the very least, wait until she''s out of the baths," Hiei couldn''t deny she was curious about Isabella. It was probably for the best that she be told about the war''s end, after all.


    "We could tell her ourselves."

 Chapter 16

    Slowly, Luzon pulled herself from my side. Just how much pressure was she putting on my side? It felt as if my ribs had started to contort under the strain. Still, I couldn''t suppress the warm chuckle that exited my throat as she invaded my lap. Luzon was adorable like that, but at the same time, I had to worry. Being shy wasn''t something I was a stranger to. But I''d be lying to myself if I tried to pass this off as simply being shy.


    Because Luzon wasn''t just being shy. Iowa, Vulcan, and now, South Dakota, all had her clinging to my side, doing her best to avoid them. With South Dakota and Iowa, I could accept that she simply found the larger battleships intimidating. But Vulcan? A repair ship? Sure, it wouldn''t surprise me if Vulcan outgunned Luzon, American anti-aircraft guns, and all that. But being frightened by a repair ship?


    Sure, I hadn''t seen how she reacted around other shipgirls. However, extrapolating from what I already had wasn''t painting a pleasant picture. Not only did I have to worry about her getting the proper amount of nutrients, but I now also had to worry about if she was getting enough social interaction with people besides me. So much as I''d like to be there for her at all times, the odds of that being reality were, well, I simply wouldn''t be. For whatever reason, that may be. One just couldn''t simply expect all of life''s punches.


    So at the very least, I''d like her to have some form of support network that went beyond, well. Me.


    "You''re being silly," I grinned, getting to work on breading her hair once again. My fingers certainly felt better than they had before. They weren''t quaking at the slightest bit of excursion.


    "No, you are," Luzon hummed, kicking the water, sending ripple out across the pool. Really? Who already told her about the uno-reverse card? Wait, did they still have memes? If they did, they better have revived Killroy.


    "I''m talking about you eating nothing but pancakes. You''re a growing girl, after all," I frowned slightly. "You need to eat. It''s just not healthy otherwise."


    "Everything else was just slimy and," Luzon stuck out her tongue. This was karmic judgment, wasn''t it? Having to take care of a picky eater after all the things I put my parents through?


    "I''ll find something you''ll like. Even if I have to cook a thousand recipes for you," I grinned, rocking her back slightly in the pool. Luzon let out a shriek that soon fell into a state of laughter. It didn''t take long for me to join in as well, letting our voices echo across the empty room.


    Then, in the mist, a door swung open.


    That took the laughter out the air right quick. Was South Dakota already back? I didn''t think so. It had only been a few minutes. Ten tops! Squinting, instead of there being a single figure, there were two. Had she brought Vulcan back with her?


    No, that wasn''t it. Both shapes looked to be around the same height through the steam, meaning the pair were likely not any of our previous visitors. Faint voice reached my ears, and while Luzon seemed to freeze up, I couldn''t understand a word they said. Which, frankly, didn''t tell me much if anything at all. Foreign language was always something I''ve struggled with, so it really could be just about any language at all.


    But it wasn''t like there were a whole lot of reasonable options to pick from. They''d gotten here pretty fast, or, at least, I thought so. Meaning they had to come from a fairly nearby close by. Honestly, Japan was probably the best bet. They had been one of the few large naval powers in the Pacific, after all, and we''d been allied with them since the end of the war.


    That did little to answer exactly who they were, though. Or why they were here. Maybe I was reading a bit too deeply into things, but it felt like this place was one of those, get permission from whoever it was in charge, sort of deals. Just for the moment though. I doubt anyone just got an entire one of these rooms to themselves.


    Given how they were trying to stay quiet. Well, I think they were trying to stay quiet, with all the whispering they were doing. Sure, the steam did wonders when it came to obscuring vision, but it wasn''t that thick. I could still make out the outline of their frames. Maybe radar would be useful? But then again, I''m not sure what would happen if I tried to make use of that while inside a giant metal box.


    Yeah, probably best that I don''t try that and unintentionally make everyone in the room deaf. So, I was just going to have to wait until either the steam parted or they got close enough. Who knows? Maybe they just went to the wrong repair bath by mistake. Surely this couldn''t be the only one on this vessel. Right? I mean, that just seemed like poor strategic planning, putting all your medical and wounded in a single location?


    Luzon sunk into my body as the twisting of the mists allowed me to spot someone. That was? Kongo?


    Okay, sure, I may not have been able to recognize most of the antropomorphized ships Kancolle had, but Kongo? She was either the face of the game or popular enough for that to be the impression I had of her. I couldn''t quite be sure, as she was lacking her usual outfit, with a tactical towel in its place. Which left me with only a brief flash of brown hair, a strange little thing on the top of her head as the only features I could go off of.


    But that contrast of yellow and brown? I was fairly certain that was Kongo who I had spotted. Her sisters didn''t share that combination between their hair color, and whatever it was on their heads. Or, at least, I didn''t think so.


    There was a lull in the voices before I spotted two figures slip into one of the baths. Apparently, I was wrong. Another one of Kongo''s sisters did have brown hair. It was much shorter though. Hiei, maybe? Kirishima had black hair, if I remembered correctly, while Haruna had silver. That left Hiei as the only option remaining.


    They both continued to talk, seeming to keep their voices down to at least a polite volume. Certainly, they both had to be speaking in Japanese, meaning I understood nothing. Which was fine by me. Eavesdropping was rather rude, to be frank, so it wasn''t like they affected me any. Besides, if they really wanted to talk with me, they''d well, do so.


    Right? I mean, I doubt they were trying to apply so weird social treat to get me to engage them so they''d have an excuse to talk with me. That''s just silly and overly complicated. And just a giant no in general. I''m not just going to approach two people holding a conversation and minding their own business with some reason to do so.


    Luzon''s body quaked against mine, despite the tight protective hug I''d put her in.


    "It''s okay," I stroked Luzon''s hair as I reassured her. "They aren''t going to hurt you."


    I felt her head nod against my ribs, though her shaking continued.


    Something told me I was going to have to interrupt their soak, if simply for Luzon''s wellbeing. Confronting one''s fears was good and all, but as is? This may be too much, too fast. I''d been on the receiving end that more than once, and that was for more harmless and small things. Like spiders and snakes.


    Which was nothing compared to the fear of one, if not two different nations of wartime vessels now returned for the deep to fight of eldritch abominations from the deepest parts of the ocean.


    "Do you want me to ask them to leave?" I did my best to keep a slight frown from showing. Not out of any sense of shame or disappointment. Rather, it''s because I could have sworn the two Japan Battleships seemed to quiet down as I spoke. Eavesdropping is quite rude, and they should both know that.


    Luzon looked up at me, with tears in her eyes. Then shook her head.


    No.


    She, wanted them to stay? I pulled Luzon into an even tighter hug. Such a brave girl! Willing to let them stay, even if she didn''t want to be around them? I''m not going to tell you this is why you''re getting ice cream, but I''m getting her ice cream for this. She deserved it anyway, but now she double deserves it! Deserves it squared? I don''t know. All I know is she will be getting ice cream soon. That was a promise I could more than keep.


    Then Luzon began to shake even more violently. I loosened my grip. Had I been holding her too tightly and accidentally hurt her? Her grip on me tightened, as she shoved her face into my stomach. Okay, so if me accidentally hurting her wasn''t the problem then what was?


    That was when I felt water drip onto my hair. Hair that had been very much dry up until this point. Slowly, my head turned upwards to face whoever it was that was dripping water on my face.


    I would have been quite pleased if I could say my face didn''t become a blushing inferno, but that would make me a lair. Luzon might not have been looking away purely out of fear, as I swiftly averted my gaze as well.


    "Could you please put on a towel?" I did my best not to sound rude, almost biting my tongue in the process. Hot spring etiquette was probably different in Japan. Maybe.


    "Sorry," her face backed off, much to my relief, as the shadow and water droplets retreated. She was speaking English, but I couldn''t quite place the accent. Japanese, certainly, it couldn''t be anything else. But there was something more. Vaguely familiar, almost nostalgic, even. A hint, a vestige of British accent, maybe? "My name is Kongo, and this is my sister, Hiei."


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    I saw Kongo gesture out of the corner of my eye toward the girl who remained in the bath. She waved at me, which I returned slowly, still keeping one arm around Luzon.


    "I''m Isabella," I paused for a moment, before looking down. She didn''t appear to want to look up, not that I blamed her. "And this is Luzon."


    "She''s quite shy, isn''t she?" Kongo hummed, for a moment. Of course, she couldn''t see it, but my eyes narrowed.


    "That''s. Not quite the word I would use," my voice was as neutral as possible, but I doubt it would keep the annoyance I felt from slipping through.


    Before I could say anything else, Hiei cut me off, speaking a few sentences in Japanese, too which her older sister responded in kind. Each time they spoke, Luzon almost seemed to twitch. Was she doing it out of fear? Or was it something else?


    "I bet you were wondering why we stopped by and bothered you?" I could not mistake the joy in Kongo''s voice. I had been asking myself that, yes, but I certainly wasn''t going to vocalize it. "I''m here to tell you that war is over! You have nothing to fear from us!"


    I couldn''t help myself. My eyes flickered over in Kongo''s direction, only for them to be repelled. Not by her seeming lack of modesty, no. This time it was by the blinding light she seemed to be emitting without any explanation!


    Ultimately, once my sight and sense returned to me, I bit my tongue That''s what she wanted to tell me? That a war fought nearly eighty years ago was over? I almost wanted to laugh out loud, if it wasn''t for the fact she appeared to be completely serious.


    "And?" there was nothing else to say. Not really. Was this just another shipgirl thing I wasn''t aware of? I mean, Luzon did say something about a ship with my name never being built during the war, so she at least had some knowledge about how it went. Though she never exactly told me how she knew that, but her crew had to be involved at least to some capacity.


    My statement brought on a pause. One that just seemed to go on and on. One could hear a pin drop, it was that quiet. It just dragged on for what felt like minutes, in what reality was likely only seconds. This was just straight-up creepy. A stranger to silence I was not, but most certainly not like this.


    "Are you okay?" At this point, I had to wonder. I don''t even think she was breathing anymore. Which shouldn''t even be possible, but then again, so is emitting light almost as bright as the sun. The former could at least be possible due to ship stuff, but the former? Maybe spotlights? I only really heard about those that were equipped on smaller vessels, like cruisers and destroyers.


    "Nani?" Oh, that? That I understood. I understood that all too well. It was only me nearly biting down on my own tongue that stopped me from saying anything else. Explaining how exactly I knew about a viral internet meme from a famous anime wasn''t exactly going to make me sound sane.


    Nor would any other explanation about how I could understand that one Japanese word in particular, for that matter.


    "You know?" Kongo, thankfully, had switched over to something I could respond to without my face becoming a blushing inferno.


    "Yeah?" I raised my eyebrow, turning slightly, almost sighing in relief. "Why would I not?"


    That was probably a stupid question. She certainly thought I didn''t know, and there had to be a reason why she would think I didn''t know about the end of World War Two.


    "Well, it just," Kongo almost seemed a bit dejected, as if I''d taken the wind from her sails. "Most unbuilt shipgirls don''t."


    Ah. That explains why she was surprised. Honestly, unbuilt shipgirls not knowing made sense. At least, a little bit. Being unbuilt was akin to being Tabula Rasa, I think. A Blank Slate and all? Kind of like a baby, in a sense.


    Expect said babies were unbuilt naval warships with guns ranging from a few inches to ones easily reaching if not surpassing sixteen inches. And now I''m suddenly terrified. An infant could be difficult to manage under the best of circumstances. I could only imagine how nightmarish it would be to manage one with massive guns and deck armor. Especially one that looks like a human adult.


    Why do I have to scare myself like that?


    "Well, I just do?" I just about bit my tongue on the spot. Really? I just do? I could have laid about it, said I found some information on one of the islands during my travels. Then again, knowing something is true, is something different than hearing something being true. Would my previous lack of reaction make that a hard sell? Probably. But something told me my answer would only lead to more people asking questions.


    Questions I''m not sure I knew the answer to. Certainly questions I didn''t want to answer, either. Both were kind of problematic, both in their own unique little ways.


    Then, towards where I originally first heard the two enter, there was a loud slam, followed by loud, angry footsteps.


    "There you two are!" That voice. South Dakota? She was back already? Though, she didn''t exactly seem to happy about being back. Once the larger battleship cleared the steam, the expression on her face made that clear. It wasn''t quite anger, but there was certainly some degree of frustration in her gaze.


    "I thought the orders were clear that you were to wait until we told her the war is over before you could introduce yourself," South Dakota cross her arms, very much like a disciplining mother.


    "She already knows," Kongo still sounded a bit dejected about the whole thing. Did she have some sort of dance number planned or something? A full-on parade she kept who knows where? Those were the only things I could think of as to why she was this down in the dumps.


    "She, knows?" South Dakota frowned, eyes falling towards me for a brief moment. "Interesting. I suppose I''ll pass along the news, though I doubt anything will be done on the matter."


    "Thank you. I don''t think Luzon would like all the additional, excitement," that was an understatement in perfect form. While I doubt all visitors would be from the Japanese navy, anything beyond a handful would likely be way too much for Luzon. I felt her face dig into my belly, and her hold on my tighten, only confirming that I was correct.


    "That is, a fair point," South Dotaka paused for a moment, scratching her chin. "Unless you want them gone, I don''t see any issue letting them stay."


    I snickered, not at all ignoring the indigent shout that came from Kongo.


    "I''ve already asked Luzon about that. Even though I don''t think she feels comfortable, she''s willing to let them stay," I looked down at Luzon''s head, my view mostly obscured, but still tender all the same.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    I frowned. Had I just gotten so used to wearing rags? These clothes just felt wrong. Too baggy in some places, too tight in others. It didn''t help that they didn''t exactly have anything in my exact size, of course. I tended to like looser-fitting clothes, but those were consistently lighter.


    Which this most certainly was not. Never mind how much effort I was putting into not thinking about, well, that.


    Yeah. That. I''m not thinking about that at all. Not in the slightest.


    I understood why it was important, but that didn''t make it any less of a pain. It wasn''t helping matters that they couldn''t exactly dig up something in my size, either. Everything was either too large or too small. Thus, the tightness.


    This. This was too much. Could I go back to the bath, please? It was safe there. I didn''t have to worry about much of anything. I didn''t have to worry about my chest. I didn''t have to worry about how I was now a girl. Or how my legs felt. Or how I walked Or how sure I was about that one guy trying to look at my butt. Or. Or. Or.


    "Isabella? Isabella. Isabella!" the hand placed on my shoulder caused me to jump, letting out a strangled gasp of surprise.


    What? What just happened?


    "Isabella? Are you okay? You just seemed to freeze up for a moment there," Iowa''s hand was firm on my shoulder.


    No.


    The answer was simple. No. I was not okay. I was nowhere near close to being okay.


    But.


    Luzon was looking up at me, tears beginning to form in her eyes. I wasn''t just outright going to admit that I wasn''t okay. Not in front of her. She was relying on me too much for that.


    "I''ll be fine," it was a lie. And I don''t think Iowa bought it, either. But she certainly didn''t press me, either.


    "Okay. Just let me know if you need anything. We''re almost there," Iowa nodded, running her hand through her hair. I followed after, letting the battleship lead the way, as Luzon kept pace beside me.


    Luzon''s hand slipped into mine, gently grasping it.


    I didn''t think things were okay right now. But maybe, just maybe.


    Everything will be well.

 Chapter 17

    Calling the current situation a political nightmare, was, well, putting things lightly. One pretty much above his pay grade, admittedly. But he knew more than a fair share of people were looking to put someone''s head on a pike for this.


    Not that he blamed them. The Philippine government in exile was certainly going to have what evacuation records they had very closely by, well, everyone. It wouldn''t inherently surprise him if the Philippine people didn''t want them back, either. Something had to have gone wrong. He was already running a headcount, a mess in its own right, but it was raising more questions than it answered. They were already at over ten million people accounted for. It is miraculous that they found that many at all, seeing as Abyssal''s had controlled the Philippines since near the start of the war.


    The aviation battleship wasn''t the first Abyssal in charge, either. The Philippine Island Demon, as she was known, had proven to be a considerable thorn in Japan''s side. It had taken a combination of Yamato, Musashi, Nagato, and several other ships to beat down, and even then, it''d managed to escape with its life. Nobody had seen it since, despite the fact it sent several ships back to the repair baths. Painting a picture of what happened afterward wasn''t too difficult, due to her lack of appearance thus far. Either sank in route, or its fleet turned against it.


    Was the former demon doing the same? Or was this just simply due to new management?


    It was certainly a cruel mercy if nothing else. He was requesting evacuation records as well, what little of them probably existed. Hopefully, he could get some numbers on how many managed to make it out. But this many being alive? It raised questions. Ones that would likely see calls for a new offensive, an event that could prove disastrous if they overextended.


    Of course, if this one aviation battleship had managed to keep this many prisoners alive? Why? What was its goal? Did it even have one? Or was this simply a case of deciding the cruelest thing was to make people suffer, rather than just outright kill them?


    And if that was its thought process, how many other Abyssal''s were out there in the ocean, doing the same thing? That thought made his blood boil, though he had to keep his anger in check. Many shipgirls were beyond furious. South Dakota especially, though from what he understood, she was doing her best to keep it from the currently repairing ship, which she was also focused on.


    Then again, it seemed as if so many balls had been dropped on this front. The fact that the American ships didn''t break off to hunt down random fleeing Abyssal''s after the camps had come to their attention was a miracle he could only thank Iowa for. But the fact there were numerous prison camps spread throughout the island? He had a hunch, which was why he requested information about the camps built by Japan during the Second World War. Still, he had whatever recon planes and even drones scouring the rest of the islands at this very moment.


    He was not going to let things get worse. Not on his watch.


    They''d even had to break into their food reserves, simply to get all the freed prisoners the necessities they needed. Thankfully, the relief fleet would be carrying even more food, alongside medical supplies and resources for construction. From there, the Vestal had new marching orders, in the meantime. Mostly acting as a transport itself, ferrying more supplies while being supported by a new fleet squadron. Georgia would remain, but most of the other shipgirls needed to return to Sasebo and Yokosuka.


    Which was more than understandable. Sasebo was certainly going to need it, as they would providing considerable support to the reconstruction effort until further bases could be set up. Though he was unsure how many shipgirls could be spared for such a task. He knew the Navy was trying to put new steel hulls in the water. Ones built specifically to fight Abyssal''s, freeing up resources from other theaters.


    Those were still a long time coming. New, more precise, and quite frankly, closer range weapons were what was needed, not missiles. Quite frankly, more than a few of the designs he''d seen required technology that didn''t exist. Yet.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    It was just a checkup. Only a checkup. Nothing more. Nothing less.


    That''s what I kept telling myself.


    So why did it feel like I swallowed an entire flight of butterflies?


    I just didn''t know. There was no reason I should be this nervous right now. My fingers strained, desperate to dance against the inside of my palm. How bad of an example was I setting right now? Probably something horrendous and awful.


    I breathed, trying to calm my beating heart as it thundered inside my ribs.


    This wasn''t working. I wasn''t calming down. My body felt as if each atom was vibrating on its own. I needed a release valve. Tap my fingers, tap my feet.


    Well, probably not tap my feet. My eyes skirted away from the dent that had begun to form a few minutes prior. If I tapped my foot anymore, I might just end up punching a hole through the floor. Which would certainly be quite bad. And I didn''t need to deal with that on my mind, on top of everything else.


    Finally, the door swung open, as a girl with dark hair and eyes I could almost describe as red. Just a little taller than me, so slightly less short, I thought grimly. Still, her outfit wasn''t what I expected. It was more suited for a mechanic or an engineer, over a doctor or medic.


    Oh. Okay. That makes sense. Great. Not only is my body being dumb, but my brain is also being dumb, too. Good teamwork, guys. Really pulling through for me in my time of need.


    She seemed familiar, though. Like, really familiar. That, I''ve seen you before, I should be able to remember exactly who you are, sort of familiar. But I hadn''t seen her before in my life. Right? Whoever she was, she probably didn''t and wouldn''t appear in Kancolle, due to the game''s greater focus on the Japanese navy. And in Azur Lane, light carriers ended up taking over repair ship''s healing roll, so I certainly didn''t know her from there, either. Vestal was the only United States repair ship present, after all.


    So why did she look so familiar? I wanted to get to the bottom of this, but I wasn''t getting anywhere quickly.


    "Sorry for the wait. I had a meeting with Admiral Richardson about some important details once we arrive back at Sasebo," the repair ship rubbed the back of her head somewhat awkwardly. Sasebo? One of the largest naval bases in Japan, run jointly with the United States Navy? That Sasebo? That''s where we were going?


    That, well, made sense. It was partially run by the United States, after all. They would be in the best position to pick up my initial distress signal and respond. And it would explain the split in ship''s I''d met so far. Two Japanese battleships and two American ones. A joint task force was a good sign, though I had a hard time imagining all the bad blood that built up during the war was entirely gone.


    "Shouldn''t something like that wait until after Isabella''s appointment?" Iowa did raise a good point. This Admiral Richardson? Was he in charge of Sasebo? Over this entire operation? I''d have to probably get him a letter, regardless. I would imagine he was involved in Luzon and I getting rescued, if she was in touch with him.


    "I''ll inform him next time he contacts me. You know just as well as I do that he''s been under no small amount of stress and pressure as of late," the repair ship shook her head. "Honestly, he''ll probably be back in touch in an hour or two. Three tops."


    Iowa frowned, but simply nodded. Under a lot of pressure? Stress? Neither of those things sounded good. An operation like this would naturally lead to those two being in abundance. But this couldn''t be the only cause, right? I mean, figuring out how I got there was probably a logistical nightmare by itself. Especially in the context of having a light cruiser show up in the middle of nowhere.


    Safe to say, I''d be answering quite a few questions when I finally got to Sasebo, then. That? That was kind of scary. I didn''t want to lie, but there was no way in hell I was mentioning anything about my previous life right now. Nobody would believe me, and my sanity was probably already something the Admiralty would want to look into as is. That would just get me sent on a one-way trip to the loony bin.


    "Regardless," she turned towards me. "It''s good to see that you''re finally up and about. You certainly look a lot better."


    "I''m sorry, but I don''t remember any of that," I frowned. Maybe that''s why she looked familiar? Some sort of unconscious deja vu situation? A brief look flashed across her face.


    "Don''t be. You were quite out of it. Honestly, it is probably best if you didn''t remember," well, if that wasn''t ominous. How bad of a state was I in if that''s the medical professional''s opinion on things?


    She was probably right. I didn''t want to know.


    Though why do I have the sinking suspicion that I embarrassed myself in front of her?


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Vulcan almost frowned. Almost, being the operative term. Isabella''s heart rate was a bit on the fast side, with her leg vibrating at nearly a constant pace. Vulcan was pleased in her choice to Luzon accompany Isabella. That way she didn''t have to deal with Isabella tapping her fingers, too.


    Was this a habit picked up to expend energy, or was it simply due to Isabella being anxious? Or was it both? The latter was certainly likely. Isabella certainly seemed incredibly nervous, possibly going into territory Vulcan would call jumpy, at lack of a better word. Not that she would blame Isabella. Vulcan had expected worse, even after the whole incident with Kongo and Hiei not ending in gunfire.


    Frankly, Vulcan knew she was nowhere near qualified enough for this. Thankfully, Luzon, despite her having her own issues that Vulcan was even less qualified to sort out, was proving to be a distraction of sorts. Mutual therapy, maybe? Certainly, something to look into and keep in mind.


    But aside from psychological issues that weren''t visible yet, Isabella had recovered quite well. Her hull and internal machinery were in good shape, with extensive damage and even neglect being completely repaired. Even her scraped six-inch gun was good as new. Even her human body had been repaired. Outside of her aforementioned elevated heart rate and a slight case of malnutrition, Isabella had nearly fully recovered. There was just one problem.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    The scars.


    Bright red and angry, they covered much of her upper arms, and finding an unblemished portion of her torso was a difficult task. As she expected, most of them avoided being placed just above internal organs, the most notable being above Isabella''s heart and lungs. Very much like the last time Vulcan had seen what had once been stabs and cuts.


    While there were certainly shipgirls with scars, Scharnhorst having one on each eye, while Iowa had one, likely due to an explosion in her number-2 turret, for example. Those scars didn''t heal in the repair bath, either, but they also appeared to be much older. Far less red and fresh than the ones on Isabella.


    However, even comparing cases like that was problematic. Vulcan hadn''t heard about scars appearing on a ship, where there were originally none, after a stay in the repair bath before. Repair bath''s healed damage and were quite good at it. There were some expectations, but Isabella''s wounds had been too recent to qualify for those expectations.


    That was concerning. It was certainly beyond Vulcan''s ability to explain. Maybe mental effects manifesting in a physical manner? If that was the case, and that was big if, then she should probably be thankful it was manifesting like this, rather than on Isabella''s hull. A shipgirl''s hull was a representation of their soul, more or less. It sustains permanent damage, well.


    That would be considerably bad. A worst-case scenario. Vulcan wasn''t quite sure what it would mean, either, to be honest. But she knew it could only mean bad things. At the very minimum, it would mean long-lasting, possibly even lifelong damage that would be difficult, if not impossible, to recover from. At worst?


    Vulcan didn''t want to even consider the implications brought about by such wounds.


    At least these, if her guess was correct, would properly heal as well. Though, without a doubt, it would take a considerable amount of time for Isabella''s scars to mend. This only increased the need for therapy in Vulcan''s eyes.


    "You can put your shirt back on now," Isabella shifted slightly at Vulcan''s words, clearly uncomfortable about her current state, and it took a scant few moments for Isabella to throw the borrowed shirt back over her head.


    Despite her nerves, Isabella had been quite well behaved. Luzon likely helped in a few more ways than one, but given some of the cruisers, Vulcan had dealt with in the past. The difference between Isabella before and after might as well be night and day, though delirium from pain explained that.


    Maybe the reference was nothing more than coincidently mad rambling after all. Vulcan partially doubted it. After all, it was simply far too specific to likely be anything else, even if coincidence was the most logical explanation. But Vulcan was not a big fan of putting much stock in happenstance. It had a tendency for one to simply ignore the difficult questions.


    Questions Vulcan would very much like to ask? Certainly. However, whatever questions she had could wait until after Isabella had gone through her debriefing. Vulcan wasn''t entirely sure how well that would go. It certainly wouldn''t surprise her if they had to back off at certain points.


    Though Vulcan had no idea on whether it was entirely due to trauma. Her impression of Isabella had changed drastically. At first, Vulcan had expected Isabella to be much more like her sister, Seattle. Very much a social butterfly, fluttering from one group of people to another. Instead, what she found was someone who was much more reserved. Quiet, maybe?


    Vulcan wasn''t quite sure how to put it. Isabella didn''t seem to inherently dislike human interaction, though Vulcan had concerns the light cruiser might come off that way. Instead of basking in the glow of a social spotlight, as Seattle did, Isabella didn''t appear to like the spotlight being on her. Even together with Luzon, they both seemed very quiet. More of enjoyment of one''s company in silence?


    Was it possible to send word to Seattle to maybe dial it back a bit without Vulcan tipping too much of what''s happening? Vulcan wasn''t entirely sure. Frankly, on the telling Seattle front, Admiral Richardson was completely on his own. Her only hope was that he didn''t wait until the last minute. As to how either of them would react? Seattle would certainly be overjoyed. Isabella? On that front, Vulcan was far less certain.


    Having a sibling certainly would be a net positive, at the end of the day. How well would Isabella take Seattle''s excitement, though? Isabella was still skittish, and while hopefully, that would fade, Seattle was not exactly subtle. It could lead to the two getting off on the wrong foot. Which was probably the last thing either of the two wanted or needed.


    Still, quiet was probably the best word. Isabella generally spoke only when spoken to. She remained silent during Vulcan''s brief conversation with Iowa and only engaged once Vulcan''s attention had turned to Isabella. Though, it wasn''t like Isabella hadn''t been paying attention to what was being said. Far from it.


    Which brought about Vulcan''s last concern. Memory loss. While Vulcan wasn''t exactly in a great position to be able to determine how much Isabella had lost. She seemed to have no recollection of their initial meeting, though that isn''t any surprise. Given what Isabella had gone through it might be for the best that she didn''t remember anything of the events.


    That didn''t change that memory loss could be a sign for more serious concerns. Brain damage being first and foremost, made even more complicated by the fact repair baths, despite their best efforts, had always been finicky when it came to fixing brain damage. What was caused by battle? Generally fine. However, concussions and similar injuries had to mend the human way. Or simply put, the long, boring way.


    It was almost embarrassing how long it''d taken them to realize that. And even long for shipgirls to start acting on that information. Just another thing to keep an eye on, Vulcan supposed. She''d much rather be aware that there might be an unforeseen injury and have some clue as to what it was than any other alternative. But outside of memory loss, Isabella wasn''t displaying much else in the way of symptoms, which was a good sign.


    "Well, you seem to have completely healed, physically speaking. Some malnutrition, though it shouldn''t be anything a return to proper diet won''t fix," Vulcan looked up at the cruiser, as Luzon slipped off her lap. "And while it certainly isn''t my place, and I don''t doubt that the Admiralty will probably sign off on it anyway, but I would consider getting a therapist."


    Wait. Vulcan suppressed a frown. She''d forgotten for a moment that Isabella was an unbuilt ship. She likely didn''t have any idea what a therapist even was. This was not going to be a conversation Vulcan was going to like having, then. Explaining such a concept would take quite a while.


    "I was, thinking about that," Isabella frowned slightly, feet seeming to shift. "For myself, and for Luzon."


    Vulcan raised an eyebrow. That was interesting. Most interesting indeed. Not to mention perplexing. Isabella knew what a therapist was? And was considering? Without prompting or orders? The former was strange and certainly would be worth looking into, but the latter? Outright miraculous. Vulcan had heard more than enough horror stories about getting shipgirls into therapy, much less getting them there willingly.


    "Do you have any recommendations?" On that front, Vulcan did have a few people she knew about. Sadly, the closest one in the states was the therapist at Pearl Harbor. Which was still several time zones away, and even if they weren''t, finding a gap in their schedule could be difficult. They were at Pearl Harbor for good reason.


    "None in Japan, unfortunately," Vulcan frowned. "I''ll ask about on that front for you if you''d like."


    "Thank you," Isabella''s lips twitch upward slightly. Vulcan couldn''t quite tell if Isabella was attempting to smile or not. "That would be greatly appreciated."


    "You''re welcome," Vulcan nodded, as Luzon tugged on Isabella''s arm as if to draw her attention. Luzon was her own bag of worms, but Vulcan had heard from Iowa about Isabella''s plan.


    Leaving Isabella without supervision in the kitchen sounded like a bad idea in Vulcan''s mind, but they did need to solve Luzon''s food problem. And it wasn''t like Isabella''s cooking could be any worse than Hiei''s.


    "Yes, I''ll make sure you get something to eat," Isabella''s face was a bit more full when she looked at Luzon. Isabella wasn''t quite smiling, but there seemed to be some warmth in her eyes, at least.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Iowa, thank her soul, managed to lead us to the mess hall, Luzon''s stomach gurgling all the while. Any slower and I expected Luzon would try to take a bite out of the wall. However, with a chance to get some real food, I certainly had no intention of going back to metal munching.


    But Luzon certainly needed something to eat and had been shooting down just about everything they tried to give her. And while I could cook, I wasn''t some type of chief or anything. Most of the cooks were probably better than me, anyway, so I''d have to be creative.


    Good news was that I''d managed to find the pasta noodles. Bad news? No lasagna, so my original plan was out. But basic noodles themselves? They were in abundance. If that was the case, then. Yes, yes, good, they had plenty of burger meat. Eggs, a common item in most recipes.


    Then I think it was, Parmesan? And mozzarella? Both. It certainly wasn''t cheddar or American cheese. Of course, if there was pasta, there had to be pasta sauce. It was, here? Oh, there it is. I''m missing something. Cottage cheese? That would have to be in the fridge. There was simply no other place for it.


    Okay, set the pot to boil, and start mixing the other ingredients. Was it thirty minutes in the oven? Forty? No, it was thirty. Definitely thirty.


    "Can I help?" Luzon looked up at me. I grinned, ruffling her hair before picking her up and placing her lightly on the island counter, opposite the stove.


    "Sure," I grinned slightly, but it felt a bit off. No matter, I had other things to worry about. "If you could let me know when that starts making steam and noise, that would be wonderful."


    "Okay!" Luzon nodded, staring at the pot of water as if to make it boil faster. I chuckled to myself. Is this really how my mother felt when I helped her in the kitchen?


    It felt. Warm.

 Chapter 18

    It was, cold. It was dark. As a child, I had a fear of the dark. I think all of humanity had that very fear. One, singular, universal truth. Humanity was afraid of the dark, probably going all the way back to humanity''s earliest days. We always imagined monsters in the dark. From the inky void of space to locations far closer.


    Before the Abyssal War, humanity knew more about its own moon, than it did the deep recesses of Earth''s oceans. They knew less, now, the deep now held purely by Abyssals, at depth''s humanity could scarcely attempt to reclaim. After all, how could they reclaim what was never theirs in the first place?


    I was alone, in that dark. Panic. Fear. Rage.


    Dispair.


    I thrashed. I struggled. I could do nothing else. I could not tell up from down, but I felt as if I was being dragged further into the oppressive darkness. In the end, there was nothing I could do as the darkness laughed.


    There was a flash of light.


    Then nothing.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Light broke upon my face. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut, hoping to cut off the offensive light. However, even throwing the blanket over had proved fruitless. With a sigh, I resigned myself to the waking world, only for my leg to feel heavier than usual. It wasn''t just my leg, either. There was an all too familiar feeling of someone cuddling into my thigh.


    A brief peek under the blanket confirmed my suspicions. If it were anyone else besides Luzon, then I''d have been fairly concerned. I didn''t want to wake her, but my prior movement was already causing her to stir.


    I''m not entirely sure how she got there, to be honest. Luzon had gone with the Destroyers and other smaller craft. She didn''t want to, but she put on a brave face anyway. I''d told her to come to find me if she couldn''t sleep, which is likely what happened. Luzon let out a cute yawn, looking up towards me, blinking the sleep from her eyes.


    "Did you get a good night''s sleep?" I asked, smiling slightly. Still not fully awake yet, Luzon only nodded, though her grip on my leg softened, allowing me to wiggle my way free. A chill ran up my spine as my bare feet made contact with the metal floor. It wasn''t too cold, but the contrast between the warmth of the sheets and the floor was enough.


    Maybe I should wear some of the socks I''d been given to sleep tomorrow? Pausing for a moment before deciding to contemplate the choice of action later, I threw on a hastily assembled outfit. Of course, it wasn''t like I had many variations to choose from, having mostly spared military clothing to choose from. Beggars couldn''t be choosers, but almost all my shirts went from uncomfortably tight or to unbearably tight.


    Why did I have the feeling that I was going to need specialty clothes?


    After a few more minutes of getting Luzon properly dressed, her stomach let out a grumble.


    "Can I have pineapple pancakes for breakfast?" Luzon asked as we headed towards the mess hall, walking past Ohama and few other cruisers on the way out the door.


    "Of course. Just remember, pancakes are breakfast food," I hummed as we made our way down the hall. Luzon made a noise that indicated her disappointment. I bite my lip to stop the chuckle rising from my throat.


    Now, which way was it to the mess? I think it was too the right?


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    Omaha crossed her arms across her chest at a few of the other cruisers. Under normal circumstances, Omaha doubted that such a display would accomplish much. Just about every other ship outgunned and had more displacement than she did. However, now more than a few of the cruisers were looking down at their feet, rather than meeting Omaha''s fiery gaze.


    Hopefully, she didn''t have to continue her chastisement of the other cruisers. It was that chastisement that had caused Isabella to wake up in the first place. Omaha didn''t realize the lump on one of the beds had been Isabella. If she had, Ohama would have taken the conversation elsewhere.


    Isabella waking up alongside Luzon brought the conservation to a halt. It wasn''t like they were going to talk about her when she was right there. Especially with the topic of the conversation being Luzon.


    "Look, I get it. But that doesn''t change what the rules say!" Omaha rolled her eyes. If it was one of the Japanese cruisers, she might be able to understand why they were so anal about the rules. The Japanese navy had been a stickler for rules, order, and rank. But they were an American one, so even that poor excuse didn''t exist.


    "Look, lawful stupid," Ohama''s eye''s narrowed, ignoring the indignant squawk from the offending cruiser. "How many of us got any sleep last night until Luzon decided to cuddle up with Isabella gain? Come on, a show of hands."


    Nobody did raise their hand. More looked at their feet, however. Omaha didn''t know if it was out of shame or fear, but she didn''t care, either.


    "Yeah, that''s what I thought. And it wouldn''t surprise me if the same can be said about the Destroyers as well," Omaha let out a huff. "So, here''s what I''m going to do. I''m going to talk with the Admiral in charge. I''m going to explain why letting Luzon stay here will benefit everyone here. I''m going to do all that, and you guys are going to deal with it. Am I clear?"


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "Thank you," my feet shifted as we finally arrived. I''d like to say that we''d gotten there without issue. That no problems came up and that it was a simple straight shot down the hall. I''d be lying if I acted as if that were true. But that would just commit faulty memories to my brain, and this whole song and dance would be done again.


    I''d pretty much got lost right off the bat. It had been a left, not a right. And several other turns through the cramped corridors, for that matter. I''d almost started to panic before I managed to spot a familiar face, South Dakota. She''d been talking to a battleship with short black hair and eyes two different colors. One yellow and the other blue. Wasn''t that condition called heterochromia?


    Regardless, after I''d arrived, out of breath with Luzon in tow, I asked for help. The dark-haired battleship had gone, somewhere. I wasn''t even sure when she left our little group. But South Dakota not only graciously gave us directions but also escorted us there.


    "Your welcome," South Dakota nodded, as I watched Luzon make a blitz towards the pancakes. I certainly could go for a few myself, but my eyes were drawn towards the scrambled eggs. And, of course, the bacon. One could not forget the bacon. Unhealthy and greasy? Absolutely. That''s part of why it was so good!


    I really needed to try and get some protein into Luzon, though. My baked spaghetti recipe may call for some burger, but it still wasn''t a whole lot. Eggs were out if the crinkle of her nose was anything to go by. Bacon got a similar response, confirming some of my fears.


    However, Luzon''s eyes lingered over a few cups with plastic spoons sticking out. I made a note to take a look when I went through the line. If it was something like yogurt, then my answer was staring me right in the face. Now that I think about it, even milk could provide at least some protein. Milkshakes were an option, but ice cream did have a lot of sugar. Giving Luzon sugar in anything larger than small amounts was something I was reluctant to do, to say the least.


    "Do you have any time to join us?" I looked up at South Dakota, puzzled. It looked like it was a bit later in the morning. Which, note to self, buy a watch or phone as soon as I could. Would make keeping track of time a non-issue. But South Dakota didn''t look busy, either. Plus, she''s a battleship. With the way Luzon and I put away food, she probably needed a whole lot more than we did.


    There was a flicker on South Dakota''s face. An almost internal debate played out behind her eyes. I frowned. It was a bit of a long shot. She seemed like the type to quietly enjoy another''s company, but South Dakota was a battleship. A critical piece of the fleet. People probably wanted her ready for combat at a moment''s notice right now. So she was probably a bit too busy to get away with something like that.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    "I think I can make the time for it," South Dakota gave me a slight smile.


    "Thank you," I did my best to return her grin.


    If I paid enough attention to her expression, I''d have realized just how badly I failed.


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "How is she taking it?"


    "How well do you think she''s taking it?"


    "Shush! They''re going to notice!"


    Three cruisers poked their heads around the door, keeping watch on the Admiral and Seattle. They''d heard the rumors. Seattle was probably one of the few people that hadn''t. The cruiser information network was extremely good at what it did. No matter how tight-lipped people were, things would slip out. Intentional or accidental.


    They had to work very hard on making sure Seattle didn''t hear any of the rumors, and if she had been in greater contact with the cruiser information network, she probably would have. But, for the time being, they''d done their job and done it well. Now, it was time to see if the rumors held any merit.


    Which, by the fact that Admiral Richardson had called to meet Seattle, alone, was likely the case. Unless one put any stock in that other rumor mill, there wasn''t much of a reason for him to do otherwise.


    Now, it was just a simple waiting game. A game of patience and stealth. They couldn''t use most of their equipment, either. Much too close, running the risk of being discovered.


    Only snippets of conversation floated by. It was hard not to notice the little things. The grimness in Admiral Richardson''s expression. The gradual tightening of Seattle''s fists.


    It was only a few moments after Admiral Richardson stopped talking before the shouting began.


    "You know, the fact I''ve never seen Seattle angry before makes this all the scarier."


    "Should we do something?"


    "I''ll go get Bremerton. And some ice cream."


    x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x


    "So, how''d the talk with Seattle go?" Admiral Richardson, professionalism be damned, shot a nasty look at Vulcan. Vulcan asking the question was a sign that she knew exactly how well that conversation went. Even without the smug look on her face.


    "Better than I feared, worse than I hoped," that was the truth. Richardson had never seen Seattle get like that before. Her anger at worst was maybe a slight elevation in her voice. This time, she was outright livid. He''d almost describe it as scary. Off the records, of course. It wasn''t like Richardson was in any danger, but to see Seattle angry? That was not an emotion he''d seen her display and was not one he was in any hurry to see again.


    It was always the nice ones, he swore.


    "And, how exactly are Isabella and Luzon?" Vulcan''s smug expression changed into a much more somber one.


    "To quote you? Better than I feared, worse than I hoped," Vulcan sighed. "The fact she''s already considering therapy without any prompting is at least a good sign. But I''m starting to think Isabella is worse off than she thinks she is, and she''s under no illusions that she''s close to well."


    Richardson''s eyebrow raised. Great. More bad news.


    "Isabella''s had a hard time navigating around. She hasn''t gotten lost. At least, not yet, and I''m worried about what will happen when she ultimately does. I''m currently working on getting some guide system set up for the two."


    "And as for their sleep?" the number of expletives that came out of Vulcans mouth was enough to tell Richardson that he was going to love this.


    "Omaha has already put forth a request for Luzon to move into the cruiser quarters for the remainder of the trip. One I recommend is carried on when they arrive at the dorms. Both Luzon and Isabella both suffer from night terrors that only seem to be soothed with each other''s presence," Vulcan flipped through a stack of papers, likely reports. "What''s really concerning is what South Dakota told me about an hour ago."


    "Go on," Richardson prompted, a deep feeling in his gut.


    "After finding Isabella lost in one of the hallways, South Dakota lead her and Luzon back to the mess hall. Isabella asked South Dakota if she was like to join them for breakfast," this, didn''t seem so bad. Surely, seeking out social interaction was a good sign, right?


    "South Dakota said, that when she accepted, Isabella tried to smile at her," Richardson paused for a moment.


    "Tried?"


    "Yes sir," Vulcan''s curtness was striking. "South Dakota described it as more of a blank look than anything else. But she felt like Isabella was trying to give something like a grin."


    That sounded, problematic. A British understatement to is sure. At least Isabella was considering therapy. Jesus. How bad were things that a willingness to see a therapist could be considered a silver lining?


    "Thoughts?"


    Vulcan let out a sigh.


    "I don''t think her ability to feel emotion is impaired. At least, not that much, if that is your concern. Depression will probably be an issue going forward, though I''d rather Isabella get diagnosed by a trained professional, compared to my untrained shelf. As for where it came from?" Vulcan''s shoulders sagged. Richardson would scarcely call it a shrug. It was more of a heave than anything else. "I not certain. South Dakota is the only person to report the issue, so it''s a recent development."


    "Isabella''s not going to be ready for debriefing, is she?" Richardson frowned, more of a statement than a question. The brass wanted answers, not that he blamed them, and he was only capable of doing so much when it can to stalling for time. As much as Richardson would sooner avoid forcing Isabella to relive her trauma so soon.


    "So long as you don''t question her on what happened after she was captured, it''d probably go a lot better than you''d think," Vulcan''s words nearly made Richardson bite on his tongue to keep from swearing. Part of the reason was specifically just that. What happened while she was captured. Yes, exactly how Isabella ended up in the middle of the South Pacific was a question that many wanted to be answered. One of the biggest.


    But what exactly the Abyssal wanted was another. Simply in part due to the strangeness of it all. Abyssal''s simply did not take prisoners. At least, as far as they knew. A few, very minor elements had raised concerns that this whole event was some type of false flag operation, to get a plant on the inside.


    Mercifully, most of those people had been told to shut up. Richardson could only imagine the damage that could have been done if they tried to talk with Isabella. He could see it either ending in a complete mental breakdown or a fist to the jaw. Neither of those things going partially well.


    "Really?" Still, that didn''t sound exactly right.


    "I don''t see why not. That would be the first major trauma point, right? Waking up alone may have shaken her up a bit, but I can''t think of anything else that would be traumatizing until that point," Vulcan frowned. "Not accounting for anything weird, of course. Which wouldn''t surprise me if that''s likely."


    "Oh?" Richardson prompted, though internally, he was about to place his head in his hands.


    "I. It''s," Vulcan let out a groan of frustration. "Look, there''s no other way to put this, and none of us have any clue how she can do it, so I''m just going to say it. Isabella knows how to cook. Not as in over a fire, because that would at least make some sense. I''m talking about using an oven, here."


    That was not what Richardson had expected. A statement, that at first glance, likely seemed innocuous. Unless one was familiar with shipgirls, it was an extremely innocuous statement.


    But for those familiar? It was anything but. Most shipgirls had some basic knowledge, most of the meals that their cooks had known. Occasionally you got someone with a post-war chief that could make so more complicated recipes. With paper ships, like Isabella, you had none of that knowledge.


    That''s how it was supposed to work.


    "How likely is it that it''s just a case of shipgirl magic?" Richardson already doubted that simple shipgirl strangeness was at play. However, he wanted it on record, just in case, someone did try to brush it off as simply that.


    "Come on," Vulcan let out a snort. "You know just as well as I do the odds of that being the case are next too, if not past, zero."


    "Humor me, if you will," Vulcan''s face turned into a proper scowl.


    "Anyone who wants to chalk this whole thing up to ''shipgirl magic'', is full of several types of feces, sir," Vulcan ground out. "Despite all its strangeness, ''shipgirl magic'' has rules to it. There is a method to the madness, but there are patterns to it as well. What Isabella is doing violates most of what we know. This type of behavior? If she saw someone cook and merely had picked up the skill, then maybe Isabella could be written off as a fast learner. But to our knowledge, nobody has taught her any of this. Her crew shouldn''t be able to teach her, either."


    "There is more going on here. I''m not sure what. We just have far too many blanks on Isabella at this point to even attempt to start piecing things together," Vulcan let out a sigh.


    "Amnesia? Maybe she was on one of the islands, awakened, made an escape, lost her memory, then went back?" Richardson was spitballing at this point.


    "If that were the case, then her fairies would have likely stepped in to stop her from heading back, or tried to, which we have no evidence of. Plus, adding to the strangeness is the fact she chose her name."


    No, Richardson had not forgotten that piece of information. If it wasn''t for her being captured, finding out how exactly Isabella managed to pull that off had been one of the biggest questions the brass wanted answered. Just one more on the preverbal mountain.


    "And what about Luzon?" Vulcan flipped through a few more papers.


    "No mysteries with her. Luzon''s pretty much a ball of trauma walking around in the body of a six-year-old. If Isabella''s nearby, she''s less scared and at least willing to tolerate others. Without Isabella? Luzon becomes borderline phobic of anything larger than an American Destroyer," Vulcan shook her head. "And that''s only slightly better than how she interacts with none-American shipgirls."


    "And we''re sending them to Sasebo. Great," Richardson resisted the urge to rest his head in his hands. The fact, barring some miracle, that they might be working on Luzon''s timetable was concerning enough. A transfer was an option, but it was a double-edged sword, given how separating the two wasn''t going to work out. If Isabella was at least trying to make connections, severing them wasn''t going to help her recover.


    But ultimately, it was a catch-22. A transfer could help Luzon, at least marginally, but it would likely set Isabella back. Which in the long run, wouldn''t do Luzon much good, either, especially as attached as they were.


    Something to put a pin in, Richardson supposed. If they were lucky, maybe Luzon would similarly take to Seattle.


    He could certainly hope.


    "At least they''ll be back at safe port soon enough," Richardson let out a sigh.


    "Please, do not try taunting Murphy right now," Vulcan almost mimicked his slump. "A lot can happen in a few days, and you know it."