《That Time I Reincarnated as a Shipgirl (Kancolle SI)》


 Chapter 1

    She let out a sigh, finally sitting down on the solid bench. Maybe coming out here was a bad idea. Sure, she got to see her sister again, and her daughter always enjoyed playing with her cousins, but she wasn''t ready for so much walking. Not with another one on the way.


    "Tired?" her sister sat down next to her, watching over the chaos that would surely unfold in the dinosaur-themed gift shop. All she did was give a wordless nod, keeping eye on her child.


    While the two young boys had already run off, playing with any toy they could get their hands on, and their younger sister played around with the first stuffed animal that got her attention, her daughter eyed the selves. Unlike most small children that would be running around at breakneck speeds, she was slow, deliberate.


    She''d seen her daughter act like that before. Normally, she was a bit quiet, but still an energetic toddler. It was like she was searching for something. She was never sure what her daughter was trying to find. It was usually random. Sometimes it was a misplaced toy, which had long thought to be lost. Others, it was just a babble, something shiny and interesting.


    Maybe she''d just saw a stuffed animal she really liked and was just going to retrieve it?


    "We do need to hang out more often," her younger sister drew her attention.


    "We do. But I don''t think we''ll be able to do much until after this one is born," she ran her hand across her stomach, over the sizable bump.


    "Got any names yet?"


    "We''re thinking Joseph, for a boy, Laura, for a girl," she would have said more if it wasn''t for her daughter making a loud squeak of joy. Both she and her sister''s heads turned quickly, watching the small child grab something off a shelf. It took a moment for her daughter to free the prize, but once she did, she began to toddle over, running as fast as her little legs could carry her, toothy grin on her face.


    "His name is Fuzzy, Mommy," she grinned, looking upwards at her as if her daughter was speaking some self-evident truth.


    "Of course she is Kathrine," she ruffled her daughter''s hair, and Kathrine beamed even more.


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


    "Kathrine, stop this!" Jacob got another splash of water to his face for his protest. Bathtime was never an easy time. For most families, it was getting their kid into the bathtub. Kathrine?


    Kathrine took to water far better than any kid her age should. No, getting her into the bath was never the problem. It was getting her hair washed. For all Kathrine''s love of water, she wouldn''t submerge herself. Getting it above her head? She would resist. A lot.


    Another shout of defiance went out from the tub, as her husband rubbed the water off his glasses.


    "I swear, the time she''s old enough to bath herself cannot come fast enough," he scowled, shaking his hair. She just shook her head, chuckling all the while.


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


    She watched her Grandaughters legs swing back and forth. Her arms were locked around two stuffed animals. One a plush triceratops, the other a rainbow covered elephant.


    "Nervous?" She asked her, looking down at the three-year-old. "You''re mother''s going to be just fine." Her legs didn''t stop, and she muttered something into her stuffed animals, nearly clutching them against her face.


    "I''m not going to get a sister."


    The older of the two frowned. That was uncharacteristic. She''d been ecstatic for months about having a younger sister. Why was she suddenly acting like she wasn''t?


    "I thought you always wanted a sister?" she ruffled her granddaughter''s hair, combing her fingers through the curly blonde mess.


    "I want a sister. I know I''m going to get a brother," Kathrine proceeded to shove her face into her stuffed animals again, falling back into silence.


    In the end, Caroline thought nothing of it, even as Joseph was born into the world.


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


    Ow, ow, ow! My head! How was it possible for it to hurt this much!


    Had I been drinking? Was this a hangover? I swore to never touch alcohol, so I doubted it, but I was at a complete lack of other explanations. My arms pushed my body upward, only to be wracked by another lance of pain streaking through my skull.


    "Sweety, are you okay?" I must have let out a yelp of pain or something, as my mom''s voice echoed down the hall. A few moments later, the door to my room creaked open, flooding my space with light. My eyes squeezed shut, in some vain attempt to block out the light.


    A few moments later, I felt a hand press against my forehead. Something didn''t feel right. It was too big, much too big, to be my mother''s hand.


    "You don''t seem to have a fever. Can you tell me what''s wrong?" she was acting like I was a kid or something!


    "Head, hurts," I ground out. It hurt to talk, hurt to think. Like there was a jackhammer crashing against my skull.


    I cracked my eyes open, squinting through the light. I could make out the faint outline of my mother, a shadowy block surrounded by rays of pain. Red hair swirled behind her, looking longer, without some of the gray that had begun to weave its way in.


    "I see. I''ll call the school, and tell them you aren''t going in today," she made her way towards the door, flipping off the light switch as she went. "You just get some rest, okay?"


    School? What was she talking about? It was the middle of summer, and even if I wasn''t, I was in college!


    Another lance of agony ripped it''s way through my skull, extinguishing that line of thought.


    Sleep sounded good.


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


    I was unsure how much time I spent resting. Everything felt like a semi-lucid blur. By the time I returned to my senses, my headache had retreated somewhat. It still throbbed with pain, but I was at least able to take stock of my situation.


    I gazed around the room. Despite that dark purple lined the walls, with brightly colored flowers painted on it, I still recognized it. The doors to both the closet and the rest of the house were in the same location, as were the windows.


    It didn''t matter if the room was the most stereotypical girl''s room ever, I still recognized it for what it was.


    This was my room.


    I winced as another lance of pain shot through my brain. A voice at the back of my mind shouted that it wasn''t my room. That it was her room. Katherine''s room.


    Wait, no! I wasn''t Katherine! Ow! Fuck! Brain! Stop!


    Just because I looked like a child, doesn''t mean I was one!


    I felt a coppery taste on my tongue as I bit down to keep myself from screaming in pain. Screw you! This was my house! This was my room! This is my body! I wasn''t a small child! And my name wasn''t Kathrine!


    This time, I screamed in pain, leg''s curling up against my chest. My hands clutched my forehead, fingers grabbing at hair that was longer than it was ever was.


    No, this wasn''t my body. I was a man in my twenties, not a preteen girl! This couldn''t be my body!


    The pain relented, the hammering of the nail through my brain subsiding. I cranked my eyes back open, whipping away the trickle of blood that ran down my lips. Gingerly, I placed my feet on the floor, feeling the carpet curl its way around my toes. A few steps took me to the window, grasping the curtains, before pulling them aside.


    I hissed in pain, the sun burning at my eyes for a brief moment. As they finally adjusted to the rays, I gazed ahead.


    It was the same. My neighborhood, the place where I grew up. It was the exact damn same! I threw the curtain back over the window in an attempt to block out the cursed image.


    What the hell! What the actual fuck is going on! My mom was younger. I was younger, and I was a girl! I began to pace, stepping back and forth across the carpet in a room that was and wasn''t mine.


    Okay, think. What was the last thing I remembered? Before I woke up?


    I fell to a knee, a burning shot of pain burrowing its way through my skull. I couldn''t. I was at home, avoiding the plague, but that was all I could recall.


    Another shudder of pain ran its way through my body. I couldn''t remember. But Kathrine? The girl that had taken my place? She could.


    Fire screamed in my skull.


    I wasn''t sure if I passed out in my bed, or I just collapsed on the floor.


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


    "Sweety, are you alright?" a voice broke through my dreamless sleep, finally causing me to stir. My hand reached for my head, prepared for another agonizing headache.


    Rather than the lance of pain, I felt nothing. No, not nothing. I couldn''t quite explain it. Acceptance, maybe?


    "I''m fine mom," I tried to keep my voice as tired and exhausted as possible. It wasn''t hard. Even if I spent the entire day passed out, I was probably about to fall over. I was just drained, sapped of any strength. "Just tired still."


    A frown grew on my mother''s face. "If you''re sure, sweety. Do you think you''ll be able to join us for dinner?"


    At the mention of food, my stomach let out a rumble of protest. Mom chuckled, giggling at my now embarrassed face.


    "Dinner will be in thirty minutes. Please don''t try to sleep until bedtime," I nodded at my mother''s words as she left my room, not trusting myself to give the game up. As the door closed, I slumped against the pillow, closing my eyes and rubbing my head.


    This situation sucked. I''m not sure how I ended up like this, what could easily be more than a decade in the past and the wrong gender to boot. But even if I did, I wouldn''t be able to solve it. Which meant I was stuck here. As Kathrine.


    A what, six, seven-year-old? No, six. Wait, how did I? Oh. She''d, I''d had our birthday just last week. I let myself rollover, nearly bumping my head against a plush animal. I gently grabbed at the dark mass, pulling it closer to my face.


    Fuzzy?


    She, I, still got Fuzzy? I squeezed the stuffed triceratops as close to my chest as possible. She still convinced mom to buy her this? Why? Her interests had to be different than mine. Why would she seek out a stuffed animal I had owned?


    It would only work if she had my memories. Maybe just vague recollections. I don''t know.


    But, even if I didn''t know-how, I knew what it meant. We were the same.


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


    No. Please, stop! Leave us alone!


    We were still useful! We could still fight! We can still serve!


    Despite the screams of pain from my sisters and me, the men around us paid no heed to our protests.


    Blowtorches peeled back skin, bones were torn out, stomach drained of food.


    Screams and protests rang out around, in a vain attempt to hold back fate.


    Eventually, my voice fell silent. There was nothing we could say that would change their mind. Our time had ended. For the last time, my eyes closed.


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


    A strangled scream died in my throat, body covered in sweat. Blankets flew off my body as I bolded upright, breathing harsh and ragged. What time was it?


    Actually, no, I didn''t want to know. This was probably some forsaken hour. I slumped down, falling back into my pillows warm embrace. After a few minutes, my breathing began to steady, as did my pounding heart.


    Okay, what the hell was up with this dream? I wasn''t a stranger to abnormal or otherwise weird nightmares. Hell, I had quite vivid memories of being chased around the neighborhood being chased by a tornado. A human tornado.


    But this? Not only did this feel real, but it was also a dream I''ve had at least three separate times. Repeat dreams were rare for me, and what few times I''d gotten them, it was usually a two-time event.


    So what the hell was going on with this?


    I let out a stretch and a yawn. This wasn''t the time for this. I had school tomorrow, after all.


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


    Her feet shifted. This was their first parent-teacher conference. Their first one since the change. Normally, their daughter was energetic, an absolute handful. They had trouble getting her to read books, and do not interrupt conversations.


    Now? Her personality was near 180. Kathrine was extremely quiet, spending most of her time with her face shoved in some book, oftentimes well above what she should have been able to reasonably read. She''d seen her daughter reading Harry Potter. Sure, it was a book series still awaiting completion, but she was in the first grade.


    School was also a topic that had changed. Normally, when asked about how school went, Kathrine would babble on for hours at a time. Then she just started referring to ''the usual'', ''fine'', and other one-word answers.


    It had filled her with concern. Was her daughter being bullied?


    "I have to admit, I''m a bit surprised. I can see why Kathrine is such a good student," the young lady smiled, laying out a folder full of drawings, quizzes, and other numerous classwork papers. "Not only does your daughter have some of the best grades in the entire class, but she also tends to cause the least amount of trouble."


    Loren let out a breath she wasn''t even aware she was holding.


    "My only possible complaint is that she doesn''t interact with her classmates much," the teacher said, as Loren sharply took in-breath again. "She isn''t being bullied or anything, to my knowledge. Kathrine said she just finds her peers annoying, and immature."


    Loren blinked. Immature? They were six to seven years old!


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


    My head was underwater. Submerged. My limbs flailed about, finally grabbing hold of the offending arm.


    "Stop dunking me, you jerk! I shouted as I burst to the surface, kicking away the asshole. He laughed, as my eyes narrowed. Oh, it was so hard to bite back the curses I''d drop on him. I hate you. I hate you beyond words can describe you piece of shit. I don''t care if it was an actual lifetime ago, you made my elementary school life a living hell.


    I didn''t understand why when our respective mothers wanted to hang out, they dragged us along with them. Maybe it was because we were the same age?


    "You should have seen the look on your face," he howled cackling like the hyena he was.


    "You should see the look on your face when I''m done punching it," I ground out, fingers clenching into a fist. No. I''m not dealing with two lifetimes of your shit.


    "My nose has been replaced by a titanium plate. You''d just hurt yourself," he said, lying through his teeth, as easily as he breathed. Yeah, you tried that shit the last time too.


    "So I''ve been told," my eyes narrowed. He blinked as if taken by surprise for a moment.


    "I never told you that before," his face grew confused, an expression I will always treasure. I took that moment to punch him in the face.


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


    I had an hour''s worth of time-out when I got home, forced to face the corner.


    Still worth it.


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


    I kept my eyes on the TV as I made my way up the stairs. My parents always watched nine O''clock news. I frowned, watching the initial bid of international news. Another missing ship? That''s what? The sixth this week? I scowled, digging back into my memory as far as it went. This didn''t seem right.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    If I had paid attention in the past, I would know it wasn''t right. It wasn''t right at all. None of the vessels should have gone missing.


    But I hadn''t. Ultimately, I was forced to shrug off the unfortunate events and unfortunate circumstances.


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


    The ground shook. Bombs exploded with tremendous force, turning buildings into rubble. Underground, in a basement turned bomb-shelter, my family waited out the bombardment. Each shake, there was a jump of fear. And with it, any chance of this being me being transferred to some wacky gender-bent version of my previous life.


    Mom''s arms were wrapped around me so tight they hurt, a near-death squeeze around my stomach. I couldn''t blame her. I was horrified. This wasn''t supposed to be happening. These things, that crawled out of the ocean, and began slaughtering people across the world shouldn''t exist.


    The US military had scrambled against the new threat. Airforce, Navy, and Army. All of it marshaled against an enemy, unlike anything we''d ever seen before. It wasn''t much better. The navy lost dozens of vessels trying to defend the coastlines. Fighters were lost by the hundreds. Ground troops? What do you think a tank is going to do against a ship?


    It wasn''t to say we didn''t have victories. The Mississippi River, for example, had been fortified, after an attack force tried to use it as a means to attack America''s interior. But what victories we had were bloody.


    But there were rumblings of something new entering the fray. Human ships. The first allegedly appeared off the coast of Japan. Another appeared just off the west coast.


    I would normally be suspicious of such rumors. But if Abyssal''s were real? Why wouldn''t shipgirls?


    Another blast quaked the earth. A bomb had fallen closer to our house this time.


    And in my heart, I felt the flicker of fire.


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


    "Kathrine! Keep up the pace!" I rolled my eyes but increased my pace, all the same, my feet slapping against the track. Running was a hobby I''d picked up before, I, well, this all happened. I''d done my best to apply the lessons I''d learned in my previous life here. Exercise and eat healthy, and keep good study habits. Not to mention all the social lessons I learned and reinforced.


    Sure, my friend circle was fairly similar. I was still a nerd at heart after all. But I was far better than I was, less prone to react to every single small thing. The advantages of having twenty-something odd years of social experience.


    But on to that running thing. I decided to do something new. I''d pretty much spent my life doing the same things. Well, mostly. I was trying out for track and field. Ever since the Abyssal attack, I''d retaken up running with my mother. Both as a means of keeping in shape, but also getting stronger.


    I planned on joining the Navy.


    Normally, I wouldn''t consider the military a carrier path I''d take. It just wasn''t for me. Plus, my glasses, which yes, I still had, turning into a girl had done nothing to fix my eyesight. And there was, well, not to beat around the bush, a few other issues.


    However, I now felt compelled. America, no, all of humanity was facing an extinction-level event. Abbsyals wanted us dead. All of us. If that wasn''t something worth fighting against, then I had no idea what was.


    But that required me to get into better shape. Maybe even joining the cross country team when I got into high school.


    "Good job! You managed to beat your previous time!" Our coach shouted at me as sweat poured down my face like rain. And people wondered why I brought such a huge bottle of water. "Think you''re good for another lap?"


    I took another swig of water from my half-gallon jug, before placing it on the ground.


    "Yes ma''am," I wasn''t lying. Sure, I was producing enough sweat to drown a person, and my lungs felt like they were on fire, but at the end of the day?


    I couldn''t have felt more alive.


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


    "I''m telling you, if there are any two shipgirls in a relationship, it''s Hood and Bismarck," I picked out the noise from the other side of the lunchroom. Even in this life, Jacob was very much the same energetic and loud person he''d always been.


    "Sup, nerds," I teased on the approach, sitting down at my typical spot at the table.


    "Speak for yourself, you''re one of us. Just because you''re on the cross country team, doesn''t make you less of a dork," Jacqueline nodded her head, taking another bite out of her meal.


    "Or any less of a shipgirl nerd," Jacob fired back as I rolled my eyes.


    "Yes, keeping a pulse on important information related to my career path makes me a nerd," I snarked back at him as he let out a hardy laugh, overwhelming the chatter surrounding us. "After all, I''m not the one who''s shipping living beings with those who murdered them in a previous life."


    "She''s got a point with that one," Keith pointed out from behind his laptop, before returning to plucking away at the keys. I wondered what he was working on, but knowing him, it was related to the next round of D&D torture the party would likely reverse onto him.


    "Hey, it''s not my fault I''m speaking the truth here! It''s like shipgirl flirting or something, right?" there was a brief pause in the air before it was filled with the sound of multiple palms smacking foreheads, as Jacob looked around at us, confused.


    "If that were the case, Enterprise would be inundated, stuck at the bottom of a giant pile, rather than dating Yamato," Nathen elbowed Jacob, rolling his eyes.


    "Wait, I heard rumors that Yamato was dating a librarian," Jacqueline''s head cocked to the side, puzzled.


    "It would be impossible to keep anything of that caliber straight in the first place," I let out a snort at Keith''s unknowing joke. He shot me a glare of annoyance. "Not what I meant and you know it, Kathrine."


    "Discerning fiction from reality when it comes to shipgirls can be quite difficult. Submarines enjoy being underwater, however, most shipgirls will avoid such exposure. If forced underwater, panic attacks tend to ensure," Keith continued.


    "That sounds like a certain someone I''m familiar with," Jacob cut in, with my eyes narrowing to slits.


    "I don''t like having my head underwater, okay," I crossed my arms away, trying my best to hide the flush of embarrassment that grew it''s way across my face, doing my best to annoy the chuckles of laughter.


    Gym class sucked!


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


    "We really should go back to Disney World," I almost did a double-take to check if I had the right house. Ever since the Abyssal''s first appeared, Disney World, my family''s traditional vacation spot was off the table. There, my brother had gotten sick of the place, but here? It''s more than five years since we last went.


    "Joseph, it''s simply too dangerous. I''d love to take you and your sister back before she graduates, but until the Abyssal''s are gone, it''s simply not happening," mom chided my younger sibling. Who was again, taller than I was. He sprouted up like a bean stock, while I was even shorter. 5''5 was not intimidating, even with my muscle.


    "Come'' on, sis, back me up here," my brother whined, actually whined, about getting to go to Disney World. I chuckled at the reversal of our traditional rolls, a private joke, rubbing the sweat off my face with the towel around my neck.


    "Leave me out of this," I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, downing it in a few gulps.


    "You keep an eye on the reports. When was the last time the Abyssal''s have struck Florida?" my bother asked, crossing his arms. Even though he was taller than I was, I wasn''t phased by his looming. What I was annoyed by was the fact he stole my height, my birthright as oldest!


    "I know what you''re trying to do," my eyes narrowed. "Anything I say at this point is just taunting Murphy."


    "You and you''re Murphy''s law nonsense. Just tell me," I rolled my eyes. I did want to go to Disney too. Two lifetimes hadn''t been quite enough.


    "Two years. Four and a half, if you consider that those were long-range Atlantic based strike groups. There has no major attack on Florida since the Abyssal fleet was driven out the Gulf of Mexico," I rattled off, taking another sip of water.


    "See! Even the shipgirl nut thinks it''s safe!" water exited my mouth like a geyser, coughing loudly.


    "Firstly, just because I keep a pulse on what shipgirl''s are doing, doesn''t make me a nut," I sputtered defensively, "Secondly, that''s not what I said at all." I was going to have to clean off the table, wasn''t I?


    "Sounds like it to me," I shot him a glare.


    "I said it was statistically unlikely. I never said it was safe," I ground out, annoyed. Just because I was shorter than you didn''t mean I couldn''t knock you on your ass.


    "Tomato, tamato," he waved his hand dismissively. I growled. This. This is why we didn''t get along.


    "Kathrine. Shower. Now." mom ordered before the two of us could start shouting at each other. "We''ll discuss this more at dinner."


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


    And that''s how my family and I ended up on our first return trip to Florida.


    We weren''t landing in Orlando, either. Orlando, like most of Florida, had been hit hard, and much of the state was focused on rebuilding. Airports, while a necessity for the military, were no expectation. Given how much harder international traffic was, as going over any large body of water was effectively suicide, rebuilding the airport in Orlando was put on the backburner.


    It was simply too large and expensive to repair, and what had been was more frequently used to transport goods or troops. A location not too far from the frontline, without being directly near the water''s edge. Instead, we were landing at a smaller airport further north, and would simply rent a vehicle and make the rest of our journey that way.


    Not to say I didn''t protest the decision, but my brother and father somehow convinced mom to go along with the insanity.


    I shook my head, shoving my face back into the game I was playing. Honestly, I couldn''t wait to stretch and move around, at least for a bit. The hour car ride was going to be fun, let me tell you.


    Suddenly, the plane lurched in the air, sending me bouncing out of my seat, my device nearly flying from my grasp. I heard a few squeaks and grumbles from the other passengers, as I began to fasten the seatbelt.


    It was fine. Just some turbulence is all. My eyes shifted to the window, spotting what looked like a small black cloud pass by. Looking further down, across the ground and out to sea, I saw a flash. Seconds later the plane rocked again.


    Not turbulence. Not turbulence at all.


    "Uh," I was about to grab my dad''s attention, pointing to him that we were presently being shot at, in some desperate attempt to calm my panicking nerves.


    "This is the captain speaking," the intercom burst to life as my foot began to vibrate. "As a result of complications, we will be making an emergency landing. We are sorry for the inconvenience this may cause, but it is for the safety of our passengers. Thank you for your time."


    "I wonder that was about," I sent my father a look as the plane shook even more violently.


    "It might have something to do with that," I couldn''t stop my voice from breaking, the vibrating of my foot picking up speed as I tried to burn off the growing sense of dread.


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


    "Please, exit the plane in a calm and orderly fashion," the loudspeaker continued to blare throughout the plane. I doubted anyone was listening. My family sure wasn''t. But we were caught in the rush of people, which had slowed to a crawl. By this point, I was practically bouncing in place. It helped the panic from setting in. It helped me stop thinking. It helped me ignore the pain.


    My chest hurt. My heartfelt like it was both on the verge of freezing up in fear and igniting into a raging inferno. Artillery thundered, and the first time in years, I could hear the sound of dropping bombs, their screams through the air followed by a quaking blast.


    A loud crack echoed through the air, loud and close, drowning out the sound around us. For a moment, it hung in the air, before the airplane broke in half. I scream as the back half the plane skidded across the runway, struggling to keep my balance as my arms wrapped around a nearby chair. My brother and those around me had the same idea, as we finally skidded to a stop. Even then, I kept my death grip on the seat, afraid to let go as my knuckles turned white.


    I looked behind me as others struggled to get to their feet. Further in the back, I could see my parents slowly standing back up. They weren''t hurt, thank goodness.


    But, what caused that? Planes just don''t break apart like that.


    "Sis, whatever you do, don''t move," I heard my brother speak, his voice barely a faint whisper.


    I couldn''t stop myself, I turned towards the opening, only to freeze up completely. It looked like a deformed dog. Stubby legs that shouldn''t allow it to fit on land. A head several times too large, with jaws to match.


    My heart froze completely, caught halfway through a beat. Its eyes were on me, staring, unblinking, unfeeling. People were screaming behind me, panicking, rushing for any emergency exit they could find. I was numb to it all, gaze fixed ahead at the monster that would certainly be the death of me.


    I was going to die here. On this airplane. And everyone else was going to follow. My brother. My mother. My father. Everyone on this plane was dead. We couldn''t outrun it, we couldn''t fight it. It''s maw widened, revealing the gun hidden inside to the entire world. It would kill all of us.


    Something began to burn. I could feel heat roar. Had someone set a fire? No, that wasn''t right. I couldn''t smell smoke, couldn''t hear the crackle of flames. It was, inside of me?


    It was. I could feel it. I didn''t know what it meant. Maybe I was going crazy, madness induced by my coming final moments. Perhaps.


    Or maybe, just maybe, nobody was dying today.


    The destroyer fired, screams drowned out by the powerful discharge as the shot rocketed towards my frame. At that moment, my heart ceased its beat.


    And fire took its place. Boilers rumbled to life, shaking off decades of cobwebs to ignite once more. Systems, ancient and neglected, came online for the first time in ages. Within my hull crew stirred, called back to uphold their oath and duty once more. Armor formed on my skin, steel to turn aside enemy shells. Firing crews shouted their affirmation as decades-old weapons came back as green.


    Metal screamed in protest, quickly giving way to my new bulk sending my crashing into the tarmac below. Rigging fell into place as I turned, bringing as much of my armament to bear.


    "All guns. Open fire!"


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

 Chapter 2

    My guns fired, an erupted of gunpowder and steel. My three, seven, eight, and even twelve-inch guns unleashed their payload, a literal wall of explosive shells. As the smoke began to clear, there was nothing left of the destroyer, the tarmac pocket marked with craters.


    I held air push from my lungs, taking in a gulp of fresh air. Had I been holding my breath? Was I holding it this whole time?


    I took a tentative step forward, putting another hole in the tarmac, foot causing it to crack, even if I stepped down as gentle as I could. Steel groaned beneath my skin as my muscles coiled.


    My clothes had been replaced, shirt and shorts instead now a near knee-length dress, one ripped straight out of the ''20s. There was a tightness around my neck, a white handkerchief that brought out the blue of my new sleeveless dress nicely.


    Then there was my rigging. The first part that stuck where the gloves on my hands, on which sat two large batteries, my twin emplacements for my four twelve-inch guns. Meanwhile, the rest of my armament hung off my sides. A variable cavalcade of my remaining arsenal of eight-inch, seven-inch, three-inch, and my smaller one and three-pounder guns.


    I was the USS-Kansas. BB-21. The fourth ship of the Connecticut line. Among the last of the US''s pre-dreadnought era vessels. A ship that had been scraped for parts, made obsolete in only a handful of years after her construction.


    But obsolete didn''t mean useless. Sure, I was old, outdated by the end of the first World War, and hopelessly outclassed by the battleships that sailed in the second.


    But I was still a battleship. A shipgirl.


    And from the sound of it, I was the only one here. I couldn''t be for sure, my radio was far too primitive to pick up or receive messages of note.


    I looked up at the broken half the plane behind me. My brother stared back at me, with a look of shock written all over his face. I could pick up the voices of my parents, slowly shoving their way through the throngs of people.


    They were completely defenseless. The Abyssal''s would kill them in a heartbeat, for fun, taking some type of sick twisted pleasure out of it. My fists clenched with the force to grind steel into dust. Like hell they would. I wasn''t going to let them. I wouldn''t let the Abyssal''s hurt my family. Not now, not ever.


    "Keep an eye on them, alright! I''ll be back soon!" I shouted up at my brother as he shook his head in a daze.


    I''m pretty sure he shouted back at me as I thundered across the tarmac, heading towards the sound of battle.


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


    I had no idea what proper military protocol was. Was there even protocol for a human becoming a shipgirl? Being a shipgirl?


    Even my footfalls were drowned out by the thunder of artillery, numerous pieces firing rounds at the Abyssal attackers. It wasn''t doing much, and several were already reduced to wrecks of steel from counterfire.


    "Sir?" I approached the individual that appeared to be in charge. I didn''t have much to go off. He was busy shouting into a radio, barking out orders. If he was in charge of the defense, then he should be the person I report too, right? I didn''t think this one through. My feet shifted, grinding into the tarmac.


    "And Richardson, I told you to get the civilians into the bunker!" he shouted, starting to turn his head around. "We still have one right." His pause would have been humorous if we were outside of our present situation.


    "I see," there was a frown on his face as he stared at me. "Normally, I would ask you if you were a fresh awakening, but that seems rather obvious."


    I nodded my head, doing my best to keep my bristling turrets pointed away from anyone.


    "Then I am going to ask for your name, age, ship designation, and, identification number if you remember it."


    "My human name is Kathrine, and I''m seventeen sir. My crew tells me I''m the USS Kansas, BB-21."


    His face went from a frown to one made of pale stone in a second. He looked back from the radio to me, as if to confirm I was seventeen. Yes, I know I''m short! Doesn''t make me young!


    "Forth in the Connecticut line, correct?" I nodded again, as the man let out a string of curses, before turning around to face me.


    "Before you offer what I know you''re about to, no," his finger pointed towards me. "Not only are you underage, but you also have no training for this type of situation. Reinforcements are ten minutes out."


    My jaw tightened for a moment. I wanted to fight, yes. But he wasn''t wrong. Sure, I killed a destroyer, but that was mostly luck. It was on dry land, standing still, a target too close to miss. Plus, there was one simple fact.


    I scowled at the planes that filled the air. There was no way my four one pounders could handle this. Maybe was getting ahead of myself. But still.


    I didn''t want to be helpless. I didn''t want to leave it entirely to everyone else.


    "Sir, you must be joking," I paused, looking back towards the radio. "Sir, she just awakened. Isn''t even of age. She''s seventeen, sir. You can only enlist with parental consent at that age. Sir, if they''re anywhere, they''d be in the shelter by now."


    "She''s BB-21. Yes, that Kansas. Sir, she''s a natural-born more than twenty years out of date and untrained to boot," I watched as the man''s knuckles turned white. "I understand sir." Ultimately, the man''s shoulders slumped in defeat.


    "I don''t agree with this, I doubt a lot of others will too," he sighed, shaking his head. "However, my orders stand." I could have sworn he wanted to say something following that but held his tongue.


    "All I''m ordering you to do is stay close to shore. Do not chase, do not pursue. If you take critical damage, or just can''t balance right now, just use your guns from here. Am I understood?"


    "Yes sir!" my salute was likely terrible if the look he gave me was anything to go by.


    "If you can, try to keep radio contact as well," he ordered, before turning his head.


    "My crew has been sending out signals since I awoke, sir. They should be in morse, sir," My words left a pause in the air.


    "Damnit! I told you that''s where the morse code was coming from Jones!"


    An explosion drew my eye, as another wave of bombers passed overhead. They were targeting the base! I scowled, faulting over the small barricade and into the surf. Screw them! I''ll take them all on!


    I zeroed in on the closest vessel I could spot, another small destroyer, screening for a larger Abyssal. A light, no, that was a heavy cruiser of some sort. This I could handle. If I could draw away the destroyer, all the better.


    "Fire!" explosions bloomed out of my rigging, shells rocketing forth as my body lurched to the side, nearly losing my already tedious footing. A few seconds later, water erupted around the Abyssal like fountains. Yes! Another direct hit! So far, two for two! I got this in the bag!


    As the water settled, I realized something.


    I had miscalculated. Big time.


    I hadn''t sunk the destroyer. I''d hit it, the creature now had a fire on its snout, one that I was certain wasn''t present before. But it was very much unsunk. And very much angry.


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    Good news, it wasn''t acting as a screen nor was it shooting at the soldiers.


    Bad news, I was the new target. And I wasted all my shots.


    Reload. Reload, and fire at will. Any time would be nice!


    It''s gun cracked its retort, it''s single five-inch gun racking me with fire. Sure, each shell couldn''t get through my armor, but each shot felt like a bee sting. Three shots slammed into my arm as I covered my face, one leaving a burning sensation. My smaller guns returned fire, the thud of my three-inch and three-pounders firing music to my ears.


    But the damn thing just kept coming! Sure, the smaller three-pounders wouldn''t do much, but my three-inch batteries should be doing something! What were the Abyssal''s feeding these demented things! It''s like a torpedo!


    Wait! That''s it! Prep port side torpedo tube for launch and


    I screamed in pain, something much larger than the destroyer''s shots puncturing into my shoulder. Ow! Fucker! Oh, just you wait, little miss heavy cruiser. Once I''m done with your dog, you''re next!


    Launch it! Launch it now!


    Instead of being shot visibly over the side, as most destroyers did, I had my torpedo tubes underwater. Stationary, yes, making them nearly impossible to aim. But it wasn''t as easily telegraphed, and for a destroyer trying to rush me, that made all the difference. If it focused on me and didn''t notice.


    Retorts continued to issue from my guns, trying to keep it focusing on me. Still, it rushed through the water, barreling towards me. Its body began to turn, shifting through the waves.


    Where was that torpedo! Had it hit maxim range or something? Go dead in the water? I knew what it was aiming to do. Destroyer? This close to battleship? I knew that it was going to launching torpedoes!


    I began to pull myself into a turn, attempting to throw off its aim.


    Then the water erupted, a massive geyser shot forth by an explosion, nearly drowning out the destroyers screams of pain. Okay, please let that be enough to kill the little bastard.


    By the time the water settled, my wish had come true, with the darkened mass of steel slipping beneath the waves. Good, now I just need to deal with the heavy cruiser, and that was right over.


    I wince as the heavy cruiser lands another salvo, two shells slamming into my left leg and another right underneath my ribs. Damnit, I lost track of it while dealing with the destroyer!


    My twelve-inch guns groaned as I rotated, correcting for their new target, supported by my eight-inch guns. Each of the smaller guns might as well be useless, but I brought my three inches to bare as well.


    Another bloom of gunfire crashed into me, leaving more cuts and impacts along my body. Yeah, yeah, you little shit, flaunt your faster reload. I have something you don''t. Large guns.


    Once in position, I returned fire, smaller shells bouncing off its armor, but my larger guns were much more effective. My eight-inch shells match it''s own, and combined with my main batteries, this was a war of attrition. One I could win.


    Then the bombs started dropping. One splashed into the water harmlessly. The second didn''t.


    I screamed. Pain flared across my shoulder on impact, shrapnel flying in all directions. Fragments cut into my face, leaving gashes the bleed freely down my cheek. What weapons I had free turned towards the sky, letting loose a barrage of bullets.


    Move! MOVE! I began to correct my course, swerving around in a mad panic. More shells splashed down around me, thrown off by my erratic movement, delightfully reminding me once again to the cruiser''s existence. It had strayed closer, with my main guns prepped and ready. A terrible mistake.


    It bellowed as my shells tore into its armor, with its crashing into mine. One more salvo should be enough, but by that point, I''d at least take another volley. Then there was the matter of those freaking bombers! There were just so many of.


    I raised my hand just in the nick of time, intercepting a bomb that would have connected with my head dead-on.


    I don''t even know if I screamed. One second, my hand was there. The next, the bomb punched through the top of one of my main guns and into the ammo belt.


    Then I couldn''t feel my hand anymore. Not even pain. Just nothing. Something warm splattered across my face, splashing into my eyes.


    I tried rubbing the amalgamation of blood and oil from my sockets attempting to clear my vision. Another salvo of shots were fired, but I couldn''t tell from where. An explosion rang off from my right, as the Abyssal cruiser let out a deathly scream.


    Wait? Could it be? Reinforcements?


    Had it been ten minutes, truly? I needed to find them! Sweet, sweet air cover!


    Another bomb. I''d been fumbling around blind, I couldn''t have seen it. This one slammed into my ankle, at just the right angle.


    I couldn''t keep my balance, my foot now just a bloody stump of a limb. With time, I did scream, my propeller giving out, as pain lanced through my body. My momentum carried me forward, tumbling into the water''s surface. I threw my arms outward, trying to catch myself, only to crash into the water face first.


    Agony arced it''s way through my hand as salt splashed into the wound. Everything ached, everything hurt. But I couldn''t stay still. I was enough of a sitting duck as is. My right arm strained, pushing up the weight of my frame with ease. But I still couldn''t move, water failing to provide any purchase. I couldn''t even crawl.


    How pitiful was that? I couldn''t even manage to drag myself away from a fight. I was so dead. An immobile battleship, surrounded by enemy planes without support? I was going the die out here. There was an all too familiar scream in the air, the sound of a plane pulling into a dive.


    Mom. Dad. Joseph. I''m sorry.


    There was a click, the detachment of a bomb. I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to come. There was an explosion.


    The pain didn''t come.


    Wiping enough blood from my face to regain at least some vision, I looked up at my savior. She was tall, so much taller than I was. Her rigging bloomed with armaments far larger than my own, but that wasn''t the surprise. Strapped in her hands were two massive shields, one being used to cover us both from incoming fire. Her other hand reached down as if to offer me a hand up.


    "You are the Kansas, I presume," her voice was sweet, sounding like an older sister. I accepted it, being torn onto my feet by the larger and younger ship.


    "Denver, Phoenix, I have her. We need to withdraw back to base immediately. She''s hurt. Badly," her voice turned stern, ordering both smaller vessels. I think they were cruisers? Cruisers were named after cities, right?


    I might be feeling a bit loopy. No, I was a bit loopy. Pain? Blood loss? Who could tell? I sure couldn''t.


    A few more booms sounded off in the distance.


    "Ma''am, shouldn''t we support Washington and her group?" the redhead shouted, seeming ready to turn towards the fighting.


    "Negative. The carrier is too close to escape at this point. Kansas on the other hand needs to get to the repair baths."


    Good. That sounded nice. I was just going to take a nap.

 Chapter 3

    Calling this situation a mess would be a considerable understatement. Sure, nobody had made the connection, besides the immediate family, but he knew that wasn''t going to last. Someone had to have taken pictures of her awakening on that plane, and the moment the first one''s hit the internet, they would be on a timer.


    Damnit, there was a reason Jefferson was assigned to that base! He was already on thin ice, but this? Sure, there would be an investigation, but he had no doubts about its outcome. Nearly getting a shipgirl killed, likely on purpose? No, that would be the last straw, he suspected. It was a mercy that there was a patrol in the area, or otherwise they''d be dealing with something much worse.


    He looked at the clock and frowned. As much as he would like to have the natural-born Connecticut back on her feet, he lacked a repair ship, and even if he did, he doubted she would be clear to leave the repair bath until long after the rest of her family arrived. While the damage she had sustained was far from fatal, it was considerable. Enough so that anyone not familiar with shipgirl injuries would be mortified. For her time, it was clear she was quite a powerful warship. But that was during her time. Now? She was decades behind, and it showed.


    Even more damning right now was her age. While one could enlist at her age, and it was far from unheard of, it required parental consent to do so. Consent that was not given. One could already spin the use of destroyers as using child soldiers, and in fact, many had made such an argument.


    It didn''t take a media guru to see the scandal writing itself. And a coverup would only make things worse. Even the higher-ups saw that much. Though he doubted throwing Jefferson under the bus wasn''t going to be enough to fix the issue. Sure, Kansas was old, but she was still a battleship.


    She couldn''t enlist yet, as it would be another year before she turned eighteen. Provided after this disaster she wanted to sign onto the Navy at all. His orders were to convince her parents, but quite frankly, after that, he doubted it was possible. In their eyes, the navy nearly got their daughter killed, instead of taking the rational path of keeping an untrained clunker off the front lines.


    But a battleship roaming around freely? No, that wasn''t going to work, either. That was just a disaster waiting to happen.


    There was still some part of this that bothered him, though. Kansas had seemed eager, almost too eager to join the fight, based on the report, entering the fray nearly the same moment she had permission. Asking for which was strange enough in and of itself. While uncommon, and often time unfortunate, there were times shipgirls would awaken when confronted with extreme stress. Most commonly, Abyssal''s. In those cases, most would fight without question or permission.


    A personality quirk indicative of the Connecticut class overall? He didn''t know. There were simply none of her sisters to compare that behavior too. Something to keep an eye on if he could.


    Then there were the reports. South Dakota''s were professional as always, going over the lists of observed damages, and her intercepting a bomb dropped on top of the flagging battleship. Washington''s had yet to come in, as she was there only there to visit the first Dakota, as well a recruitment drive.


    As for the Cruisers? Phoenix had ended up being nearly useless, mostly complaining about how she didn''t get to fight, other than fighting off a few planes attempting to finish off Kansas. Denver was a bit better, but the Cleaveland had taken to calling the older battleship ''grandma'' throughout the report. He''d hope she''d learned the first time she tried that stunt.


    Huston and Omaha wouldn''t be much help either. Kansas had slipped out of consciousness before the two had even gotten the chance to see her, let alone interact with her. So, South Dakota, it was, then. And she was probably enjoying her time in the repair bath, too. Still, it was better than nothing.


    "Sir," a head peaked into his office. "The Williams are here to see you now."


    "Thank you. Send them right in, and tell South Dakota to come here as soon as she is able," He nodded his thanks as the family stepped in.


    He was right about one thing. Today wasn''t going to be a good day.


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


    Everything felt warm. Pleasant. Comforting, in a way. Like being wrapped in a warm, liquid blanket.


    Then came pain. My eye''s opened wide, letting out a pitiful groan.


    Where was I? Steam filled the air, rising off the tub I was in towards the overhead ceiling. Splashing and shouting revealed I wasn''t alone. Around the pool I was sitting in, there was a wall? No that wasn''t it.


    I wasn''t in my old clothes, or the dress, either. I could see the faint outline of a swimsuit, one of those old school ones used for gym class.


    Ow, what happened? The last thing I remember was that bomb and, nothing.


    Slowly, I raised my arm out of the water, only to find pain. Water splashed upward as I violently through the limb back underwater, grinding my teeth to keep myself from screaming. Leaning back, I let out a sigh, resting my head slightly against the edge of the pool.


    I was alive. Holy crap, I was alive! I hadn''t been sunk!


    I tried to stand up, forgetting for a moment the bath dulled both the pain of my missing hand and the fact I was missing a foot. The splash was what one would expect from a 17 thousand ton battleship doing a faceplant, but I couldn''t care! I was alive! I could get to see my friends! My family! Oh.


    Oh God. My parents were going to kill me. It didn''t matter if I had up to nearly a foot of armor. That wasn''t going to stop them.


    I sunk back into the water, leaving everything above my mouth exposed. Was it possible to stay here? Like, forever? They couldn''t just barge their way in here, right? I wanted to see them, but, I was frightened. I was sure they were okay. They should have been taken to the bomb shelter, so they would be.


    Did they know I was even here? Or where here was? I wanted to ask questions, but until my foot grew back, I figured I was stuck. For how long, exactly? I mean, I knew the basic functions of repair baths. Sit a wounded shipgirl in a tub and sometime later, they were healed. It was dependent on type too. Destroyers took less time to be repaired than say, capital ships such as battleships and carriers.


    From my sulking position in the water, I looked around slowly, trying to find any indicator of how long I could stay before given the boot. My gaze crawled up a metal pole off to the side, before resting on a giant red number.


    Five hours! I was stuck in here for five more hours!


    I take back everything I just said. I wanted out! There was no way I could handle five hours of just sitting here without something to do. Give me a book or magazine to read! Hell, waterproof my game systems! Anything to save me from this boredom!


    Sleep wasn''t going to be an option either. An hour of jet lag was still an hour of jet lag, and I had no idea how long I was out for. Safe to say I wasn''t going to be falling asleep for a bit.


    A chuckle rang through the air, startlingly close as I whipped my head towards the source, only to see two hands letting go off the wall. There was a wet slap against the floor, followed by the tapping of two small feet, the sound getting further and further away.


    Huh, I wonder what that was about. Probably a destroyer, I had to guess, wondering why part of the bathes had been blocked off. Harmless. Almost cute and childlike. Shy too boot.


    "The grandma is up!" a childlike voice rang throughout the room, cutting through all the chatter.


    Wait? What? Who was she talking about? Grandma? Who the hell was a Grandma! I was seventeen! Heck, if we counted my years of service, I would still be in my teenage years. She better not be referring to me!


    There was a laugh that cut through the air. I couldn''t quite place it, but it sounded familiar. That didn''t sound particularly promising, regardless. I didn''t like that laugh. Just rubbed me the wrong way.


    A knock broke me out of my thoughts. Of course, this would have a door. Silly me.


    "Kansas, are you awake?" a women''s voice came from the other side.


    "It''s Kathrine, and yes, I am," I corrected. Even if people didn''t get my name wrong as much now as they once did, it was still a bit of a sore spot for me. Something told me it was going to become a more frequent occurrence.


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


    "Mr. and Ms. Williams, please, sit down," he gestured towards the two seats in front of his desk. Both parents did so, but their expressions remained stormy.


    "I''ll cut right through the bullshit," the wife of the pair spoke first, just about ready to slam her hands against the table. "Where is our daughter?"


    "Your daughter is currently in the repair baths, ma''am. She will join us once she has made a full recovery."


    "And we should trust you, because?"


    "Ma''am, with all due respect, I have no reason to lie to you. I''m more than willing to arrange for you to be taken to your daughter right this minute, if you so chose," that made them pause for a moment, sparing a glance between them.


    "Fine then. I hope you can explain why our daughter was anywhere near that mess in the first place," it was the father who spoke next.


    "Quite frankly, I don''t know what Jefferson was thinking. However, I doubt he will be in his position for much longer," his words elicited an eye roll from both parents. "I''ll be blunt. His actions nearly got your daughter, a newly awakened shipgirl, killed. I cannot stress how seriously the Navy takes such actions."


    Shipgirls were not something to be trifled with. Even a destroyer, if properly motivated, could cause irreparable harm. The higher-ups? They weren''t stupid, and even without Blood Week''s causalities, shipgirls were by far the best answer to the Abyssal problem.


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    Which meant they had to be cared for, fed, refueled, and most importantly, treated with respect. A well maintained and cared for vessel tended to simply be better than a vessel neglected or otherwise abused. Shipgirls, at the end of the day, were very much the same. Except now they had other ways to show displeasure at their mistreatment.


    Those who couldn''t adapt to that simple fact tended to be slowly brought down the totem pole, little by little. Shipgirls were the best answer, and that gave them, and their thoughts, sway.


    "Fine. Assuming we do trust you," the women''s eyes narrowed. "What exactly is the plan moving forward here? Because if you''re going to try and force our daughter to join up." She let the unspoken threat hang in the air for a moment.


    "I will admit, Kathrine''s case is a bit of an oddity. When it comes to most natural-born shipgirls, one can be reawakened, but at a similar cost to what it would take too summon a shipgirl normally. In most cases, if the shipgirl is underage, it is generally by contract that she will enlist at 18, with parental consent," he paused.


    "Your daughter awoke due to stress, and given how things are going, I''m unlikely to get your consent for her to enlist in the first place. She cannot be forced to join the Navy, no more or less so than any other shipgirl," both parents seemed to let out a sigh of relief.


    "However," both resumed their glaring, which he ignored. "That raises an entirely different set of issues. Kathrine is the reincarnation of a battleship, the USS Kansas. Your daughter now has an armor belt six to eleven inches thick, four twelve-inch guns, and numerous secondaries. She has enough firepower to inflict considerable damage to those around her, intentional or otherwise."


    "And how would you intend to feed her? Most shipgirls have a voracious appetite as is. A capital ship? She will eat you out of house and home. Trivially, at that. I do understand why you don''t trust the Navy after this, but there are things you need to be aware of. Ones that I''m certain you aren''t prepared for."


    "So you''re going to hold our daughter''s wellbeing over our heads, is that it?" it took everything he had to keep a straight face. He understood. They were mad, upset, and angry, with every right to be.


    That wasn''t making them any less frustrating to deal with. Especially when ultimately, he wasn''t responsible for what happened.


    They didn''t notice it, but the door peaked open slightly. Dakota? He''d almost forgotten. He signaled for her to leave. Right now, what she had to say wasn''t what they were going to like. Or even accept, for that matter.


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


    The door swung open with a click, and I was thankful my face was partially submerged. At least with that and the steam, she wouldn''t notice my face turning as red as a beat. She was impossible not to recognize, even without her rigging. She dwarfed me easily, taller than even my aunt, rippling with muscle that unmistakably marked her as a battleship. Her face could be found both on television and on many recruitment posters.


    But I''d recognize her even if I hadn''t seen her there. I mean, how could I not? Even with my memory was fuzzy as it was, I still recognized her. South Dakota.


    She saved my life. I wasn''t going to forget that, even in my previous potentially concussed state. So, yeah, blushing out of embarrassment for being completely loopy was perfectly fine. And nearly getting myself killed.


    Okay, that wasn''t the only reason. But who could blame me! Older shipgirls looked like supermodels built so well that the entire island of Themyscira would go green with envy! Sure, one probably got used to being around them, but I''d been landlocked in Kansas for years. I''ve only seen pictures of shipgirls! I never thought I''d see one in person!


    "You seem to be doing well," the Dakota slipped into the water, causing ripples that lapped at my nose.


    "Depending on how you define well. You could call me stumpy right now," I wanted to gesture towards my arm and foot to drive the point home, but didn''t. "And my parents are probably going to kill me, or ground me until the sun explodes or something."


    "That seems unlikely. They both seemed quite adamant with their discussion with the Admiral," she rubbed her ear. "Or more accurately, shouting at the Admiral."


    Wait, what? They were what! My head came to rest in my hand. Of course, they were shouting at the Admiral.


    "How long?" I muttered through my fingers.


    "A half-hour, at least. I didn''t get to step in, at any rate," she nodded her head. "The Admiral had to subtly wave me out actually." She chuckled a chime-like sound that made me even happier about the shroud of steam.


    "It sounds like they care about you a great deal, you know."


    "I know. It''s just that sometimes, they can be a bit, overbearing, is all. They want what''s best for me and are probably scared out of their minds right now, but it''s just, my future," my leg kicked at the water, sending small ripples across the water''s surface. "I''d like to be able to have a say, is all."


    "Given what has transpired, I can''t blame you if you don''t wish to sign up," I blinked, staring flabbergasted at the younger ship''s words. Excuse me?


    "No, I''d still want too," I huffed, crossing my arms. I wanted to join the Navy for years! Dropping out now? I was a shipgirl! There was no bigger way to make a difference like this! All I needed to do was show I was still able to fight!


    "Besides, I set out myself. I''m willing to take responsibility for my actions," South Dakota let out a sound that could almost be mistaken for some type of hiss.


    "That isn''t entirely correct. I''m not sure how much you know about natural borns, like yourself, but unlike most, you waited to receive orders. Orders that were given, despite the fact you are present, not a member of any military branch. Yes, you could have ignored those orders, but you were likely just looking for an excuse to join the fight, rather than permission, correct?"


    I paused. She wasn''t wrong. I''d wanted to fight. At that moment, nothing was more important than going out there and proving I was capable! Nothing else mattered. I had to prove I had worth, as a vessel, as a ship.


    "Most natural borns that awaken in the heat of the moment are like that. They don''t tend to end up as outmatched as you did," I scowled at the remark. Did not need reminding of how I was bullied by planes, thank you very much!


    "Relax. If the carrier hadn''t been there you would have been fine," she chuckled at my expression. "They''ll get some real anti-air guns on you soon enough."


    That? That made me smile. An upgrade? Even if it was just replacing what I had, it would be nice. What else could they strap on me? I had to wonder.


    "So, what about the guy," I paused, noticing the souring of Dakota''s expression in an instant.


    "He wasn''t a good admiral," this time, it was her turn to scowl, an angry expression that I wasn''t used to seeing on her face. "Don''t worry, you won''t be working under him. Ever." I scooted backward in the tub, unprepared for the vitriol in her voice. They had a history, it would seem, and it wasn''t good.


    "Which means my parents are taking their anger out on the wrong person, aren''t they?" a simple nod from her left my head longing for the comfort of my palm.


    "Our current Admiral is much better," her expression brightened. "He cares about all of us here. I don''t know if you''ll be stationed here, though. You''re from where, exactly?"


    "Kansas," I said, causing her to snort. What''s so funny?


    Oh. I''m the USS Kansas. And I live in Kansas.


    My life is a joke. A massive, oversized joke. Someone''s going to get punched for this! I don''t know who, I don''t know when, but it''s coming!


    "So, Dakota, how''s the new grandparent!" a familiar voice shouted again, nearly taking the door clean off its hinges. My eye twitched. Today? Wasn''t the greatest of days. So no. I wasn''t going to take shit from some whippersnapper who wanted to throw shade.


    "Already," I put my hand together with my stump, ignoring the pain coursing through it. "I''m down to a single leg, but I''m going to give you a three-second head start."


    "What?" the silvery blonde shot me a puzzled look.


    "One."


    She blinked as I rose out of the water, balancing on one foot.


    "Two."


    She was beginning to move out the door.


    "Three."


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


    "Sir, I know you don''t want me to interrupt, but there''s a situation down at the repair baths," one the secretaries popped her head in.


    "What happened?" he asked, taking his mind momentarily off the two parents.


    "Kansas woke up, about a half-hour ago, Sir. After having a conversation with South Dakota, Denver broke into the area, before calling Kansas ''Grandmother''," she said, likewise ignoring the two sending her death glares.


    "And this is a disaster, why?" He resisted the urge to rub his temple in frustration.


    "Because Kansas is currently chasing around Denver on a single leg while shouting that if she catches her, she''s going to give Denver a whappin," she paused for a moment. "Whatever that is supposed to mean."


    Well, that didn''t take long. But regardless, Kansas being up was a good thing.


    "Have South Dakota and any other battleship available help return Kansas to the bathes, and try to make sure she stays put. Tell Denver that once current matters have transpired to meet me in my office," he stood up, the secretary nodding her head.


    "Where exactly do you think you''re going?" At this point, he didn''t care which one spoke.


    "We''re going to see your daughter, of course."

 Chapter 4

    Eventually, I had to leave Denver alone and finish sitting in the repair bath.


    No, it wasn''t because South Dakota was stronger than me and I couldn''t worm my way out of her grasp, of course not. That''s completely ridiculous.


    I let out a sigh as I lowered myself back into the steaming water. How did they get painkillers into this, anyway? Was this a shipgirl thing, or did they add something?


    Another knock sounded at the door, before swinging open. The first thing I noticed was the man in a navy uniform. The second was.


    "Mom! Dad!" I bolted upright, only to lose my balance once again, splashing facefirst into the water. Damnit foot! Regrow already!


    "Sweety!" despite the fact I was in what amounted to a hot tub, mom hopped in, wrapping me in a massive hug. A hug I returned as gingerly and lightly as I could. It''s not that I wasn''t completely and utterly worried sick.


    I was really, really concerned with not breaking her spine.


    "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I quickly sunk my stump of a hand back underwater before she could notice it. Probably best if I didn''t let her see that. She''d probably yell at the man I assumed was the Admiral of this base. Again.


    "Mom, I''m fine," my eyes attempted to twitch into the water where my still missing hand was. "Mostly." She wrapped me in another squeeze, this time nearly around my neck.


    "Are you sure?" I nodded. She was worried sick, after all. I could even see the faint begins of tears in her eyes. I didn''t want to worry her even further.


    "How much longer do you have to be in there for?" Oh, dad. Always trying to react reserved, but I could see the redness in your eyes. Your attempts at appearing angry were superficial sometimes. Regardless, I gestured towards the electronic timer near the bath. Unsurprisingly, it hadn''t changed since my pursuit of Denver.


    He didn''t seem all that assumed by the fact I still had hours to go until I was fit to leave.


    "Dad, I took an armor-piercing bomb to one of my primary turrets, and another to a propeller. Naturally, I''d be here for a bit," I tried to brush off the injuries as much as possible. The naval jargon may have flown my mom by, but I doubted it would work on dad. We used to watch that World War 2 naval documentary together. Back when the History Channel covered history.


    I gently returned my mom''s hug, before trying to get her out of the tub. It was full of water, and I didn''t have the foggiest clue as to if our luggage survived. Her walking around in soggy clothes? We were in Florida, I think. That generally puts the humidity as near unbearable as is.


    "On behalf of the navy, I would like to extend an apology for the events that have transpired," I blinked as the Admiral spoke for the first time. He seemed slightly, younger than I had expected. Okay, professional time. I''d already faceplanted in front of him, so I needed to make this count.


    "Apology accepted, sir," I nodded respectfully. It was probably hard to look professional when in a bathing suit. Or laying down, for that matter, but I had a distinct feeling he didn''t want me moving around anymore. Probably had something to do with South Dakota dragging me back here, now that I think about it.


    I felt my mom shift awkwardly, clearly not agreeing with my statement.


    "Apology not accepted," dad ground out. Please don''t tell me they were still under the impression that he was the one that sent me out. Oh, who am I kidding, they probably were. I understood their anger, but it was completely misplaced!


    "Dad, he wasn''t the one who ordered me out there. Please calm down," I intended to defuse the situation. It would be completely embarrassing for my parents to start shouting at him. Here especially.


    "Where did you hear that? Anyone here could be lying to cover his ass!" dad shot back, and scowled. Damnit, dad. You were getting too wound up right now. Fine. Did you want to get confrontational about this?


    "South Dakota," I began to rise out of the water. "Who, by the way, sounded like she absolutely despised the man." I meet my dad''s eyes with a dead even glare, completely unwavering.


    "There was too much hatred in her voice to be anything else," I cut him off before he could get any more hot air into his system. Both of us were about to continue, preparing to ramp up into a full-blown shouting match, but a gasp from my mom distracted us.


    Oh. Right. I''m standing up now. That means she can see my hand. Crap.


    "Kathrine, as much as I appreciate you coming to my defense, you need to remain in the repair bath for it to be effective," I slunk back down into the water, now somewhat embarrassed with myself. Once there, my mom proceeded to cuddle with my head. I told her I was fine!


    "As I''m certain South Dakota has informed you, we were discussing your future," I didn''t need to look at my parents to know they were sending him murderous glares. "While you aren''t eighteen yet, you''re old enough to at least be part of this discussion."


    Was he? Offering me a position? Right now? Yes! YES! YES! This is what I pushed myself for for five years!


    "So you want me to join the Navy?" I asked, my eyes alight with wonder.


    "No!"


    "Absolutely not!"


    Only to be brought down but the harsh shouts of dejection by my parents.


    "Oh come on!" I shouted. "I''ve wanted to join the Navy since the war with the Abyssal''s started! I''m a shipgirl now! How can you expect me to sit this out?"


    "You nearly died! You know we didn''t entirely approve of this in the first place! What makes you think we''re going to approve of it now?" I''m pretty sure it was my mom who shouted back.


    "I was on my own! That isn''t going to happen again!" I shot back, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the admiral nod, though I doubt either of my parents noticed.


    "Kathrine, you''re also Kansas. How out of date you are is considerable," it was a bit strange to have my father attempt to be the voice of reason. "You don''t even have proper anti-aircraft guns for World War 1, much less now."


    "So? Replace them with newer models," I said, trying to calm down, before pausing. "And probably take out my three-inchers and put five-inch guns in their place, now that I think about it." There. Anti-air and firepower problems are solved.


    "Unfortunately, it''d have to be more than that," it was the Admiral that cut my parents off. "On top of that, you need fire control, a functioning radar and radio systems, a complete internal overhaul for all the electronics and components. And if we''re doing that much, we might as well replace your boilers, engine, and possibly your propeller while we''re at it. Alongside enhancements to your armor overall including a torpedo belt, and even filling in your torpedo tubes."


    I stared at him. I knew I was out of date, that much was obvious. I hadn''t considered radios, which should be an obvious inclusion, but all that? Though I''d have to negotiate about the torpedoes. I kind of liked having them.


    "It would be less of a refit and more of a complete rebuild."


    "That sounds a bit expensive," oh, now you choose to listen to him! Dad wasn''t wrong about that. That sounded considerably expensive. As in, could build a brand new ship expensive.


    "Of course it would be expensive. It would also need to be done regardless, no matter how much some might groan about it," holy cow. He wasn''t joking around about this. An old clunker like me getting this much? It warmed my heart. "The problem is that this base lacks the repair ship to make such drastic modifications, nor do I know if you''ll stay at this base."


    Damn! Still, that was better than nothing. I''d certainly take an eventual upgrade at any rate. Wait? Not stay? Why? I liked it here!


    "Most of the time, if stationed at a base, a natural born''s family either already lives close by, or is willing to move. Seeing as you come from Kansas," there was a pause like he was about to explain further, but we got it. Okay, yeah, that was a bit of a stinker.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "That''s if we agree to enlist her, though. Which we do not," I scowled at her, mustering up the angriest glare I could manage. Oh, come on mom! What''s wrong with you! The admiral let out a sigh.


    "I would recommend you discuss this with your daughter later, both of you, before you come to a final decision," there was a look on his face I didn''t like. He looked tired, or maybe, angry? Frustrated?


    "However, if that is what you wish, there are some things that need to be talked about."


    "Such as?" I raised an eyebrow cautiously. I wasn''t going to like what he had to say, was I?


    "What we have to do with your rigging," yep, I can already tell I wasn''t going to like this in the slightest. "Due to the destructive firepower available to most shipgirls, most in the navy are trained to not summon it on accident. Both to prevent a panic, and also to stop misfires and other accidents from occurring."


    Okay, that sounded reasonable, but I was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.


    "As such, letting a shipgirl go completely unaccounted for is a bad idea. As such, until your daughter is of age and can enlist without your permission, we have to separate her rigging from her. It''s a modified version of scrapping."


    I stopped processing information after that. His lips were moving, but I just didn''t hear anything. The warm air of the bath faded away into frozen chills. Scrapping. A word that cut through my brain like a knife. No. Absolutely not. I was not going through that again. The nightmare that plagued my childhood finally made sense. I had been scrapped, torn apart, ripped to shreds, broken down, and sold for parts. Me and my sisters. It hurt. It had hurt so much.


    "Kathrine. Kathrine!" my mom''s shaking snapped me back. My face was wet. Had I started crying? "What''s wrong?"


    "No. Mom, just no," I was rocking back and forth, legs pressed against my chest. "I''m not going through that again. I refuse. I''d rather do anything but that!" Tears were streaming down my face now, and I couldn''t even care.


    "Katherine! Calm down!" I think my dad was panicking now.


    "NO! It hurt so much! I was ripped and torn and gutted, parts of me being melted off! It''s been haunting my nightmares as long as I remember! I won''t go through it again! You can''t make me!" I was sobbing, body wracked with phantom pains as I continued to rock back and forth.


    "You can''t make me," I quietly cried, ignoring any attempts my parents made to reach me.


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


    "So I assume you acquired permission?"


    "Yes. Sadly, agreement to her to enlist was only given after I nearly caused her to have a panic attack," Jones shook his head. He knew scrapping tended to be a touchy subject when it came to shipgirls. Katherine''s reaction?


    It had blown anything he''d ever seen out of the water. Some shipgirls would have nightmares from time to time about their deaths, but this? From what he heard, Kansas had only recently come out of the repair bathes, staying in for over an hour longer than needed. Probably for food at worst, or giving in to the prodding of her family at best.


    "That is worthy of note at least. With Kansas awakening, it wouldn''t surprise me if we see the rest of her sisters soon. If they share trauma, it would be best to know about it ahead of time," the statement wasn''t wrong. All Connecticut''s were scrapped, so they might just share the same fears. Or worse, take to it violently.


    "I''m uncertain about sending her into battle after that. If she reacts like that again, it could lead to devastating consequences."


    "She has a psychologist presently. While I think this was an isolated incident, if necessary she could clear her."


    "Very well. That point can be conceded for the time being if that is the case. The biggest issue is all the upgrades Kansas and the rest of the Connecticut''s will need."


    "Ultimately, it''s worth it. Sure, they''re old, but we''ve provided upgrades for vessels as old as South Carolina to keep them operational. Today''s incident proved we cannot let defenses in the Atlantic cannot be let down."


    "Agreed. Keeping them in port just uses money, and while we one of the largest shipgirl navies in the world, more hands available would be stupid to just throw aside. Given her guns are also twelve-inch, Kansas should be able to fire the superheavy shells."


    "That''s only a bandaid on the firepower issue. Kansas has half the twelve-inch guns as South Carolina."


    "I might have a solution to that problem," Johns said, pouring over a combination of notes. "Or at the very least, a way to counterbalance it."


    "Go on."


    "Connecticut''s have a considerable secondary complement. Eight eight-inch guns, 12-seven-inch guns, and if we replace all her three inches, twenty five-inch batteries. If these are more modern five inches, then those alone would match South Dakota in terms of volume. We can also upgrade her primary battery to mark seven, or even the eights used on Alaska. Similarly, replacing her current eight-inch guns with the larger fifty-five caliber ones found on most heavy cruisers could also be effective."


    "This does sound more like you''re building a completely new ship. However, I see the point. I''ll send these ideas to repair ships and the engineering team, alongside the rest of your ideas. However, I will give you permission to get started, mostly when it comes to anti-air and those five-inch guns."


    "Thank you, sir. Kansas will appreciate that," Jones nodded in respect.


    "One further question, before this meeting is adjourned. Seeing as this family isn''t local, do you have any knowledge about plans for accommodations?"


    "Yes sir. They currently have two relatives serving in the Navy. Last I heard, they were communicating to see if they''re willing to take Kansas on in the meantime."


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


    "Hello?"


    "Lucas? Is that you?"


    "It better be. I was expecting you to call soon anyway," the younger man let out a dour chuckle.


    "What do you mean, you were expecting us to call?" there was restraint in her voice, trying to keep it just below a shout.


    "Well, for starters, Kathrine''s face has been more or less plastered all over the internet. Someone managed to snag a picture of South Dakota dragging her into port," both parents winced. That was not something they wanted to see, but both knew that once they got back to Kansas, nobody was going to want to talk about anything else.


    "Secondly, I kind of had a feeling that she was a shipgirl."


    "What?" this time, voices weren''t kept below shouting volume. "You didn''t think about telling us sooner!"


    "Spend enough time around shipgirls and you tend to get a feeling for them. Besides, I didn''t know for certain, and what would you two have done with that knowledge, anyway?" both parents shuffled their feet. What exactly would they have done? Keep her from the truth, for starters. She was their daughter. They wanted to keep her safe.


    More than a few things made sense now, in hindsight. The nightmares that sometimes bordered into the realms of night terrors, especially getting worse after Blood Week. Her sudden urge to join the Navy. Put together, it painted quite the clear picture.


    They wanted to protect her, but. Well, that had caused her a lot of pain. Her, their only daughter. They had almost made her confront something beyond terrifying. Something that surpassed anything they could imagine in pain and suffering. It scared them.


    "We were wondering if you could watch over Kathrine when she gets assigned to a base."


    "You do realize that would mean she''s assigned to the San Diego naval base, right? Shipgirl insanity capital of the world, right up there with the likes of Yokosuka?" a pause hung in the air. "Of course she can stay! The kids talked about seeing her again!"

 Chapter 5

    I was just tired. Gone. Drained. Completely and without any amount of energy to care. Sure I ate, the grumbling of my stomach finally driving me out the repair bath and into the mess, but it was pretty much in silence. If someone talked to me, I don''t even know if I responded. Hell, I don''t think anyone sat near me, besides my parents and brother. But I just didn''t care for their company.


    By this point, I was ready to call it a day. Throw in the towel, get some rest, and be ready for tomorrow. Which is exactly what I ended up doing. After a brief escort to the room we were staying in, I just flopped onto the inflatable mattress and closed my eyes.


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


    Something felt warm. Pleasant. Nice.


    There was a voice. It felt like was being wrapped in a hug. Several hugs. Ephemeral and light.


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


    Slowly, I began to stir, stretching out my limbs as sunbeams licked their way over my face, letting out a groan. My stomach let out a harsh rumble. Was it time to get up already? Another grumble sounded off. All right all right. I heard you the first time!


    As my eyes began to open, I took stock of the room around me. Multiple bunks lined the walls, more than enough for all of us. Made me wonder why there was an air mattress in the first place. Still, they were all empty. What time was it exactly?


    I reached for my pockets, only to remember that I hadn''t changed last night, so I was still in the same dress. Great. So not only had I gone to sleep in dirty clothes, arguably, that meant my phone was missing ¡­ too?


    Wait? Did this dress have pockets? A few moments of violent rustling procured a small device out of my pocket. Sweet! I''d have no idea what I''d do if I''d lost this. That was one problem solved, as I flipped to the clock.


    Close to nine. A bit late, sure, but I could live with it. Food was first on the list of things my body wanted, but I didn''t want to go out in unclean clothing. Tapping my foot as I thought, I spotted a small slip of white. I quickly grabbed it off the stand before reading it.


    My eyes speed across the handwritten note. No way. No way. The plane cut in half and they still managed to recover our luggage! I mean, I''d expected everything in there to be a write-off, between the destruction and the gunfire. But I''ll take having clothing. Finally, I can get into a pair of.


    No. Absolutely not. Was this it? Was this SMSB that the internet kept talking about? Because instead of my combinations of jean shorts and t-shirts I''d packed for the warm Florida weather, I was meet by a variable sea of blue dresses.


    If all my clothes had done this I was going to be beyond pissed! I took in a deep breath. Cloths could be replaced, this was no big deal. It took a few moments to replace the dress with a fresh one, but now came the handkerchief. When I''d awaken, it had been already tied.


    This time, I''d have to do it myself. I glared at the piece of cloth for a moment. Part of me wanted to pitch the offending article of clothing into an incinerator. Reminded me far too much of a tie, to be frank, and those could go into an incinerator. The world would be a better place for it.


    Ultimately, I consigned myself, beginning the arduous process of getting it properly tied into a knot and.


    Oh my lord, this is actual witchcraft!


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


    Eggs? Check. Bacon? Check. Pancakes with copious amounts of butter? Check and check. Soon, my stomach shall be satiated. I plopped down in one of the many empty spots in the mess, placed my phone on the table, then began to inhale the mountain of food before me.


    "You okay sis?" a voice interrupted my feeding frenzy, my head turning with a half-eaten pancake still partially hanging out of my mouth.


    "Graff," I muttered, before swallowing the rest of the pancake. "Yes."


    "Are you sure? You kind of seemed out of it last night," my younger brother gave me a look. One of those, you better not be trying to lie right now, sort of looks.


    "I just needed some rest is all. Yesterday was a bit, rough," understatement of the century perhaps, but close enough. If he didn''t have the full story, causing any more panic would be terrible. My phone let out a violent buzz, but I was more willing to return to my meal than worry about it. Texts could wait.


    "That''s good to hear," a familiar voice came from behind the pile of food before me. I popped my head from behind the piece of makeshift cover, grinning as my suspicions were confirmed.


    "South Dakota!" I beamed at the younger but larger battleship as she sat directly across from my position.


    "Kathrine, I''m glad to hear you''re feeling better after last night," she smiled back, though her eyes flickered to my phone as it vibrated once again. I avoided sending the piece of technology a glare. It could, in fact, wait.


    "Much better. Sleep helped," my smile turned a bit melancholic. I''d dreamed last night, hadn''t I? I could only remember something warm and comforting.


    Another vigorous vibration broke me out of my thoughts, and this time I did glare at the device. Before it just began to vibrate more and more, until it was about to fall off the table.


    "Someone seems popular this morning," South Dakota had a slight smirk on her face. Okay yeah, I can''t ignore this.


    "Sorry, this usually doesn''t happen," I stammered, a slight flush to my cheeks. Okay, what was going on, and what was so important that it was about to knock my phone off the table! I began flipping through each text, my confusion growing swiftly.


    "She''s not wrong you know," normally, I would fire back at my brother''s sass, but I was preoccupied. Okay, just what was going on here? Well wishes were nice, especially after yesterday. But why? Sure, the word could have gotten out about the airplane being forced to the ground and that''s what they were worried about. Though that would require one of my friends being able to track the flight, find out what happened, then told everyone else. In that case, fair enough.


    I began to chew lightly on the inside of my lip. That wasn''t as unlikely as I''d care to admit. Between Jacob and Keith, it was possible. I mean, I didn''t think they''d do something as potentially stupid as that, but Kieth could be, impulsive. The weight pressing down on the bottom of my gut was a sign that wasn''t the case.


    Another text came in, and I barely avoided letting mortified strangling noise heat skyrocketing across my face.


    "Are you alright?" Joseph and Dakota asked nearly at once.


    "Yeah, it''s just Keith being Keith," South Dakota raised an eyebrow at my proclamation, while Joseph just nodded his head. Come on, really? Keith, you really need to start thinking before you say things. Because saying ''how does it feel getting carried into port by a bronze amazon before mentioning anything else?


    After sending a flurry of ''I''m fine, thanks for asking'', one being particularly snide aimed at Keith, I finally put down my phone.


    "I don''t mean to pry, but what was that all about?" Dakota''s face was now marred with a frown.


    I sighed, "Just a few friends sending get well soon and best wishes. Nothing major."


    That only made her frown grow, and just as she was about to open her mouth, my phone once again started its merry little dance. This time, she was the one to send a glare, as I rolled my eyes. I blinked. Then I pinched myself. No, this wasn''t still a dream. But this? This was crazy.


    "I just got a text from the governor of Kansas."


    Joseph stared at me, jaw starting to slack open. South Dakota was in a similar state of shock, though appeared to recover faster.


    "Kidd! Remote! Now!" she shouted towards another end of the nearly empty mess, with a few seconds later a black remote tumbling through the air. South Dakota grabbed it mid-spin, plucking it out of the air with ease, before hitting one of the buttons near the top.


    One of the televisions flared to life, taking me slightly by surprise. After a flicker and a stutter, the picture finally cleared, a news anchor speaking.


    "Continuing from our top story yesterday, of the unknown shipgirl brought back into port by South Dakota, Washington, and their escorts," I was more interested in the picture on the screen. You couldn''t make out much of my face, but it was undeniably me. I hadn''t felt good after the bombs and the gunfire, but I didn''t know I looked that bad.


    The picture had been taken at a distance, but I could easily track the numerous cuts and burns from shells, turning most of my arms and visible chest into a scared blackened mass. Which was on display for just about everyone to see as I was carried between the two battleships, each locking my arm in place over their shoulders as I was dragged along. Then there were my two stumpy limbs. My foot was in the state I''d expected, but my hand? It had taken off more than just a part of my hand. A significant portion of my arm was gone like it ever existed at all. Everything below the elbow? Poof, gone.


    "Damn," my brother''s face had turned to the screen, seeming to struggle for words. Me looking like shit would be the most appropriate phrase. Maybe a bit lacking in tact, but accurate.


    "I felt bad, but I didn''t know I looked at awful," I muttered, though everyone around could still pick up what I said perfectly.


    "To be fair, I''ve seen worse cases. But you weren''t in good shape by any stretch of the imagination," Dakota''s face did a weird thing, something between a shrug and a scowl? I couldn''t quite describe it.


    Joseph''s head whipped between the two of us rapidly. "I''m not sure how that''s supposed to get worse than that! Kathrine, I know your pain tolerance can alone be described with the word bullshit after the time you broke your tailbone, but this is insane!"


    "While the identity of this new shipgirl remains unknown at this time, anonymous sources on the internet claim she is Kathrine Williams, from the state of Kansas."


    At that moment, the table nearly shattered under South Dakota''s grip, cracks spiderwebbing across the metal. Joseph, bless his heart, feel completely out of his seat as I barely managed to rescue my phone and unfinished meal. Still not done eating, even if that was likely going to be sufficiently delayed.


    "This should be taken with a grain of salt however as it is only a rumor," whatever else they had to say, I just ignored it. In part because Dakota was now breathing in and out quite heavily. Maybe some type of breathing exercise?


    It was becoming apparent that someone, somewhere, had done something beyond stupid. I''m not sure what laws and protocols were being broken here, but it probably a significant number.


    "Any idea who could have released such information?" South Dakota appeared to be trying her best to keep the anger out of her voice but was failing.


    "Don''t look at me. I don''t have a computer and it sounded like saying anything about this right now was ill-advised," Joseph raised his hands in surrender, as I frowned. Keith was impulsive. Incredibly so. But I doubted he could be that impulsive. And stupid. He would have lead with something like ''how does it feel to be a ship?'' or something dumb like that. Quite frankly, nobody else was that particle combination, either, so. Yeah.


    "I got nothing," I shrugged. Still, it had to be someone. Problems didn''t just spawn out of the aether!


    "Well, it could be," Joseph started, and I could almost see the wicked lightbulb blinking above his head.


    "No. Absolutely not. I refuse to accept that," I crossed my arms, sending him the strongest glare I could muster.


    "But the two of you are so cute together!" he cackled, eyes twinkling.


    "I gave him a complex after I broke his nose!" I fired back.


    "Didn''t he ask to the prom, like what? Three times?" Joseph teased, teased! Me, a battleship! I''d get him for this. "You looked like you were about to kick him in the balls!"


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    "The world would have thanked me. Because yes, as it turns out, people don''t like dating douches, who would have thought," I scowled, crossing my arms.


    "Pardon me, but who exactly are you talking about," South Dakota looked between the two of us.


    "Jeff."


    "Jefferson."


    South Dakota looked between the two of us as if she was expecting more information. I thought, okay, yeah. She wouldn''t know.


    "He''s a bully who never quite grew up and got a bit attached when I broke his nose. He''s an asshole. There''s not much more to tell," I scowled. That wasn''t everything. But quite frankly, saying I''d had to put up with two lifetimes of his crap wouldn''t make sense under normal circumstances.


    "Yeah. From what I heard, it started with dunking your head underwater, then escalated with you breaking his nose," Joseph''s words caused South Dakota to flinch.


    "I can see why you don''t like him," she nodded. "Still that''s not much to go off of, assuming he leaked the information at all. Which might be the case."


    "Yeah. Joseph, we both know he''s not the sharpest tool in the shed. I doubt he''s behind something like this," I frowned, as Joeseph let out a snort of amusement.


    "Hey, I''m the idea guy," he placed his arms behind his head. My eyes couldn''t be rolling harder. What was your grade point average again?


    "Regardless, I should probably inform the Admiral of this, provided he doesn''t already know," South Dakota began to stand up, before pausing. "Oh, and Kathrine?"


    I looked back up at her, about to return to my shoveling of food into my gullet. "Yes?"


    "The Admiral would like to see you once you''ve finished with breakfast."


    "Yes Ma''am," I nodded, sending her a grin. I''d head that way the moment I finished. Maybe with a stop to clean up my face. Probably to clean up my face. I waited for her to exit the mess before I began stuffing food back into my mouth. Hey, it was slightly cooler now, but bacon was still bacon. And bacon was good.


    "Are you seriously going to eat all of that?"


    "I''mf hngy! Dn jdg me!"


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


    There were simply moments in life where one just wanted to put their heads through a wall. Certainly not the healthiest of impulses, to be sure. He thought he''d managed to at least stop the fan from being bogged down with all sorts of waste. But no. This was beginning to look like one of those situations. The one where you see the light at the end of the tunnel and expect sunlight. Instead, it''s a train and it''s heading right for you.


    Well, the cat was out of the bag now, and someone else had already found it. Sure, most news networks acted like this wasn''t confirmed information, but with so many winks and nudges, it didn''t matter. Quite frankly, he had no idea what would happen for releasing that information. Releasing information like that during wartime. Sure, in Kansas there likely weren''t issue, but there had been attacks made by deranged individuals in the past.


    Sure, a new shipgirl joining the fray was good for PR, under normal circumstances. However, Kathrine was introduced to the world looking like she just lost a fight. On top of being underage. She never should have been near that fight at all.


    "Admiral Kenneth," South Dakota interrupted his thoughts, resulting in him turning around to face her. She paused for a moment. "I''m going to assume you''ve heard the news?"


    "Yes. I''m safe to guess that Kathrine is presently aware of this development?" South Dakota nodded. Okay, that wasn''t awful. Maybe. Public relations was not his specialty by any means. "And how is she doing this morning?"


    "She''s acting a lot better," South Dakota nodded, as he let out a sigh of relief. "I made sure to deliver your message as well, Sir. Katherine should be here once she is done eating."


    "That''s good to hear," after last night, that was good news indeed. On both fronts. Food was necessary for a growing battleship, after all.


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


    I had taken a momentary detour to brush my teeth. There was no sense in showing the Admiral my pancake stained teeth. Plus, I hadn''t done it last night, either. No sense in showering him in my bad breath, either. But once I finished, I quickly made my way to the office.


    "You must be Kathrine," there was a lady behind one of the desks.


    "Yes? I blinked, being taken aback slightly. I didn''t know he had a divided office like this.


    "You can go right in. Admiral Kenneth has been expecting you."


    Oh, so that was his name.


    "Thank you, ma''am," I nodded, before stepping towards the massive doors. They looked pretty heavy. I gripped the knob, swinging it open. There were a groan and a pop as the door swung open.


    Now I''m holding the door. I''m holding the oh.


    "I''m so sorry I''m so sorry I''m so sorry," my words slurred together into a single sentence. What do I do? How do I fix this?


    "Kathrine, it''s quite fine. It''s designed to do that. Just leave it against the frame for the time being."


    Oh. I blushed, looking down at my feet. This was a lot worse than the time I tour off one of the cabinet doors at home during my first life. Designed that way or not.


    "Please, take a seat," he gestured towards the empty chair between both my parents, who were now staring at me, slack-jawed.


    "Yes sir," I moved into the middle chair, one that appeared to have a metal frame.


    "You don''t need to call me sir," he chuckled. "You aren''t quite enlisted yet." I blinked. This wasn''t what I had expected.


    "Yes, Admiral," I responded, with a slight grin of my own. He raised an eyebrow, almost a sort of well played. A distinctive short reached my ears a moment later.


    "Before we continue," Admiral Kenneth''s expression went from more upbeat to something sour. "Kathrine, I would like to extend my humblest apologies for what I said last night. It is something I know some shipgirls have a hard time with, and I wasn''t thinking." A chill ran down my spine. The memories had become a lot more vivid, but I shoved them aside. That was the past. It wasn''t going to happen again.


    "Apology accepted, Admiral, I just needed a good night''s rest is all," I met his gaze as he spent a moment, studying my expression, before nodding.


    "Very well. As I was telling your parents, one of the things a shipgirl must contend with is their strength," his none too subtle gesture to the door brings out another flush of heat. "A shipgirl can do anything a ship is capable of, while in a human body. What a ship could tow, a shipgirl can move the same amount of weight, alongside supporting their own."


    "Wait. Does that mean our daughter?" my dad raised an eyebrow.


    "Likely currently weights around eighteen thousand tons?"


    The statement hung in the air. Alright. That sounded like pure magical crap right there. But strangely, it made sense? I mean, I was a ship now. But that would raise some serious complications when it came to travel. I don''t think many planes, on top of their regular load, could carry that much additional weight.


    "Then how is that chair supporting her?" on that note, excellent question mom. Why was this chair able to hold all that weight?


    "One of the repair ships designed it to support new shipgirl''s who can''t control their displacement without going through hundreds of chairs a week. It doesn''t work for some of the larger battleships, but," yeah yeah, I get it. Puny pre-dreadnaught over here. Oh well. I''ll take being able to sit down.


    "So, I''m able to control my weight?" I paused, turning my head slightly.


    "It''s more akin to flipping between human and ship than anything one can manipulate," I nodded, rubbing my hand under my chin, stroking a non-existent beard. Okay, again, that made sense. Redeploying shipgirls would become a monstrous hassle, otherwise. There was still the Panama canal, but why spend the effort when you can just put someone on a plane?


    "We''ll be working on that in the coming days. You are here on vacation after all, and even if you can''t be there for all of it, you deserve some time off. Before you''re officially enlisted, of course."


    I nodded my head in thanks. Sure, I was going to need new clothes, because walking around in my shipgirl clothes off duty would feel a bit weird.


    "Second is that other Admirals have approved work to start on a retrofit design," his words were music to my ears, a grin twitching its way to life across my face. A weight pressed against my back, my father, seemingly quite pleased. "However, a proper design will take time, and even if one were to be rapidly developed, I lack the resources and technicians to perform such an operation at this base."


    That''s the problem? I hadn''t expected an immediate miracle on that front. Designing a retrofit for a ship that never had a major one, let alone one that would allow me to fight? It would take time, and I was fine with that.


    "On that front, I do have some good news. It might not be much, but I currently have permission to replace some of your armaments."


    "Really?" I blinked, sounding quite a bit too good to be true. Wouldn''t that make more sense to include as part of the retrofit? I mean, I wouldn''t say no to having guns that worked against planes, but still.


    "Quite. With your parent''s permission, we can get started immediately."


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


    Perfectly honest, there were quite a few things that never quite made sense to me. Repair ships could upgrade and apply retrofits to shipgirls, that made sense. However, given the size of each fleet, there clearly weren''t enough repair ships to go around. Even if the United States had summoned every single one, a doubtful prospect, that would put our Navy at around twenty or so, depending on how one counted.


    With everyone else being worse off. Britain had maybe a dozen, maximum. Even Japan, with their single Akashi, beat out several other navy''s, including Germany. Which meant someone, somewhere, had to figure out a way to perform such critical work, without relying on a repair ship.


    Naturally, this was a fiercely debated topic on the internet, to nobody''s surprise. I''d heard all sorts of insane conspiracies, from kidnapping Abyssal equivalents, holding them hostage and forcing them to do the work, which sounded just as stupid as it was, to all the way to somehow turning fairies into humans.


    While a bit more hush hush than one might expect, the answer was straightforward, simple, and boring. Shipgirl magic, and precision tools. That''s it. It was almost disappointing after all that hype. But I couldn''t complain too much.


    I winced slightly. Okay, maybe I could complain a little. Popping some pain medicine before they started work sounded like a good idea. And it was. But it either hadn''t kicked in yet or wasn''t doing its job. Given how it had been an hour, it was probably the latter of the two.


    "And there we go," one of the engineers said, placing the last of the new five inch-guns into its proper place, anchoring itself to my hull. A few heys singled out from my crew, staring at the new weapons with stars in their eyes.


    Hey! No! I see you there! Read the manual before messing around with the bofor, mister! Don''t try pointing it around!


    I chuckled. Despite my childing them, I could understand my crew''s excitement. Sure, most of the bofors were doubles, rather than quads, but the five-inch guns? Dual purpose, good for ship to ship combat and driving away air attacks. Now I wasn''t a complete sitting duck to any carrier with a brain cell and a pulse.


    "You seem quite pleased, Kathrine," there was a slight curve to Admiral Kenneth''s mouth. Not quite a grin.


    "Quite, Admiral," I returned, beaming. My feet shifted below me. It was a familiar feeling. Like before, on the beach. I wanted to fight. Take these new guns out and see what they could do! Let''s go!


    "Very well. I think a systems test is in order. And I can think of the perfect place to practice."

 Chapter 6

    I blinked once. I blinked twice. This made much more sense than practicing with live rounds or even blanks, but still. Really? This worked?


    I continued to stare, completely flabbergasted at my crew, as they loaded the paintball rounds into my hull. There were even paint load torpedos I could stock up on, even though I was told not to. No point practicing with them given how my torpedo tubes were going to be plugged up. A shame. I''d scored a kill with those things, against all odds. As I found out later, they''d been damaged when I jumped out of the plane, too, meaning I actually could do more to aim them normally.


    "How exactly, do these paintball rounds handle being fired out of a canon?" I wondered around, eyes turning toward Admiral Kenneth. He honest to goodness shrugged in response. So, SMSB strikes again. It already pilfered the clothes I brought. And it better not have taken what I had at home too. The thought of losing all my shirts and pants? Parish it.


    And if it had? Well, Johnson was a lunatic of the highest order, but he was right about life and what one should do with lemons. But that was, well, a problem to be solved in the future, if it ever became a problem at all.


    "Hey, hey hey hey," one of my fairies, my captain started speaking. They''d loaded up on everything, and of course, prepared the new dummy rounds. I nodded, doing my best to convey my satisfaction, though I didn''t respond with words. I wasn''t exactly sure how I felt talking to them yet, let alone in front of other people.


    Of course, I wasn''t sure how I felt about them living inside me, either. Well, my feelings, one way or another, probably didn''t matter. We were going to be together, after all, so being on good terms with my crew was, well, the natural thing.


    "I''m completely loaded, sir," I saluted, probably incorrectly, if my father''s distant snort was anything to go by.


    "Very well," Admiral Kenneth nodded. "I do believe the training course would be next."


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


    The smell of salt filled my nose, as did the lapping of the waves in my ears. This was nice, floating in the water, relaxing.


    Not being shot at or have bombs dropped on me. An absolute pleasant change of pace, though one I probably shouldn''t get all that accustom to.


    There was just one more preparation before I got to try out the firing range. Even if I couldn''t practice with my new Bofors, my crew was still chomping at the bit to try the new five-inch guns.


    "Sorry. We had to make sure this was waterproof," Admiral Kenneth handed me a headset, like one of those used by dispatchers. Because, yeah, morse code wasn''t exactly the swiftest form of communication used these days. And sadly, a radio was probably only going to be coming along during the retrofit, alongside fire control and radar. Alongside the rest of the electrical systems. Whenever I was going to be getting those.


    Which meant we were going to be eyeballing this. Oh well. My crew had no experience with more advanced technology anyway. And getting everyone retrained would likely be a long term endeavor. At least they could get some practice with the new five-inch batteries.


    I headed out a little way. Not too far, but just far enough where I couldn''t mistake whether or not Admiral Kenneth''s voice come coming from the headset.


    "Is everything functional, Katherine?" I heard him through the headset.


    "I hear you loud and clear, sir," I responded, ignoring a slight twinge at the back of my mind. It''s probably nothing.


    "Good. See those targets?"


    "Yes sir," I nodded, looking towards the mass of nets and targets. Some were simple floating bullseye, bobbing up and down in the water. However, more than a few of them were cut-outs of various Abyssal''s. I''m pretty sure most of them weren''t to scale, but regardless, that was a bit neet. Definitely would prefer hitting those over the simple bullseye.


    "You can start running the course at your discretion."


    "Yes sir," I paused a moment, getting all green lights across the board, making sure the paintball rounds were loaded, before making my way towards the start. Then my casement and five-inch guns cracked to life, releasing a deluge of shells in a rippling wave. Most of my shots missed, water erupting around the target like geysers, but a few hit home, covering it in variable splotches of paint.


    A target further away found itself under assault from my larger batteries, the twelve and eight-inch guns releasing their salvo''s. Many more geysers followed though I could still make out a massive splattering of paint towards the base.


    On my left, my crew was reporting another target, point-blank range. I turned my head, just to make sure I wouldn''t miss, before firing, unleashing a full blast of everything I hadn''t already fired. Five, seven, and eight-inch guns fired in unison, a devastating near full broadside. Even then, I had to wince. A few shots went wide even at such proximity.


    All right, so what''s my next target? I scanned the area, trying to find another victim, only to notice something. Rope, ahead! Turn now!


    I felt my rudder shift, beginning to pull into a turn, but it was far too late for that. Even at my nearly glacial pace, I still slammed into the numerous nets that served as the boundaries of the training course. For a moment or two, I struggled, trying to use my shipgirl strength to at least spare myself from being manually freed, but fortune was not on my side.


    Well. This stunk.


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


    For the second time in just as many days, it was South Dakota that came to my rescue. Of course, I was thankful it was under much less dangerous circumstances. Even if this was infinitely more embarrassing.


    "And up you go," she pulled me up to my feet with nearly a bit too much force, though I managed to keep my balance. Barely.


    "Thank you," I smiled, silently praying to somebody that I wasn''t blushing like an idiot with a crush. "Though we must stop meeting like this." South Dakota paused, before letting a chuckle.


    "Of course. I won''t be able to keep saving you when you get transferred after all," I had to turn part of my face away because if I hadn''t been blushing before, I certainly was now. "Though I don''t think I''ve seen someone get caught in the net before."


    "It jumped out at me," it was an excuse, and a poor one at that. It hadn''t worked in my previous life, and it probably wasn''t going to work now.


    "More like you were too focused on your guns," South Dakota paused for a moment. "Though, seeing as you don''t have any fire control systems."


    She clicked her tongue, almost in thought. Did fire control make firing guns that much more simple? Or maybe it was more akin to just being more efficient? Micromanaging and all that?


    "Okay, we should go a lap or two," wait, what? How did she arrive at that conclusion? I mean, sure, I might be multitasking a bit too much, but I failed to see how that would solve the problem. But it wouldn''t hurt to try either.


    "I''ll take point. And don''t worry. I won''t go top speed, either. I''ll make sure you can keep up," South Dakota teased, as a felt a bit of heat rise off my face. I don''t know if it was because I was just about as fast as a turtle stapled to a tree, but I should be able to keep up here.


    Even if the younger battleship nearly had ten knots on me at the best of times. It took but a moment for me to fall into position behind her, however, before resuming firing. I was jealous watching her bean the farthest targets with unerring accuracy, while I could maybe peg it with a shot per salvo from my main batteries.


    If that. Seriously, I couldn''t even hit the broadside of the barn like this. And god, turning properly in such a confined area was awful! I barely made the turn, even with cutting my speed to about half.


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Holding up okay?" Dakota turned her head towards me, as her secondaries slathered a target in paint. I felt my crew try to pick up the pace to match her own salvo''s, though they were as used to the new equipment as I was to being a ship.


    "I feel slower than a turtle stapled to a tree," my mouth twitched downward, nearly forming a scowl. At least my casements were proving accurate, but that was simply due to them lacking range. They couldn''t hit the farther targets. No matter how much I''d like to try. Something told me that might become a problem.


    "That''s certainly an interesting phrase," she chuckled, my lips twitching up slightly, as I fired my main guns again, this time pegging my target with two shots.


    Damn. World of Warships made this seem way easier than it actually was. Of course, that was probably the entire point.


    "Not bad," South Dakota nodded. "You''re improving." Part of me grinned at the bit of praise, though another claimed it was simply because I''d gotten closer. I certainly hoped it was the former, but improving that quickly? Probably either down to closing distance or luck.


    I fired another salvo, hitting another two shots. Then again, maybe not.


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


    "Sorry, but my head is killing me right now," I whined, rubbing my temples as if felt like the inside of my brain was on fire.


    Thankfully, Admiral Kenneth was merciful, relieving me after my second run through the course, this time by myself, saying that he would look into it. Though I suspected he already figured out the answer.


    Probably a union of me being recently awakened, and the fact I had to pull out a mental protractor every time I wanted to fire my guns. The former was probably a common issue, but the latter? Based on what I knew, I was the oldest reincarnated to date. Combined with the fact if I remained in my original body I''d be probably most of the way through my thirties, if not outright pushing into my forties.


    Wow. That''s a freaking scary thought. If I factored in the year I''d spent in service as Kansas? I''d be pushing into the fifties and sixties.


    I shook my head, throwing off the train of thought. Yeah, no. I already felt old enough some days. No need to make myself feel positively ancient.


    Still, I would give an arm and a leg for pain medicine right now. Ironic, given yesterday, but I''d already popped in some earlier in the day to no avail, so I was dealing with it the old fashion way.


    Or as it''s otherwise called, being too stubborn for my own good. It was either that or stick my head into a repair bath to see if that did anything, but that just sounded dumb. Plus, there were still signals making their way through my inflamed frontal cortex. Chief among them pangs from my stomach. I wanted to eat an entire cow right now, and nobody was going to stop me.


    "You sure seem grumbly today," I shot Joseph a dirty look. Something was up. His posture was off. No, off wasn''t exactly the wrong term.


    Smug. My brother looked smug. Not exactly the most uncommon expression on him some days.


    "Of course I''m hungry. I went without lunch," I shrugged, though made sure to remain on guard. He was aware of something I was not. Either that or he''d found something embarrassing. Regardless, I wasn''t taking chances. "I''m so hungry I could eat a horse."


    "For once, I believe you. You look positively famished now, and that''s after you nearly eat your weight at breakfast," I raised an eyebrow. Sure, I''d eaten quite a fair bit of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, but my weight? Joseph had to be exaggerating. Even if shipgirls tended to eat a lot, eating more than a hundred pounds of food in a single sitting?


    That didn''t seem right. That level of voracious appetite couldn''t be natural.


    "Though I don''t think you''ll have to worry about it," Joseph paused for a moment as I pushed open the door to the mess hall. I should have paused with him. Maybe it would have saved me. Perhaps not.


    "Surprise!" I blinked, yes, partly because I was just that. Surprised. It looked as if every shipgirl on the base was there, with the tables set up as all you can eat buffets. Was this a party? For me?


    "Now, go have fun," it was a gentle shove, which shouldn''t have been anywhere near enough to move me anymore, let alone make me stumble forward through the door.


    Help. Help. Help.


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


    Admiral Kenneth smiled, despite having his face buried in paperwork. It was good to know Kathrine was likely enjoying herself right now. Most of the shipgirls had planned to have the welcome party yesterday, but due to his actions, it had been postponed.


    Of course, that had just given them more time to prepare. Though he had to make sure there was no alcohol. Kathrine, was, legally, still too young to drink. Even being a shipgirl wouldn''t change that.


    And something told him alcohol was going to be a future problem. Maybe not with Kathrine, but certainly with her sisters. Ultimately, at this point, it was only a matter of time before the other Connecticut class battleships were summoned. And likely their summoning would be the harbinger for the arrival of other pre-Dreadnaughts. He didn''t know for sure, but he wouldn''t be betting against himself.


    That was part of the reason he was already putting Kathrine through training. He needed to have at least some idea of her capacities, and thus, the capacity of other pre-Dreadnaughts.


    Knowledge that he hoped would help keep them safe, as their operational range, one way or another, would likely be drastically different from larger and more modern battleships. Frankly, attempting to use them in such a role would be wasteful, if not outright dangerous.


    Still, Kathrine had done respectably. Getting caught in the net aside, she was acclimating well.


    That wasn''t to say there weren''t problems. As much as it pained him to admit it, the casements were one of them. While flooding was likely far less likely to be as much of an issue it''d historically been, their range was, well, lacking. He''d gone back and checked the targets. Kathrine had been adamant about concentrating her larger batteries on the farthest targets. Excluding her newer armaments and casements.


    The former was explainable. The later? Likewise explainable, but for all the wrong reasons. Of course, he should have expected such. Casement gun emplacements had been phased out of ship design, and for good reason. Part of him had hoped that the oddities of shipgirls would overcome this flaw. But he supposed casements would simply have too many flaws, both in practice and design.


    Still, such information would prove more than useful for those in the lab.


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


    Thankfully, the party had died down shortly after midnight, allowing much of the base to get a decent night''s rest. Eventually, however, the base did stir back to life, staying clear of the parties'' aftermath to the best of their ability.


    "This explains her sleeping habits when she was little," she watched her daughter snoring slightly, head resting in the crook of South Dakota''s elbow. The rest of her body lay against the side of the larger battleship. Or at least, that''s what she assumed her daughter''s body was. It was hard to tell, seeing as several smaller girls were using two as pillows and beds. Including one with long blue hair gently slumbering away on her daughter''s stomach.


    Her husband nodded, likewise looking at the sleeping pile of ships with an amused expression on his face, before pulling out his phone.


    Yes. There would hardly be a better opportunity to take embarrassing pictures.

 Chapter 7

    *Day 4*


    Was it me, or did my dress feel tighter today? No, it wasn''t my dress. It was something else. Honestly, it was probably my imagination. After all, it didn''t look like there was any change between today''s dress and the previous one.


    Either way, I needed to hurry. If I could get my displacement under control by tonight, I would finally be able to sleep in a bed! A sweet, sweet bed!


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


    *Day 5*


    Okay, I was hallucinating. Either my brother''s posture had taken a hit, or someone had slipped something into my food. Sitting down, I was about at his eye level, which had not been the case for quite some time. Puberty had hit him hard, and even with my considerable head start, I know I wasn''t able to keep up. Certainly didn''t do it the first time around.


    He turned to face me, noticing my stare with a slight smile, looking down on me like usual. So it was my imagination after all. Should have known.


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


    *Day 6*


    Damn you! Budge! This wasn''t that hard! I''ve been able to get this stupid thing to latch the past few days! What''s with all the trouble now?


    Finally, with agonizing slowness, with a soft click, it fell into place.


    Oh, thank goodness. That had taken far longer than it had any right too. The tightness around my chest was even more notable than it had been over the past two days. So it wasn''t just my imagination running haywire. Still, this should be enough to get through the day.


    No sooner than the thought found its way through my mind, there was a loud pop, as the piece of cloth shot across the room, landing in the ever-growing pile.


    Well, that''s great. Just great. Okay, that''s what, the fourth, fifth, one? Okay fine, the next one will be the charm.


    And, well. That''s a considerably larger issue. It seems that was the last one I packed. Okay, realistically speaking, I could just try and wear one of the dirty ones, but it was past time to put a pause on the insanity.


    "Mom! I think I''m going to need this day off!" I said, with the door creaking open slightly. She looked between the pile of mechanically defective clothes laying in a pile at the other end of the room, and me.


    "I can see why," she said bluntly, thankfully grasping the gravity of the situation at hand. "Do you want me to ask South Dakota has any clothes for you to borrow?"


    My face began to shift towards a vibrant shade of pink. You get a picture of me using her muscular arms as a pillow one time, ONE TIME, and you''re going to use it to tease me the ends of the earth! I hope this isn''t some form of perverse revenge if Grandma and Grandpa teased you about dating dad! Because that is not okay! At all!


    "Yes," I muttered. What? Most of the other ships were cruisers or destroyers, so their clothes certainly wouldn''t fit. Even if South Dakota''s clothes wouldn''t be a snug fit either, I''d take something baggy over something too tight.


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


    "So, Kathrine has finally noticed her growth spurt?" Admiral Keeneth paused. It was inevitable, he supposed. But to take nearly a week was a bit surprising. Of course, she was also running herself ragged, so her distraction was understandable.


    "Yes sir. I''m assuming you have plans for this?" that he very much did. Kathrine was not the oldest natural-born discovered. Oldest as a ship, yes, but far from the oldest human.


    He knew what to expect, to an extent. Being a Pre-Dreadnaught might change a few things, but overall, a Pre-Dreadnaught was still a battleship. Which meant the result would likely be akin to that of a battleship. Which in this case, meant growth. Nearly six inches in just as few days, if his estimates were correct.


    Still, the lateness of this notice had benefits. Without a doubt, the largest being her parents wouldn''t have to be buying two separate sets of clothes. They would be reimbursed anyway, and Kathrine didn''t appear to be the type to be overly extravagant or excessive in the first place.


    "Has South Dakota requested permission to join her?" Admiral Kenneth frowned slightly. Such a request from South Dakota was likely, though he was reluctant to grant it. Kathrine''s growth spurt would certainly help keep her anonymity, alongside the other changes from becoming a shipgirl. Placing her alongside such a famous, especially locally, shipgirl could easily sabotage it.


    Of course, sending her out all alone with only her parents was something he couldn''t do for numerous reasons. Kathrine was still a hot button topic right now given the events surrounding her awakening. It wouldn''t surprise him if people were frothing at the mouth to interview her.


    Something Kathrine was by no means ready for. Not through any fault of her own, far from it. Some people tried to treat shipgirls like celebrities, rather than simple human beings serving their country. Anyone from big names like Enterprise, Yamato, or Warspite to even smaller and lesser-known vessels such as Fletcher and her many sisters.


    Natural borns tended to be little darlings especially. Kathrine even more so, given how the whole situation around her smelled of scandal. Of course, that probably wasn''t the only issue. Even if significant headway had been made on that front since the start of the war, and even with there being no local chapters he was aware of, it wouldn''t surprise him if they thought a natural-born Pre-Dreadnaught was an easier target.


    They thought the same about Porter. As it turned out, a Destroyer with several five-inch guns was a far more formidable combatant than a crazed lunatic with a knife. Kathrine, who could now look her nearly six-foot brother in the eye and strong enough to be able to turn most assaults into pretzels was far more intimidating.


    Which, while potentially amusing and given those particular individuals, deserved, would still be problematic, for numerous reasons.


    "She said she would be awaiting your orders, sir," which meant she wanted to go but expected him to decline. He expected her to see that writing on the wall, as bitter as it may be.


    Of course, there was a possibility that South Dakota could keep an eye on Kathrine while keeping attention off Kathrine herself. Possible. After all, most people would think Kathrine was simply a newly summoned shipgirl. Not an inherently correct assumption, but close enough to the truth. But that would still draw a fair bit of attention.


    No. Ultimately, he wasn''t going to be able to permit that. As much as he thought South Dakota and Kathrine got along quite well, the younger grabbed too much attention for such to be worth risking on such a task. Which was a shame, as he knew South Dakota would have loved the excuse to baby the older battleship.


    Still, who else did he have? Denver and Kathrine were on terms where he trusted neither enough to be subtle. They''d throw too many jabs at each other for any attempt at that. Probably didn''t help that as a Cleaveland she was still fairly recognizable, and Denver did have a reputation. Phoenix was also out. She generally didn''t head into town, so that wasn''t the issue.


    Rather, she was far more obsessed with getting into fights than much else. A flaw she mercifully recognized. Which made Phoenix somehow even more likely to cause an incident.


    But with the rest of his cruisers out on varying patrol runs, that left him with only destroyers. Which was far from a bad thing. As childlike as some could be, they mostly retained the same military discipline they had as ships. Still, he''d prefer something a bit more inconspicuous than a destroyer screen.


    Maybe there was another option he hadn''t considered? Admiral Kenneth found his eyes flipping to a report. This was.


    Oh. This was perfectly timed, and the destroyer screen sounded like a marvelous idea. Maybe find a way to get them to see a movie. Both Kathrine and the destroyers deserved some type of break.


    Hopefully, that would give them enough time to get South Carolina to calm down.


    As unlikely as it would be.


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


    So this is what it felt like to be protected by a destroyer swarm. Okay, maybe a swarm was overselling three Fletcher class destroyers. It was strange seeing them in civilian clothes. Even more so how we weren''t getting any weird looks. How was nobody recognizing the destroyers exactly?


    Though, given both my and my mother''s hair colors, the smaller girls with their mixture of red and brown hair likely passed off as sisters. Like a cute little family.


    There was a little ting that went through my heart. Internally, family was certainly pushing it hard, but to an untrained observer? The destroyers were certainly playing it up, looking through shop windows with stars in their eyes. To the unobservant, we probably passed off as a family of tourists.


    Which, to be fair, was partially true. Even with my family''s frequent trips to Disney before Abyssal''s showed up, this was not part of the state I''d been in. Even if we had though, I likely wouldn''t recognize it. Sure, there was plenty of foot traffic, but at the same time, there was a feeling of emptiness.


    Numerous shops looked run down, ratty, abandoned completely. What storefronts remained looked pleasant, sure, but the contrast was clear. Even with the Abyssal''s in the Atlantic making the first move on the state in years, nobody seemed too alarmed. Yeah, sure, it was further down the coast, but still. Credit where it is due, but the people who remained on the coasts were quite brave.


    Sure, many had fled into the countries interior, but many had also stayed on the coast once girls began to turn the tide. Given the volume of cities on the coastline the United States had? Not just major ports, but smaller cities and even towns? Numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands. Each holding tens if not hundreds of thousands of souls.


    Even if several smaller towns had been wiped off the map.


    Still, that didn''t mean the area was untouched. Honestly, excluding the start of the war, America''s interior had remained mostly unassaulted by Abyssal forces. We weren''t exactly unaffected by the war. People had come in from the coasts, hoping to start anew, followed by companies looking for safer places to research and develop new technologies to help fight in the conflict. World War Two style gardens had made a resurgence, as did resource drives and while rationing was not as bad as Japan or Britain, it still existed.


    But the physical signs? The anti-air guns at the upper floors of tall buildings? Abandoned storefronts? Those weren''t there. They simply weren''t. It was like being in a completely different world. I mean, I knew they existed. I''d seen the pictures. But there was a difference between seeing a picture, and seeing the actual thing.


    Though I was going to have to get used to it. San Diego probably had dozens, if not hundreds of scenes just like this.


    "We don''t have those back at home," mom elbowed me gently, head pointing towards the emplacement I''d noticed.


    "No, we most certainly don''t."


    "Really? You don''t?" the one I recognized from a few days ago, Kidd, asked, turning her head towards us.


    "Kansas City might have had some early on," I frowned, looking towards mom as she shook her head, red curls swinging. "Or not."


    "Why not?"


    Good to know destroyers were just as good at asking hard questions like children.


    "Well, they could probably go to better use elsewhere," which was true. A gun emplacement left sitting that far inland was one that wasn''t shooting at Abyssals. Or in other words, effectively useless. Plus, given that the only reason Abyssal bombers made it that far was a combination of their attempted push up the Mississippi and willingness to crash and burn. They were only even to get that far in the first place due to that push. So why waste the resources that could be going elsewhere.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Plus, the interior is pretty safe anyway," I concluded. The hum Kidd responded with was not what I''d been expecting. Was she accepting the reasoning? Or was she disagreeing and knew something I didn''t.


    The rest of our walk was dominated by a gentle, but somewhat uneasy silence.


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


    Yes! Finally! Clothes that weren''t dresses! I immediately began booking it towards the men''s section. Yes, men''s section. Firstly, have you ever tried women''s pants? Most shops didn''t seem to carry anything with actual pockets! Which, to be frank, was dumb as hell!


    Secondly? I was like six-foot now, or close enough to it. Unless they carried shipgirl sized pants on the regular, the odds of me finding a fitting pair wouldn''t be great.


    But yeah, mostly because I wanted pants with pockets.


    "Ka-Kathrine," I turned, a handful of pairs of shorts already hanging from my arms, prep for trial and error. Was it Strong? I looked down, the tuft of red hair confirming it was Strong. They were remembering to call me by my name, which was nice. Even if they were stumbling.


    "I''d think you''d look nice in this," holding up an article of clothing for inspection. The snicker I heard from my mother was probably not the best of signs. But ignoring Strong would be rude, so I decided to humor the two.


    And I already regret my choices in life.


    Sure, it wasn''t exactly a short skirt. I''d seen shipgirls wearing shorter. Iowa, mostly. Seriously, what was up with that microskirt?


    But I wouldn''t wear anything like that. I could wear dresses, or skirts if I needed to or even wanted to. If I was going to, it would be longer. Certainly longer than this red abomination.


    "Sorry, but that''s not in my taste," I frowned, trying to let down the destroyer gently. However, I paused, noticing the twitch in Strong''s month. She was smirking. I shuddered. I knew what was coming. This was a trap. An expertly laid trap of mice and men. Best ruse since Death Star two. How was mom able to set this up so quickly? Truly, insidious powers were at work with her today.


    "But you''d look so nice in it," I scowled at my mother, making my displeasure as apparent as I could. Against my mom, it probably still had all the effectiveness of a kitten trying to stare down a lion.


    "Look, at least try it on," she gingerly took the skirt from Strong''s hands, the destroyer barely bothering to hold back her snickers at this point, before placing it atop my pile of shorts. "Please?"


    Oh, I''d make sure I''d get Strong back for this one. Somehow. But for the time being, I was just going to deal with it.


    But if I was going to be wearing this thing, I''d be doing it my way. So I made sure to grab something else to go with it.


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


    After making sure my numerous fresh pairs of shorts fit, which was all I particularly cared about on that front, I now had to face the red skirt. I''d find some way to throw it into an incinerator one day.


    If there was one thing I''d learned from anime. No, scratch that, if there was one thing I''d learned from Railgun, it was that Misaka is smarter than 99% of her fellow anime heroines. Seriously, I never would have thought of wearing pants with a skirt otherwise. Absolutely genius.


    "I told you that you''d look nice," was my mom''s comment, hardly missing a beat as I stepped out of the stall. Strong sounded a bit more disappointed in comparison.


    "You''re still wearing pants under there," I was thankful we were the only people in this section of the store because that probably would have gotten us a few strange looks.


    "You don''t?" I raised my eyebrow, sensing an opportunity to at the very least tease the destroyer back. "It''s really good when you find the need to kick something."


    I wanted to show off a bit, but I didn''t want to create a scene, swinging my legs all over the place. Plus, I just might end up putting a hole in the store''s floor. Which, would, well, be completely lacking in subtlety.


    Strong''s mouth went into a little o, as if my statement brought forth an epiphany.


    Still, all I needed to do was change out of this thing, and get on to shirts.


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


    This one looked just about the right size. I picked up the shirt, unfolding it before looking down at myself. Yeah, it would fit, though it might be a size too large. That was more than acceptable. Even if it was larger than I thought, I could still use it as a sleep shirt.


    Sleep shirt? That reminds me, I should probably check to see if they have pajama bottoms here. I mean those things were freaking amazing. Comfortable, great for lounging.


    Hold on, this shirt looks nice. I frowned. I had six already. More than enough to last the few more days until vacation ended, where I would go back home, before being sent out to California. After which I''d need to just buy whatever I could. Sure, I could do it at home, but something told me the house was already swarming with reporters, and it''d only get worse if I stepped off the property.


    Yeah, maybe I should get it here. That way I wouldn''t have to deal with flashing cameras and a horde of people watching me pick out clothing. Though I didn''t have an unlimited amount of suitcase space, so I was going to have to be picky regardless. And pray than California was far less starstruck about shipgirls than Kansas was going to be.


    I reached out towards the shirt but paused at the last second. There was a feeling in my gut. One of those ominous feelings that just builds upon itself. Immediately, I began to scan the area around me. I spotted Kidd first, remaining close by while Strong was with my mother. Then I saw another person.


    Their back was turned, so I couldn''t make out any distinguishing features, but their posture just screamed at me. Like they were trying to hide something.


    Maybe I was just being paranoid, but that''s what it looked like to me. Why though? Did they have some type of camera? Phones still weren''t exactly what they used to be by a longshot, but they still took decent enough video. Even if they had reverted away from more smartphone-like designs to being built more like a brick.


    I shifted my head slightly, to give the impression that I was turning around, though my eyes remained locked on them. As I thought, their head began to swivel around as well.


    Well, whoever they were and whatever they wanted, they certainly weren''t particularly subtle. Nor did I want to be, either, but starting a confrontation wasn''t something I desired either. At this point, the shirt I wanted to pick up remained forgotten, as I went to make sure everything would, in fact, fit. While making sure whoever it was got the message behind my glare that I didn''t want to deal with them.


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


    Stepping out of the changing room, I once again looked around, hoping to relocate the individual and see them at a better angle. But either they improved at hiding, or it probably had to do with Kidd whistling none to inconspicuously in the corner.


    Yeah, sure Kidd, I completely trust that you had absolutely nothing to do with it. I turned away, my eye''s doing orbits in my skull as I rolled them. More like I wasn''t going to ask questions.


    However, I might just send a thank you card. Discreetly, of course.


    So long as she didn''t do anything drastic. Or scandalous.


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


    No, no, absolutely not. Horrifying. No. No. That? That much pink should not be possible. No, ick.


    Okay, where do they keep the pajama bottoms? I was hoping to at least get something out of the women''s section today, besides the bare essentials. But if I had to go back to the men''s section, I''d do it. I wasn''t making ideal threats here.


    Scowling at the offending articles of clothing, fingers wrapped around my hand. Looking down, I noticed the Destroyer that had mysteriously gone missing mear moments after we arrived, who was blinking the sleep from her eyes. That? That was adorable.


    Slowly, she began to pull me along. Okay, maybe pull was too strong a word. She wasn''t applying that much force. More like she was guiding me along. As if she knew exactly what I wanted.


    I almost cried when I finally saw it. Sure, some were far more vibrant and gaudy than anything I''d ever be caught dead wearing. But most were simply good enough for me.


    "Thank you, Nicholas," I grinned at the sleepy destroyer, who merely nodded tiredly. After giving her a few pats on the head, I began to pick out what few I would tolerate wearing.


    Oh, that one''s blue. A keeper by default.


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


    My mom''s breath was sharp as the bill finally rang up. I wish I was surprised that the skirt was nearly a fifth of the total, but that would make me a liar. Of which I was most certainly not. I mean, I looked at the price tag. Mom was going to pay for recommending that article of clothing, I knew that much in advance.


    Still, this was a bit more expensive than I would have liked it to be. But given how I was pretty much completely out of clothes, this was always going to be something that cost a considerably pretty penny.


    Finally, we exited the store, my arms laden with bags. Everyone was pitching in, so I could at the very least see where I was going.


    Though I wasn''t sure why we were heading towards a movie theater. What was that about?


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


    The movie was okay, I guess. It was a bit of a kiddy flick, but the destroyers liked it, so that wasn''t too awful. They deserved a bit of a thank you.


    I just used it as an excuse to snarf down as much popcorn as I possibly could. Popcorn was something I loved, movie popcorn even more so. Though I did stop after my second refill. The lady behind the counter was giving me a serious stink eye. I probably could have eaten more, otherwise.


    But honestly, even with a shipgirls appetite, three whole buckets was enough for me to say I was done, anyway. I knew mom was certainly not going to live it down, but I was content with myself. Probably wasn''t going to get the chance to do something like that any time soon, so there shouldn''t be an issue indulging myself just a bit.


    Still, I hurried along. There was more than plenty of time to get things washed before tomorrow. At the very least, the bare minimal essentials of what I needed. I mean, it wasn''t that late in the day. Throw it in before dinner rolls around, then afterward throw it into the drier. Easy.


    I mean, it would be easy. There was just one small problem. Okay, maybe not a problem. More like a question and curiosity.


    Why was I hearing a sound consistent with the doppler effect? That didn''t make any sense unless someone had managed to get a jeep into the halls, and I felt that I''d be hearing a lot more noise if that was the case. Were the halls even big enough to fit a jeep in the first place?


    I knew better than to ask why someone would do such a thing. Alcohol and shipgirls made for a considerable joint mess. Combine that with nonsensical magical properties, and the recipe for disaster was already mixed and ready for ignition. Quite frankly, it was now just another reason why I''d never touch the stuff, even after I got to legal drinking age.


    Either way, if it was an emergency, someone would come to find me. Or otherwise, contact me, I hadn''t exactly been shy giving out my contact information.


    Still, was it me, or was the noise getting closer?


    The sudden addition of weight in my arms removed the thoughts from my head. After all, I had other things to worry about.


    Like why I was suddenly bridal carrying a stranger

 Chapter 8

    It took every ounce of willpower I had to not do the first thing one would instinctively do if a stranger suddenly jumped into your arms.


    Drop them.


    This was for a few reasons. The largest being with her arms wrapped around me as they were, I wasn''t entirely sure it would be enough to dislodge her. Followed by picking up the clothes that could be spilled would prove, well, annoying.


    Lastly? Despite being a stranger, she seemed, oddly familiar. Not the I''ve seen this person on TV familiar, but personally familiar. Yet I''ve never seen this lady in my life!


    Was? Was she purring?


    Okay, whoever she was, she was happy to see me. I scowled, gears in my brain beginning to shake off dust and cobwebs, slowly coming online. I knew her from somewhere. The ocean, I think. My sister, New Hampshire. She was with us. The convoys. Then there was the propeller and.


    "South Carolina!" I gasped, mouth agape. This was the correct answer, as her bear hug only intensified. As the memory slipped into place, everything made a lot more sense. That would explain the sudden invasion of my arms.


    Still. South Carolina. I didn''t know she had been summoned. She was America''s first dreadnought, after all.


    She was our replacement. The reason we had been rendered.


    Nope! I shoved that dark line of thought back into the recesses from which it came. I was not dealing with that right now. Technology advanced. Like it or not, times change. She likely had to deal with being made obsolete as well. I wasn''t going to blame her for that.


    "I''m so happy you remember me," her grin was like the radiant sun. No, it was bright. "People kept telling me you wouldn''t, but you did."


    "It''s all a bit fuzzy," that wasn''t entirely true. It was pretty much completely fuzzy. Outside of that nightmare, and little bits like this, it was just fog.


    Plus, this was a bit awkward. What exactly is the protocol for this type of situation? Having someone just jump into my hands wasn''t something I''d experienced before.


    "But I kind of need to get my clothes situation dealt with," I nudged, trying my best to hint that I kind of wanted her to let go, without stating it outright. She looked at me for a second, before her mouth morphed.


    "Oh. Of course," slowly, she untangled herself from around my frame, with me doing my best to guide her along. Once she was on her own two feet, I looked up at her tan face, mentally frowning. I was just getting used to being tall, damn it!


    "Do you need a hand?" South Carolina extended her arm outward. I mean, it was my stuff, but if she wanted to help, I guess it shouldn''t be a problem.


    "Sure," I handed her a little less than half of my new clothes. Mostly out of my sense of pride. Sure, she offered to help me, and I certainly didn''t want to come off as rude or insulting, but I still capable.


    After all, I helped escort her home after she popped a propeller. I was supposed to aid her, not the other way around.


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


    Vestal took a sip from her jug of coffee, before placing it back on the table. Medusa had already passed out, but given the time difference between San Diego and New York, she couldn''t fault her.


    Nor could she fault many of the human engineers who had either gone home or simply fell asleep at their stations. They needed the sleep more, and Vestal preferred it that way. She''d seen what happened when they didn''t get the rest they needed.


    Honestly, compared to this, coming up with the retrofits and rebuilds of what the Admiralty called the ''little battleships'' had been simple. Increasing thickness of the armor belt while making the shape of the hull more angular, replacing boilers and engines, upgrading and adding new equipment, adding anti-air emplacements, and of course, upgrades to the main guns. Of course, that was an oversimplification of all the upgrades and modifications given, but it was the standard.


    Sadly, the Connecticut''s were the first pre-dreadnoughts returned. More specifically, Kansas was. Meaning they were in uncharted territory. And a battleship with a hybrid armament such as the pre-dreadnaughts leads to considerable conundrums. The twelve-inch guns found on the Alaska and Gaum had already been modified and placed on South Carolina, and almost all designs concocted thus far made use of those twelve-inch batteries.


    It was just a shame that outside of the twelve-inch guns, the removal of the casement batteries, and the various internal upgrades, none of the designs had anything in common.


    Even one person tried to give her a schematic that called for thinning Kansas''s armor belt. He''d take someone''s ''like a Battle Monitor'' comment a bit too literally.


    She sent him home early. He seriously needed sleep by that point.


    But there was too much confusion on what exactly to do. While little battleships had been a cute nickname from some of the earliest dreadnaughts, it was still accurate. They were just smaller battleships.


    But there was a reason HMS Dreadnaught changed naval warfare. Despite filling the role of a capital ship, the pre-dreadnaughts were drastically different in design, and how they functioned in combat. Quite frankly, nobody living would understand how a pre-dreadnought would have fought.


    Sure, some records would prove useful on that front. But finding digital military accounts proved difficult, and while some books were written on the subject, she''d prefer reports over anything else. But given the age of such reports, the hunt was still on for anything of use.


    She was one of the few ships presently in the US fleet that had been laid down before the construction of America''s first dreadnought. Well, there was the Consitution, but she doubted the ship would have relevant information on how pre-dreadnought''s fought.


    Vestal looked at the notes provided to her about Kansas''s light retrofit. The five-inch guns had integrated well, but as for their placement? There could be improvements.


    What worried her was the superstructure. Or more accurately, how little superstructure there was. The conning towers were likely going to be pitched entirely, and the smokestacks were also likely to be cut in number. That gave them room to expand, even if part of it was going to be dominated by radar and other equipment.


    Anti-Air was the biggest concern. The basic plan for Kansas''s armaments would be fine. South Carolina provided the base for the modified Mark 8 twelve-inch, and while some alterations would have to be made to the Mark 14 eight-inch, those were well within the realm of reality.


    But the small handful of twin Bofors, not even quad Bofors, was insufficient. She understood the necessity of such modifications. Kansas''s Anti-Air guns wouldn''t have been able to shoot down a fly, much less a modern aircraft. Given the beating Kansas took, it probably helped set her mind at ease. She did not blame the older ship for that.


    Still, as was, the forty-millimeter guns did not sit well with their current emplacement. With more superstructure, they would have the space for a few quad mountings, making it safer to replace her deck Bofor''s with the smaller Oerlikons.


    From there, things had devolved. Some designs called for thinning the armor to increase speed. Other''s realized just how unlikely it was to get an increase even close to the Kongo''s, preferring to double down on an even thicker and better-designed armor belt.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    Quite frankly, Vestal was more inclined on the second line of thought. She pulled up a diagram of the Connecticut''s original armor scheme. Yes, it was undoubtedly an older design, in desperate need of modernization, but it wasn''t awful. At its thinnest, it matched the thickest parts of a Baltimore''s armor belt. A class that had a length of more than two hundred feet greater. In fact, at its thickest, it was one inch thinner than the Hood. And Hood was larger still.


    For ships of their size, Connecticut''s had considerably heavy armor. Leaning into the strength would be wise. Especially as Vestal was uncertain that they would be able to fully address the issue of speed. Replacing the engines would certainly help fix parts of the issue, as would making the hull more streamlined.


    Even with increasing the armor belt''s thickness, they might be able to squeeze out a good four additional knots, five if they crossed their fingers. Not bad. If they weren''t starting at eighteen knots.


    Still, that would leave the Connecticut''s speed completely lacking for reasonable carrier escort. That would put them at twenty-two knots, twenty-three at absolute best.


    Meaning the average fleet carrier could leave them in the dust. Even light carriers would. That left seaplane tenders, and, by extension, Langley. But the former had numerous other possible escorts and the latter.


    Like her, the converted coiler was kept off the front lines. Even if Langley didn''t agree with the Admiralty, Vestal did see why they didn''t want her near active combat zones unless they could help it. Even the upgrade to her engines that could get her close to eighteen knots wasn''t healthy for her.


    Which left her awaiting conversion into a helicopter carrier, but the technology was still considerably far out in shipgirl terms.


    Vestal took another swig of coffee. Her mind was starting to wonder. Rarely a good sign. She could stay awake longer. Most shipgirls could stay awake for days, if not weeks at a time. Regardless, she knew such proved to be quite unhealthy.


    Perhaps it was time to retire for the night.


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


    IowaFan3


    -Is Kathrine okay?


    -Seriously, I haven''t heard anything much outside of the media storm.


    -Haven''t seen anything this saturated since Kansas City got summoned.


    -And Kathrine hasn''t responded either.


    FredBurger


    -I''ve tried contacting her brother about everything. No dice.


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -In bf Cyron says a lack of response is a response.


    Cyron


    -That says a lot right there.


    -Fuck.


    -How do you keep doing that?


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -Maybe stop being so predictable?


    Cyron


    -*Holds out middle finger*


    IowaFan3


    -Stop flirting you two, this is serious.


    Cyron


    -I''m not wrong.


    -Seriously, the fact neither confirms nor denies is confirmation all of its own.


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -If they denied it, you''d take that as confirmation as well.


    Cyron


    -Again, I''m not wrong.


    -Given how bad things went, the Navy''s going to want to make sure all its ducks are in a row.


    -I expect someone''s losing a job over the next few days.


    FredBurger


    -I mean, have you guys seen the pictures?


    -Cyron''s right. If that is Kathrine, then things went south, fast.


    -Someone messed up somewhere along the line, and their head will likely be on a pike.


    -Too high profile for any other response.


    IowaFan3


    -So they can''t just brush it under the rug?


    Cyron


    -At best this individual (whether or not she''s Kathrine is still out) went out without, or even ignoring orders. Which would be on them.


    -At worst?


    -Someone ordered an untrained and underage shipgirl into the field, nearly getting them killed and wasting a valuable asset in the process.


    -An event that could only be attributed to blistering incompetence or complete malicious intent.


    -The Navy doesn''t like either of those things.


    -Especially when it comes to shipgirls.


    IronSights


    -Well, I''m convinced at this point.


    -158009.jepg


    -This was circling in one of the tabloids. The Navy might have gotten some of the mainstream to back off a bit.


    IowaFan3


    -That isn''t Kathrine.


    -Kathrine is nowhere near that tall.


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -You should look at the redhead standing next to her.


    Cyron


    -Could be edited.


    -Though that does look like Kathrine''s mom.


    FredBurger


    -What''s with those little kids?


    IronSights


    -Destroyer screen.


    -Duh.


    Cryon


    -Regardless, the whole shipgirl thing makes sense in hindsight.


    IowaFan3


    -What do you mean "in hindsight"?


    FredBurger


    -She likes to swim, for starters.


    -But dunking her head underwater will result in the offending individual getting judo thrown.


    -Isn''t shipgirls hate being submerged a big give away?


    -Unless you''re a submarine?


    Cyron


    -Didn''t forget that.


    -But I was thinking of those night terrors.


    -Remember that one time at D&D?


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -God, that was awful.


    -That almost made me feel sick.


    IronSights


    -Yep. That. Wasn''t pleasant to witness.


    -On a more light-hearted note, which ship do you guys think she is?


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -Anything less than a Tillmen would be disappointing.


    -Imagine, the look on the Navy''s face if they managed to summon one of those.


    Cyron


    -It''d be the look of ''how dare that bastard shit on our plate again. He''s supposed to be dead''.


    -But in all seriousness?


    -With that turret layout we''ve seen?


    -Either an early era dreadnought, maybe even a pre-dreadnought.


    IronSights


    -Ouch.


    -Kathrine sometimes seemed like she had an old soul, but I didn''t think it was that old.


    FredBurger


    -*Spits drink out of mouth*


    -Someone''s sassy today.


    IowaFan3


    -Really? Is this where we''re going to go?


    Cyron


    -I understand your concern, but she''s likely fine at this point.


    -If Ironsight''s picture is of Kathrine, then she''s completely healed up and likely not to see combat operation for some time.


    -If it isn''t, then the media may have misidentified her in the first place.


    -Break will be ending soon. We''ll find out one way or another shortly.


    IowaFan3


    -But what about?


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -You do realize whether or not Kathrine is now a shipgirl does not affect her being able to carry your around, right?


    Cyron


    -To be fair, that goes for everyone else besides me.


    FredBurger


    -Dear God, I just finished wiping off my screen.


    -Please, stop.


    -It''s not waterproof.


    IowaFan3


    -YOU GUYS ARE IMPOSSIBLE!


    *IowaFan3 Signs Out*


    IronSights


    -You guys should stop teasing her so much.


    -Especially you, HoRdEpRiMe.


    -She lives five minutes away from your house and knows what room you sleep in.


    Cyron


    -It''d watch out for spiders if I were you.


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -She can''t put spiders in my bed if I don''t sleep!


    FredBurger


    -...


    -How many monsters have you had, exactly?


    HoRdEpRiMe


    -ALL OF THEM!


    -I must do research.


    -All the research!


    Cyron


    -The greatest advantage of having a shipgirl in our friend group is that we''ll have someone that can restrain him when he''s had too much caffeine, isn''t it?


    IronSights


    -You''re just now figuring this out?


    -Still, disappointed that the tranquilizer was a waste of money.


    Cyron


    -What?


    FredBurger


    -I was making a joke!


    -Why?


    -We don''t tranquilize our friends!


    IronSights


    -I know you were joking.


    -I wasn''t.

 Chapter 9

    BAM! BAM! BAM!


    The sea around my target rolled in bursts of paint, with a few shells finding their target, covering it in splotches in blue. Already my crew was loading another salvo, as South Carolina fired hers. Several far-off targets erupted in paint, as she gave me a smug look.


    Yes. I know. You have fire control systems. You can stop flexing on me, please, and thank you.


    Still, I''d improved over the past few days. Probably wasn''t going to get much better without the fire control systems, but at least I could hit the side of a barn now.


    Yes, whether or not I could hit the side of a barn was the metric by which I considered an improvement.


    Still, Admiral Kenneth made it sound like he had some surprise in store for me on one of the last few days.


    Yeah, not how I expected spring break to go by any considerable amount. Of course, I doubted anyone could have expected this. If they could, I''d have serious questions for them.


    South Carolina waved, singling to break off practice and return to base. I followed behind her, quickly noticing Admiral Kenneth on the docks. Beside him was a shipgirl, one I wasn''t entirely familiar with. She certainly wasn''t one of the base regulars, that was for sure.


    A carrier of some sort, if her rigging was any indication, her flight deck taking the appearance of an oversized crossbow. Odd amongst US carriers, which should have helped identify her, but I was drawing a complete blank here. Almost embarrassing.


    "South Carolina, Kansas," Admiral Kenneth spoke, as I nodded. "This is Ranger. She''s volunteered to help Kansas with her anti-air defense practice. Consider this as your final stress test before you go to San Diego." Ranger curtsied, grinning slightly.


    I nodded, as my crew began to move up the fake ammunition for the Bofors and five-inch guns. My anti-air upgrades had been pretty much neglected so far, despite being the most important upgrade I received. Which was understandable. Carriers were important, and being able to spare one for practice was probably a luxury outside of larger bases.


    I wouldn''t exactly call this fun, but unlike before I had the means to defend myself. So let''s do this!


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


    "You need a bath," South Dakota''s snicker was as it usually was, teasing, but soft. Akin to friendly ribbing.


    "No, what I need is a shower," I groaned. That could have gone better. Much better. Though, South Carolina wasn''t unscathed from Ranger''s ariel onslaught, either. Practice was going to be a must though going forward. And more anti-air. Much more anti-air.


    I was thankful that the compounds in the paint broke down quickly because even if my first instinct was to find a shower, tracking paint through the base wouldn''t be good.


    "Sorry I wasn''t able to distract enough of them," the only thing stopping South Carolina from clinging to me was the paint. I could just tell she was itching to give me a bear hug. I could already tell one was in my future.


    "It''s fine," I shrugged. I''d take any amount of paint over what happened last time bombs started dropping. That wasn''t great. Though the torpedos were worse. Even the paint ones stung a bit. To be fair, my torpedo protection belt was probably nonexistent.


    "Come on. There''s one last surprise for you," South Dakota was checky. Whatever the surprise was, she was quite excited about it. Might as well see what it was.


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


    "I trust the report got to you in good order?" Kenneth looked at the screen, as Vestal flipped through the file in her hand.


    "It has," she placed the folder down, "though it only confirms my initial suspicions. I understand that it was a bit of a rush job, but it''s sadly inadequate."


    Kenneth frowned. He expected it wouldn''t be enough, at the end of the day. But she had managed to knock down a few planes. Less than half of what South Carolina managed. Still, there was the simple issue of avoiding. Kathrine was slow, making such maneuvering difficult. Of course, anti-air would be much improved once the proper directors were added.


    "Honestly, outside of showing just how desperately she needs a proper torpedo belt, that''s going to depend on design. And sadly, speed is always going to be an issue, outside of the designs that strip down the armor belt, which is, quite frankly, counterproductive," Vestal took a swig of coffee, before pausing for a moment. "No offense to you and your teams, of course."


    Kenneth shook his head. Sure, he knew Vestal didn''t mean anything by her previous remarks, but he certainly wouldn''t be sharing them, either.


    His ear''s pricked for a moment. Well, it seems like the surprise was revealed. He smiled. A going-away party wasn''t entirely out of the question. He did hope they had fun. Hopefully, things didn''t get too out of hand.


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


    "Surprise!" the mess hall was full of streamers, balloons, alongside numerous other party stuff. Some were blatantly reused from the previous one, but the gesture was appreciated.


    A going-away party? I blinked, doing a little wave toward the rest of my family was also nearby.


    "This is for me?" I looked around, considerably surprised. I recognized just about everyone. Nicholas was asleep in the corner, snoring away, though I had no doubts that she would eventually wake. Strong and Kid were hanging around one another, both having put down whatever game system they had managed to wrangle into the room.


    Heck, even Dallas was here. Though, that was interesting. I made a quick mental note to file that away for possible ribbing purposes. Later, of course. Because what type of big sister would I otherwise be?


    "Yep. A bit of a proper sendoff before you head out to San Deigo," South Dakota grinned. "Well, I mean, you are spending some type back home, if I understand things correctly, but that''s where you''re ultimately going."


    She wasn''t wrong about being at home bit. This was a major move that required major packing. Even if I had family in the area, there was still a lot I needed to bring with me. Plus, even with the advantages being a shipgirl had when it came to school transfers, that would still take time.


    What? Shipgirls still needed education, and in someone''s wisdom, they realized having idle shipgirl hands was a bad thing. Especially natural-borns, who were already used to the whole school thing. Mostly for us still underage. Plus, I''d need something to dominate my time besides practice. Because, you know. Idle hands and all that.


    Okay, it was long past time to digress and have some fun!


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


    "Hey! That''s cheating!" I smirked at Denver''s protest as I zipped past her. She was the one that laughed at my choice of cart. Now I think I was going to laugh at her when I ended up taking the gold medal for this race.


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


    "Well, this game is," I bit my tongue. My friends were right. I could see how this game could kill friendships quite trivially. Thankfully, I''d managed to get most of my competitiveness out of my system with the previous game. Though I think everyone was trying to get payback on me for that fiasco.


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


    "So close," South Dakota hissed, as I knocked her off the edge. "How did you get so good at this?"


    "It''s a popular game among my friend group," I shrugged. Normally I wasn''t good at fighting games, but these always tended to be more party game than a fighter.


    By this point, the night had already set in, and unlike before, the cruisers had already escorted the destroyers away for the night. A few had made their return, but not all of them, though I was considering joining them. Jet lag was a pain in the rear, and I''d rather start the process of correcting now, rather than later. Even an hour could be disrupting.


    Plus, I didn''t trust that cheeky look on Ranger''s face. There was just something smug about it. Like she was taking a headcount. For what, I had no idea of knowing. Though if I stuck around for long enough, I was probably going to find out.


    "Who wants alcohol!" or I was going to find out right now.


    Well, that was probably a sign I should beat a hasty retreat back to my lodgings.


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


    "What time did you turn in?" my mother asked me as I stirred. "I didn''t hear you come in for the night."


    "Around midnight," I stretched, stifling a yawn. "Ranger thought it was a good idea to break out the alcohol, so I left." Yeah, there was no sense in hiding that one from her. Mom was going to find out the moment she hit the mess hall.


    "Did you?" I groaned, already knowing where this was going.


    "No mom. I just left. Seriously, with all the horror stories dad told me about how much he drank before the two of you started dating, why would I? I have better things I can do with my time than shoveling rotting plant matter into my body," I felt my crew practically recoil in horror at that remark. Overreaction much?


    "Okay, okay. I trust you. I''m just worried is all," I had to chomp down on the urge to roll my eyes at that remark. I was more than capable of taking care of myself. "Did anything else happen that you noticed?"


    "Well, South Dakota was chasting Ranger about it, though I''m pretty sure a few people were scrambling to keep South Carolina from getting any of it," I paused, thinking back. "Something about her being a kiss drunk?"


    On that front, I wasn''t entirely sure. Though as we entered the mess, it might be accurate, as the battleship was tied to a chair with a sign attached.


    "That''s, interesting," my mom commented, before looking up. "Is that?"


    "Just don''t question it," I''m not sure how Pheonix got attached to the ceiling, but I certainly didn''t want to find out about that, either.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


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


    Given how our flight was still out of Orlando, that meant we ultimately had to get moving pretty quickly. It was under escort, something I found personally excessive if little else. South Carolina had also joined us, but that was explicitly temporary.


    The latter I didn''t mind. Even if it was a bit more just enjoying her company than active conversation. South Dakota couldn''t join us, given she had other responsibilities. But we''d both promised to keep in touch, even if we would ultimately be stuck on opposite ends of the continent.


    Of course, I thought the whole escort thing was overkill until we started getting close to the airport. Sure, we hadn''t come this way in quite some time, but unless I was missing something, there normally weren''t this many vans. They looked like, news vans.


    Wait? News? I did a double-take at one, noticing the logo. Well, that was great.


    "Is something wrong?" South Carolina had to have noticed my double-take. I mean, she was right next to me, so how could she not?


    "News vans," I frowned, peeking my head around, noticing a few others on either side. "A lot of news vans." I bent my head backward, hoping to avoid any possible camera''s outside.


    "Them? They never hurt anyone. They can be a bit a pain, okay, a very large pain," South Carolina started as I looked down at my feet. Quite frankly, that wasn''t what I cared about. I just didn''t want hundreds of strangers shouting questions at me. That was not the type of attention I wanted.


    "Wait, are you?" I could hear the gears in South Carlonia''s mind turning. Wait, no. Please no. I could already tell where this is going. I''ve seen enough anime to know where this was going. The only thing saving me from a seventeen thousand-ton hug was the seatbelts.


    "Are you shy?" I turned my head, blushing slightly. Shy was not the word I''d used to describe myself. Shy implied not wanting to meet new people. Not wanted to deal with a writhing throng of flashing lights and noise was something completely different.


    Clearly, this was not a sentiment South Carolina shared as she cackled.


    "No. I just don''t want to deal with all of it," I waved my hands around, trying to avoid striking anyone on accident. "This." The airport we were going to was already enough of a crowded mess under normal circumstances, as I recalled. Things may have changed since the last time we were here, but I doubted it.


    "Well, you won''t have much to worry about. They won''t be able to follow where we''re going," South Carolina looked smug, winking at me.


    Wait? I thought we were going to the airport for our regular flight? What was something them from just following us?


    Unless we weren''t going by a commercial airline. Which was a fair share of money down the drain, given we already purchased tickets for the return flight.


    "So, where are we going then?" I asked, turning my head slightly.


    "It''s a surprise, silly," South Carolina put a finger to her lips.


    Well, that was great and all, but I''d really like some useful information.


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


    "I think this is the place," eventually, my father came to a stop, putting our rental car in park.


    Yeah, this wasn''t our usual destination. Of course, that had become apparent once we started going through checkpoints. It took a few moments for us to begin disembarking and grabbing our luggage.


    Well, the rest of my family was. In terms of luggage capacity, well, it was safe to say I had plenty of room to spare. The mundane utility is insane. I didn''t have to carry things anymore! Well, outside of a few circumstances. But otherwise, I''d just be able to store it all in my hull.


    This would make the move out to California much easier. Seriously. I could just take my entire bed with me without the need to take the whole thing apart. Given how the thing doubled as my dresser, that would be especially nice. Could bring my desk along pretty easily as well. Not to mention the books. Even if I wasn''t as much of an avid reader, I''d probably find a use for them.


    But that was a future problem. Not a particularly hard one at that.


    As for the plane? It looked like a standard plane. Just a bigger commercial airliner. Though if I recalled what military transport birds looked like from the inside, it wasn''t going to be a comfy ride.


    Of course, that I could live with. Though that raised a few questions about how they planned to get me to California. Was it going to be like this? Or was a civilian flight going to be used?


    Again, more future problems. Not a particularly big deal, one way or another. The latter would be more comfortable, but there was something to be said about not being stared at like a fish in an aquarium.


    Several things, in truth.


    "Everything ready to go?" one of the soldiers approached us. Pretty much. There was just one last person I needed to say goodbye to.


    She''s currently got my lungs in a death grip, though, which put a considerable damper on that ability.


    "I''m going to miss you!" holy crap, I could feel the wind being forced from my lungs. This was insane!


    "South. Carolina. I still need air," I rasped, finally dislodging the crushing squeeze.


    "Sorry!" she apologized as I sucked in air like a vacuum.


    I promised to keep in touch though.


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


    I''m not surprised by this. Merely disappointed.


    Of course, it wasn''t like I wasn''t going to have to shop for new clothes anyway, given the growing I''d done.


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


    "Why is everyone staring at me?" the question was purely rhetorical, of course. It didn''t take a genius to figure out exactly why I''d been feeling just about everyone''s gazes burning a hole in my skull. Even if they hadn''t been paying attention to the news, an unlikely event as is, the fact I was nearly six foot was enough of a change to draw attention by itself.


    "I''m sure it has nothing to do with the fact you''re now a six-foot amazon that could bench our entire football team," Keith''s eyes were rolling so hard they could have been mistaken for orbits. "Or the fact your lunchbox nearly tripled in size."


    Okay, those were two valid and fair points. Didn''t mean I had to like it.


    "So which ship, Ow!" Jacob was interrupted by a solid elbow in the arm by Jacquline.


    "Rude!" she snapped, shooting him a harsh glare of her own. One he returned while rubbing his arm, but remained quiet. "Kathrine might not be able to talk about it."


    Ah, I see. She was worried about me.


    "Kansas," I said faintly, making sure nobody beyond the table could hear me. Sure, the cat was out of the bag, but no sense in leading everyone to its location.


    "Dang. You always acted like you had an old soul, but I didn''t think it was that old," Keith muttered under his breath, shaking his head.


    "That would explain why you got your butt kicked so hard," I shot Nathen a glare, as did just about everyone else.


    "So, if that''s the case, how long are you going to be staying here?" I raised an eyebrow. Jacob was not typically the person to ask questions like that.


    "Probably a week or two. I have to transfer schools and all that fun stuff," sure the schools around here were great, but not particularly built for shipgirls who could be away for weeks to months at a time. Plus, they were lacking major online amenities.


    There were a few years before that would become an issue. If ever, in this timeline.


    I prayed for the latter of the two options.


    "So we have some time to have a bit of fun before you head out," Keith nodded, already jotting down notes.


    "Sadly, part of that time is going to be getting new clothes," Jacquline''s eyes began to sparkle. "Don''t get your hopes up. It''s mostly to replace everything."


    "Understandable. You''ve done a bit of growing," Nathen nodded.


    "Growing''s only part of the issue," I rolled my eyes. "It has more to do with the fact most of my clothes converted into dresses." Keith mouthed something about magical shipgirl bs, as Jacob let out a howl of laughter.


    "Oh, that''s something I''ve got to see!" he cackled.


    "Please. You''ve seen me in a dress before," I crossed my arms, resisting the urge to smack him upside the head.


    "What!" Jacquiline nearly smacked the table. "When was this?"


    Oh, right, Jacquiline had been inducted into our friend group after we decided school dances and the like were a waste of time. That''s a bit silly of me to forget.


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


    Despite everything, we remained close to home. Nothing too major. I was effectively off the cross country team anyway. Being a shipgirl was by all means classified as an unfair advantage. Well, not in the writing of the rules, but I didn''t care much for violating the spirit, either.


    Because if my participation wasn''t breaking that much in half, then I didn''t know what was.


    We certainly tried to make the most of it. Group hangouts, full of plenty of games. Even a LAN party towards the end. Though I was a bit surprised seeing my older sister already being added to World of Warship''s tech-tree.


    But it wasn''t going to last, and we all knew it. Naturally, we would all try to keep in touch, but our means of mass communication were considerably archaic. The war knocked back discords development, if I recalled correctly, leaving us with Skype and freaking Vent!


    Many hugs were had, tears were shed, with family and friends alike. I did my best to avoid recreating what South Carolina did to me, but the results were mixed.


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


    Slowly, I made my way from the terminal. Okay, they should be here by now, so why couldn''t I see them?


    The pattering of feet reached my ears, turning around in the nick of time to catch two pre-teens as they flung themselves at me.


    "Kathrine!"

 Chapter 10

    "Kathrine!" both pre-teens lept into my arms with immense vigor. Mercifully, I managed to bleed off their moment, spinning slightly. Meanwhile making sure not to hit anyone upside the head.


    Because that wouldn''t have gone over well on the news.


    "You guys have grown," I snorted, slowly coming to a stop as the two giggled. Of course, I didn''t get to see them often, so that was always going to be true.


    "That''s the pot calling the kettle black," Eren snottered at me, letting out a few more giggles as I propped her and her brother up on my shoulder. My eyes visibly rolled, but I shared her chuckle. Older expressions were some of my favorites, and honestly? It was more than appropriate.


    "And you need to stop squirming, mister," I glared up at Gale from his perch, the younger boy sticking out his tongue.


    "Gale, you can either sit still or Kathrine can put you down," I turned to face my cousin''s wife, who was watching the scene next to my cousin himself, chuckling in amusement.


    Lucas was chuckling as well, but for a completely different reason. Mostly the karma of his children using me as a jungle gym. Which, looking back, I wasn''t going to blame him for.


    "Lucas, it''s good to see you again," I''d have gone for a hug, but I was busy balancing his two kids on my shoulders.


    "Indeed. It has been far too long," he looked up at me. Once, I''d been taller, if only slightly. Now it was almost humorous. "Don''t look too smug up there. You know the family curse will catch up eventually."


    "I doubt shipgirl powers will be beaten that easily," I smirked, though part of me realized he was right. Oh well, I''d still have a few more years of being the tallest sibling again. And I was going to hold onto it with everything I was worth.


    "So, where''s your luggage?" Lauren asked, looking around towards the numerous belts that carried various bags.


    "Got everything aboard," I grinned, quite pleased with me using my shipgirl attributes to my advantage. No need to pay for carry-on or anything else. I can just store it aboard. A penny saved was a penny earned and all that.


    "You''re adapting fast, aren''t you?" Gale''s head bent down, trying to look me in the eyes. He was vibrating at this point.


    "If that''s the case, then we should probably head out. Traffic isn''t exactly pleasant to deal with," Lucas pointed through the mass of people.


    Still, I was a bit surprised by the lack of flashing cameras. It was certainly a different experience than what I had back in Kansas.


    "Agreed. I''m sure the two of them are ready to ask Kathrine plenty of questions," both kids were now vibrating on my shoulders. That may just be an understatement.


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


    "What''s it like to be a ship?"


    "What''s it feel like to be more than a century old?"


    "What do repair baths feel like?"


    "How do your guns work?"


    "Are your fairies allowed to drink?"


    "When will you get your IRL buff patch?"


    These were the type of questions I had been expecting. Except for the last one, which nearly made me do a dry spit take. Is that what kids are calling retrofits these days?


    "Old," I started, working my way through the questions I could answer. "It feels like a warm bath or hot spring, I do suppose." I''m pretty sure a repair bath was meant to mimic a hot spring to some extent. How exactly that worked, I have no clue.


    "They work like guns. Techinquily yes, but under a considerable number of restrictions," that little piece of information had come as a relief to my crew, and a bit of a shocker for me. "And your father probably has a bit more information on that front than I do."


    I winked at Eren, diverting her attention towards the front seat of the car for a few moments. I didn''t know if Lucas was involved with the project, but one way or another, either through word of mouth or involvement, but he''d know more than I do.


    "But you didn''t answer the first question," Gale paused, immediately ruining my attempt at distraction. Eren''s eyes turned around, suddenly now expecting an answer.


    "Because it''s, complicated," I frowned. "Sorry if this sounds like a cop-out, but it''s not an easy, straightforward question to answer. It''s like asking a person what it''s like to be a human. Or a feline what it''s like to be a cat."


    "But don''t you feel different?"


    The question hung in the air, waiting. I mean, kind of, but not for those reasons. Hindsight was 20-20 for a reason. Quite frankly, there had been a few changes in things I liked and didn''t like that just couldn''t be explained away by having a different gender. Being a shipgirl explained those things perfectly.


    Loving water but hating diving, something I previously enjoyed. A bit more love for the marine aspects of paleontology. Things that simply couldn''t just be explained away as different experiences and upbringing. The signs were there. They were present. Being a shipgirl was just as much part of myself as anything else. So the answer was.


    "No. Not really."


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


    "This is your room," Lauren opened the door, allowing me into the guest bedroom. Sure, it was a bit small, between the bed and the dresser, but for my needs, it was perfect.


    "Thank you," I nodded, already pulling out boxes from my hull, getting a feel for how much space was in each drawer on the dresser. It was a bit smaller than the one back at home, but I hadn''t packed much in the way of winter gear.


    Seriously, people around here thought the forties to fifties was cold weather. I just sat back and laughed about my home state and her bipolar weather. We even got snow in the summer once. Mother Nature likes to keep us on our toes.


    "Dinner will be ready soon. And apologies in advance. They''ll probably want to bother you more in the interim," Lauren smiled slightly, and I chuckled. I was not at all surprised.


    "Don''t worry. I''ll get them to help out. That''ll give them a release valve for their pent-up energy," I smirked, eyes flashing towards the door. What? They were teenagers. Well, one of them was a teenager. I didn''t need rangefinders or radar to figure out they were currently in the hallway. Didn''t need lookouts for that one, either.


    "I''m sure they''ll enjoy that," Lauren''s smirk mirrored my own, with her eyes flicking back towards the door, merely confirming my suspicions. Not that I needed mom instincts to pick up on them.


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


    I could simply tell Lucas was smirking. I could tell, without even looking at him. I guess this was simply more karma for what I did to him when I was a child.


    Even before I became a shipgirl, if I wasn''t playing around, I could have easily tussled Gale into exhaustion. As a shipgirl, it was more of a question of trying not to hurt him.


    Much like Lucas had to do when both I and my brother jumped all over him.


    Even Eren seemed to enjoy watching her brother try to tip me over onto her back from her position on one of the chairs. When she wasn''t completely absorbed with whatever game she had been playing on her old laptop.


    I assume it was a game. I couldn''t quite tell from my current position.


    "I have a question," I turned my head slightly, with Eren''s voice causing her brother to let go, though I was about to tell him to do just that. His legs were getting a bit too close to my spine. "Can you put something living inside your hull? Like a person or something?"


    Out of the corner of my eye, I could Lucas nearly spring up in alarm, waving his arms in the universal gesture for no. Wasn''t entirely sure what that was about.


    "No, I don''t think so," I paused, wondering where she was going with this.


    "How about none humans. Cows? Deer? Things like that?" again, her question was meet with even more hand waving from Lucas, now joined in by Lauren. Gale was snickering at his parents, but Eren didn''t seem to catch on. Or didn''t care.


    "What about animals that have appeared on warships? Like cats, mice, and rats? Or do those have a spiritual component, like fairy''s?" I paused. I was aware of the tradition of a ship''s cat, but did that carry over? Did I have a ship''s cat?


    Gears began to turn in my mind. If I had a ship''s cat, something I wasn''t entirely going to discredit. Stranger things have happened. But if a ship''s cat came back?


    I shuttered. Yeah, that was very much a nope, thank you very much.


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


    While I doubted it was true, I considered the naval base I stayed at in Florida was respectably sized. When taken in comparison to the base in San Diego? It was minuscule. Even before the war, San Diego''s naval base was nearly a thousand acres, effectively nearly one and a half square miles.


    Even seeing it from afar was quite the sight. Fourteen docks extended out into the water. I couldn''t tell from my current position, but many seemed too busy and crowded with people. Other''s contained steel hulls, ranging from aircraft carriers that easily dwarfed me in size, to much smaller escort and transport ships.


    "You seem impressed," Lucas chuckled, watching me stare out over the base from our current position. Which, to be fair, I most certainly was.


    "Because I am?" I rolled my eyes, letting out a little snort as I did so. What? In my defense, the last time I''d been to a naval base of this caliber was Pearl Harbor, which was a lifetime ago, and the ones I had visited as Kansas, which was a blurry lifetime ago.


    Which, on the later front, bases had grown considerably in the past near-century since then. As could be expected. Bigger ships required more of everything. Space, crew, fuel. Naturally, things would grow to match.


    Especially now shipgirls had been thrown into the mix. I could only imagine the additional resources required to pull that off.


    "In her defense, this is the first time she''s seeing a base of this size," Lauren elbowed my cousin in the arm. "After all, how long has she been stuck inland?"


    Lucas merely chuckled again, as I rolled my eyes. Though I was almost curious how that revelation would turn out. Sure, the reincarnation of the USS Kansas being someone from Kansas was funny and all, but I had to wonder what might come from it.


    Still, it was a wonder to behold. Even in the distance, it seemed almost alive.


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


    "Is that?" I paused, looking at the girl dancing on what looked like a makeshift stage, her red twin tails bouncing in the wind. The faint sound of her voice pierced into the car''s interior. I couldn''t exactly make out the words, which was odd, given how she seemed to hold a microphone in her hand.


    "San Diego?" Lucas almost seemed to wince.


    "She seems to have forgotten to plug in the microphone, again," Lauren sighed. "Thank goodness for small mercies."


    "What? Is she a troublemaker or something?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Neither of them made sounds that sounded good.


    "I wouldn''t say that," Lucas started, looking over to his wife.


    "She''s just," Lauren sent a glance toward her husband.


    "Loud," he finished, rubbing his ears.


    "Very, energetic. To the point where I find myself agreeing with her sister," Lauren frowned. "She just can make it difficult to hear yourself think."


    "So, basically shipgirl stuff taken to an extreme?" I frowned, turning my head to watch as a girl with brown hair, also done up in twin tales, with a similar uniform, began dragging San Deigo from her stage.


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


    "It is a pleasure to finally meet you," the Admiral before me offered out his hand for me to shake. I did so, carefully, but firmly. A firm handshake was one step in a good first impression, but I didn''t want to injure him, either. "I''ve heard quite a bit about you from word of mouth. Mostly from your cousin."


    I chuckled as Lucas rubbed the back of his head.


    "Though that was before all this, Kathrine," his face became somewhat more serious. "I must extend my apologies, though I imagine Admiral Kenneth has done plenty of that."


    "Yes, sir," I nod, eyes keeping my gaze locked with his.


    "Right now, our primary goal is both your training and your continued education, as you can imagine. Though the time we can put into the former is somewhat limited, as there will probably be more beneficial once you''ve received your retrofit," I nodded, understanding his reasoning. "Which is, to be blunt, likely to take a while."


    I almost blinked. Something about the design''s already starting to breed? That didn''t sound good. Ultimately, the man cleared his throat with a hardy cough.


    "In the meantime, you should spend some time getting acclimated to the base. We''re a lot larger out here, and we even have classes that I suggest you look into in place of a more practice-oriented regiment," he continued. That made sense. "And you have a perfect guide."


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "Me, sir?" Lucas seemed a bit surprised.


    "Correct. You''re family, after all," the Admiral seemed to be somewhat amused. "Someone is already covering your shift for the day, so don''t worry about it."


    "Yes sir!" Lucas stood, giving a brief salute, as I stood up, doing the same.


    "Dismissed," he said, as we turned towards the door. "Oh, and Kathrine?"


    "Sir?" I looked back at the older Admiral.


    "You may call me Admiral Jeffery," I paused for a moment.


    "Yes sir."


    "I''m honestly a bit surprised you didn''t go for a Game of Thrones reference," Lucas looked at me as the door closed.


    "Seemed disrespectful," I shrugged, "Plus, as far as I''m concerned, the show''s overrated, anyway. Mark my words."


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


    "Well, these are the Battleship dorms. Quite frankly, right now, I don''t know exactly how much you''ll be using your room here," Lucas frowned, staring at the massive building in front of us. "With you staying with us and all that."


    "Fair. Still, it would probably be good to at least know where the room is, on the chance I do need it," I offered. After all, knowing exactly where my room was, if I did end up needing it, would be wise. Much rather know where it was and not need to visit than need to use it and not know where it is.


    Plus, if any of my sisters were summoned here, I''d probably end up spending much more time at the dorms. Sure, Lucas''s house had some room for more people, but spoilers, that room was for more children. And sure, there might be room for one more of us. Two if we squeezed.


    "True," Lucas muttered as he made his way inside, me following behind him.


    Inside looked like a small entrance, with a closed-off desk, alongside a screen door leading further inside. It looked like one of those that required a keycode, or a card.


    "Strange," Lucas muttered, before tapping a bell on the desk. Its sharp ring cracked through the silence before a snort came from the other side of the desk. Slowly, a woman stood up, stretching and smacking her lips.


    I''ve seen pictures of Iowa. I''ve even seen a few of Yamoto. Even then, the shipgirl before me looked as if she had an inch or two even on the largest Japanese battleship.


    How they managed to procure an oversized navy t-shirt for such a behemoth, let alone a matching pair of sweatpants, was beyond me. As was how she''d been able to fit back there in the first place. Seriously, she''d either curled up like a cat or folded herself behind the desk, because that was not physically possible.


    "New Hampshire, I wasn''t aware you were in charge of the check-in," my heart nearly skipped a beat in my chest. New Hampshire? Had I missed something? Had I overlooked any details?


    Much to my unsurprised disappointment, I had not. Her hull was too large, guns much too numerous. I didn''t know why I had gotten so excited. I knew I was the first of my sisters to return. So why had I gotten my hopes up?


    "I''m not. The usual got in later than expected so I''m covering for them," the battleship named after my youngest sister got out between yawns. "See?"


    She pushed open a door, with Lucas and I peering inside, seeing someone shoveling food into their face in a hurry. I couldn''t quite tell if the individual was a shipgirl or not, but they certainly appeared hungry.


    "Really Johnny?" Lucas''s voice caused the individual in question to spit out whatever it was he''d been eating, sputtering out a few words.


    "Anyway," New Hampshire closed the door, turning towards me instead. "I''m guessing she''s why you''re here?"


    I felt the larger battleship''s gaze look me up and down as if she was sizing me up.


    "I like your dress," her compliment took me off guard.


    "Thank you," I stammered out, trying to figure out something that I could give a compliment in return. "I like your pants."


    Really? Had I really just said that? Pants? PANTS? Did I really just compliment her pants? Out of all the things I could have said, that had to be the stupidest. At least if I complimented her eyes or something it could have come off as a very poor flirting attempt!


    "Really? Thank you," she chuckled, stopping me from burying my head in my hands out of sheer embarrassment. "You''re the USS Kansas if I''m not mistaken?"


    I noticed Lucas freeze up slightly.


    "Please, call me Kathrine," I said firmly. Getting called Kansas was something I was going to have to get used to. But that didn''t mean I had to take it on the chin every time, either.


    "I see. Apologies, then," New Hampshire hummed, looking between the two of us. "I do suppose that makes much more sense."


    "Apology accepted," I watched as she began typing in at the computer, continuing to hum to herself.


    "I understand. My oldest sister is a natural-born, like you," New Hampshire shook her head as if shaking off memories. "You''ll get no further mix up''s from me, honest. And on that note, here''s your card."


    "You scan it at the door, and your room number is on the back," I flipped the plastic rectangle over, making note of the digits on the back. "While there is plenty of spare space normally, I''d highly recommend just storing stuff in your room, and nowhere else. You''ll never know when we''ll get an influx of new ships. We don''t typically have to deal with escort ships having to stay here in the battleship dorms, but sometimes it happens."


    "Thank you. I''ll keep that in mind," I nodded, putting the card in the door with a satisfying click.


    "Oh, and one more thing," I turned around, halfway through the door. "Whatever you do, don''t lose it. Ever. The last thing any of us want is a repeat of the Canteen Incident.


    "Guh," Lucas shuttered in what could only be disgust. "I remember that incident. It wasn''t pretty."


    "Let me guess," I crossed my arms. "This is some type of military-grade noodle incident that can only be referenced but never actually spoken of because of how crazy it was?"


    Both of them made a face.


    "When you put it like that, it makes it sound less impressive," Lucas offered.


    "What do you mean, less impressive?" I frowned. Something told me I was going to be mentally bailing on this conversation in short order.


    "We''re the largest shipgirl base in the world. We currently have a noodle incident scoreboard against Yokosuka," New Hampshire''s lips grew into a smirk. "Last I checked, we were in the lead."


    "Last I heard, they had an incident involving fire control hoses, destroyers with fireworks, and Japanese hornets."


    And I''m off to find my room now.


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


    "Are those?" I looked at the small cluster of girls. Even without their rigging, their frames made it clear they were destroyers, and in one particular case, a destroyer escort.


    "Taffy Three?" Lucas whispered. "Yes, they are. I would highly advise we steer clear of them right now."


    If half of what I heard about that particular group of ships was true, I''d agree. It wouldn''t surprise me if they saw a pre-dreadnought as an easier target than say, Yamato.


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


    "This is the laboratory. When engineers aren''t busy with repair work and base upkeep, we''re generally here, helping the repair ships with design and other projects," Lucas grinned, as I watched people run back and forth.


    "Wow. This place is big," I muttered, gazing towards the open ceiling. I hadn''t been entirely sure what I''d been expecting. A bit more of a traditional lab, perhaps?


    Maybe they weren''t keeping one on such an active military base.


    "Of course, one of the projects right now is the idea''s for your retrofit," Lucas hummed, tapping his chin. "Vestal should be around here somewhere. Word from the grapevine says that she''s been having trouble narrowing down designs."


    "Just from the grapevine, huh," I teased, giving him a gentle ribbing. "The Admiral said something to that effect earlier today."


    "Besides, shouldn''t you know more about this than I do?" Lucas just shrugged.


    "How do you put it, again? I''m an engineer. I solve practical problems," I let out a snort, and I could hear a few other chuckles come from nearby. Showing him that video had not been a mistake.


    "All problems are practical problems," a voice interrupts us. She was a shipgirl, that much was clear, though she lacked any visible armaments. Still, she seemed familiar. Not personally so, but it remained a close thing. There was just something about her hat and blue eyes that seemed familiar.


    I just couldn''t quite place it. Maybe it was her outfit? It certainly wasn''t the usual I''d come to expect, though a repair ship wearing grease and oil splattered overalls alongside a long-sleeved shirt made sense. Oh right, repair ship, that should have been obvious.


    "Vestal, this is my cousin, Kathrine," Lucas offered, identifying her for me. Wait, Vestal? Her summoning had made the news, so there were quite a few pictures of her in circulation. Between her hair being tied up in a ponytail and the overalls, it was no wonder I didn''t recognize her.


    She didn''t say anything in response, intent to continue to gaze at me, before pulling out a notebook and pencil. I wasn''t quite sure what to do, even as she lifted my arm slightly, before jotting down more in her notebook.


    "Can I help you?" I asked, feet shuffling slightly, my eyes managing to catch a peek at the page she was drawing on. Vestal''s deft hand was making notes, annotations, and at the center of it all, lay a schematic.


    My schematics.


    "No, that will be all," Vestal closed the book in her hand with a crack, before it vanished. "As I expected, seeing you in person was most certainly helpful, though there is a lot I still need to do before your retrofit can be given the seal of approval."


    "Thank you?" I mean, I most certainly was. Calling it a retrofit almost seemed like saying it was a drastic understatement of the workload.


    "You''re welcome," Vestal smiled, a warmer expression came across her face. "Now that you have my ear, however, is there anything that you might have in mind?"


    I paused. Anything? Well, if I had to choose one thing I''d particularly want. Well, anti-air was to be expected, as was just about anything I''d want that''d be considered necessary. If it was something a bit more trivial.


    "Would torpedo tubes be a possibility? Not like the ones I have now, but ones like destroyers have," Vestal just looked at me as if I''d grown a second head. Given how the US removed torpedo launchers for most of their cruisers in favor of more anti-aircraft guns. "I know, it''s probably a bit much to ask for those."


    "I will try, but given everything else has priority on the matter, I won''t make any promises. Your anti-air defenses are already going to prove enough of an issue for me to be willing to compromise them simply for the sake of having torpedo launchers," Vestal jotted down a few more notes. "However, I''ll make note all the same, for the sake of future reference."


    "I expect as much," I shrugged. No harm, no foul I supposed. "Thank you anyway for listening."


    "Torpedoes? Really?" Lucas whispered as Vestal started heading towards her workstation.


    "What? I killed an Abyssal with them. I kind of feel nostalgic," I chuckled at his expression.


    "That happened just a few weeks ago, how do you already feel nostalgia?" Again, I shrugged. I didn''t have to explain how my brain worked. Because I wasn''t entirely sure on that front myself.


    "No wonder you feel so old sometimes," he just shook his head.


    "I''m going to start feeling old once they start remaking games from my childhood," I laughed, though I wasn''t joking. The war may have put a dent in quite a few markets, but the moment it ended, I knew those two remakes were coming out.


    "You keep saying that. I''m wondering if that day is going to,"


    "VESTAL!" A loud voice echoed from across the building. Even from where I stood, I heard the repair ship let out an annoyed groan, face resting in her hands.


    "Who is that?" I frowned, trying to spot the origin of the bellowing voice. Though Lucas was also rubbing his hands against his temple.


    "Langley, if I had to guess," Lucas let out a sigh. Langley? As in, the first aircraft carrier ever built, Langley? I mean, given how many American carriers were named after older carriers or ones that had been previously lost, it wouldn''t surprise me if there was more than one Langley around.


    "She comes down every few days, asking about the helicopter progress. Which, in all honesty, is a lot more complicated than it looks, and only the repair ships can work on it," Lucas waved his hand, as a shipgirl, smaller than even Vestal, made her way out of the crowd. "Honestly, it''s probably best to ignore her. Vestal can handle herself."


    I paused for a moment, watching the two talk to one another.


    "Nah. I think I have a different idea."

 Chapter 11

    *Meanwhile, on the other side of the world*


    "So, the United States has summoned its first pre-dreadnought?" Naka watched Akashi as the repair ship went through with her checklist.


    "More like a natural-born. Still, such as caused quite the stir. They are certainly playing her close to their chest. Though after that incident, I can''t say I''d blame them for trying to keep her out of the public eye," Naka winced at Aksahi''s statement. She''d seen a video of South Dakota and Washington carrying the damaged pre-dreadnought between them on stream.


    "Natural born? For a ship that old? That''s exciting. I wonder how the Americans taking her arrival?" Naka''s legs kicked lazily was Akahi removed the stethoscope from her ears. Her being a natural-born would explain why the Americans were being cautious.


    "With trepidation, it seems. Of course, I can''t blame them for that, either. The star of such ships has long since fallen. To make them useful in the modern era would be, intensive, to say the least," Akashi hummed. "Last I heard, Vestal a few other repair ships had been tapped to come up with a functioning design."


    "Regardless, you''re clear. Though you''d better hurry. Last I checked, today''s summoning ritual is in less than a half-hour," Akashi turned towards her, though Naka looked at her in confusion.


    "You aren''t coming?" Naka picked up her things, opening the door slightly. "I''d think Admiral Goto would want you to be there?"


    "As much as I would like to, Admiral Goto and a few of the other members of the Admiralty want me brainstorming ideas as well. America isn''t the only nation with pre-dreadnaughts," Akashi sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "I have my concerns about the resources necessary, but I can see their reasoning. Especially given how close she is."


    Mikasa. Naka knew who Akashi was talking about. The last pre-dreadnought steel hull left afloat in the entire world.


    "Then I wish you the best of luck, Akashi."


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


    I approached the two bickering former colliers like how one would approach a tiger. Quite frankly, I was lying about how I had an idea. Well, not quite. I had a plan. Just probably not a good one.


    "You''re Langley, right?" I approached, towering over both ships. Vestal in her oil-stained overalls, and Langley in what looked like an old fashion teaching outfit. Both ships stopped, turning to look up at me.


    "Yes, I am. And you are?" Langley''s eyes narrowed, much like an annoyed teacher glared at the problem student in class.


    "She''s Kathrine, the reincarnation of the USS Kansas," Vestal spoke up as I nodded. Langley''s gaze flicked back to Vestal for a moment, before returning to me.


    "So you are," she said after a moment of gazing at me. "I''m guessing that this is what they''ve had you busy with, Vestal?"


    "That is understandable. I wish you good luck and swifter progress."


    And with that, the carrier was gone. It took a few moments for the sound of work to resume, beginnings to fill the air with a drone I hadn''t noticed vanished.


    "She''s abrasive, isn''t she," I crossed my arms, frowning slightly. She left in a hurry though. Langley certainly wasn''t subtle about her jab by any stretch.


    "Try not to judge her too much for it. The Admiralty doesn''t want to risk the grandmother of the entire carrier force," Vestal shook her head. "She takes it pretty personally."


    "Ever considered trying to get her a hobby of some kind? Help take her mind off things," I offered, shrugging my shoulders.


    "Believe me. I''ve tried," Vestal let out a sigh. "Langley''s old, and she''s stubborn. Both of us are older still, so it''s not like that should be a surprise."


    "Still thank you for that," Vestal nodded. "She wouldn''t have stayed too long, but I think she''ll stop bothering me for the foreseeable future."


    "Really? You just said Langley was stubborn, after all," my eyebrow raised. If she was that stubborn, she wouldn''t give up that easily, right?


    "Yet you''re the oldest between the two of you. Trust me. This is far from the first time she''s been willing to put her wants on pause for a vessel that''s older than her," Vestal chuckled, a warmer smile gracing her features. "It''s a seniority thing. Don''t let it bother you too much. I do hope you enjoy the rest of your tour with your cousin, but I must return to my work."


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


    "That was something," Lucas muttered as we left. I mean, he wasn''t exactly wrong. He wanted to show me around his place of work, not get involved with whatever that was. Vestal seemed pretty quick to forgive Langley though.


    "Is it usually this exciting?" I turned towards Lucas, as he wiggled his hand.


    "I can see why you think it''s exciting, but honestly, I''m kind of used to it by this point," Lucas shrugged. "Though I''ll admit, I''ve never seen Langley disengage quite like that before."


    Yeah, that was certainly something to think about. Langley had some issues, though I certainly understood the reluctance to let her into a proper combat zone as is. But there had to be something someone could do to make her feel useful. Maybe even some type of distraction hobby? Vestal said she''d tried before, and I certainly didn''t doubt her. However, there had to be something that could grab the old carrier''s interests.


    Maybe old movies, or shipbuilding, or something like that. Surely, Langley had to have an interest in things beyond carrier operations. Some type of simulation game, perhaps?"


    Wait, was making bottled ships something shipgirls did?


    "You okay?" Lucas placed his hand on my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts.


    "Sorry, I was just contemplating, is all," it was time to put a pin in my train of thought. There was time for that later.


    "You''re thinking of helping, aren''t you?" Lucas was less asking a question, and more stating a fact.


    "Hey, I''m stubborn too, you know," I chuckled, rubbing the back of my head.


    "Alright then. Let''s get your tour finished up, Miss Stubborn," he teased as I let out a snort of amusement.


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


    "This is where all the steel hulls are," Lucas waved his hand out over the docks, with numerous ships floating in the water. From a distance, they''d looked imposing. Seeing them up close? None of that had been lost. Even one of the smaller ships tied up was larger than I had been. Which was to say nothing of the largest vessels, the carriers.


    "That one right there is the Lincoln," he pointed at one further down the docks. It was a towering behemoth of steel, probably weighing in at several times my own weight. That was a humbling thought if nothing else.


    The more I looked at the ship, however, the more it felt like something, or someone was looking at me. Wait? Is that? Someone was standing on the edge of the flight deck?


    "What the?" I muttered, squinting to see if I could make out more of its features as it''d legs hung over the flight deck, kicking back in forth. But with the angle I was standing at, all I could make out was a blur with a hat, before vanishing into thin air.


    "Is there something wrong?" Lucas was mimicking my squint, hand right above his eyebrows.


    "There was a person. On the flight deck," I stammered out, pointing towards where I had seen the individual moments before. "Did you not see them?" How? We were both staring right at it. How could he have missed it while I haven''t?


    "Some of the shipgirls mention seeing a figure from time to time. Admiralty wants sightings to be reported and logged, actually," Lucas frowned, jotting down a note, likely for later reference.


    "Really? Do you have any idea why?" I honestly could probably make a few educated guesses on that front.


    "Summoning. Nimitz and her sisters are close to forty years old now. Seeing as the Midway''s have all been summoned, the Navy has been trying to see if we can pull any of the United States class carriers back, and barring them, the Forrestal''s and Kitty Hawks. And given how we still have some of the steel hulls, the Nimitz."


    Well, I was right on the money with that one. Of course, I wouldn''t exactly mind more allied carrier power. But I was guessing none had shown up yet, either.


    "With Lincoln, I suspect they think that more frequent appearances mean she''s closer to being ready for a summoning," he frowned, looking up from his piece of paper. "Not entirely sure I agree with that logic. Given how Missouri ended up arriving, there''s certainly a connection, but I''m not sure they''re going up the right tree with that one."


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    A wince went through my body. I remembered that whole mess well enough. Really early in the war too, just around when shipgirls started showing up. Especially with people''s concern about the Abyssal''s making it into Pearl Harbor proper?


    That mess was a few brave souls away from a disaster. Losing an entire state would have been a considerable blow, and likely would have given the Abyssal''s yet another stronghold in the Pacific. One that could be used as an easy location to organize attacks against the West Coast.


    "Okay, so I''ve shown you the dorms. I''ve shown you where I work, and I''ve shown you the docks. The next thing on our menu should be," he looked at my stomach as it let loose a rumble. "The mess. We should most certainly go to the mess hall."


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


    I had experience with mess halls back in Florida. But this? This was honestly more akin to a military-style food court than a mess hall. Destroyers scampered around human workers and sailors, who were, in turn, weaving their way around Battleships and carriers.


    "Maybe we should come back when there are fewer people," Lucas frowned as I pulled out my phone from my pocket, face twisting into a slight scowl. A little past noon. Peak rush hour, I''d have to imagine. Getting food was probably going to take a bit, given the lines.


    However. Well, the gurgle of my stomach was answer enough on that front. I could handle waiting in line for something to eat.


    "I''ll be fine," I shrugged. "I just need something to eat sooner rather than later. Should have brought something to snack on."


    Okay, yeah, that might be a good idea for the future. Though I''m not entirely sure how much a simple snack would do to hold over a shipgirl appetite. It''d probably take more than an apple or two. Food for thought.


    "If you say so. I''d recommend trying to arrive either an hour before or an hour after," Lucas nodded. "I mean, it''s still busy. It''s just not, you know, this busy."


    Which was, well, fair. Expecting a base of this size to be quiet was probably a bit much. Even during nighttime hours, I''d imagine things were still busy.


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


    "You know," I paused for a moment, making sure I''d swallowed all my food. "Most of the time when I eat like this, people keep giving these weird looks."


    "We''re used to it. Sure, it''s sloppy, but shipgirls do need a lot of food. So it isn''t too strange seeing you inhale your food," Lucas shrugged.


    "Inhale? Am I really eating that sloppy?" I frowned at the mostly eaten steak before me, alongside the nearly diminished side of mashed potatoes.


    "Not you, specifically, but I''ve seen it happen," he gave me a look as I raised my eyebrow. "And don''t think I''m joking about shipgirls inhaling their food. Because there are a few cases where I''m being literal."


    "You''re pulling my leg," I rolled my eyes. Shipgirl appetites were more than meme''d to death on the internet, but there was no way one could breathe in food like some type of black hole.


    Lucas merely gestured with his head to the figure that was sitting behind him at the next table over. I didn''t recognize her. I could tell she was a carrier. One of the Hornets? They both looked similar, in terms of uniform and hair color. The only reason I could tell she was a Hornet was due to her dapper suit.


    Okay, but where was he going with this? I watched, as she tilted back a bowl, full of greens, right into her mouth. My jaw must have unhinged itself in shock if the look on Lucas''s face was anything to go by.


    "Did she just drink a salad?" there was no way that just happened. That had to be the grossest violation, of I don''t know what. Whatever that was, it simply couldn''t be the domain of physics alone.


    "It''s practically the Hornet special," he chuckled, shaking his head.


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


    Our last major stop of the day. The repair baths had been exactly what I''d expected, as was where the training ammunition was stored. Just scaled-up versions of facilities I''ve already seen. Still important to know, just in case.


    "This is where the shipgirl related classes are," Lucas waved his hand. I could only stare at the building before me. It looked so, out of place. There was no way it should on a naval compound. Okay, maybe parts of it did. The flack guns on the roof saw to that.


    "They managed to fit a multi-story school onto the grounds of a naval base. I can''t even," I sighed, my hand almost reaching my face. What were they even using the multiple stories for! Just use one and be done with it!


    "It''s more efficient, in terms of space. Even if it''s less used nowadays, we had to utilize most of the floors on this thing," Lucas looked up at the top floor of the building. "Though back then it was used more for social education, rather than training for combat operations that shipgirls didn''t initially get training in."


    "Like anti-air formations and anti-submarine warfare, right?" U-boat hunting certainly went back into my day. Though I didn''t recall having any personal experience. Then again, I don''t think battleships got in on the submarine-hunting thing, even back when.


    "Correct. There is certainly more than that, though," he opened the door just enough for us to slip inside. "Though I don''t think you''ll be giving any prizes for which of those two you''re going to focus on."


    "Of course," I grinned. Anti-submarine warfare was without a doubt important and brushing up on ways to stay safe as a slow-moving target such as myself would be wise. But. I shuttered. Getting utterly trounced by planes was not an experience I cared to repeat.


    "So, do you know who''s in charge of the classes here?" my eye''s shifted over towards Lucas.


    "Well. Langley''s in charge of teaching and training the carriers, though this shouldn''t surprise anyone," he paused for a moment. "Relevant to you? Generally, any one of the Atlanta''s is at least involved in one way or another. Either directly teaching or as an assistant. Though it''s mostly San Deigo and Juneau in the latter role."


    "Battleship-wise, we do have a few of the older standards involved," Lucas frowned for a moment. "Usually, it''s a cycle depending on who''s on base at any given time, so it''s very mix and match, which I think can be said for just about all the other classes."


    "And anti-submarine warfare?" I asked, looking down towards my cousin.


    He paused for a moment. "I''m not sure on that one, honestly. One of the destroyers or light cruisers, I''d think. Maybe one of the destroyer escorts."


    "Really?" blowing his arm gently. "That doesn''t exactly inspire confidence."


    "Hey, in my defense, I haven''t been on this area of the base for quite a while," Lucas raised his arms in mock surrender. "Besides, I don''t think there''s an incredibly famous ship known for anti-submarine work. There''s New York if you believe the story of her running over a submarine, but I''m not sure how much that counts."


    That was a fair point. There were a few famous submarines, yes, but far less in the way of famous submarine killers.


    "I think most of the classrooms are empty right now, though, so think I can show you where each of the classes is," Lucas grinned, elbowing my back.


    "You can''t remember some of the teachers, but you can tell me which classroom corresponds to what class. Should I be concerned about this?"


    "Oh, you of little faith."


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


    "So, did the two of you have fun today?" Lauren smirked at her husband as he wiggled into the passenger''s side, as I stretched in the back, careful not to dent the roof.


    "Yeah, I think we had a good time," a yawn died in my throat, my body being content to stretch out a bit more.


    "Agreed. It''s good to hang out like that again. We haven''t done it in forever," Lucas turned to face me, a goofy grin on his face.


    "Well, I''m sure you''ll have more time for that in the future," Lauren grinned. "However, the kids are currently awaiting your arrival at home. I''m sure they want to spend more time with their favorite cousin as well."


    Indeed. I''d managed to get that laptop down with me for a good reason. Not exactly powerful, but it''d work for my purposes. It could handle my games, if barely. Eren would be more than willing to join me on that front.


    Music began to flutter through the air as we approached the gate.


    "We are Number 1!"


    "She''s got the mic! Floor it!"


    Hey, she''s pretty good at this. I wonder what she''ll be singing tomorrow?

 Chapter 12

    "Kathrine! Kathrine! Kathrine!" Eren and Gales voices weaved together into an indistinguishable, but a still excited mess.


    "I wonder what''s got them this worked up?" Lauren grinned as both teenagers bounded out of the door at top speed. We hadn''t even come to a complete stop by the time they surrounded the car, bouncing up and down in excitement.


    "Something tells me it isn''t because they''re happy to see me," I chuckled, stepping out of the car from the backseat. Of course, given how Eren had grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back towards the open door.


    "Have you seen it? Have you seen it?" her voice rang in my ears.


    "Seen what?" Lucas frowned, trying to keep up as Gale had joined his sister''s frantic attempt to pull me inside. I shrugged about as well as I could manage. If I didn''t know any better, it was probably shipgirl related.


    "You haven''t? It''s all over the internet, a bit of the news, too," Gale''s voice sounded completely incredulous.


    "I haven''t been around a computer since this morning," I frowned, turning towards Lucas and Lauren. He''d been with me the whole day, so he wouldn''t know. And Lauren looked just as confused as I was about whatever this was. So they didn''t know.


    "It''s all over the shipgirl circles right now. It''s got a lot of people freaking out. In a good way, of course," Eren finally managed to bring me through the front door, her parents following behind. I heard it latch behind us, which was good. They weren''t paying to cool the outdoors, after all.


    After a swift detour through the kitchen, we finally arrived in the living room, where Eren''s laptop sat on a vacant chair.


    "Watch".


    What stuck out first was the poor quality. Very blurry, likely taken from a cell phone camera of some kind. Then the language. It was a tickle on the back of my memory. Or Kansas''s memory. Japanese, I think? I wasn''t quite sure.


    Of course, the lackluster quality didn''t matter for too long as the camera turned towards a ship. Was that? Even if the shape wasn''t familiar, the position of the guns would have made it painfully clear. There was only one steel hull pre-dreadnaught left in the world.


    Mikasa.


    Though, nothing seemed too out of place. At least, not enough for Eren and Gale''s level of excitement at our arrival.


    That was before the shouting began to intensify in the background. Then Mikasa''s hull began to glow.


    It started faint, but it quickly built up. Not quite bright enough to be a sun, but more than enough, that even though the video, I was forced to avert my eyes. And just as it began to brighten, it began to dim.


    Then, the cycle began to repeat. Slow. But ominous. As if something was coming. But eventually, the light died, fading for good. Maybe? Sure, it had stopped. For now. And that was not me being ominous myself. For now, was the best description I had for that. Something inside me just felt like this was just the beginning. Of what? I wasn''t sure on that front, though if I had to make a hypothesis, Mikasa was trying to wake up.


    Of course, I was in no position to even try to test this hypothesis. Nor did I know how to test it. Besides, Japan was probably on it by now.


    "That''s, odd. A steel hull has never done that before," Lucas frowned, finger rubbing the underside of his chin. "Not even during summoning did we get anything like that."


    "Maybe it''s because she''s an older ship?" Lauren frowned as well, as Eren and Gale''s eyes remained fixed on me.


    "I don''t know. Maybe? She''s pretty close to Yokosuka, right? So that might be it?" I shrugged. Honestly? I had no clue on that front. "I do have a feeling she''s trying to wake up, but I don''t really have anything more concrete."


    "We can speculate all we want, sadly, but I don''t think it''ll change much," Lucas shook his head. "She''s on the other side of the Pacific, after all. I''m sure the Japanese Navy is already investigating."


    Yeah, that was fair. Of course, Japan''s Naval force would be looking into such an event. I just hoped everything turned out alright.


    Plus, it was about time a pre-dreadnought actually started doing things. The fact I''m so far the only one that''s managed to come back was kind of offputting, honestly.


    Where exactly were they?


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


    There were still a few days before I headed off to regular school. Days I intended to make as much use of as possible. Afterward, I would certainly spend time at the base, but studying was important too. Studying was important, and I really hadn''t been operating as much off of memory at school like I once had been. Plus, I was now at a completely different school, what memories I had about the first round of high school was pretty much null and void.


    I mean, no beating around the bush. There were education programs for shipgirls, well into college, if I understood it correctly. So it wasn''t like I was going to throw away that opportunity, even if I didn''t have an idea what I wanted to do. To do otherwise just seemed wasteful, even if I''ve already done the whole dog and pony show once before. Because degrees don''t transfer over lifetimes, after all.


    But that wasn''t what was important right now.


    "How are you still able to launch airstrikes? You''ve sunken three enemy ships and you''re still able to throw out max plane strikes?" Eren could be heard over the clicking of her keys and mouse.


    "I told you. Shipgirl magic. There''s no other explanation of why she''s this good," Gale added in, shaking his head from behind the screen of his laptop.


    "Oh, you two of little faith. I''ve been playing games for quite a while," that was an understatement of the century. "You really think I need magic to be as good as I am at this game?"


    Honestly, I wasn''t even that good, to begin with. Decidedly mediocre was probably the best way to place my skill cap at it. Not bad, just not good, either. I was just really good at keeping my planes alive. Wasting them needlessly did nothing but give the enemy team more points, after all, and put me at a disadvantage later on.


    "So, are we queuing up for another match? Ideally without Kathrine in our carrier slot?" I stuck out my tongue at Eren, though she swiftly returned the favor.


    "Sadly, I think it''s getting a bit late," Gale let out a yawn. "If the two of you want to stay up, I won''t stop you, but mom might."


    I looked down at my phone. For a school night, it certainly was getting around that time. Of course, I would be getting up fairly early too, and jet lag was still a thing. My body let out a creaking sound as I stretched on the floor. Gale was right. It''d be best to just call it quits for the night.


    "You''re no fun," Eren frowned, turning towards me.


    "Maybe. But he also isn''t wrong, either," exiting out of the game, I stretched even more. "Besides, it''s not like we have the luxury of sleeping in."


    "Fine!" Eren let out a grown. "You two are no fun."


    "More like I understand the power of a good night''s sleep," I grinned. There was a reason I survived college without a single drop of coffee. Or caffeine in general, for that matter. A record I intended to keep, even if the only person keeping score was me.


    "You sound like mom," her eyes rolled, and I chuckled.


    "And? It''s not like she''s wrong," my parents should be thankful. I never really protested things like bedtimes. Well, not to their faces, at any rate. Sneaking a Gameboy or similar device under my pillow to play at night was something I did quite frequently.


    "Come on, Eren, you know Kathrine is the only person in the world that refuses to touch caffeine. She''s going to get tuckered out faster than most," Gale snickered, elbowing his sister in the arm.


    "Are you? Challenging me?" I raised my eyebrow about as far as it would go. Was he trying to imply as was some sort of lightweight? Oh, no no no. That wouldn''t do at all. Just because I understood the importance of sleep, didn''t mean I couldn''t pull an all-nighter if I absolutely had to.


    "Maybe?" he paused, almost if pondering his mistake. Then his face grew into a very smug expression. "Do you really think you can stay up all night?"


    "I pulled up two all-nighters back to back," I wasn''t lying, though I''d wiped myself out doing so. "Tell you what. If you really want to see, I suppose we can find a day when our schedules align and we won''t have to worry about sleep."


    The siblings looked at each other as if telepathically conversing with one another.


    "That does sound fun," Gale hummed, tapping his fingers against his laptop.


    "I think you have yourself a deal," Eren grinned, her fingers tapping against themselves in an imitation of Bond villain.


    "Excellent choice, with the," I mimicked the movement. "It''s a classic."


    "A classic? A classic from where?" Eren paused.


    Right. Lucas married into the family without showing them classic movies like Star Wars. I was going to have to rectify that at some point.


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


    "We are number one!"


    "Is she always singing that?" I looked at San Deigo, once again on her stage, as we speed past.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    "Yes," the married couple groaned.


    Okay, now their reactions made more sense. Yeah, that would probably get very annoying. Day after day, for possibly years. Though, as a light cruiser, she couldn''t be on base all the time. Right? She had a very impressive service record, after all. So it''s not like she could be this goofy constantly. Right?


    Right?


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


    "I was hoping a few more would show up," Atlanta stood at the front of the room, as I turned from my position near the front of the room.


    Nearly empty. Lucas wasn''t kidding about how these rooms don''t get as much use anymore. The perks of being late? I guess?


    It wasn''t like one-on-one instruction was a bad thing. Honestly, it meant a teacher could spend all of their attention on a single student. Not always needed, but it couldn''t do any harm, either.


    There were at least a few others, though. One was a carrier of some sort. She seemed shorter than several of the others I''d meet so far, so probably a light or escort carrier of some sort. Certainly taller than Langley, though. Her hair had a silvery color to it, which wasn''t that weird compared to Langley''s green.


    Which put her in contrast with the other student. She had to be a destroyer of some classification. Her frame and guns gave that much away, at any rate. Beyond that? I had no idea.


    Maybe I should start putting in some research. It might help me at least recognize who I was talking to. Then again, in the case of the Fletchers, I don''t think a lot I could do on that front would matter. Having nearly two hundred siblings had to be an utter nightmare. Especially when someone tries to factor in how many Fletcher''s could end up as natural borns, bringing in even more extended family into the fray. You''d need to rent a stadium or massive banquet hall to get every single one of them together at once.


    That''s an ouch, no matter how you want to slice it. Birthday/launch day parties, alongside, well, every holiday ever, would be positively hellish. And that was putting mildly. I could already see my five new sisters causing problems at family gatherings just simply with volume.


    "Very well," Atlanta''s voice broke me out of my thoughts as she began to jot on the board with chalk. Weird. I''ve never actually seen someone write on a chalkboard before. Back at home, we had projectors and whiteboards. Maybe it just felt right for her? I wouldn''t fault someone for that.


    I quickly pulled out my pin, glancing down at the three-ring bind that occupied my desk. What type of student would I be if I didn''t intend to take notes? It certainly helped me focus, at any rate.


    "Given how we have two new faces," my eyes flicked upward towards the board, with ''Anti-Air 101'' written at the top of the chalkboard, surrounded by a square. The huff behind me and to the right meant that the carrier was the recurring face. Reluctantly, at that. "We will be starting at the absolute basics."


    I bit my lip as a dull thud echoed from the desk of the carrier, her groan only confirming that she had smacked her head against it. No doubt intentionally. What was that about?


    "And given how we have a pre-dreadnought in our midst for the first time," my gaze went from the board to Atlanta in a heartbeat, but she was wearing the same expression, one that was very blank, almost expressionless. No, expressionless wasn''t quite the word I was looking for either. More along the lines of someone who''s probably been at this a bit too long.


    The carrier behind me continued to bang her head against the desk before her. Okay, now I was curious what exactly her deal was.


    "We would have started there, regardless. Now, keep your head up," Atlanta frowned, before fully turning to face the board. "We have a lot to cover."


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


    And she was not wrong. There was a lot to cover, even on a basic tactical level. There wasn''t a lot of complexity mirroring the carrier''s evasion pattern so you could continue to fire your anti-air guns. Of course, that was in theory, rather than the heat of battle with bombers streaking overhead. And I''d already had enough experience with those for the time being.


    Then came the guns. For once, I was almost happy for my nearly none existent anti-air. At least I was skipping guns like the Chicago Pino for weapons such as the Orliken and Bofors. At least there was some silver lining on that front.


    Still, Atlanta made it sound as if shooting down an aircraft was a form of art. Then again, given her six twin-five-inch guns, on top of who knows how many other, smaller, anti-aircraft batteries, it probably was.


    Still, it felt like I was missing something. Something wasn''t just clicking, snapping into place in my head. It wasn''t like I didn''t understand it. Use anti-aircraft guns to protect the carrier with a multi-layered defense. It was just, I don''t know. I could picture it in my mind. But the problem was it was static. Lacking motion, and in a battle, that motion would be kind of important. Like the difference between learning about something in theory, and actually, well, practicing it.


    Well. That does kind of answer that question, doesn''t it? Which was sadly compounded by the fact that if I read Admiral Jeffery correctly, he didn''t want me to practice until after I had my retrofit. And honestly? It kind of made sense. I wasn''t supposed to see combat until I was 18 years old, which gave them plenty of time to work out exactly what they wanted to do with said retrofit. Practicing now might result in bad habits that were hard to break later down the line. Given how my current anti-aircraft weapons were meant more as a stopgap measure, and by no means the finished product?


    Frustrating, but it made sense. Made slightly more frustrating by the fact it made sense.


    Still, Atlanta was very enlightening on the subject. That alone was more than enough.


    "That shall be all for the day, I think," Atlanta came to a close. "Lunch hour begins in thirty minutes, meaning the lunch rush started a half-hour ago."


    Wait? What? It was close to noon? My stomach released a none too subtle gurgle, almost as if to signal it, yes, it was in fact, noon. A glance at the clock only confirmed this. We''d arrived at the same time we had yesterday, which was fairly early, but damn. The hours felt as if they had flown right by.


    Didn''t even have time for a snack, either. I''d packed a few things for today simply for that very reason. Unfortunately, but that was the way of the world. Sometimes you get your apple and cinnamon snips, others you get nothing but an empty stomach.


    Well, there was certainly nothing I could do about it now. Eating now would just ruin my appetite for lunch. Actually, would it really? Probably best not to risk it though. Still, I''ll keep what I had on hand for the afternoon, and if it didn''t get used then, there was always tomorrow. An apple wasn''t going to go bad in a single day, and I made sure to take extra care with the cinnamon snips to make sure they didn''t end up getting crushed.


    By the time I''d started gathering my things, the carrier was already out the door, a near blur of silver hair being the only evidence she had been there at all. That and the dent in her table. That didn''t look good. Wasn''t that punishable or something? Defacing or damaging property like that? Especially military property? No wonder why she was in classes.


    After a brief moment to get my notebook into my hull and somewhere under lock and key, I watched as the destroyer went up to Atlanta, before bowing.


    That was, something I''d seen before. I used to do martial arts in my previous life. A sign of respect to one''s teacher. It, well, surprised me, to be honest. I certainly hadn''t expected such a display here, of all places. Directed at Atlanta, of all people. Her mouth twitched slightly, almost the beginnings of a frown, but by that point, the destroyer had scampered out the door as well.


    "Thank you," I nodded in appreciation as I appoarched.


    "I saw you taking notes. Yet, your notebooks are gone," Atlanta''s mouth curved slightly upward, almost unnoticeable. "Most natural borns take a while to pick up on that little trick."


    "Really?" I shrugged. "It just seems so convenient, and at the same time, logical. I mean, we''re also ships now, so shouldn''t we be able to place objects in our hulls?"


    "But you still carry a lunchbox," she pointed down at the container in my hand. "Why is that?"


    "Because if it was just as simple as placing food and fuel in our hulls, then why would we need to eat?" Atlanta paused at my statement, for a moment, before the twitch in her lips turned into the start of a proper grin.


    "You. You I like. You actually think about the weird questions," Atlanta chuckled. "Still, you should probably hurry along. The mess will be crowded enough as is. It''ll get worse the longer you daddle. Though I do hope to see you in class in the future."


    "I intend to, ma''am," I grinned, taking her advice. I wasn''t exactly in a hurry. Honestly, it probably wouldn''t change that much in the grand scheme.


    "Don''t you ma''am me! You''re the older one!"

 Chapter 13

    "How many scrambled eggs is that, again?" Lucas looked at my plate, which was covered in a mass of yellow.


    "Four. I think. Or was it five?" Honestly, it was probably closer to six. Today was a big day, after all.


    "Exactly how much protein is that?" I frowned, looking down at it.


    "Yes?"


    "That''s not an answer, but I see your point," Lucas let out a sigh. Without military funding, I would probably be eating them out of house and home. And they already had two more black holes in the wings, one in puberty and the other on the near cusp of it.


    "Are those pop tarts under there?" he paused, raising an eyebrow. I only gave a slight grin in response. "You are a bottomless pit."


    "If I''m a bottomless pit, what does that make your children?" I chuckled, causing Lucas to let out a snort.


    "Sassy today, aren''t you?" he shook his head. "Stressed or something?"


    "First day at a new school, halfway across the country," I managed to get out between spoonfuls. "Of course I''m stressed."


    "Relax," Lucas patted my back. "You''ll be fine. I''ve heard plenty of great things about the place, and besides, you won''t be the only shipgirl there, either."


    I knew things were going to be just fine. That it was just my anxiousness and never getting to me, rather than a sign things were going to go wrong. But it''s just one of those things, that worms its way into the back of her head, like a dark whisper that only you can hear. It wasn''t like I wasn''t used to doubt whispering in my ear, either.


    "I know, I know," I waved the feeling off. "You know how I get sometimes. I''ll get over it pretty quickly."


    "That you will. Besides, I''m willing to bet your parents will try to call you sometime after you get out of class. They''ll probably want to ask about how your day went," Lucas picked up one of the remaining plates at the table, putting it into the dishwasher.


    "Of course they will," I grinned. I tried sending them both a text at least once a week, so it wasn''t like I was out of touch.


    "You have to be the only kid your age that doesn''t mind talking to your parents like that. Last I heard, your brother was busy being a little fart about spending time with them," Lucas frowned, turning back around.


    "What can I say? I got through all my teenage angst early," I shrugged, shoveling a few more bits of eggs as my eyes flicked towards the clock. Still a few more minutes before I had to get out the door.


    "Early? You didn''t have any angst in the slightest! I mean, you got quiet and moody a few years during Elementary School, but you otherwise mellowed out," Lucas chuckled.


    "That''s what I mean by I out all my teenage angst out of the way early," I cracked a grin myself. Beyond that brief period in Middle School, which nothing had prepared me for, well, that. So I didn''t exactly blame myself for taking that whole, thing, rather poorly. There was nothing in the world that could prepare anyone for that. Especially someone who never had to deal with it in the first fight to the death with puberty.


    "If only all parents could be so blessed," I kind of had to roll my eyes on that one. That was certainly neither here nor there. My brother was always going to be a bit of a pain, and I saw no reason to act like the stereotypical teenager.


    "Besides, the bus will be here in a few minutes, so," Lucas gestured back upstairs.


    "You really think I was going to head to school for the first time without brushing my teeth? Are you insane? I''m not trying to speedrun becoming a social pariah or anything," I grinned, taking the stairs two at a time. Which was something I stood a decent chance of getting away with, these days. Before now, I usually ran the risk of tripping up the stairs. Not anymore! With my longer legs, I could spring up two at a time, no problem! Unless.


    My foot landed slightly off, landing a bit too close to the step''s edge before it slipped clean off. My forward moment was too much for me to stop. I couldn''t stop myself. In a moment, my arms pushed forward, half-remember instinct put into a falling technique, all in a desperate hope to arrest my forward fall.


    My arms out, forearm, and hands making a triangle to distribute the force of the impact. There was just one problem. One tiny, but largely significant problem.


    This falling technique was made for flat surfaces. Not stairs. So instead of hitting the ground and distributing the force, I got two sharp points of impact along each arm, causing me to hiss in pain.


    "Son of a donkey," I muttered under my breath, pushing myself back onto my feet. Looking down at it, I winced. Still, it probably wasn''t going to bruise. Just hurt for a little while.


    "As my kids say, can you please stop yeeting yourself up the stairs," Lucas tried to sound stern, but I knew without a doubt he had recorded the whole incident. Either to show off at family gatherings or just to show my parents at some point in the future. "Also, langue, young lady. I know your parents wouldn''t approve of that talk."


    "Really? I''m not that young," I rolled my arms, taking the steps one at a time. For the stairs were treacherous little gremlins, and I''d get them eventually.


    "Yes Ma''am," Lucas snickered, shaking his head.


    "Don''t you start with this Ma''am nonsense! I work for a living," I peeked my head around the corner as I headed towards the bathroom to finally get my teeth brushed. Lucas was in absolute stitches, clutching his sides like they were a lifeline.


    "Not right now you don''t!"


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


    This was. Well. Big. I hadn''t been expecting a stereotypical school by any stretch. Everyone''s seen it in some form or fashion. Stairs to the front door, the multiple levels full of classrooms, flag pole just right out front. Most schools weren''t like that at all. And this one?


    Was no exception. But compared to my old school? Even with the outbreak of the Abyssal war, none of them saw any major change. Sure, there were bunkers added in, layouts tweaked to be more efficient, that sort of thing. But it had all been, minor. Almost unnoticeable. For most students, there probably wasn''t much to notice.


    But that was in the interior of the country. And while I certainly wouldn''t say the school looked like a bunker, it certainly had this fortified look to it. Not an obvious one, that would send the wrong message, but I certainly picked up on it.


    "Sup, new girl," I felt someone elbow me in the arm, bringing me out of my daze. I looked over towards the offender, a girl with snow-white hair and dark skin. There was a faint flicker about her, like a faint mirage. It was like back at base, around other shipgirls. But, foggier. She was, unawakened, then?


    "Dang, are you okay? Zoning out like that already, new girl?" she chuckled to herself. I shook my head. Right now, I kind of had bigger problems to deal with than an unknown ship being the first person I meet.


    "Sorry. You don''t exactly see schools built like this in the Midwest," I turned back towards the building slightly. Of course, I had no hope of finding the Principal''s office out here, so it was probably time to get a move on.


    "Oh, I understand that completely. It was quite the shock seeing this place for the first time, myself," she grinned, flashing her teeth. That''s odd. Must have been a trick of the light. Though I could have sworn that there was a skateboard sticking out of her backpack just a moment ago.


    "I can show you the Principal''s Office if you want. This place is a bit of a maze if you aren''t used to it," I paused for a moment, considering her offer. She did know the way, after all, if she''d been here a while. Plus, she could point out other important rooms and locations within the school.


    "Well, it would be quite rude of me to refuse," I faked a little curtsy, grinning as I went, which earned me a howl of laughter.


    "That does not suit you at all, new girl," she managed to wheeze out, voice slowly evening out. "My name is Anong. I''m assuming you got one of your own, new girl?"


    "My name is Kathrine. It''s nice to meet you, Anong," I paused for a moment. Did I get that right? I certainly hope so.


    "Kathrine? That''s a pretty big name, new girl," Anong hummed for a moment, before snickering. Really? Was ''new girl'' just my nickname now? "And you butchered it, by the way. Most people just call me Ann for a reason."


    "No, no, I''m going to get this right. Even if my tongue wants to kill me for it, I will pronounce your name right," I frowned. Anong. Anong. Anong. Over and over, I went over it in my mind, trying to get the pronunciation down just right.


    "I like your moxie, new girl. But we should hurry up. Don''t want you to be late, after all."


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


    Anong, whose name I was doubtlessly still getting terribly wrong, dragged me through the halls at top speed. Maybe dragged was the wrong word. But that didn''t stop her from pulling me through the crowded hallways, the throng of people parting like the Red Sea. It was almost as if they were used to getting out of her way, as I couldn''t help but notice the puzzled glances. Not ones sent towards her, but the ones sent towards me. So some part of this was at least a regular occurrence.


    "And here we are!" Anong shouted as we came to a screeching halt. I nearly tumbled over, forward momentum still applying to me, but I managed to stop myself from tumbling over.


    "Thanks, Anong," I rubbed the back of my head. I hadn''t quite expected something like that, rushing through the halls at nearly the speed of sound. Not like anyone could expect that.


    "No problem, new girl! I''ll see you around sometime, okay?" and then she was off, a blur of motion right down the hall. Was that how I looked just a few seconds ago?


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Well, it certainly didn''t take long for weird shipgirl stuff to find its way to me. Maybe it works like magnates? Probably would be my guess. Alright. It''s time to do this. I knocked firmly, but gently, on the door, three times, before stopping. For a moment, there were only slight reverberations, echo''s bouncing off the halls.


    "Come in," a woman''s voice came from the other side, as I slowly pushed open the door. Part of me had been expecting another shipgirl. It would just be my luck, after all, and honestly, it kind of made sense. I was here. Then there was Anong, who was a warship in some form. If there were at least two, there had to be more. And if there were two, it might be good to have a shipgirl in charge to help bring down the boot as needed.


    But then again, there would probably be issues with that, I''d imagine. Plus, keeping one ship out of the field could be problematic, especially for something like this. It wouldn''t surprise me if the Navy was certainly keeping an eye on the place though. Antics were okay, as I understood it, but things could be taken too far.


    "Welcome. You must be Kathrine," she offered me her hand, partially standing up from behind the desk. "My name is Principal Williams."


    That name was fairly masculine as far as last names go, but on that front, it was hardly worth noting. There were quite a few other things that were a much greater draw on my attention. Towards the back wall, I saw a few medals and trophies, most of them having to do with her old high school accomplishments. But that had nothing on the row of medals in a small case, facing towards the door.


    Those were all military medals and honors. Even a purple heart. So she was a veteran, no doubt about it. And depending on the injury, it would go far to explain her age. She didn''t look too old, at least, no older than late thirties to early forties at worst. Though that just simply being a case of good genes wasn''t wholly out of the question.


    "Thank you," I shook her hand in return. Her grip was quite firm but warm in a sense. "It''s very nice to be here."


    "I see you''ve already met my sister-in-law," she smiled a bit, as I paused. Sister-in-law? Anong was the only person I met here so far, which meant she was the only real option. Unless she was talking about someone back on the naval base. But that opened things up to a whole lot more people.


    "Anong?" I guessed, lips twitching into a slight frown. There just weren''t a whole lot of specific options on that front. It had to be at least someone she expected me to know. She grinned slightly, nodding as she turned around a picture that I just now noticed was facing the other way. There were two people in the frame. One, was, of course, Principal Williams. The other.


    I frowned. Her face looked familiar. Long pink hair wasn''t unheard of when it came to American shipgirls, Lexington being the first that came to mind. But it wasn''t exactly a common trait, either. And I knew Lexington''s face well enough to know that the other girl standing in the photo wasn''t Lexington.


    So who was it? Was that? Quincy? I mean, the hair was certainly on point, being well past shoulder length, as was the color. She wasn''t often seen without a red bow in her hair, but given the occasion being photographed, a white one would be far from out of the equation.


    But, if Principal Williams was married to Quincy, then that would mean Anong was a New Orleans class cruiser?


    "Congratulations. Both on your marriage and your service," I offered, working on getting all this new information stored away. I wasn''t aware that Quincy got married. I either must have missed the news, or completely forgotten it. Which was strange. Even if it was just keeping tags on shipgirls as a whole, I should have gotten such news. Maybe I just filed it away as gossip and never bothered to remember it.


    "Thank you," she paused for a moment as if collecting herself. "Once again, I must formally welcome you to this school. I''m sure you''ve come quite a long way. Halfway across the country, in fact, if your paperwork is correct."


    I nodded. Of course, it wasn''t like the navy, or my parents, for that matter, were going to get that wrong. Of course, it was this whole thing of transcripts, getting those ordered and signed off, alongside everything else. I would have done it myself, but my parents insisted on it. Honestly, that wasn''t an argument I was willing to have.


    "We''ve managed to get your schedule put together," a piece of paper came across the table. Yes. Schedules. Back in college, you got to design your workload. What times you didn''t want to be in class, which classes you wanted to take, and when. High school was sort of similar, or at least, mine was. But there were far fewer options, classes were shorter, and you took them all back to back.


    "It''s temporary, of course. If you want something changed, all you would need to do is speak with me. We''ve made sure that all classes you were taking at your old school are matched with courses that best fit from our own," Principal William reassured, as I looked over the paper.


    Well, I wasn''t going to the specialty program during the morning hours like last time, so they didn''t have to spend time finding an alternative to that, at least. I could only imagine the havoc that could have wrought. Doubly so for the band. A new person transferring in could prove to be a nightmare, though it would be a nice way to meet people.


    So, what did that give me? English was first. A bit early in the morning, but that was workable. Lunch was right at the start of History class. It was best to have lunch at the beginning or end of a class period. That way the lecture wouldn''t be interrupted, which could cause problems. Computer classes were not long afterward. At least it was simple programming languages. Math was in the last period, rounding out the day. Which was fine.


    The only oddity I could find is that replacing one of my classes was a study break. One was fine. I could work with that. But two? That was a bit excessive. So what had been cut? I had English, Biology, Geology, History, Programming, and Math, which meant. Really? Did my Foreign Language not make the cut? How?


    "I''m missing," I pointed out on the sheet. She winced slightly.


    "I''m sorry, but we don''t have a Latin Class here," she looked quite apologetic. I bit on my lip, holding back a sigh. That was, annoying. I''d put a lot of effort into that class, actually intending to get through four years of it, instead of throwing in the towel at just one. That was a lot of sweat and effort down the drain. But life is just like that sometimes.


    "It''s fine," honestly, something like a Latin teacher would probably be in short supply in the best of times. Let alone this one. "I just have to ask if the credits still transferred over?"


    Principal William''s nod did bring a sigh of relief. Good. If they hadn''t, I''d be a bit more concerned. Still, it wasn''t like I couldn''t put the open period to good use. Extra study time wasn''t exactly a bad thing. Maybe this will end up as a blessing in disguise? Maybe. I''d still probably want to look for something to fill that spot though. It wouldn''t be good if the time just simply ended up being wasted, either.


    "Can you give me a list of available course''s so I can look it over when I have the time?" I questioned, looking up from my new schedule.


    "Sure," Principal Williams handed a small yellow packet, alongside a smaller sheet of paper. Oh, login information for my new school personal account. That was useful. I''d have to stick it someplace I''d remember and try and get it memorized. Until then, losing track of it wasn''t going to be an option.


    "Thank you," I quickly stuck both pieces of paper into my binder, keeping my schedule on hand. I''d elected to take a backpack to school. While probably a few people knew my face at this point, there was no real need to announce that I was a shipgirl at the top of my lungs to the entire class by pulling stuff out of my hull. While it certainly would be easier than the whole, lugging around my books thing, it wasn''t worth the convenience on that front.


    "I''ll give you a brief tour of our school. After all, it''s not every day we get a new student like this," Principal Williams stood up, and I quickly followed her out the door. It was impressive how much prosthetics technology had improved over the years.


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


    What time was it again? Vestal blinked, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to fight away the sleep. It was, damn, I''ve spent way too many days awake, o''clock, just like when she last looked.


    Still, it was done. Well, not done, done. But it was close enough. Sure, they''d have to run tests, minimizing the chances of a nasty surprise, but this was it. This was as good as they were going to get, without some type of crazy redesign that would break several national banks.


    Would some kinks needed to be worked out? Sure. Probably. But those could be dealt with during training and work up. Still, she should probably call Kathrine and tell her the good news.


    She was, forgetting something. Today was, Sunday? No, Monday. Today was definitely Monday. Which meant, Kathrine would be at school? Right? Probably? If that was the case, it was probably best to wait until after. That would give Vestal time to sleep then. After all, Kathrine would positively ecstatic. No need to distract Kathrine on her first day of school.


    She just needed to submit the design for final approval. Vestal could certainly do that. Right after this nap.

 Chapter 14

    English, was, alright, I suppose. In my previous life, writing was something I a bit of, completely at the hobbyist level, admittedly. While doing so certainly helped my grades in the class, I hadn''t done much of it this time around. Not too different from my old school, either.


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


    The wonders of free time. Given this early in the day when there was hardly any homework to be done? What exactly were they thinking? At least I knew how to keep myself busy and out of trouble.


    Mostly browsing through the limited school internet access. Honestly, I was more than tempted to just continue with Latin as was. I''d sunk a lot of time into it, and dropping it now for any reason just seemed wasteful. However, that option was not without flaws.


    Major among them being my foreign language skills were, well. Positively awful. Part of the reason I took it was up until that point, Spanish had been the only choice open, and I was terrible on that front, too. The only foreign language classes I ever passed with any degree of grace were my college sign language courses. And that was still very much within the sphere of the English lexicon.


    Sure, I had a grasp on sentence structure, and most of the prefix''s and suffix''s, with their respective genders, that dominated Latin written language by this point. It was the simple fact I had nobody to spot check me, to be frank. Especially given how our class didn''t just read Latin. Our teacher wanted us to be able to speak it too.


    Yeah, calling Latin a ''dead language in her presence was the equivalent of setting off a nuke. A straight-up real-life berserker button if ever I''ve seen one. Still a good teacher though. I wouldn''t have gotten nearly as far without her help as I had. Maybe she''d still be willing to help me self-teach?


    I''d have to put a pin in that one. Probably a long shot at the end of the day, but putting in the effort to at least reach out and find a solution would be worth it. Once I had an answer, I would be able to plan things out a whole lot better.


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


    Where exactly was I going to sit? This wasn''t typically a question I''d have to ask myself. Usually, there were at least a few people in my friend group somewhere during lunch that I would hang out with. It was oftentimes just a matter of finding them. Or them finding me, in some cases.


    Being in a new school made that considerably difficult. Anong was so far the only student I talked with for any length of time. As for everyone else? I hadn''t exactly gone out of my way to talk to many people. Everyone seemed to be set up in their groups as was. But it wasn''t like anyone was approaching me, either. Honestly, it felt like more than a few people were avoiding me. Maybe I was being paranoid? I didn''t tend to put much stock in gossip, but being able to ignore it entirely? Sure, I''d only heard little snips and bits of information.


    It was enough, however, and somewhat enlightening. I''d kind of hoped to fall into the background when it came to shipgirls. We Conneticuts didn''t do a whole lot during our lives. Sure, there were some operations during the First World War and the lead-up to that, alongside the military actions in Mexico. But as warships? Ironically enough, what we were most known for was being part of the Great White Fleet.


    Yes, that fell under Teddy ''speak softly and carry a big stick'' Roosevelt, but that was, at the end of the day, a peacetime operation. But beyond that? The simple lack of reputation alone made me hope I could simply slip under the radar. Even with my disastrous appearance making national news, it''d die down, eventually. Holding the status of first returned Pre-Dreadnaught shouldn''t be that much more of a reputation booster.


    But that didn''t seem to be happening. So much for that idea.


    Or maybe I was being overly paranoid. That certainly was possible. But that didn''t change the fact I needed a place to sit.


    "Hey! New Girl!" a familiar voice rang out from nearly the other side of the cafeteria. I noted more than a few people nearby were clutching their ears against their skulls, speaking to the sheer volume of Anong''s voice. Hey, she had to get it above the noise somehow.


    Navigating my way through the throng of people, I finally made my way through to the table. One comprised entirely of girls, I briefly noted, though it would explain all the sparkling aura''s around everyone there. Hulls. It was impossible to tell exactly which ship was who. There was a static there. A fog. Anong was a little better on that front, compared to this morning, where I hadn''t been able to tell that she was a cruiser at all.


    Except for one girl. She was tall, taller than I was, with most of her hair being a deep brown, past shoulder length. There were two pink streaks in her hair, coming down around her face. Dyed? Or was it natural? Given shipgirl hair colors, either could be the case. Her hull was clear as day, but beyond that? Four twin turrets were kind of an oddity among American battleships. The Colorado''s spring to mind, first and foremost, but that was about it.


    But that didn''t feel entirely right. Just, something in my gut told me she wasn''t a Colorado. Was it the pink hair? Yeah, that was probably it.


    "Thank you, Anong," I smiled towards Anong. I was quite thankful, and I meant every single bit of it.


    "No problem. After all, we shipgirls should stick together," Anong wiggled her eyebrows a bit, before letting out a hearty laugh.


    "So, you must be Kathrine," one of the girls, managing to get her words in under Anong''s cackling. She was quite a bit shorter compared to everyone else at the table, with blonde hair and green eyes. I''d almost describe the girl as a mouse.


    I am. And may I ask for your name?" I asked, meeting her gaze. She cracked a small grin.


    "Laura. I''m one of the Fletchers," which would explain her stature. Then again, I''d been pretty tiny myself before I woke up, so that probably wasn''t all there was to it. "Nobody is sure exactly which one yet. There''s still a dozen or so that have either been born naturally or simply haven''t been summoned yet."


    A dozen out of the nearly two hundred ships that comprised the class wasn''t exactly what I''d consider bad numbers. But that was potentially a whole lot of extended family just popping up out the middle of nowhere if every single one of that unsummoned dozen had been reincarnated.


    "As for everyone else," Laura stated, waving her hands to the person next to her, signaling them to take over.


    "Jesica," said the girl with long black hair and almost ghostly skin. Her hair matched her dress, just as dark. I would almost describe her as goth. But she seemed to lack the makeup or piercings that most people would consider goth. "Not exactly sure what ship I am, to be honest. Nobody has recognized me yet, anyway."


    "I''m sure someone will soon," I offered, trying to sound comforting. That kind of sucked, to be honest. One of kind ships weren''t exactly unheard of. Many unbuilt ship classes ended up being one-offs, like Georgia, for example. But hopefully, that wasn''t the case. Sadly, all Jesica did was roll her eyes, returning to her meal.


    "Yeah, that''s always been a bit of a sore spot for her," another girl whispered on my right, nearly causing me to jolt out of my seat.


    "That''s Amelia. She''s one of the submarines," Laura let out a sigh, as Anong and Amellia high-fived each other, laughing. That would explain the whole stealth bit, though it did nothing to explain where she came from. I didn''t have sonar, sure. But if she wasn''t awakened in the first place, then how would she be that sneaking in the first place.


    You know what? Probably not worth thinking about for too long. Based on hearsay, submarines were generally attention-seeking. How exactly tended to vary nation to nation, at least from what I''ve heard. Which, honestly, given how a lot of nations treated their submarine cores back during the war? Not entirely sure I could blame them for trying to get attention however they could.


    Amelia was fairly short, too. Taller than Laura, though that wasn''t saying much. She was the only one of us that was blonde, even it if was strawberry blonde, nearly a faint red. I paused, smelling the air. She wreaked of chlorine, as if she''d spent hours upon hours in a pool. Was she on the swim team or something? Because that honestly sounds like cheating. Even if she wasn''t fully awake yet.


    "Nice to meet you!" Amelia turned around, offering me her hand. Was it worth taking it? I didn''t want to seem rude or anything, but the girl had already surprised me once. For all I knew, she could have one of those hand buzzers. The ones that shock you when you shake someone''s hand? The ones the Joker used in those Batman cartoons? I think it was the Joker.


    Slowly, carefully, making sure to not only keep my eyes on Amelia but also the others, keeping a careful watch on their facial expressions. If they knew how this was going to end up going, they certainly didn''t show it. I wouldn''t be playing poker with this lot, that''s for damn sure.


    Still, my hand inched forward, doing my best to make it abundantly clear that if this was, in fact, a trick? That I could easily, well, I wasn''t entirely sure what I''d do. After all, it was probably only a prank at absolute worst, so physical harm was just excessive, and quite frankly, uncalled for. But I''d do something.


    Finally, my hand clasped around hers, Amelia''s grasp fairly strong despite her small hands.


    "Nice," she grinned, before releasing my hand. "And that over there is the worst coincidence when it comes to human-to-ship names, even worse off than you, Connie!"


    Amelia waved her hands in the air, seeming to take over instructions from Laura, much to the reborn destroyer''s dismay.


    "Hey! I was going to introduce her!" Laura barked out, as the destroyer and submarine began to bicker. Thankfully, I was between the two, so they couldn''t get physical without alerting me to their antics.


    Connie, which was the tallest girl, with pink highlights and brown hair. She was blushing, head turned away from the rest of the table. Still, that was a bit curious. Amelia said something about her name being a coincidence? One worse than mine?


    Really? Was Kathrine to Kansas really that bad? Sure, the first two letters were the same, but that''s about it. It certainly wasn''t that close. Enough to give someone some crap about? Absolutely.


    But I was getting sidetracked. There were a handful of ship names close to Connie. Constitution was one of the first to come to mind. However, her hull was completely wrong for that to be the case. Plus, Constitution being summoned in any capacity would make news. Her summoning was not something that could just be swept under the rug. If they were natural-born, there might be a case for that? But otherwise? Too massive of a face, historically speaking, for the navy to somehow hide her from the public.


    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Of course, she''d likely never see combat at all. I was probably reaching the cusp of what the navy considered as worth upgrading, and even then, I was probably toeing the line just a bit. Then again, I heard a few rumor''s about her hull managing to sink an Abyssal. I''m not entirely sure how that would be even possible. Even if it was some sort of unintentional ramming, I didn''t how that would do any real damage. Constitution would have gotten off worse in that exchange, I''d imagine.


    "Yeah, Connie here is a bit shy," Anong gently elbowed the blushing girl, only for the blush to grow even deeper, as Connie turned more of her head away.


    "I, see," there was a pause. What else could I say? I could have been considered whatever the male equivalent to shy was in my previous life. But that was more of me not being the most talkative, not wanting to engage in the current topic, or me just reading. Connie was different. Blushy was a word that I didn''t think could be used to describe someone, but here we are.


    Which was odd, given how she likely had me pretty easily beat in terms of firepower. I mean, she was pretty clearly some type of battleship. Maybe an unbuilt battlecruiser? But besides the converted Lexington and Saratoga, did we have any of those? There was the rest of the class if I do remember correctly. Six ships in total, I think.


    "So, which ship are you, if you don''t mind me asking?" I turned my full gaze towards Connie, as she peeked at me from between her fingers. To see someone taller than me acting this meek was kind of unsettling.


    "Constellation," I could barely make out her voice, nearly as faint as a breeze. There was a moment of pause, as everything began to slide into place. She was a Lexington class battlecruiser? Oh. Oh wow. That''s big. That''s very big.


    Immediately repressing the urge to ask for, say, an autograph or something, which would be rude to ask for out of the middle of nowhere. Still, unlike Kathrine, Connie sounded as if it could be used as a nickname. Amelia was right, that was a dumb coincidence.


    "Where your parent''s seers or something?" I turned my head slightly. Naming a kid Connie who ended up being the reincarnation of Constellation? Sorry, but that was a bit much. Even for me.


    "Yeah, what exactly do your parents do, anyway?" Laura turned towards Connie, crossing her arms, her argument with Amelia completely abandoned. "You''ve never exactly been too clear on what it is, exactly, that they do."


    Everyone else at the table piped up at that as I winced. While I was in part joking, how was I supposed to know that it was going to cause this?


    "Construction," was the only thing Connie said, before hiding her blushing face again. Anong let out a sigh, rubbing her head as Connie''s answer didn''t seem to be exactly satisfying to everyone else.


    "I can tell you that my father certainly was!" Anong declared, putting her food on the table in a triumphant pose. "On the day I was born, he saw writing in the stars, telling how I had a grand destiny before me!"


    I think everything else just came to a pause for a moment. Even a few people from other tables were looking at us. If her goal was to take the heat away from Connie, mission accomplished, I guess. Then there was a bonk, as a box of milk bounced off Anong''s head, her eyes immediately going to the source, a very smug-looking Amelia.


    "You sound like an anime protagonist right now, you know that, right?" Amelia''s face split in a taunting grin, as I noted the considerable mismatch between the two. Even without considering the difference between them as ships, this was a mismatched fight if there ever was one.


    "I dare you to say that too my face," Anong let out a growl that almost sounded feral. Both glared at one another, almost ready to start a fight. Nope. Not going to deal with this right now. Not on my first day.


    "My mother works as a nurse," Anong and Amelia both paused, turning towards me. "My father works as a firefighter. My cousin and his wife, who I''m staying with, works down at the San Deigo Naval Base."


    And if that didn''t work, I could easily just stand between the two. It wasn''t like there was anything they could reasonably do to stop me.


    "Realy? That''s a bit of a surprise!" Laura jumped in, seemingly to help defuse the situation even further. "My father is a navy man himself. He was quite surprised when he found out I was a shipgirl."


    "My mother works fashion design. You may have heard of her. Or you may not," Jesica shrugged her shoulders as if she didn''t care at all.


    "I don''t think so, Jesica. Kathrine seems more of a shirt and jeans kind of gal," Anong teased, earning an eye roll from the darkly dressed girl.


    "It''s not like your any different, Anong," Jesica shot back, but Anong gave a hearty laugh in response. "Kathrine might be better than you. She might have some degree of taste."


    "Hey! I picked out the dress for my sister''s wedding just fine, didn''t I?" this time, it was Jesica''s face that turned crimson, lighting up her pale skin.


    "That dress was an affront to good taste, modesty, and basic sanity!" Jesica practically squawked, slamming both her hands against the table.


    "What is this they''re talking about?" I whispered to Laura, trying to be discrete as Anong laughed again.


    "I''ll show you it later. The picture is, well, not exactly something one should wave around on school grounds if you catch my meaning," Laura whispered back. Now, that was curious. How bad could it honestly be?


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


    What could I say about history that hasn''t already been said? The American education system really needed to work out exactly how to teach history. Sure, steps were being taken in the right direction, but it felt as if it was the same material over and over again, only slightly more in-depth each time.


    I could get it in elementary school. Kid''s weren''t dumb, but they could oftentimes miss a lot of the more subtle details. But for middle and high school students? There wasn''t an excuse on that front.


    But I did enjoy history. Even more so now than I had previously. One of those, obvious in hindsight deals, I''d imagine. Of course, given how originally my primary desire was going into a field focusing on the study of things so old they''ve become rocks? Probably a bit less so.


    However, I couldn''t help as my eyes flickered back on the clock. The minutes were ticking by. Slowly, almost agonizingly slowly. The day wasn''t even halfway over yet, and here I was, ready to get out of this place. At least the Navy had already arranged bus transport for the day. I remember Jesica mentioning something about practice?


    But what practice could unawakened shipgirls do?


    The minutes continued to tick by.


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    I blinked once. I blinked twice.


    Then all the blood came rushing to my face like a tidal wave, turning me red as a tomato.


    "Anong! Really!"


    "Shame is for the weak!"


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


    This wasn''t a part of the base I''d been on. Sure, I recognized things from the tour, up to a point. But then we went through a set of doors. The smell of saltwater hung in the air, combined with? Was that? Incense?


    "Your acting like you haven''t seen a ritual site before," Anong elbowed me beneath the ribs.


    "Because I haven''t," was my blunt response, as I gazed at the architecture. Water licked the edges of the pool at the center of the room, a small canal running out towards the ocean, bringing in fresh saltwater. Somehow, it was clear as crystal, allowing one to see a mosaic eagle at the bottom. Arches rose along the sidewalls, towering overuse, inlaid with numerous pictures of American iconography.


    "I''m not too surprised. Don''t expect too much, though. This is more of a dummy summon, anyway," Laura nodded her head. I stopped looking around the summoning room, a place where most none members of the navy probably didn''t even get to see, turning toward the reincarnated Fletcher.


    "Dummy summon?" what exactly did that mean?


    "Dummy probably isn''t the right word. Placebo is much closer. It''s more to get us used to summon rituals, than anything else," Laura''s fingers rubbed the underside of her chin.


    "They don''t want us around for actual summons, as that tends to cause us to wake up fully instead. Kind of useless until we''re actually of age to enlist, though. They''ve taken away most of the pull, too," Amelia skipped along beside us. "That was after the time they woke up Connie by complete accident."


    That did answer the question at the back of my head. There had to be some reason why she was only one of them awake. The aforementioned Connie blushed, eyes avoiding a very specific cluster of bricks that looked damaged.


    Admiral Kenneth was there, alongside several other officers I didn''t recognize, each one standing tall and proud as we approached. He gave me a brief nod out of the corner of my eye, before turning towards the man standing at the list of the pool.


    I wasn''t sure what to do. Everyone spaced out mostly evenly, so I stepped into the circle where it felt appropriate. Then, it hit me. A pressure, a wall of energy materialized around me. First came the choir, singing faintly. Then the oath, the oath enlistment, was read by the admiral, with the choir slowly beginning to fade out, replaced, by another song.


    There was a flicker, a brief flash of light in the pool. For a moment, I thought it was my eyes playing tricks on me.


    "Sir, something is," one of the men spoke up, but by then it was already too late. Water began to spin like a whirlpool, the light beginning to glow brighter and brighter. At its apex, it exploded, saltwater erupting into the air like a geyser.


    I barely got my hand up in time to keep the water from getting into my eyes. Surely, that couldn''t have been a dummy summon. My eyes squinted, trying to find something to see through the refracting light. Slowly, as gravity began to reassert itself, I spotted a figure.


    A girl was standing in the pool. She was a familiar girl. Her skin was dark, nearly matching the brown of her eyes. Her hair was completely black, done in a long braid that reached the small of her back. Her dress was similar to mine, but white instead of blue, lacking a handkerchief. Instead, her sleeves were long, nearly reaching her wrists, with blue lace around the edges.


    She was familiar.


    I felt my hands clasp around my mouth, to let a gasp from escaping.


    "Lousiana?"


    She smiled.

 Chapter 15

    "Sir, I''ve managed to compile the report you requested," one of the officers slipped in through the door, carrying a large stack of folders in his hands.


    "Put it down son," Admiral Jeffery rubbed his fingers against his temple. He wouldn''t describe today as a disaster, but he was certainly going to have to deal with more paperwork than he would have cared for.


    With Kathrine''s awakening, Jeffery and the rest of the admiralty knew that it was only a matter of time before other Conneticuts were summoned. But he hadn''t expected it to be this soon! He''d hoped that Kathrine''s retrofit had already been completed and in the shakedown phase before any of her sisters showed up.


    Instead, Vestal had only just scarcely submitted her design, and they hadn''t begun to procure resources yet. With Kathrine, they had a few months for resources to build up until summer. They had to wait until summer anyway, given how this would be one of the most extensive refits ever to be performed. She already had to transfer schools, so they couldn''t simply just pull Kathrine out of class for more than a week.


    But Louisiana? She changed things. Considerably so, if they could acquire everything they needed for the retrofit before summer. An unlikely possibility, but worth keeping in mind.


    However, there was a reason why Jeffery hoped that any other Coneticuts would only show up after Kathrine''s retrofit had been completed. He''d heard about it, time and time again, especially with major retrofits like this. Doubly so for the experimental or new retrofits. It was that sort of drama Jeffery had hoped, no, prayed, to avoid. Given how the two had only just been recently reunited, having them fight over who would partake in the retrofit first was not something Jeffery wanted.


    Both would want to keep the other safe, something he couldn''t blame either of them for.


    On that front, at the moment, all Jeffery could do was hope that cooler heads prevailed.


    Reluctantly, he picked up the folder and began to read. The finds, well, they didn''t exactly surprise him. Materials were needed to summon most shipgirls, at the end of the day, and no matter the strength of the bond between two sister ships, it wouldn''t be enough for one to manifest without the cost being paid.


    So it had simply been a matter of finding out how much was missing. Both so he could order more resources, but also to give a benchmark of how much a summoned Connecticut would need. For both his future reference and for other admirals as well.


    But that still could overlook the several issues brought forth by the summon. The materials had been kept out of what had been thought to have been the range of consumption. At this point, Jeffery was beginning to suspect that the maximum distance might not even be quantifiable. Rather, it was something subjective, or at least, not reasonably measurable. Maybe even variable, from vessel to vessel.


    It certainly wouldn''t be what people wanted to hear, but it was the most likely explanation. Meaning there wasn''t a fix to the issue of accidental summons, other than putting resources off base, which wouldn''t practical in case of an emergency or other issue. They''d been dealing with accidental summons since the start of the war. They''d be a thing well until after the war, maybe even beyond.


    Simply put, accidental summonings were common enough, and there was more than plenty of experience in dealing with them. While a solution would be nice, it wasn''t like the issue was crippling the war effort, either. It wasn''t an ''if it isn''t broke, don''t fix it situation'', but by now, it was close enough.


    Still, Jeffery had to wonder how well Kathrine''s family was taking the surprise. He chuckled to himself. Jeffery had seen more than his fair share of families pick up new members out of the blue like this. Most responses were generally positive, though he''d heard of a few cases where things went bad. But if Lucas and his family were anything to go by, then the rest of Kathrine''s relatives were likely good people as well. Louisiana would be in good hands.


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


    Lucas


    -Congratulations to Aunt Jessica for your new daughter!


    Natalie


    -Congratulations!


    -Wait, since when were you pregnant?


    Jessica


    -I haven''t been pregnant for the last fifteen years!


    -Lucas, what are you going on about?


    Lucas


    -[Image]


    -This.


    Jessica


    -I see Kathrine, but who''s that other girl she''s hugging?


    Lucas


    -Louisiana.


    -You know, the second in class of the Connecticut class Battleships?


    -Kathrine''s older sister?


    Jessica


    -...


    -Honey, how long will it take you to get us an airplane ticket and book a hotel in San Deigo?


    Jacob


    -Dear, we just spent how much money again on our trip to Disney?


    Jessica


    -Didn''t we get most of that money back due to ''extenuating circumstances?


    -Alongside just about everything else?


    Jacob


    -We still used up vacation time.


    -And I bought either of our workplaces are willing to give us more, even with the good reason of a spontaneously generating daughter.


    Jessica


    -


    Jacob


    -Plus, we can''t just pull Joseph out of class.


    Joseph


    -I''d be completely okay with that.


    Lucas


    -Education is important, Cousin.


    Nathen


    -*redacted*


    Lucas


    -Really? Bob, get your kid under control.


    Cassie


    -Congrats!


    -We got a new cousin!


    -Should be enough to replace the useless step-sibling Kathrine is to flatten when you guys come visit us next!


    Natalie


    -I''ll wash out his mouth with soap in a minute.


    -Can someone get what he said removed before Kathrine finds it?


    Lucas


    -Already done.


    -Kathrine''s likely busy with Lousinia right now, so she probably won''t be able to notice.


    Nathen


    -*redacted*


    Natalie


    -Consider yourself grounded buster!


    Joseph


    -WTH?


    -What is wrong with you?


    -Check his internet history!


    -That''s some 4-chan level crap he''s spewing.


    Natalie


    -4-chan?


    Cassie


    -Darkweb internet site.


    -Goes into borderline criminal stuff.


    -No moderation means you can get away with doing and saying anything.


    Lucas


    -^


    -Tends to attract the worst people as a result.


    Jacob


    -I''m a bit curious though.


    -Do shipgirl genetics work like regular people?


    Joseph


    -Looks at a picture of Portland.


    -Looks at a picture of Indianapolis.


    -Do you really need me to answer that question?


    Cassie


    -Looks at a picture of Yamoto.


    -Looks at a picture of Mushashi.


    -Do you really need me to answer that question?


    Joseph


    -Jinx, you owe me a soda!


    Cassie


    -Jinx,


    -Darn it.


    Jacob


    -Point proven.


    Natalie


    -Back.


    -Say, doesn''t Lousinia''s dress remind of those old dresses mom used to wear?


    Jessica


    -Honestly?


    -I can see a resemblance, but it looks older than that.


    -I could be wrong though.


    Cassie


    -Oh, no, it''s a few decades older than Grandma is.


    -Kathrine''s dress looks like a 1920''s flapper dress with some navy uniform elements mixed in.


    -That alone is older than anything Grandma likely would have worn, given how she was born around the ''40s.


    -Louisiana''s dress is played a lot more straightforward in terms of design compared to Kathrine''s.


    -My guess on its time frame would be during the 1900s.


    -Late 1910''s at most.


    Lucas


    -Okay, miss future fashion designer, calm yourself.


    -No need to get burn marks on your keypad for typing so fast.


    Jessica


    -What are we going to do about her birthday, though?


    -Is it one year from today, or is there something else?


    Lucas


    -Most shipgirls celebrate their launch days.


    -It''s the equivalent to a birthday party in all the ways that matter, though.


    -Louisiana''s is August 27th, in case anyone was wondering.


    Jessica


    -That''s good.


    -It''s not too far from Kathrine''s birthday, and it gives us some time to find gifts.


    -I''ll text Kathrine, see if she has any ideas what Louisiana might want.


    Lucas


    -Don''t get your hopes too high just yet.


    -Louisiana was just summoned.


    -Odds of Kathrine knowing anything are pretty small.


    Jacob


    -On a different note, how exactly are your kids handling not just having one, but two house guests?


    Lucas


    -Louisiana needs a bit of time before she''s cleared for off-base activities.


    -Remember when Kathrine had to learn how to control her weight?


    -Imagine that expect with a person who''s always displaced more than sixteen thousand tons.


    -But once Lousinia is cleared, they''ll probably enjoy it.


    Jessica


    -Do you need us to send you any food?


    -Or even money to buy food?


    -You already have two growing kids at your house.


    -I''d hate to see what two battleships do to one''s food budget.


    Lucas


    -Don''t worry.


    -The navy is more than willing to provide for stuff like this.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    -I don''t know if Louisiana will be going with Kathrine to school though.


    -Kathrine at least packs her own lunches, which relieves a lot of pressure on the school.


    -Louisiana might just be a bit too much, even with the navy help covering the cost of the other awakened shipgirl there.


    Natalie


    -What exactly are they going to do with Louisiana''s education, anyway?


    -Or just shipgirl education in general?


    -You don''t hear much about things like that on the news.


    Lucas


    -Oh, that''s its own complicated mess I can''t fully go into.


    -Not really my department, honestly, so I don''t know much.


    -Kathrine will probably do a decent job of catching her up to current events.


    -Though missing about 90 or so years is going to be startling to just about anyone, not to mention a bit strange.


    Joseph


    -I can only imagine what it would be like for a lot older ships.


    -Those around before electricity was invented would be in a for a real, shock.


    Cassie


    -I will hurt you for that pun I swear to god!


    -That was terrible and you should feel ashamed of yourself for even thinking that up!


    Jacob


    -Come on, it wasn''t that bad.


    -I got a chuckle out of it.


    Cassie


    -Uncle Jacob, I love you, but more than half your humor consists of dad jokes.


    -Your sense of humor has already been compromised.


    Jessica


    -Ouch.


    Jacob


    -Are you really going to only say ouch?


    -Come to my defense here!


    Joseph


    -It''s not like she''s wrong.


    -You''re where I got my sense of humor from, after all.


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


    "Is there something wrong, ma soeur? Your pocket seems to be, vibrating," Louisiana cocked her head to the side. An expression of curiosity on her face almost looked refined, noble, even.


    "It''s fine," I quickly grasped into my pocket, setting the device to silent. Though I wasn''t sure why my phone was bouncing around every second, I had more pressing matters to contend with. Placing it face up on the bedside table, leaving it there so if someone needed to get in touch with me, I''d be able to see it.


    "That is an interesting device, ma soeur," Louisiana hummed, legs swinging back and forth off the side of her bed, springs creaking as she moved. "What does it do?"


    "It''s a cell phone," I paused for a moment. A cell phone was a cell phone. They''d been a thing pretty much since I was born. Even mobile phones had started to take off pretty early into my childhood. How exactly do I explain something like that to a person who''s never seen or heard of such a device? It''s like, a. A.


    "It''s kind of like a phone that functions like a radio, that also doubles as a personal telegraph," did I need to explain more? In terms I think she would understand, that was about as close as I could get. "We can get you one when you''ve been cleared for off-base activities."


    "Thank you, ma soeur," Louisiana clapped her hands together, a soft grin growing across her face. Not exactly too wide, nor showing any teeth. I''d almost describe the look on her face as prime and proper. The very definition of what was likely considered lady-like for the time. "It''s such a curious device. All this advancement and it hasn''t been a century yet?"


    I almost wanted to show her what modern warships looked like. They certainly didn''t look armed, at least compared to our day. How would she react to carriers being the rulers of the sea, when back then planes had only just begun to take to the sky. That even the dreadnaughts had been removed from their thrones as the ocean''s top dog.


    There was almost an irony in that.


    "I''ll be sure to return the favor, petite soeur," again, her grin was present but kept her teeth concealed. I shot Louisiana a confused glance. Return the favor? What exactly did she mean by that?


    Louisiana chuckled as if sensing my confusion. "I''m talking about your clothes, ma soeur. They''re so, unelegant. It simply cannot do."


    "They''re practical," I retorted, though I couldn''t stop a slight twitch of my lips. Despite being yet another person who wanted to shove me into a dress, it was good to talk like this.


    "The pockets?" Louisiana raised her hand, covering her chuckling face. "They are unnecessary, ma soeur. We are ships, are we not? We can simply carry what we need in our hulls."


    I didn''t exactly have a counterargument for that. Hadn''t even thought about anything like that in the first place, either. Louisiana''s logic made sense. And explained why I hadn''t seen any shipgirls carrying purses around.


    "Still, they''re comfortable and easy to wear," I shrugged. That was the primary draw of them, in my mind. Plus, you didn''t have to deal with people trying to pull stupid stuff like trying to peak up one''s skirt. Sure, there was the trick of wearing pants underneath, but that just defeated the purpose in my eyes.


    Louisiana let out another chuckle, hand lowering just enough to catch a glimpse of her now much wider grin. "It''s amazing how quickly you adapted to this strange new world, petite soeur. You''re making me feel so old."


    There were sparks of amazement in her warm brown eyes, yes, but part of her statement made me pause. Adapted? Wait. Did she think? I was summoned?


    Oh. Right. I knew Lucas managed to snag a picture of the two of us. But I don''t think introduced them to one another. That may have saved me an awkward conversation. How could I have forgotten something so simple? I must have been so excited that I completely forgot to tell him!


    "Well, I''ve been here for quite a while, so," my legs moved back and forth awkwardly as I gazed down at them, a slight flush of embarrassment in my checks.


    "Really? I heard a few hushed whispers that you recently woke up, so it can''t be that long," Louisiana had gone back to what I could only assume was her trademark slight grin. "Right?"


    "They aren''t, entirely wrong about that, just not in the way you think," Louisiana''s eyebrow raised just a tick as if signaling me to continue. Dammit, why did talking about this feel so awkward?


    "I woke up recently because I was born as a human," the whole twice part would be carried to the grave with me. There was a pregnant pause, a silence in the air, almost like a blanket.


    "I see, petite soeur," Louisiana finally spoke. "It seems peculiar, yet, sensical. If my form is presently that of a human, it would be reasonable that ships could be reborn as humans."


    "Saying it aloud, though," Louisiana chuckled again, still remaining to sound almost polite. "It almost seems quite ridiculous, don''t you think?"


    I let out a snicker, making no move to cover my mouth. She wasn''t exactly wrong. Saying it out loud did seem to make appear more strange than it was.


    "Sis, if there''s one thing I''ve learned over the years, it''s that reality has never been under any obligations to make logical sense," I released a snort of laughter, mostly at my dumb statement. It was so dumb, yet so true. Louisiana caught on, though her laughter scarcely reached the pitch of more than a snicker.


    "Well said, ma souer!" she grinned, partially covering her mouth once again.


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


    It came to me at some point, as we talked away the wee hours of the night.


    I was so getting her a fan for her launch day celebrations.


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


    It was sad, watching her souer go. It was a necessity, she understood. Education was important for one to become prim and proper. But that didn''t stop the pain in her heart as Kansas stepped onto the bus and was taken away. Kansas would return, her souer promised that much, and that she would introduce Louisiana to her cousin upon her arrival.


    Cousin. Such a strange word. She knew what it meant, of course. What type of lady would Louisiana be, if she did not know the meaning of things? A poor one, most certainly.


    But it was one of foreign context. Kansas was her sister. And her sister had once been human. Louisiana had her souer''s, but besides their comrades in arms?


    Family beyond that was almost, foreign, raising questions that Louisiana, though she would never admit it, wasn''t sure how to ask. Was her souer''s family, her family?


    Louisiana tilted her head, enough to loosen the grip of these thoughts upon her mind. She had other things to worry about. Her souer, her sweet little souer, had told Louisiana how exactly she had been woken up. Kansas, her sweet little Kansas, was very much content to let bygones be bygones. Tuning the other check.


    A ladylike behavior to be sure, but out of her souer, it was almost surprising. Louisiana felt the edges of her mouth twitch, despite herself. Kansas may have been willing to let the sleeping dogs lay.


    But her? Louisiana would sooner drop her dignified looks and simply throttle the unwashed barbarian for hurting her souer. But the man had likely been stripped of his status, nor could her arms reach the other ocean. Such a pity.


    Even if that hadn''t been the case, Louisiana knew it wouldn''t have changed what was coming. There was her scrapping, alongside the scrapping of the rest of her souer''s, that needed to be addressed.


    After all, a lady couldn''t be expected to stand around and look pretty all day. That would be boring, and Louisiana would sooner make her own fun.

 Chapter 16

    "Damn, you look like hell," Anong was blunt as ever, as I rubbed my eyes, desperate to keep the sleep at bay.


    "Anong, be nice," Laura nudged the taller girl with her elbow. "Kathrine''s sister just got summoned. Of course, she isn''t going to get much sleep."


    "More like no sleep, actually," I grumbled, taking a half-hearted bite out of my apple. One o''clock wasn''t exactly the most reasonable bedtime for a school night, but that was still a few hour''s worth of shut-eye. Or, at least, it should be. But I was far too excited to fall asleep and with my sleep aid medicine being on the fritz since my awakening as a shipgirl?


    That was a recipe for an all-nighter if there ever was one. I should have gotten the medicine thing checked out sooner. But now I was paying for my poor planning.


    "Really? An all-nighter? What did you talk about? Boys or something?" Anong cackled before Laua elbowed her. It was hard to miss, even though my previous human existence left me reluctant to date, just simply by age. By mental age, more or less, I had been more than twice as old as some of my peers at that point. Made me feel skeevy.


    "It doesn''t have to be just guys, either," a voice whispered into my ear, causing me to jump in my seat and nearly bump into Connie. Amelia let out a laugh, falling backward onto her seat at the table. I scowled, hoping there wasn''t a blush on my face.


    "Just, stuff," I frowned, trying to deflect away from Amelia''s comment. "It''s been nearly a century since my sisters were active. Each of them is going to have a lot of catching up to do when they wake up."


    Sure, that was the case for most shipgirls, as I understood it, excluding those that survived long past the war, as museum ships, or even still active ones. That didn''t mean I had concerns beyond that. But honestly, I expected that someone would probably give Louisinia that run down sooner rather than later.


    "So, what''s Louisiana like, anyway?" Jessica hummed between bites of food. "She seemed pretty fancy."


    "Why, are you interested or something?" I just about bit my tongue at Anong''s comment, cutting off my words.


    "No," Jessica''s expression was smug. "But my mother might be though."


    Water came spitting out my nose as I coughed, before turning to glare at the dark-haired girl as Anong laughed in the background.


    "As a model or something!" Jessica raised her hands in surrender as I glared. "She doesn''t swing that way!" I let out a groan, rubbing my temples.


    "Please start with that next time," I rested my head in my hands, placing my elbows against the table.


    "Well, I think we all know who''s going to be handing out the ''if you do anything to hurt her speech''," Laura giggled. This time, my face flushed red with embarrassment.


    "Someone has to, and my parents aren''t going to be here to give it," I shrugged. I had absolutely no issues with giving anyone who wanted to date my sisters, any of them, a shotgun speech.


    Well, twelve-inch shell speech, in my case. Probably a bit more intimidating than a twelve gauge.


    "I''m honestly a bit surprised one of your sisters showed up so quickly. We''re still missing one of my sisters, after all," Anong crossed her arms behind her head as if resting them. "Happy, but surprised. I''m just hoping we can narrow down whoever I am soon."


    I understood where Anong was coming from. I was certainly surprised as well, though it was without a doubt a pleasant surprise. Though in her case, it probably had a bit to do with narrowing down which of the unsummoned New Orleans class Cruisers she was. If my memory was correct, the only ones left were Minniaploes and Vincennes. What were the odds of the other of the pair being a natural-born as well?


    That was an interesting question. What exactly were the odds of someone being a natural-born shipgirl? I didn''t think they were common, or, at the very least, that common. Natural borns weren''t exactly explained all that well, to my knowledge.


    "I''ve been thinking, but how common are natural borns, anyway?" I looked across the table, the moving gears in my brain bringing to a state that could at least pass as getting a proper night''s sleep. Everyone shot me a confused glance, and a few shrugs, while Laura stroke her chin.


    "I''m not exactly sure. There''s been a lot of research done on the matter, but not a whole lot has come out of it," Laura frowned, "Not all classes have a natural-born member, but it''s really uncommon not to find at least one in a class of at least five or more ships. I have several other natural-born sisters myself. The only thing I know for certain is that ships that were never finished are more likely to appear as natural borns."


    "Because there''s a logical explanation on why shipgirls even exist in the first place," Jessica rolled her eyes. "Just enjoy the weirdness and be done with it already."


    I frowned. Part of her statement made sense. Shipgirls didn''t make sense, so why worry about it?


    "I don''t think so. Humanity wouldn''t have gotten as far as we have if at every unexplained thing we just shrugged and said ''weird''s weird,'' and moved on," Anong and Laura nodded at my words, even with Connie seeming a bit more engaged than usual. Jessica just gave me another roll of her eyes, before returning to her lunch.


    My eyes flicked towards the clock, before widening in alarm. I should probably follow her example.


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


    Louisiana was surprised. While she had no reason to doubt her sister''s words, there was a difference between hearing about something and seeing it for one''s self. This wasn''t even San Fransico, yet this city seemed to dwarf where they had stayed as part of the Great White Fleet.


    Louisiana let out a sigh, thinking back to easier, simpler, times, basking in the sun''s rays. She didn''t have time to look after her summoning, with her excited petite soeur, but now that day had come, it was hard to deny just how much things changed. Her eyes glanced over toward where numerous ships lay in dock. All but the smallest of the vessels were larger than her former self. The largest being ships with flat tops, with not a single gun in sight.


    So, just like how the dreadnaught had supplanted Louisiana and her soeur''s, the dreadnaughts themselves had found themselves replaced by something new. It was funny, in a way. The dreadnaught, once the pride of the navy, then later left to rot.


    Of course, these would have to have been the aircraft carriers that her petite soeur spoke of. The airplanes of their era had been slow. Lumbering. Fragile. Something that was not built for life on the ocean.


    But as Louisiana was quickly learning, things had changed. If hardier craft could be constructed, then aircraft launched from ships playing a roll in combat aside from scouting wouldn''t be so, outrageous.


    Nor did it change how she and her petite soeur were even more obsolete than before. She had almost been tempted to widen the scope of her pranks if only just a little bit. Instead, Louisiana had decided that caution better suited her at the moment. After all, even a fool would be able to put together an increase in disturbances to the arrival of a new individual.


    Instead, the time would be better spend observing those around her, bidding her time. She didn''t wish to harm anyone, not truly. That would lead to the navy being forced to take a heavy hand with her. An event she would rather not come to pass, even if Louisiana felt her petite soeur was being too soft, given what happened.


    Louisiana''s fist tightened. Her petite soeur was being incredibly soft. If she were there, Louisiana would put the man''s head on a pike for his stupidity. That alone was worth getting payback for, even if only slightly. But she''d have to bide her time before putting any of her current pranks into motion. Pre phase after the next summoning or so? Louisiana brought up her hand to hide the grin that was surely growing across her face.


    It was too unladylike to show that many teeth, after all.


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


    Admiral Jeffery ran his fingers through his receding hairline. It was only going to be a matter of time before the media got wind of Louisiana being summoned. Kathrine''s identity as Kansas may as well be an open secret by this point, but enough had gotten the message to back off from the pre-dreadnought battleship.


    Louisiana threatened to blow that wide into the open and had her problems, to boot. None intentional on Louisiana''s part, at any rate. But after the uproar, several members of her namesake state had after Louisiana, or BB-71, was summoned in Japan? There would be calls for Kathrine''s sister to at least visit the state. Normally, this wouldn''t be a big issue, but Admiral Jeffery knew for a fact that certain parties would try to put some spin on it.


    Until they caught wind of her skin color, at any rate. As much as he''d give Tennessee a medal for what she did, Admiral Jeffery would rather not have a repeat of that particular incident. Louisiana didn''t seem like the type to respond to such, but he''d been around long enough to know that it''s always the one you least expected. And even if Louisiana was willing to let belligerent racism go, Kathrine probably wouldn''t.


    But that was a matter that could be put off. Louisiana would have to be gotten up to date, and while Kathrine would certainly be doing the best job she could, there was a lot to go over, and Kathrine likely didn''t have enough time to even scratch the surface. Then there were general public relations lessons. Kathrine probably wouldn''t need them as badly, being a minor herself, but with Louisiana, they would be necessary. Ideally, not to a great extent, but that was something they would have to find out.


    And how could he forget the retrofit problem that was sure to arise? While Kathrine had gotten basic fire control training, with basic practice with her anti-air equipment, Louisiana had not. Louisiana wouldn''t even have any anti-air armaments, in truth. Not any that could hurt a fly, much less a plane. They could get her up to speed right this moment. Unlike the full retrofit planned for the Connecticut''s, they had all of the equipment for the small upgrades that Kathrine had gotten.


    They had more than enough spare machinery. Being among the largest naval bases in the United States had perks, after all. Getting Louisiana an upgrade to her equipment to that small of an extent wouldn''t take long at all. He wasn''t expecting Louisiana to see any action, at least until the full retrofit was done and after rigorous testing, to boot. But it didn''t hurt to be prepared.


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    Of course, Admiral Jeffery could also just order the full retrofit done. It would take time for everything to be built, shipped, and handled. Even with the twin-twelve-inch batteries being built for several older dreadnaughts, those did not grow on trees. It''d take a few months for all four guns to be built, even if the order being but in, alongside the eight twin-eight inch guns. Those would be slightly easier in size, but not volume.


    That was going to be a conversation that he was going to have to have with both shipgirls, however. One way or another, he was going to have to decide on the matter. Because Kathrine still needed to be in school, he was already leaning towards Louisiana, simply due to that time constraint. Then they could begin with the shakedown cruise and ironing out any kinks in Vestal''s design.


    To be frank, he wasn''t entirely sure on what roll the retrofitted Connecticuts would serve. Even with a miracle, they''d be too slow to keep up with fleet carriers and light carriers, so escort duty was off the table, like with many of the older dreadnaughts. Green water duties were an option, and the power of twelve-inch guns would be appreciated in such a roll, but that''s where many of the dreadnaughts found themselves operating. Not exactly awful, but he had a suspicion that the rest of Kathrine''s sisters wouldn''t take as kindly to many of the older dreadnaughts when compared to Kathrine herself.


    Acting as heavily armed escort for jeep carriers was an option. Battleship grade armor, with battle cruiser and heavy cruiser guns, all on a package the size of a light cruiser? That would give just about any enemy vessel besides battleships and carriers at least some pause. The same could go for seaplane tenders, such as Langley. Admiral Jeffery remembered hearing something about how Kathrine had defused a situation between Langley and Vestal on her first day.


    Maybe that was an avenue worth pursuing? Langley had made no attempts to hide that she didn''t like being kept out of the fighting. Despite being a seaplane tender, and an old one, at that. Letting her stretch her legs, even on a minor operation, might do her some good. But at the same time, Langley was very much the Grandmother of the entire carrier fleet. Losing her again would be unacceptable.


    Admiral Jeffery tapped his pin against his desk. Maybe she could help with some training exercises? It would possibly help Langley from going too stir crazy. And he''d been meaning to get Connie in for some practice as well. Even with her retrofit, she sorely needed attentional practice anyway.


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


    I hadn''t exactly gotten a chance to look at Louisiana''s rigging when she had been summoned. I''d been far too excited about having one of my sisters back to being distracted by such details. But now that I got a look at it, there were a lot of differences, and those were before my minor refit.


    Sure, hypothetically, we would both have the same rigging as sisters. But in practice? Not so much.


    My rigging was split bow to stern, with my twelve-inch guns placed atop my hands, with the rest hanging off my sides, attached just above my waist, with a smokestack and the conning tower strapped to my back.


    Louisiana''s rigging, on the other hand, was split port to starboard, right between her smokestacks. While her conning tower was connected to her back as well, that was the only similarity left, as her twelve-inch guns were attached to the ship portion of her rigging, which hung around her waist. Our boots were similar as well, hiding underwater torpedo tubes.


    Then there was, of course, my refit to consider. Louisiana''s deck was covered in numerous smaller guns of various sizes, while mine had pretty much been replaced wholesale with the twin five-inch batteries and a handful of twin Bofors.


    Her various guns launched numerous salvo''s downrange towards the targets that littered the bay. Louisiana''s aim was better than mine when compared to my larger guns. It wasn''t too surprising. She still had most of her memories while I still had a lot of practice to put in.


    But comparatively, my five-inch guns were more accurate than the vast majority of her smaller guns. As to be expected from a dual-purpose armament that was among the greatest large anti-aircraft guns used during the war.


    That was not much of a consolation prize, however, when Connie was outperforming us at both small and large arm gunnery. Each crack from her sixteen-inch main battery was either marked by a direct hit or a massive eruption of water close to her target. Far beyond the range of our twelve and eight-inch guns at that. Expected? Absolutely. A sixteen-inch main battery gave Connie just one barrel short of any of the US fast battleships, in the same caliber to boot. If she had gotten some type of Iowa-style fire control system, then it would explain her accuracy.


    Given how she had her duel purpose five-inch guns, an armament that certainly wouldn''t have been around for the original Lexington class Battlecruisers, then it was safe to say Connie had gotten a retrofit of her own. Which was a good sign, given how she was around my age.


    Honestly, I shouldn''t be too worried about my retrofit, anyway. The more practice I had with the new equipment, the better off I''d be in actual combat.


    Slowly, we made our way to the end of the course.


    "I think we both have room for improvement, ma soeur," Louisiana bowed slightly, in a manner that already confirmed what I was going to get her for her birthday. "You outperformed us by no small margin, Miss Connie, was it?"


    Connie''s face lit up like a tomato, trying to hide her face from my sister''s words. Her uniform was strange, a bit difficult to put into words, but it was like a combination of both Lexington and Saratoga''s outfits. The dress was longer than Saratoga''s, coming up to just above the meek girl''s ankles. But instead of being white or grey, it instead took after the color of Lexington''s clothes. White near the top, with the sides being a lighter grey before both gave way to a deep blue the further down one went, becoming completely dominant by the time one reached the skirt. From what I could see, the outfit was completed with red socks, bearing a black stripe up the middle.


    "We still have one more exercise to go, right?" I''m really happy that shipgirls had multiple copies of the same outfit. Because something told me I was either going to want or need a bath after whatever was coming our way.


    So, what exactly was it? I scowled, looking around. Submarines were among the first things that came to mind. None of us had any anti-submarine equipment, so that might be a bit redundant, but testing us on how we reacted to an unconventional situation. One that we weren''t equipped for?


    Possible, but probably not. An attack from the sky, then? If that was the case, then Connie was the only ship between the three of us with radar, which meant she would be the only one who could alert us to anything coming from that direction.


    "Contacts," Connie''s words were brief, but I only needed to see where she was gazing, off in the distance. Sure, I couldn''t see much, with my mark one human eyeball and the setting sun, but between the battlecruiser''s gaze and the upward direction, it was pretty safe to assume what was coming our way.


    Immediately, my crew sprung into action, replacing the balloons meant to represent my anti-surface ammunition with those that simulated anti-aircraft shells. Bofor members scrambled into their positions, all guns going on high alert. As I''ve already learned the hard way with Ranger, my upgrades wouldn''t be enough to cut it, even against a modest number of aircraft. My fire control systems simply weren''t designed for it.


    Connie was pretty much our best hope, and honestly, she was probably a good one. Fully modernized, and her rigging was bristling with a considerable number of Bofors and Oerlikon, not to mention twenty five-inch, dual purpose guns. Her anti-air armament could probably match that found on any of the United States fast battleships during the war, and that was no small statement.


    "Ma souer? What are you two looking," Louisiana cut off her own words, meaning the aircraft had finally entered visual range. They were scarcely notable, merely tiny dots in the sky. But those tiny dots were growing larger, and they were growing fast. Diver bombers? Torpedo bombers?


    The answer was probably both. Regardless, we needed to get underway. Sitting still like ducks was just going to make us an even easier target. An easier target than Louisiana and I already were, at any rate.


    "Louisiana, try to stay between me and Connie as much as possible!" my plan probably wasn''t a good one. However, Louisiana had very little clue on what airstrikes even were, unless she had gone in towards one of the classes today. Which I was fairly certain she hadn''t. And Connie hadn''t spoken up yet, so either she had a plan and wasn''t telling us, or she didn''t have one.


    Now came the possibly stupid part. Do I play it safe and stay behind Connie''s anti-air bubble? Or do I use myself as bait to draw in some planes, possibly allowing Connie to pick up some easier kills while they tried to set up their attack runs?


    No, that was, stupid. Why would I even think that? Connie had more than enough firepower to make such a maneuver unnecessary. I could be screening for her, as Connie was probably the more important and valuable ship, being honest in evaluation. However, Louisiana had no real measure of defense besides her armor, and as I found out the hard way, armor simply wasn''t good enough.


    Plus, without radar, it wasn''t like I''d be able to hit any of the planes heading our way. Maybe cause a few to fly off course, but it''d take a lucky shot to cause one to divert at range.


    Finally, Connie nodded, quickly getting underway, moving just fast enough to make sure we weren''t left in her wake. I scowled. Maybe trying to act as a screen, as stupid and fruitless as it would be, might have been a better idea after all. She had practically cut her speed in half, leaving her a lot more vulnerable than she otherwise would me.


    Watching as a few planes maneuvered around Connie''s flack bubble before pressing in the attack, I realized that no matter what happened, this was not going to be pleasant either way.

 Chapter 17

    I scowled as the last of the easily dissolving paint slipped down the drain. That could have gone a lot better. Compared to the first time, it was a better showing by some margin. But my fire control systems were nowhere near that good, lacking radar and other crucial components meant my aim had still been a mess. Then came down to lack of practice.


    I''d taken a few splashes from the bomb hits, alongside getting nicked with a torpedo. It wasn''t enough for me hit the shower or anything, but it was certainly enough for me to change into a fresh set of clothes. Out of my shipgirl dress and into a more comfortable set of civilian clothes. I knew Connie had a similar idea to me, given how she had joined Louisiana and me''s journey to the battleship dorms.


    She''d taken a smaller bomb, a single one, on her shoulder, so she at least wanted to freshen up.


    Louisiana hit the shower immediately. I wasn''t entirely sure why. She certainly took a few more hits than Connie had, but between the two of us acting as a screen around her, Louisiana had escaped the worst of the strike. She only took two bombs to my four. But then again, as I''d found out the hard way, one bomb could easily be more than enough to take a ship out of the fight. Especially when it slams into your turret and explodes.


    My hand twitched, a brief twinge of phantom pain coming through at the memory. That strike had pretty much knocked me out, and the thing was? It could have easily been considerably worse.


    Shaking off the memory, I lightly tapped on the bathroom door, the sound of the running shower easily making its way through. Louisiana had been there since we arrived, and she hadn''t said a word since the exercise. Seeing her that quiet was, concerning. While I wouldn''t go as far as to call my sister a chatty Cathy or anything, but she tended to be a bit more expressive and talkative than that.


    "Are you okay in there?" I asked, hoping my words carried over the noise of falling water. Maybe it was shock? Even though it was training, that exercise had probably been the first time my sister had come under air attack. She probably didn''t know how modern wars were fought. I mean, I told her about it, but there is a fine line between being told and seeing it for oneself. Let alone experiencing it.


    "I''ll be out in a few minutes," Louisiana''s voice rang back, sounding almost normal. However, her tone felt hollow, as if something had been carved out of it.


    "Hey. If you want to talk about it with me, you can," my statement hung in the air for a few moments, before I heard the shower turn off. I backed away from the door once I heard the rustling of clothes, taking a seat at my bed. It was quite comfortable, more than enough to support my weight, even if I was more ship-like.


    After a moment or two, the sounds of movement stopped, and the door creaked its way open.


    Louisiana. She.


    No great way to put it, but she looked like a mess. Her dress was wrinkled, further reinforcing that once she could control her weight from human to ship that we were going shopping for some civilian clothes. Louisiana''s hair was still damp, water still dripping off the edges.


    Her eyes were puffy and red. Not to the point where it looked like Louisiana had been crying, but appeared as if she were on the brink of tears. In an instant, I bolted upright, closing the distance between me and my sister in a blink, before wrapping her into a tight hug.


    "You''re safe here," I rubbed her back as Lousiana let out a hiccup.


    "How can you handle feeling so powerless like that?" I could have easily mistaken my older sister''s voice for a whisper. "I couldn''t do anything against those things. Even against a dreadnought, we would still be able to fight back! But against those planes?"


    "An aircraft carrier can launch attacks at targets more than a hundred miles off, without fear of retaliation from surface targets," the words came out of my mouth before I could fully get my thoughts together. "Everyone is pretty much powerless against that. Airpower and excessive anti-air are the only two available options, and right now we don''t have either."


    "That''s what the retrofits will be for," Louisiana looked up at me, frowning.


    "I noticed the new guns before. But they weren''t enough," she placed her head back on my shoulder.


    "This? This isn''t the retrofit. This is the rushed patch job they did to make sure I had some degree of means of defending myself if I ever came under air attack again," Louisiana looked back up this time her eyes seeming to sparkle with a dusting of tears, but also something else.


    Was it? Hope?


    "Really? They''re going to give us another chance?" her voice sounded as if she didn''t believe herself. I could understand why. When it came to came to the pre-dreadnaughts, our star had set. Hell, the star had set on our successors, too. We weren''t just made obsolete once, but rather, twice over.


    It sounded harsh, but it was the truth. War was a cruel mistress, as was the march of time. One day, there would be a time when the star of the aircraft carrier would set as well, as technology advanced and war marched onwards. What the American navy had done when we were scrapped was ultimate, not a choice made out of cruelty, but rather, another simple fact of war and advancement. Even if the British had never envisioned the Dreadnought, someone else would have, and even bearing that miracle, we would have been rendered obsolete as bigger guns, better armor, and improved technology became implemented.


    I''d come to terms with that, I think. Sadly, there was, practically, little to be done. Keeping an obsolete ship in the fight was dangerous to everyone, including the crew of such a vessel. And it wasn''t like keeping a museum ship wasn''t expensive, either, nor did most ships have the history to warrant such. Hell, even Enterprise hadn''t been spared from the breakers, nor Saratoga from weapons testing.


    Though, I had a sinking suspicion that my siblings might not share my thoughts on the matter.


    A grumble filled the comfortable silence, almost to the shook of us both.


    "Sorry, ma soeur," Lousinia blushed, shifting her feet as her stomach made one of the most un-ladylike sounds imaginable. I could help myself, snicker at the noise. For all her refined dignity, hunger was a force few shipgirls could never oppose.


    "Come on, let grab some grub. I wanted to introduce you to my new friends, anyway," I chuckled, pushing open the door for her. One of these days, while on leave, I would probably introduce her to some of my old friends, too. Louisiana probably would get a kick out of it.


    "Every well, petite soeur," a slight grin rested on Lousiana''s face. "I''d very much love to meet these friends of yours."


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


    "It took the two of you long enough," I would have shot a glare Amelia''s way, but at this point, I assumed it would only make the reincarnated submarine laugh even more. "What exactly were the two of you doing up there?"


    Laura elbowed the girl, with a bit too much force to pass off as a friendly reminder to be polite.


    "She seems, pleasant," Lousinia didn''t approve of the little remark, but seemed content to have a stiff upper limp to the whole thing.


    "Don''t mind Amelia too much. Somedays she has more in common with a Japanese lewdmarine than an American subtheif, anyway," Anong interrupted me from the other end of the table, sitting next to a pink-haired heavy cruiser I recognized as Quincy. I blinked but gave a quick nod to Principle Williams, who was sitting to the other side of her wife.


    "I, see," Louisiana''s face flashed briefly in a look of confusion, before setting on a more neutral expression. She probably didn''t have a single clue what ''lewdmarine'' or ''subtheif'' even meant. The former would probably be something she would strongly disprove of, so to say I wasn''t looking forward to that conversation.


    Still, if the rumors were true, I''d take either of them over the absolute insanity of British subs or the over professionalism of German ones.


    "Well, you''ve already meet Connie," I gestured to the battlecruiser, who was busy topping off her stomach. She immediately began to blush, turning her head away once I drew some attention to her. "Connie is a bit shy, so please don''t take it personally."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "I would do no such thing. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Connie," Lousiana bowed slightly, as much as one could while sitting down. Which only made the blushing battlecruiser turn an even brighter shade of pink. Impressive. She might just reach the point where her face just becomes a tomato.


    "Those two are Anong and Amelia," I gestured over to the squabbling pair. Both didn''t give my works any heed, continuing their argument. So long as it didn''t come to blows like it had the first day, then it wasn''t too much to worry about. I doubt the two would be willing to come to blows, here, of all places. "They''ll probably be like that for a while."


    "They do seem quiet, lively," my sister seemed to be a little less impressed with the two of them. Anong was pretty wild and free-spirited, with all the boons and banes that entailed. Amelia was. Amelia. I didn''t see Louisiana getting along with the reincarnated submarine all that well.


    "Jessica and Laura," I watched as the reincarnated Fletcher poked her head around my back, offering up her hand, to which my sister gladly shook. "Are my fellow bastion in semi-sanity."


    "Really? Only just semi-sanity?" Laura let out a dramatic gasp, faking an injury of some kind. "You wound me."


    Jessica, on the other hand, rolled her eyes, clearly not amused.


    "We''re shipgirls. The antics that happen daily probably remove any argument for sanity," I chuckled, as Louisiana let out a polite giggle, once again covering her face.


    "Got me on that one," Laura shrugged, returning to her meal for a brief moment.


    "I''m a bit surprised you guys all stayed to watch," I took a few quick bites out of my meal, attempting to keep the conversation rolling.


    "Even if it''s just watching, we have some form of practice.," Jessica let out a huff. "Sometimes observing someone else do it is better than read a book over and over again."


    "Plus, it wouldn''t be fair for us to head home early if you guys are going to be putting in all the work," Laura grinned, before leaning in close so she could whisper in my ear. "Connie kind of needs the support, anyway."


    I could see that. It was kind of hard imagining one of the most powerful battlecruiser lines the United States has ever designed as such a big softy. Not that there was anything wrong with that. But compared to a lot of the big American capital ships, such a personality stood out.


    "That is very generous of you all. I humbly extend my thanks to you all," Louisiana again bowed slightly, someone retaining a ladylike disposition, despite the whole, bowing and sitting down thing. Jessica and Laura both seemed to be taken aback, Jessica looking up from her meal while Laura just stared blankly.


    "Damn. You''re a real lady of war, aren''t you?" Jessica shook her head. "We don''t get too many of those in the United States Navy." I paused for a moment, thinking over all the American capital ships. Jessica wasn''t exactly wrong.


    Not entirely surprising, as the United States didn''t exactly have as much of an extensive history of land-owning lords and barons. Sure, more than a few groups styling themselves as such, but nothing that matched the European nobility of old. Something that pissed off those individuals to no end, I''m sure. Attempting to imitate those that would sneer at them as lower.


    "Lady of war?" Louisiana gave a slightly puzzled look. "I''m not entirely familiar with that term."


    "It''s a term used to describe someone refined and ladylike, but also goes to battle," Louisiana still gave me a confused glance as I tried to explain.


    "Then would we all not be ladies of war?" Louisiana was technically correct with her statement. We were all ladies, in that sense.


    Of course, given how most of us were in our civilian clothes, mostly consisting of various assortments of skirts, shorts, and t-shirts, it wasn''t like that label stuck. I doubted I would even be considered as such, even in my dress.


    "There''s a bit more to it than that," I frowned, trying to put it in a way she would understand. "It''s kind of like Hood. There''s just a feeling of refined grace and elegance that just doesn''t feel as if they should be on the field of battle. Yet, they''re still more than capable of handling themselves."


    "I''m not entirely sure I understand, but I''ll take your word for it, petite soeur," Louisiana briefly returned to her meal, as a comfortable silence fell over us.


    Well, as silent as a mess hall full of shipgirls could be, at any rate, as Amelia and Anong''s argument continued. I wasn''t even sure what the two were going back and forth about anymore. They''d had to have moved on to something else by this point. If we had continued our conversation I wouldn''t have been able to pick up the increasingly loud pitter-patter of feet.


    A very familiar pitter-patter of feet. By the time I realized what was happening, I had just enough time to brace for impact. The blow from two pre-teens impacting my body didn''t go unnoticed, but I didn''t lurch forward into my foot, which was a plus.


    It didn''t take many guesses to figure out who exactly was responsible for that.


    I chuckled, straightening out my back from the blow, as the two who now clung to my shoulders grinned and giggled.


    "Eren! Gale! What did I tell you two about doing that?" Lauren scolded the two, though I could tell that she was struggling to keep a straight face. I doubted either of the pair noticed their mother''s conflict, as Lucas just shook his head.


    Louisiana, on the other hand, looked startled at the twin lumps of human that found themselves attached to my shoulder. It was almost amusing, seeing a look of surprise on her face.


    "Louisiana, these are my cousin''s kids, Eren and Gale," I offered, trying to get both of them into her line of sight, without hitting Laura with one of the two. Beaning the reincarnated Fletcher in the face with two sets of feet would be uncalled for. It wasn''t exactly easy to do, but I managed.


    To my sister''s credit, she seemed to recover quickly enough, her uncertain and surprised expression shifting to that of a smile.


    "I''m very pleased to meet the two of you in person. Ma soeur has told me much about you two," Eren and Gale giggled, before returning her greeting.


    "This is my cousin, Lucas, and his wife, Lauren," I gestured to the two they closed the distance at a much more measured pace than their children had.


    "It is an honor to meet those who have been taking care of my petite soeur," Louisiana stood up, bowing her head slightly. Lauren was taken a bit off guard, but Lucas was far less so.


    "Hey. Family takes care of family, after all," Lucas grinned, a warm expression written on his face.


    "I know it''s a bit of a surprise, but they were already missing you," I chuckled at his statement as if I couldn''t tell by the two adorable back leeches that were now clinging to my back. "And their excitement about having a new cousin should not go unstated."


    Then, as if it was some sort of signal, the two detached themselves from my back, before launching themselves into a hug on Lousinia. She staggered backward a bit, though it was probably more due to surprise than the twin blows from the scarcely more than four-foot frames.


    For the first time outside of training, I saw a look of sheer utter, ''what do I do'' written over my sister''s face. It was almost kind of amusing, but at the same time, the more I thought about it, kind of sad. Outside of one''s siblings, it''s hard to consider what was and was not family. So extended family just beyond me and the rest of my siblings? That would be a foreign concept to Louisiana.


    Maybe I should have asked Lucas to wait on dropping that surprise on her. Sure, she knew they existed, it would be impossible not to mention my human family during our talk. But the idea of it? Maybe I needed some time to ease Louisiana into the concept. She''d already been dropped into the deep end once today.


    Then again, I thought, as I watched Lousiana gently reach down and rub their hair. Maybe I was worrying over nothing at all.

 Chapter 18

    It''s almost strange how swiftly one begins to all into a routine. Especially given how long it takes to notice how normal that new routine feels. But by the time I''d begun to notice, weeks had already gone by.


    Go to school. Work through my classes. Have lunch with Anong, Connie, Laura, Jessica, and Amelia. Finish classes. Do schoolwork on the over to the base with Anong, Connie, Laura, and Amelia. Mostly Laura, Connie, and Jessica, or on the days where I was on my own, just do homework by myself, saving the history stuff until I got back to base.


    Once on base, I would meet up with my sister, Louisiana. From there, we either did exercises or went to the classes there until dinner rolled around. After that, we showered up, then I finished up my history homework, using what I learned in class to help Louisiana bridge the gap of her knowledge that spanned nearly a century of United States history.


    Which was a lot of history, and was pretty slow to boot. But it was nice and comforting. An excellent way for us to bond and get closer.


    She didn''t take learning about World War 2 particularly well, though that was something I expected. I still wasn''t looking forward to having the conversation with the rest of my sisters.


    But beyond that? Things had been pretty good.


    But today? Things would be different.


    Considerably different.


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


    "You two are likely wondering why I called you in today," Admiral Jeffery had his arms crossed behind his back, as I struggled to keep my face straight. I was failing, given the slight twitch in my lips. A few ideas bounced around in my mind, almost like a kid bouncing off the walls before Christmas. Sure, the expression on his face was quite serious, but that probably had something to do with him needing to maintain a professional appearance.


    The screen behind the admiral''s head, complete with a projector on the ceiling, kind of gave the game away a bit. Only a little bit. Still, I made sure to sit properly, without making a sound, just in case this turned into some type of lecture. I didn''t recall either of us doing anything that would cause that amount of trouble, but it was possible. Louisiana looked puzzled, though her facial features were similarly muted, like mine.


    "Yes sir, I''m very curious as to why, sir," I finally responded after a few moments of awkward silence. Admiral Jeffery paused for a moment as my sister nodded her head.


    "I received the news just last night. The design for your retrofit has been approved," Admiral Jeffery tapped a button on his remote, the projector flaring to life. The screen, once blank, was overtaken by a picture. No. Blueprints? But not one, but two of them.


    The first I recognized almost immediately as the blueprint for the Connecticut class. The guns. The turrets. The armor. But the second? The second I did not recognize.


    It was longer, to start. Not much longer. An Omaha class cruiser would still have been larger in that regard. Gone were the casements and underwater torpedo tubes, replaced by a torpedo blister and a thicker armor belt. Sure, there was only an added inch in thickness, but that had to count for something. Small writing on the design also noted an increase in the thickness of our deck armor. A blessing against enemy bombers.


    The superstructure and smokestacks were the biggest change. The three pillars had been brought down to two larger stacks. The rest of the superstructure was completely unrecognizable, no hint to its original shape being left behind. It looked like a slightly downsized version of the North Carolina class, however, it seemed to have even more space dedicated to anti-aircraft gun platforms, a combination of twin Orliken and quad Bofors, with even more resting on our decks. They were trying to squeeze in as much anti-air fire out of the newfound free space that they could.


    It bristled with several different fire directors as well, each location marked. Then came the arrangement of the five-inch twins, two on each side of our eight-inch rifles. Spaced just enough so that the middle would be able to fire over both its five and eight-inch neighbors. However, the eight-inch guns would be able to fire over the smaller five-inch, in the event of a surface action. Furthermore, they had managed to squeeze in another two five-inch guns, one aft and forward, respectively, superfiring over our main twelve-inch battery.


    As for our main armament? They looked slightly larger before, with a bit of elevation, to further help with longer-range engagements. Even part of our superstructure had been extended, helping disguise the fact that the elevated turret was there. Even the addition of the deck armor would prove useful, to say the least. Out four eight-inch guns had gotten similar treatment, though not as high, allowing the five-inch dual-purpose gun to fling shells over the top towards aircraft approaching towards the stern or bow, depending on the gun.


    Impressive was the only word I could think of to describe this. Miraculous. Incredible! If it wasn''t for the layout of the main battery, I wouldn''t have been able to tell that this retrofit was meant to represent a Connecticut class battleship! They''d changed so much! And that was just the external! Along with those outside changes, there would have to be just as many, no, more internal ones to allow for such systems to operate. New boilers, turbines, engines, electronics. New shell loading devices. Protection systems. Electronics.


    The whole nine yards. My expectations had honestly been set pretty high, but this had blown them completely out of the water. No joke, there were completely gone by this point. Seriously, those new guns had to be fifty and fifty-five caliber, respectively. Which meant one thing and one thing only.


    We were getting the super heavy armor-piercing shells.


    That alone was a potent increase in firepower. It is almost the equivalent of having upscaled guns.


    Sure, it would cut into our maximum range, but even a twelve-inch super-heavy armor-piercing shell would still outrange most eight-inch guns at maximum distance. With improved fire control, we''d be a match for anything smaller than a large cruiser, like Alaska and her siblings. Given the armored belt, probably superior.


    It was taking everything I had to not salivate. This? This was just.


    Wow. I didn''t have the words.


    "As you can see, the improvements are extensive, and even more so internally," Admiral Jeffery crossed his arms behind his back. "The casements have been removed, as they simply lack the range necessary for modern engagements. Even if we did want to keep them around, the seven-inch gun has fallen out of use, meaning we have no modern equivalent in both size and shell. The same can be said with the torpedo tubes, though for somewhat different reasons. Their underwater nature can lead to weak points in the armor. As for the smaller guns, they''re better off replaced by dedicated anti-aircraft weaponry, alongside the dual-purpose five-inch twin turret as secondary armament."


    "And what about our primary guns, Amiral? They look different, as well," Louisiana looked at the screen, almost perplexed by what she was seeing.


    "That is because they are being replaced with more modern weapons. Replacing your Mark fives are the modified Mark eight, a fifty caliber rifle kept in two twin turrets. Included with these guns are new systems for loading shells, specifically, the Mark 18 super heavy armor-piercing shell, which had a maximum range of over thirty-eight thousand yards, or more than thirty-five kilometers," There was a slight twitch on Admiral Jeffery''s face. "The piercing capacities of such shells is enough to match the 14 inch, fifty-caliber guns used on many older American dreadnaughts, giving you access to the most powerful guns a ship of your size would need to possess."


    Wait. The super heavy shell? Let us match 14-inch guns? Oh wow. That was, busted, to say the least. We were pretty much pocket battleships at this point.


    "That is considerably impressive. Right, my souer?" my sister tipped her head my way, as I nodded, still somewhat shocked by the revelation.


    "You''ll find that the protection on such guns has improved as well, so you won''t have to worry about a lucky airstrike as much. Likewise, the eight-inch forty-five caliber guns are being replaced with the standard of American Heavy Cruisers, the eight-inch, fifty-five caliber. The Mark 16 was considered, but due to space concerns, it was decided that the Mark 15 would remain effective until we know that the autoloader won''t cause issues. Like the twelve-inch rifle, these guns also fire super heavy armor-piercing shells, though at a smaller size."


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    "Next is your anti-air defense system, guided by radar and Mark 51 for small gun direction and the Mark 56 for your larger, dual-purpose guns. Each of you has twenty such guns, kept in ten twin turrets. There were some cases for the three-inch to be brought in as the medium armament of choice. However, given several factors, including the 40 millimeter Bofors effectiveness, up until the end of the war, they''ve been relegated as a future retrofit. As such, thirty-two guns have been emplaced. Five quadruple turrets, supplemented by six twins. For the light anti-aircraft battery, there are overall less. Eighteen in total spread out across nine twins," Admiral Jeffery pointed to the locations on the hull where the guns would be kept. "For a ship of around your size, you will have an average number of medium and small caliber guns. However, when it comes to your largest anti-aircraft guns, you have the same number as found on the fast United States battleships."


    Okay, when put like that. Sure, compared to American battleships, it wasn''t a whole lot. But given our size? That was an oppressive amount of firepower we had access to. We were smaller than most light cruisers. But then again, our superstructure might as well be a container for as many anti-aircraft batteries they could fit on a single ship. But still. Having the access to the same number of 5-inch guns as an Iowa was nothing to sneeze at.


    "Naturally, your armor is getting enhanced as well. While some of Vestal''s original ideas called for the implementation of a twelve-inch, all-or-nothing armor scheme, though this was rejected due to a few issues. Instead, your original protection will be replaced with an armor belt ranging from 12-inches in the midships that tapers down to 7-inches towards the bow and stern, making use of more modern knowledge to keep the weight of such a belt as light as possible. This would be further reinforced with a torpedo blister, to help against not only submarines, but aerial torpedo strikes," I blinked in surprise. They were considering all or nothing? Sure, that made sense, we were battleships, even if we were old. But putting an armor scheme meant for a battleship on a larger vessel?


    That hadn''t exactly gone well if I remembered my history. Of course, there would be a considerable difference between us and the Hippers. As our armor would be as thick as a proper battleship, unlike the German turtleback that the Hippers had. But the size might cause some oddities. Maybe that was why such designs were rejected in the end?


    "Your decks as well would see considerable improvements. Given how we intend to replace your boilers and turbines with more modern equipment, and the overhaul of your superstructure, we see no reason to increase your deck armor to increase defense against aerial assault and plunging shells. Alongside providing layered protection found on most other American Capital ships," Admiral Jeffery paused for a moment. "Which is to say nothing for the other fire control systems, electronics, and the other types of equipment that would be placed aboard. Presently, our estimates place you at gaining one to three thousand tons in displacement, possibly, with a top speed of twenty-one to twenty-two knots."


    I bit back a grimace. Our speed was only eighteen knots as was, so an increase of a few knots wasn''t exactly awful, but that did little to stop the bitter taste. Sure, being able to keep up with the main battle line may have been a bit much, but I''d still have hoped for a bit more. There was a limit to just how much they could do, I understood that. But such a speed would only be good for escorting transports and other, slower naval vessels. Which was an important task during wartime.


    Without proper supply lines, one couldn''t fight a war, much less win one. Sure, it wasn''t glamorous work, but necessary work nonetheless.


    "As for a combat roll, a few ideas have been pitched forward. First would be a large gun escort vessel for convoys, one that would be supported by light cruisers and destroyers as an anti-submarine screen. Mostly to aid in countermeasures against pocket battleships for forces lacking sufficient air cover or support to counteract such vessels. Another is an escort for smaller escort carriers and seaplane tenders. For many similar reasons as transport convoys," Admiral Jeffery paused for a moment. "And also to do everything in our power to make sure we don''t get caught with our pants down like at the Battle off Samar ever again."


    At that one, I winced. Okay, that was something I hadn''t considered, how differently the battle would have gone if there had been larger ships in the area. Given how shipgirls were just as much human as they were a ship, having anything that resembled a repeat of such a battle was probably for the best. Though against a dreadnought I doubt we would be able to accomplish anything of note, but regardless.


    "As for the time being, do you have any further questions?" Admiral Jeffery fell to rest, having been pacing back and forth across the room for the past several minutes. After a few seconds, Louisiana raised her hand. "Yes, Louisiana?"


    "I''m curious, how long would a refit of this extent take? I would imagine it would take a considerable amount of time," Louisiana cocked her head to the side. It was a good question, and I''d been wondering about the same one.


    "I''ll be blunt with both of you. This is less of a refit and more of a rebuild. Even with shipgirl physics working in your favor, this easily will end up being a two and a half, if not three-week process. Maybe a month, if complications arise," Admiral Jeffery let out a sigh, placing his hands against his desk.


    On one hand, that didn''t seem too long. At least, on paper, it didn''t. Especially compared to the repair and retrofit times of historical vessels. But still. Everywhere from seventeen to eighteen days expected, with up to a full thirty days if something went wrong? That was not a small chunk of time. Possibly up to a month of school was a lot to miss.


    Oh. Okay, something told me I wasn''t going to get that retrofit as I had originally been promised. Which explained why we were being told about it now, rather than closer to a long-term break.


    Because the retrofit wasn''t going to be for me. It was going to be for Louisiana.


    Disappointing, but at the same time. Understandable. When the promise of me getting a retrofit was made, I''d been the only Connecticut, and while they were expecting my awakening to help rouse my sisters, Louisiana arriving as quickly as she did was not something they had expected.


    Normally, they''d have to wait until one of my longer breaks from school. Winter would be possible, but honestly? I''d prefer it if I took Louisiana back to Kansas to meet the rest of my family, or bring them out here. One of the two. Which meant winter break was most likely out.


    Leaving summer break as the real only option. Which was long enough to avoid any major issues, while having free time available.


    "And how long will it take for all the equipment for said retrofit to arrive?" I asked, curious. Sure, unless it took a while, there was no chance of me being the recipient.


    "It''ll take anywhere from a month to a month and a half to acquire everything needed for a retrofit. We do have a decent amount of what is needed here at the moment, but not everything," Admiral Jeffery shook his head. "For a singular retrofit. I''m sorry, Kathrine. I know you were promised a retrofit, but given the circumstances."


    "I understand sir," I spoke once I was certain the Admiral had finished, Louisiana''s head suddenly tilting my way. "I''m still in school, while Louisiana is able and ready."


    "Plus, I looked up policy on the refit for underage natural borns," I chuckled a bit, "I''d have to get my parent''s permission, and given much had to be done as a concession for me to even be here after my first outing? Doubt I''d be able to push for a month out of school."


    I gave Louisania a reassuring grin, though for a moment it looked as if her face twisted when I mentioned my first outing. Must have been a trick of the light, as she began blinking tears from her eyes.


    "You mean it, ma souer?" Louisiana clasped my hands tightly in her own. "Truly?"


    "Of course, sis," I used her grip on my hands to pull my sister into a tight hug.

 Chapter 19

    The funny thing about routines was, that despite how easy they could be to settle into, they could be easy to disrupt. Especially when those who helped make those routines were no longer present. It would be two and a half weeks. Three weeks tops. I''d only known my sister for a short while, but her absence? It stung. More than I ever imagined it would.


    A few flicks of my pencil finished out the last of my history assignment, as I laid down on the cool tile floor. Naturally, part of the repair baths was sectioned off, for things such as refits. Given shipgirls were just as much human as they were a ship, it wasn''t all too surprising that refits were more akin to advanced surgery.


    As Louisiana''s sister, I was able to stay with her during parts of the operation. Parts. Not all. Sadly, as much as I wanted to, I was not able to take time off from school to stay with her. However, just about every other moment I could reasonably manage, I was there for her, watching her sleeping face as Vestal worked.


    It wasn''t like I didn''t trust the repair ship, far from it. It was just.


    My sister had been gone for so long. To have her back, but out of reach.


    I just didn''t want to lose her. Not again. As unlikely as such would be.


    So, I would keep watch. At least until the operation had finally finished. I''d even moved a sleeping bag into the area. Sure, there were already repercussions on my sleep schedule, but I didn''t care for that all too much.


    So long as I could make sure my sister stayed safe, then it would be worth every second.


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


    "So, that''s what happened in school today," I chuckled, shaking my head. That fight had caused no small bit of trouble, though I''d stayed as far away from it as humanly possible. Given how it didn''t involve us reincarnated shipgirls, I''d kept my distance throughout the whole afar. Sure, I could have very easily separated the two, but at the same time, that was not my circus, and thus, not my barrel of monkeys. Plus, I knew enough about PR that getting involved would simply be a lose-lose situation. So long as they weren''t hurting each other too badly, then getting involved would simply create headaches for other people.


    Something I''d rather avoid, personally. Headaches were never fun, especially ones created by the actions of others.


    Other than that, classes had been the same as they''d always been. Mostly waiting until I could catch the bus back to base, making as much use out of my free time to get as much schoolwork done as humanly possible. Of course, a decent chunk remained each night once I had arrived, meaning I was still working or reading. Or both, depending on the class. Contrary to some people''s belief, reading out of the textbook wasn''t a complete waste of time.


    It gave me a leg up, as it was.


    Still, things would seem crazy from an outside perspective. Louisiana was still asleep, so talking to her like this probably made me look crazy. It felt somewhat crazy, too, but talking to her like this felt, right? Maybe not exactly right, but it helped calm my nerves. Sure, it wasn''t much, but it was still something.


    But that didn''t stop the knot in my gut that despite that, I was missing something important.


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


    Admiral Kenneth looked at the pile resources, canisters of oil, bits of steel, nuts, bolts, and ammunition. It''d taken a bit of time to get everything built up. Hopefully, it would prove sufficient for a heavy cruiser or similar, if only to give his few Capital ships a bit more breathing room.


    He was more than aware of what was happening across the United States in San Diego. Louisiana''s summoning had not gone unnoticed by the other world powers, and he knew the Connecticut''s retrofit had many eyes upon it. He didn''t blame them, as it was only a matter of time before more pre-dreadnoughts would be summoned, intentional or otherwise.


    Still, it was good that Kathrine finally had a sister, even if she appeared quicker than anyone expected. His money had been split on New Hampshire being summoned at one of the many naval bases around New York, where South Carolina typically resided. Given the service history she shared with the dreadnought as an escort, it has made for a solid anchor to help her manifest. That was if she didn''t appear at the same base or close to her sister. It was a fifty-fifty chance in his eyes. Then there was the name ship of the class, Connecticut, which he thought would show up at her sister''s side.


    Instead, it was Louisiana. What little he had seen from her made her seem like just as much of a good role model as Kathrine had shown herself to be. From his understanding, Louisiana had already begun receiving her retrofit. He''d seen the design, and he was a bit surprised at the volume of anti-aircraft guns placed aboard. Nearly twice the number of twin five-inch guns than a Cleaveland, a vessel that had considerable more deck space, while the smaller Bofors and Orlikens still were a bit excessive.


    But after what happened the first time Kathrine sortied against an enemy aircraft carrier. That excessiveness might just have a purpose. Though they''d have to wait and see just how effective it was.


    "Sir? Are we ready to begin?" South Dakota saluted him, standing near the summoning pool, alongside Denver and Pheonix.


    "We are, South Dakota," he nodded, looking towards the pool as the music began to play. Already, he could feel the pressure beginning to build up in the air. He''d hardly gotten a chance to speak before the resources set aside began to flicker and fade, the water in the pool spinning and twirling, light rising off the surface. There was a crack.


    Then, strangely, it stopped. The water stilled, the light died. His eyes glanced over towards the materials, finding that they were gone. And the pressure was still in the air, unchanged. No, not unchanged. Growing stronger?


    "Well that was anti-cli," Denver didn''t get to finish her sentience before the pool erupted in a torrent of water, surging upward towards the ceiling. Admiral Kenneth shielded his eyes for a moment as gravity reasserted himself, crashing down like a hammer.


    It did not take long before the water to still, revealing a figure standing in the pool, where a figure in a familiar dress stood. It was blue, like Kathrine''s was, but with sleeves that went halfway down her arms. Likewise, there was a white handkerchief around her neck, but unlike Kathrine, she had white stockings, which, from his angle, looked as if they continued up into her knee-length dress.


    She looked about a half head shorter than Kathrine had been, last he saw her, with short curly hair that nearly matched Kathrines. If it wasn''t for the fact her hair was grey, almost appearing white in color. Then there were her green eyes, harsh and almost piercing with their intensity.


    "My name is Admiral Kenneth, of the United States Navy," he saluted, saying the words as he had said numerous times before. The shipgirl in the pool''s eyes narrowed for a moment as if evaluating him for some unseen quality.


    "I am BB-18, USS Connecticut, the first of my class," she returned his salute, "I heard you had a use for me. I do hope what I heard was right."


    Admiral Kenneth hid his frown quite well. Given Kathrine''s reaction, he figured that a few of her siblings might carry a grudge against the Navy. They were far from the only ships that did, after all. Almost every nation had more than a few who had some degree of issue or another, mostly due to poor treatment or outright negligence.


    Regardless, this would be interesting. He was going to have to wonder just how well Kathrine would take this though.


    Or how Connecticut would take knowing that two of her sisters had been already around.


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


    Louisiana speed across the water, with me bringing up the rear. As much as my eighteen knots allowed me to keep pace, at any rate.


    I wasn''t sure exactly how fast she was going, but it was not anywhere close to whatever it was they''d expected out of the retrofit. Louisiana had to be faster than that. Easily. Still nowhere near as fast as Connie, but certainly faster than intended. She was pulling away much too quickly to be going only 21 knots.


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    Still, as jealous as I was, I was even more excited by the revelation. I wasn''t sure if she was going fast enough to be included in a screening force for fleet carriers, but she had to be close. And if she was close? Then so would I, after the retrofit. More speed was far from a bad thing, even if we wouldn''t be able to keep up with pretty much any cruiser when it came to a chase, much less anything smaller. But that was what the range of the twelve-inch guns was for, after all.


    Of course, speed was only one part of the trails that I knew Lousania would be busy with over the next few days. Which would all sadly fall on school days, so I wasn''t going to be able to help all that much on that front. Still, Lousania already looked like she was getting the hang of it.


    I grinned at my sister as she turned to face me, a large smile on her face, unabashedly reaching ear to ear. Watching her have fun like this was nice.


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


    "You''re meaning to tell me that Louisiana is reaching twenty-five knots?" Vestal''s eyebrow creased, processing the information, the twitching of her fingers telling Admiral Jeffery that if she had them, she''d be sifting through blueprints until she found the right one.


    "At present, though that was during the speed trials. Still, that puts her at four knots faster than what was originally designed. A knot or two would be a pleasant surprise. However, my primary concern at the moment is if you would be able to repeat this accomplishment," Admiral Jeffery ran his fingers through his beard. Vestal nodded.


    "I''d have to look through my notes, and run a few tests, but I should be able to. Wouldn''t want Kansas to end up getting the shorter end of the stick by mistake," Vestal seemed to chuckle to herself slightly.


    "And Connecticut," Admiral Jeffery added, as Vestal''s eyes widened in surprise. "I got word from Admiral Kenneth a few days ago. He managed to summon Connecticut."


    "Do Lousania and Kansas know?" Vestal frowned, pausing for a moment.


    "Not at the moment. Louisiana was still completing her retrofit when I received the news, while Kathrine has been distracted by her sister''s said retrofit, so I figured the added stress of her sister being summoned on the other side of the country wouldn''t be worth it. However, with that cleared up, I''ll be notifying the two of them shortly," he still wasn''t entirely sure what would be done on that front, however.


    "And what exactly is the plan on that front? On one hand, I know Admiral Kenneth would appreciate another ship in the fleet, but I don''t think he has the facilities to complete a retrofit of the scale performed on Louisiana," Vestal frowned, voicing many of his concerns out loud.


    "From what I understand, plans are very much fluid, at the moment," Admiral Jeffery frowned, for several reasons. From what Kenneth had told him, Connecticut carried a grudge. A pretty harsh one, at that, and seemed to have a little issue showing it. Kathrine hadn''t displayed any such behavior, nor had Louisiana.


    Which created quite a few complicating factors. While the Connecticut class, to his knowledge, hadn''t been treated poorly, they had been built just before Dreadnaught entered construction, some of them, even after that. Which was naturally going to cut into their time in service, one cut even shorter by the Washington Naval Treaty, which saw nearly all Pre-Dreadnaughts scrapped.


    It wasn''t too big of a surprise that a vessel that had originally been built as the apex of American engineering, only for them to be rendered near obsolete in less than a decade. Most vessels could count on more than a few decades in service, even if older vessels got relegated to training or put in reserve. But in four short years, they had been rendered yesterday''s news. Less than that, in truth. The class was on a time limit the moment Dreadnought was laid down, being commissioned the same year the Connecticut class was.


    So ultimately, it wasn''t too surprising that there would be a grudge. Even if Kathrine didn''t seem to hold one, but she had also spent time as a human before this, likely changing her thoughts on the matter. He wasn''t sure about Louisiana though. At first glance, she seemed just as well-mannered and straight-laced as Kathrine had been. More in both respects, as well as being considerably more ladylike than her naturalborn sister.


    But as for a grudge like the one Connecticut was described to have? He hadn''t seen any evidence of such a thing. If she had hidden such, she hid it with the skill to make even a professional spy jealous. However, at moment, he had no reason to keep an eye on her. Even with a grudge, she probably wouldn''t do anything too out of hand, even by shipgirl standards.


    "Fluid?" Vestal shook her head, likely picking up on how much he could say about matters, and more importantly, what he couldn''t say. "That doesn''t sound promising."


    He wouldn''t disagree with Vestal''s assessment, but in the long run, he doubted there would be considerable issues on the matter. Headaches being plentiful where Connecticut ended up staying? Especially early on when she would be operating on that grudge with very little time to build up trust. By the barrel full, in fact.


    Of course, then there was the matter of Kathrine''s first sortie, an event that once again had him swearing. It wouldn''t take long for Connecticut to find out about that mess, and he doubted she would take that revelation well, even with the one responsible being removed from his position. That was the biggest concern he had, at the moment. If anything, it would only serve to confirm Connecticut''s suspicions. In her eyes, the Navy just attempted to toss aside one of her sisters for being outdated.


    In short, the fool''s actions were still biting them in the ass, and it likely wasn''t going to get any better with each sister summoned. Even if Kathrine was willing to leave it as water under the bridge and Louisiana listening to her sister over the matter, there was no guarantee that pattern would hold.


    Which left anywhere from four to five pre-dreadnaughts with grudges and the ability to see at least someone in the Navy had been willing to throw them aside. Why was it so hard for some Admirals to remember that shipgirls were also human beings? It was actions like this that caused no end of trouble. One would think people would have enough good sense or self-preservation to avoid angering a shipgirl to that much of an extent.


    Still, the man''s punishment would hopefully go some way to show them that such matters would be taken with the seriousness such demanded. It wouldn''t be much, but it would be something, and sadly, that would have to do for the time being. He just hoped it would be enough.


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


    Connecticut''s teeth ground against another, rage nearly radiating off her body in thick, angry waves, threatening to drown anyone around her. She was tempted to march out at put that bastard''s head on a pike! He had hurt her sister! Tried to get her killed!


    Two things were stopping her from doing so, however. Firstly, she had zero ideas on where to find the man. A considerable obstacle and she doubted, despite what she had heard, that anyone else would know either. Even if they did, they''d be, unwilling, to give her such information. Nor would such actions accomplish anything beyond getting her into trouble. She knew that. But it didn''t make the image any less cathartic than it already was.


    To make matters worse was the fact that her youngest present sister was on the other side of the country, so she couldn''t fix what crap she had been feed. A few months ago, it wouldn''t have been an issue, as Kansas had been here.


    She wasn''t entirely sure why the move had to happen in the first place. Born human? Why exactly had that been so important? They were Kansas''s sisters and family, not anyone else.

 Chapter 20

    "Connecticut was summoned?" Louisiana''s voice was foggy with shock and surprise, eyes beginning to mist with tears of happiness. "When? Where?"


    "I was informed a few days ago about her summoning," Admiral Jeffery spoke from behind his desk. "As it was during your retrofit, I decided to wait until after it was completed before informing you."


    A slight frown grew on my face. I could read enough between the lines. Louisiana couldn''t be told, and he didn''t want to bother me with even more stress. Which was, fair, as painful as it was to admit.


    "As for where," he paused for a moment as if about to chuckle. "Kathrine should be quite familiar with the base."


    Wait. What? I should be familiar? But I''ve only been on one other shipgirl base in my life! That would mean!


    "She''s been summoned by Admiral Kenneth?" I struggled to keep from shouting out the words in shock as Admiral Jeffery nodded. "In Florida?"


    "Florida? She was summoned on the other side of the country? How are you planning on getting her here?" Louisiana voiced my questions out loud, beating me to the punch.


    "At the moment, we''re still working on things. While an ocean route is possible, and the least time-consuming option given the Panama Canel, Admiral Kenneth doesn''t have the numbers to provide a sufficient screening force without critically compromising his patrol duties," Admiral Jeffery frowned, and I understood his concern.


    While the Gulf of Mexico, alongside the Caribbean Sea, had been entirely purged of Abyssal''s once the United States and Mexican Navy''s had enough spare shipgirls to do so, it wasn''t unheard of for a submarine, or even a small surface to slip in through the cracks. An old Predreadnaught would be an appealing target for an Abyssal submarine, even with a screen.


    Then there was the Panama Canel itself, which had been the focus of a large number of Abyssal''s during the early days, even being overrun, but the people of Panama had extracted an extremely red toll against the Abyssal''s for every inch of ground they took. The location remained a popular strike point for Abyssal''s coming up from the Southern Atlantic, or in a few cases, the Pacific.


    So to nobody''s surprise, both ends of the canal looked more like fortresses, with numerous shore batteries, anti-air emplacements, the whole nine yards. All in an attempt to make sure it didn''t fall again. It was certainly important for the shipping of goods, but it was more for our allies, rather than for America overall. With trains and planes, hell, even cars, if the need was dire, we were able to transfer shipgirls from one coast to another in a fairly swift manner. Even supplies weren''t as big of an issue as many other countries, as America was still abundant with resources.


    It also helped that our railroads and highways got a significant reworking as well, which was also nice for civilians.


    However, despite the United States and Mexico''s best efforts, the Caribbean nations had not weathered the Abyssal attacks well. Sure, such a statement would be considered obvious, as even larger nations with bigger armies and navies had been considerable damaged in the assault. It was probably their proximity to the United States that stopped them from falling at the end of the day.


    Sadly, the same couldn''t be said for many smaller islands in the Pacific. Many of those fell without so much as a warning, and well, it was with fortune, bravery, and luck, that Hawaii, as well as the much larger Philippines, alongside Australia, New Zealand, New Guinea, Tawana, and Indonesia, didn''t fall to the Abyssal onslaught during those early days.


    Then there was Japan, an enemy from the Second World War now turned ally. Though without the Abyssal threat, I''d imagine the region would be even tenser than it already was, which was saying a bit. From what I understood, Japan has its fleet from that very same conflict back?


    Well, it was safe to say it had ruffled more than a fair share of feathers in the region. The scars from World War Two ran fairly deep for a lot of nations, creating a similar reaction among several nations in Europe that saw the arrival of German shipgirls from the same conflict with considerable concern.


    None had taken it worse than China did, however. It didn''t help that the initial wave of attacks had crippled, if not sunk, most of their surface ships, but many of the ones that had under construction as well, though this was far from an isolated incident on the world stage. However, with their naval ambitions effectively strangled, and a shipgirl force that could be considered meager at the most generous of estimates had been a considerable egg on their face.


    It was pretty much the equivalent of flipping the board. Then Japan getting their World War Two navy back was another blow to their national pride. Relationships between the two nations had never been great, but this had soured them considerably.


    Honestly, given what Japan did during the war? I didn''t exactly blame those looking toward them with shifty eyes. The last time Japan had been the primary power in the Western Pacific, things had not gone well for a lot of nations and a lot of people.


    However, it did seem like the lessons of the past had sunk in, at least to an extent, as far as I''d heard. I mean, if a shipgirl had visited that shrine, I doubt the Japanese Government would be able to keep it under wraps. That would be an international incident, and that was putting it kindly.


    "So, what other options are available?" Louisiana frowned, crossing her fingers under her chin. Honestly, there probably weren''t that many. I was hoping Connecticut didn''t go out without actually being prepared. I''d learned from that mistake, but only because I lived long enough to do so. Having my sister make the same one was something I didn''t want.


    "Right now, we seem to be caught in a catch twenty-two, if you would. Nobody wants to send her out without a retrofit, on the off chance they run into something, nor does Admiral Kenneth have the numbers necessary for a long-range convey mission. But at the same time, his base does not have the facilities for a full retrofit to be given," Admiral Jeffery shook his head. While the latter wasn''t a big issue, as shipgirls could probably be drawn from a larger base, the former was concerning. No retrofit meant not being sent out, which meant she wasn''t going anywhere unless no-ocean routes were considered.


    While such options did exist, there was still an issue. Weight.


    Could a plane or a train carry a ship of our displacement? A plane was unlikely, even the large cargo ones. I doubt they could accommodate the displacement of a torpedo boat, much less a pre-dreadnaught. That left trains, which was another option I doubted. Sure, trains could and often did carry considerable amounts of goods, but at the same time, that weight was spread out over dozens of cars, not condensed into one


    I scowled, quickly realizing where this was going. It was going to have to wait until Connecticut got her weight under control so that she could be moved safely from Florida to California. Which, if Louisania was any indication of how long it took for a normally summoned shipgirl to pick up the skill?


    Though, the fact she had just spent the past three weeks being retrofitted likely had done little to help matters, as she was not only out of practice, but also dealing with her new displacement. Still, the prospect of not getting to see my oldest sister in person for what amounted to several weeks, if not longer, was a bitter prospect.


    Understandable, yes. But that didn''t change the annoyance of it all. But the Admiralty didn''t want us on the ocean floor, and given our age, caution, no matter how much I didn''t like it, was warranted.


    "Sadly, at the moment, our best, and most importantly, safest option, is to wait until Connecticut learns how to change her displacement to a human weight," Admiral Jeffery confirmed my exact thoughts, as my eyes flickered over to my sister. His choice to empathize safety was more than likely a smart one, without a doubt chosen on purpose.


    "I," Louisiana''s mouth creased as if struggling to find the right words to say. "I understand Sir. I might not like it, but I do understand the reasoning behind it."


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    "Thank you," Admiral Jeffery nodded, before turning to me. "However, I don''t think it should be too difficult to arrange for you three to meet and talk at some point, even if it isn''t in person."


    Louisiana gave me a confused look, as my eyebrows rose in realization. Modern technology. I''d probably have to give South Dakota a call, just to make sure Connecticut had help on her end if she needed it.


    Though there was probably no if about it. I wasn''t entirely sure how well Louisiana could handle a phone, and she''d been around the device longer than Connecticut would have. I''d showed her how to use it, and she''d gotten one for quickly being contacted as I had been, but I still needed to get her a personal one.


    I''d be waiting on that in particular for a bit more of a personal event, though that plan might change at this rate.


    Plus, Admiral Jeffery wasn''t referencing phones, or at least, I didn''t think he was. Video chat programs like Skype still existed, and, quite frankly, played a larger role in overseas communication, even if we weren''t exactly able to put up as many satellites as we used to. One part is budget allocation, the other being that nobody wanted to dump rockets into the oceans where they could be picked up by Abyssal''s.


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    "This is?" Louisiana looked at the computer screen, with Skype opened up and a small camera perched atop. I hadn''t toyed around with the computer in our shared dorm room. Mostly because my laptop, while not powerful, did everything I needed it to do, which left the computer sitting, gathering dust.


    "It''s Skype. It''s kind of like getting to see a picture of a person but in real-time," I frowned slightly into my phone as it ringed. If I had Connecticut''s phone number, heck, even if she had a phone, I would have been able to get in touch with her directly, and hopefully, walk her through the steps.


    But I didn''t. Quite frankly, I didn''t have many of the other shipgirls phone numbers at Admiral Kenneth''s base. I wasn''t entirely sure if Pheonix bothered to keep hers charged half the time, much less answer, while I''d rather toss my phone off a bridge than store Denver''s number.


    Which left South Dakota as my only real contact besides Admiral Kenneth himself, and after everything he already did for me, I didn''t wish to bother him any further. Plus, there was no doubt in my mind he was busy doing Admiral things.


    "Hello?" finally, at what was likely the last ring before it went to voicemail, South Dakota answered. Or, at least, I thought it was South Dakota. There was a strain in her voice as if she was struggling with something while answering the phone.


    "Is this South Dakota?" I asked, keeping in mind proper phone etiquette, and making sure I had the right person. Plus, I wanted to set a good example of what to do in front of my older sister.


    "This is," the person on the other end didn''t get a chance to finish, as she grunted, and a lot of angry shouting occurred near the other end. "She. Sorry, Kathrine, but you know how Denver can be, opening her mouth and inserting her foot."


    "Opening your mouth and inserting your foot is something I don''t think generally applies when you''re intentionally going for a reaction," I scowled, remembering Denver''s antics well enough. There was no doubt in my mind that she did what she did on purpose. She didn''t do what she did on accident.


    Basically, a troll. That''s all Denver was really. No surprise that she and my brother got along so well. Two peas in a pod.


    "Fair enough," South Dakota let out another grunt, clearly dragging someone away as they shouted at Denver. I was only making out every third word or so, making it much more akin to screaming than anything else.


    This was a bit surprising, given how most of the people stationed at that base were likely used to Denver''s shenanaginary.


    Wait a minute. Wait just a minute there.


    "Are you by chance, with Connecticut?" I asked, as the lightbulb finally flicked on in my head. It would make sense. If she was my sister, then she might find Denver''s antics just as aggravating, as I did. Plus, this almost was similar to, that, incident. South Dakota let out a chuckle, despite the strain she was under.


    "I was wondering how long it would take you to put everything together," South Dakota''s amusement could be felt on the other end. I was a bit surprised we were able to talk with all Connecticut''s shouting on her side of the phone.


    "Yeah, I''m sorry this is a bit more of a business call," I rubbed the back of my head awkwardly.


    "It''s fine. School should be keeping you busy and out of trouble, anyway, and I was already dragging your sister in that direction," South Dakota''s voice came through a lot cleaner as the shouting suddenly ceased at around the mentioning of sister. Only for a new set of noises to start coming from the other end, as South Dakota seemed to be struggling with something completely different.


    "Text me the information of the computer you''re at. I''ll help Connecticut get her stuff set up as quickly as I can," there was a loud clacking sound in the background as the other end of the line went dead. It didn''t take much to figure out what was going on.


    Connecticut heard sister, and likely immediately went for the phone. South Dakota, likely not wanting it broken in a struggle against a shipgirl who likely didn''t know her strength yet, decided to end the call before it got shattered. Which was fair. Phones weren''t exactly cheap, one way or another. Even if they were more like bricks compared to smartphones, they could still be broken.


    I quickly double-checked the information before sending out the text, sending the information hurtling across the country before placing my phone back in my pocket. It would probably take them a few minutes, which meant Louisiana and I had a little time to burn. Not much time, granted.


    "So," Louisiana looked at me, puzzled. Right, she''d only heard half the conversation.


    "South Dakota is getting Connecticut to a computer and will help her out getting everything working," I grinned. "It should only take a few minutes at most."


    Should was the operative term, but it really shouldn''t take that long, regardless.


    "What exactly is South Dakota like?" My sister''s question gave me pause. It wasn''t what I had been expecting, nor was it one I could quite put into words. Not easily, at any rate.


    I mean, she saved my life. How exactly could that level of gratitude be put into simple words? It couldn''t.


    "She''s very compassionate and kind, but pretty strict," I bit on my tongue, preventing a few words from slipping out. Sisterly was probably not a word I wanted to use in this context. "She saved my life after my first sortie went wrong."


    My face flushed a bit, both out of embarrassment for how stupid I was acting back then, but also due to, other, reasons, that I didn''t want to talk about. I''d shown her the videos of the event, or at least, what passed as such.


    "She sounds like quite the interesting battleship. I do recall the ship class they were working on that had been canceled by the Washington naval treaty. Is she the same one, or was there another class built with the same name?" Louisiana''s eyebrow raised, though I understood her curiosity. She wasn''t wrong, as a class of the same name had been canceled due to the treaty. I didn''t know if any of them had been laid down, or ever summoned, however.


    "No, she''s the lead ship of her class, but was laid down in 1939, following the North Carolina class," I grinned slightly.


    "So, she partook in the Second Great War?" Louisiana nodded her head, eyes faintly closed. "And saved your life as well? Then Connecticut should be in good hands, I''d imagine."


    Louisiana wasn''t wrong. She saved my life in the middle of an intense firefight.


    Then there was a click, as the skype program began to ring. Excitedly, nearly stumbling into the chair, I immediately clicked on the answer button.


    The first thing I noticed was her eyes. Green, nearly jade in color, as if they could pierce me like a bullet. Then came her hair. It was grey, no silver, almost like snow, but merely a few shades darker. It was kept short, like mine was, with curls sprouting this way and that, much like my own.


    "Sister?"

 Chapter 21

    "Hi sis," I felt a slight flush to my cheeks, unsure of myself. There was a difference between this and meeting in person, I could already feel it. There would be no hugs this day. A screen denied us that much.


    "Louisiana? Kansas?" I shoved down the almost instinctive bristling as Connecticut fought with the camera, almost seemingly cursing under her breath. "Is that you?"


    "It is, grande soeur," Louisiana spoke, glancing at me.


    "And please, call me Kathrine," I followed, Taking Louisiana''s hint. It was a conversation to better get out of the way now, compared to later. It wasn''t like I was going to have some variation of it at least three more times in the future.


    "Why?" A surprisingly blunt question. "And why the hell are you speaking French?"


    Louisiana didn''t seem all that perturbed by Connecticut''s bluntness, hiding her mouth behind her hand as she giggled.


    "Because I want to," even though the screen, I could see Connecticut''s eyes roll as if she had expected that answer from the beginning.


    "In my cause, it''s because I was born as a human," I kept my eyes on Connecticut''s facial features, waiting for some kind of change.


    "What?" the look on her face was almost priceless. Almost. "Since when was that a thing?"


    "Since people were able to summon anthropomorphized warships to battle the legions of hell spawning out of the ocean?" I raised my eyebrow. Though, to be fair, there were more than a few things about natural borns that didn''t exactly make sense. Unlike summons, the ship portion was there at birth, completely asleep. It raised a few questions, some of which were fun, to ask, but nobody wanted to answer. Or even had the answers too. How did you go about proving if this had occurred in the past, after all?


    "Fair," Connecticut shrugged. "I''m not sure how that works though. All of this is, strange."


    "On that, we must agree," Louisiana nodded. "I did not believe such experiences to be possible, yet it is truly the case. Though according to our soeur, the strangeness runs both ways."


    "How exactly does that work, anyway? I can still tell that you''re our sister, but?" Connecticut''s eyes narrowed.


    "Honestly, nobody is sure about the finer details. As far as we know, somehow, a ship''s soul gets mixed with a human one at some point along the line, then bam, shipgirl," I shrugged. Honestly, I hadn''t concerned myself with the details a whole lot, either. Because things could get downright freaky, like trying to use natural born as proof of Predetermination and God. "There''s a lot of conjecture, but all of it lacks any real evidence to it. Evidence we probably won''t ever get without a time machine or similar device."


    After all, it would be difficult to prove that natural borns occurred in the past. If there were no Abyssal around to wake them up, then we never would have known.


    " Speaking of differences," Connecticut brought her face closer and closer to the screen. "Your ship portions look different from what they used to be."


    Wait. She could see that? Through the camera? How? Why?


    I couldn''t do that, even if I squinted!


    "That is because, grande soeur, I received a retrofit fairly recently," Louisiana''s voice sounded almost, teasing. "Our souer also received modification as well, after an incident."


    "What!" unlike last time, Connecticut was less asking a question and more shouting. Loudly. My head jolted backward from the sudden noise, ringing already beginning to fill my ears.


    "So he wasn''t lying?" Connecticut slumped into her chair. That was not the reaction I was expecting. What exactly had been going on back there? I hope she wasn''t causing trouble. "They intend to make use of us again."


    "It does appear to be the case, yes," Louisiana nodded. "Though seeing protected cruisers that are larger than we are, in dimensions, at least, is still strange."


    Protected cruisers? She meant light cruisers, right?


    "That doesn''t explain your equipment, though," Connecticut looked towards me.


    "Haven''t had the open time for a complete retrofit yet," I shrugged. "I''ve been busy."


    "Busy? Busy with what?" her eyebrow raised as if she didn''t believe what I was saying.


    "School, mostly," I said, watching her reaction carefully.


    "School? Why would you need?" her face twisted for a moment as if she just realized something. "Right. Born human. I completely forgot about that already."


    "It''s no big deal," I shrugged. It stung a little, but I remember what New Hampshire had said. She implied that newly summoned shipgirls had a hard time with the whole natural-born concept. Might have been lucky with Louisania being summoned first. Or maybe she was just better at hiding her thoughts, while Connecticut wore her heart on her sleeve.


    "There will be a long enough break for me to get the full retrofit eventually, though they''re going to have to wait until I''ve graduated before training and missions start in earnest," I shook my head. Of course, I was blessed as is to even be here. My parents were not exactly pleased and set some very firm ground rules for me being here after the initial incident. Though to be fair, most of those things were standard practice for some type.


    "So a partial one, then?" Connecticut clasped her hands under her chin. "What does this have to do with this ''incident'' I keep hearing about?"


    "Well," I winced. Beating around the bush wasn''t going to help anyone, so I might as well rip the bandage off on this one.


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


    I kept a careful eye on Connecticut''s face. It was strangely blank. No, not quite blank. There was something just under the surface. Bubbling. Simmering. Boiling.


    "I''m going to kill him," her face didn''t even twitch, as if she was saying she was going to take out the trash. "I mean, I was planning on doing that since I first heard about this whole mess, but hearing about it from your mouth just passes me off even more!"


    "No!" I shouted, rubbing my temples, before my eyes widened in realization. No, in hindsight, they''d probably just tell her. Denver wouldn''t be able to keep her mouth shut, so it would be best to hear it from them. "Look, the guy''s been sacked. I don''t even think he could get a job sacking groceries at Walmart at this point. He''s not worth it."


    "Don''t care. He tried to get you killed, either intentionally or through his mind-numbing incompetence. I''m not going to let that stand!" Connecticut ground out, practically growling out the words.


    "And it hasn''t been let stand, by literally anyone. Let the sleeping dog lie. He isn''t going to trouble anyone else ever again," I put just as much weight behind my tone as Connecticut put hers, while Louisiana remained silent. She''d been quiet for most of our conversation. I wasn''t entirely sure why. I hadn''t missed her facial expressions during our talk on what had happened. Even if Louisiana wasn''t inclined to bury the hatchet, she wasn''t picking it up either, which is about as good as I could hope for.


    "Fine," Connecticut let out a whine of annoyance. "But I reserve the right to punch him in the face if our paths ever cross."


    "That''s battery though," I groaned, rubbing my temples as a headache began to brew behind them. "You can''t just commit battery against a former admiral, whether or not they deserved it."


    I was thankful that she had no idea how to use the internet. If she didn''t know how to make use of technology, then she can''t figure out what the man looks like. At least until we get her out here, where the odds of them crossing dropped into the extremely unlikely territory. Seriously. The spiteful, pitiful old man wasn''t worth the effort of seeking out revenge. What''s done is done. Being very publicly booted out of the Navy for nearly getting an underage, natural-born shipgirl killed?


    Such wouldn''t do him any favors with his career going up in smoke around him. The only types of groups that such an act would do him any favors with? Even being contacted by such would put him in even more hot water than he just got himself out of. Unless spite overwhelmed good sense, which, to be fair, would always be in the cards, then he wouldn''t try to reach out or get in contact with such organizations.


    They might try to reach out to him, but that wasn''t exactly my department. That was more of an FBI and CIA sort of deal. In my opinion, he was already getting a harsh enough punishment for his actions. He crashed his career, had absolutely no prospects in anything else he tried to do in life, as no business would want someone with his degree of stigma attached to their company, even if it was scrubbing toilets.


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    No need to go around stirring the pot over it. Doing that might earn him sympathy, which was something I didn''t want.


    "Look. He''s ruined his own life, and is going to have to deal with that basic fact for however long he has left. There''s no need to go out and try and pick a fight over this, okay?" I ground out, hoping to get the message through her thick skull. He. Wasn''t. Worth. It. He would never be worth it.


    "Honestly, it''s a more painful punishment than anything you could reasonably get away with inflicting on him," I crossed my arms. I''d put my foot on the ground too, loud enough for her to hear it, but I didn''t want to break anything.


    "Reasonably," Connecticut frowned, scratching her chin as I groaned, resisting the urge to repeatedly smash my face into the desk the computer rests on. "But fine, since you seem to think the punishment is, sufficient, but I don''t think the rest of our sisters will share in that opinion."


    A bridge I''d have to cross three more times, granted, but only three more. After that, we were home free. Of course, it would probably take a tank battalion or two, if Connecticut was anything to go by.


    "But off that note, how have things been going for you, since you got summoned," I leaned back in my chair, hoping to get the topic changed for good.


    "It''s, odd," Connecticut frowned. "It''s been nearly a century. So much has changed. The Second Great War, something we never thought would happen, was fought. With it, the dreadnought, what had supplanted us, had been rendered obsolete."


    I couldn''t ignore the slight grin on her face as she spoke those words. The supplanting of dreadnaughts by the aircraft carrier was something she almost took glee in. That was worrying. I hope there wasn''t a chip in her shoulder over the march of technology. Sure, it sucked, but that was the nature of things.


    "And despite the Second Great War, those that fought against each other are now allies," Connecticut nodded. Something that was, generally, touch and go for a while. That went without understatement. It had taken a while for things to smooth out. Scars left by war were not things that healed easily. That was simply the nature of things.


    "Still, I have no idea about what to do with the new battleships though," her expression turned to a more dour one. "They''re so strange. And some of them have weird clothes."


    Right. She was operating on late 19th, early 20th-century clothing sensibilities. Louisiana probably was as well, now that I thought about it. Oh, they were going to have a heart attack the moment they laid eyes on some of the more, modern, swimwear. It''s a damn shame nobody went to the beach anymore these days. Even the one piece I had would be worth the reaction alone, much less some of the things I''ve seen worn.


    "South Dakota is chill," I said, trying to hide my sudden bout of chuckles. "She saved my life you know."


    Sure, she hadn''t been the only one, but it was her shields that had kept me sheltered and safe.


    "Indeed, ma souer," Louisiana hummed from next to me. "I owe her thanks. All of us do."


    There was a subtle hint to Louisiana''s words, as well as in her eyes.


    "I know, I know," Connecticut raised her hands as she muttered. "I''ll apologize to her eventually."


    My eyes widened. I didn''t think we were intended to have picked up the last bit, but it came across clear as day all the same.


    "Apologize? Apologize for what?" my eyes narrowed. "You better not be creating trouble for her."


    "I''m not! We just got up to a rocky start, is all," Connecticut looked down at her feet, but I wouldn''t be buying what she said even if she hadn''t. I heard the shouting when I called South Dakota. Sure, part of it could be the larger battleship restraining her from potentially mauling Denver, and while that was certainly worthy of an apology, it seemed to run differently than that. Especially because it sounded like South Dakota was already struggling to get Connecticut to the computer room without Denver''s intervention. Especially with that whole eventually bit. There was something more going on here.


    Louisiana chuckled faintly. "Now, grande soeur, be honest about what''s wrong."


    Good to know I wasn''t the only one who didn''t believe what Connecticut was saying.


    "It''s nothing. We just got off on the wrong foot!" Connecticut said again but was no less convincing than she had been the first time.


    "No, no, we are talking this one out," I was putting my foot down on this one. Sometimes people just didn''t get along, and that was fine, but there was more to it than just that. It better not be because Connecticut had a grudge against battleships or something. "I don''t want you to be carrying a grudge because of something nobody has any control over."


    "No control? What a joke," Connecticut scowled, looking as if she was about to kick something. Perhaps I''d poked a nerve. "We never got a chance to shine. Part of the Great White Fleet, but even by that point, we were obsolete. All because the Brits had to reinvent Naval combat."


    Connecticut spit out the words as if they were poison on her tongue. "And we had to follow them, too."


    "But that happens to every ship ever laid down. Eventually, another class will come, with bigger guns, better armor, better speed," I understood where my sister was coming from. We were laid down and were rendered nearly obsolete in a matter of years.


    That sucked, it really did. But technology marches on, and during that period, the advancement of shipbuilding technology was lightning fast. You could build a ship with all the bells and whistles, only for it to be outdated by the time it got off the slipway.


    Without the Washington Naval Treaty, it only would have gotten more out of hand. Even if it was the treaty that had nearly all pre-dreadnoughts scrapped, baring a handful of coastal defense ships for Germany, and Mikasa, who was embedded in concrete, the odds of us seeing service again were non-existent.


    "I know that! Connecticut brought her fist down with a sickening crunch, splinters flying through the air as a chunk of the table came flying off.


    "It still doesn''t change that I should have been able to do more, for both of you. Maybe they could have kept us around for longer. But I failed everyone else instead," Connecticut''s head dropped down. "I failed all of you. If I had been able to fight harder, then maybe."


    Louisiana and I shared a look. This, was not what I had expected. This was not what Louisiana had been expecting either.


    "Sis, you could have wrestled the entire High Sea''s Fleet into submission by yourself and it still wouldn''t have changed a damn thing. Nobody is the blame. Yourself included," my expression softened. I hadn''t realized she was blaming herself for all this.


    "Our petite souer is right. You are being too hard on yourself. While, I, myself, also do not care for how short our run was, I would also be unable to deny that it was a good one all the same," Louisiana nodded, echoing my sentiment.


    "Thanks," Connecticut rubbed her eyes with a cloth she pulled from, somewhere. "I needed to hear that."


    I smiled gently. Was the problem magically fixed? Doubtful. The root probably remained in place, but the first step in fixing a problem was admitting that one was had. This was a good first step. One with hopefully many more to follow.


    A noise came from the other side of the screen, one I couldn''t quite understand.


    "Sorry, but I think we might have to cut this shorter than we planned," Connecticut wiped the last of the tears from her eyes. "Hopefully, I''ll be in California sooner rather than later."


    "Agreed, grande souer," Louisiana hummed, a soft smile on her face.


    "Don''t be afraid to get in touch with us," I nodded, giving an awkward wave to the camera. "It might be a bit difficult if you don''t have a phone."


    "But I can ask South Dakota to send the message, I understand," she gave a slight salute, fumbling for a moment with something. "Oh, and before I forget. Kan, Kathrine, you''re in charge of keeping Louisiana out of trouble until I get there, okay?"


    Connecticut didn''t even bother to close out of the video call, bolting out the door at top speed.


    "Do you have an idea what she''s talking about with that last bit?" I looked at Louisiana. Why was I in charge of keeping her out of trouble? Shouldn''t it be the other way around, because she''s the older sister?


    "I''m not sure, petite soeur," Louisiana''s face also looked slightly perplexed by the statement.


    Oh well, I''m sure it was nothing.