A/N: With all the compliments and positive feedback from my first Kantai Collection fiction, A New Life, I decided to write a continuation for that story. This first chapter is basically a rewrite of A New Life but has a couple changes and a lot added on. Now without further ado, let's get started!
PS: Happy Independence Day to any viewers in the United States!
Iron Maidens
-1-
A New Life
Who are they?
What do they want?
Where do they come from?
By the start of the second decade of the 21st century, the ocean levels have risen due to melting glaciers, land reclamation, and other factors. As if it was a queue, a mysterious fleet appeared in the eastern Pacific Ocean. They were quickly dubbed the 'Shinkaisei-kan', or 'Abyssals' by the Japanese.
From destroyers to super dreadnaughts, the facade of the Abyssals range from great monstrosities to the most innocent looking girl. The most common appearance is that of a young woman.
This new threat slowly began to cut and disrupt communications and shipping routes which caused discomfort in developed countries and disorder in undeveloped countries.
To prevent the Abyssals from doing any further damage, the Japanese fought back with every piece of equipment they've got but were quickly crushed.
And just when all hope seemed lost, a small light illuminated the darkness.
Souls.
The souls of old warships.
The souls that lay dormant for so long have finally awoken and were reborn as young women. Wearing special gear and equipment, these 'Kanmusus' or 'Ship Girls' were able to take to the seas and bring the fight to the Abyssals as humanity's last hope.
However, so far only Japan had such heroines that stepped up to fight. Everyone else were either skeptical about such beings existing or hadn't had a single girl that stepped up to the plate.
But as the number of reports of attacked, destroyed, and missing ships and planes began to pile higher and higher, the other countries would not be able to ignore the truth any longer.
The halls of the emergency room were crowded with doctors, nurses, residents, and gurneys. Some were busy rushing patients to operation rooms, others stood along the walls to talk to family members of patients. As the hospital staff rushed to and fro, there was one woman who was driven by urgency, but was not a doctor, a nurse, or a resident. It was an officer of the United States Navy.
She is Commander Samantha Ackerman. She is in her late twenties and wore her Navy Service Uniform. She's tall, taller than the average woman, with dark red hair tied up in a bun, and navy blue eyes. As a Commander, she serves as the second-in-command on Arleigh Burke-class destroyer, USS Sampson.
Samantha continued her brisk pace as she squeezed through the crowd. She had gotten a call from the hospital, telling her that her sister was in a car accident and was in the emergency room. She anxiously looked at her watch. It has been only three minutes since she stepped foot into the hospital, but it felt like hours have already past. Not wanting to waste anymore time, she went to the nearest reception desk.
"Excuse me. I got a call saying my sister is here," Samantha said breathlessly.
"Her name?" the receptionist asked.
"Hope Ackerman."
"In the room right behind you, ma'am."
Samantha turned around. Everything around her blurred into the background as she slowly walked towards the curtained door. She stepped aside to let a nurse out before entering the room herself. Inside, her sister, two years her senior, lay on gurney. She was in a hospital gown with her intact clothes folded neatly on a chair. Her dark green hair spread across her pillow.
"Is that you, Sammie?" Hope asked groggily.
"Yes. Yes, it's me," Samantha said as she took off her peaked cap.
Hope blinked her eyes and squinted. She put her hand on her face as she looked for something.
"Can you get my glasses?" Hope asked.
"Sure," Samantha said as she looked around.
"They could be in my purse."
Samantha found Hope's purse on a table next to the chair that held her clothes and, sure enough, the glasses were in there. She put the spectacles on Hope, who then looked up and down her body.
"It's so good to see you," Hope said. "You clean up nicely too."
"Thanks," Samantha replied with a small chuckle. "So what happened in the traffic collision?"
"Someone decided to run a red light when I had the green left turn arrow and I hit him," Hope said, furrowing her brow slightly.
"Why so unsure?"
"That's what the cops told me. Truth be told, I only remember waking up behind the airbag."
"Hopefully the police can get footage from the traffic cameras. Then we'll see who is at fault in this collision," Samantha said.
"Remind me why you keep referring this as a collision and not an accident?"
"Because an accident means there is no one to blame."
"Been watching British movies again?" Hope teased.
"So what if I have?" Samantha blushed.
Hope couldn't reply as she was giggling uncontrollably. Her happiness was soon ended by a sharp moan of pain. Hope's doctor entered the room and Samantha asked him what state is her sister in. He reported that she had a fractured left collar bone, a fractured sternum, and a fractured pelvis, as well as a couple of cracked ribs. The injuries were caused by the seatbelt but if she hadn't used it, Hope would've been a lot more broken up.
"She's going to need to stay in the hospital for two to three days," the doctor said. "Before then, she can't be discharged."
"Thank you, doctor," Samantha said. She sat back down next to her sister.
"What did the doctor say?" Hope asked.
"You can be discharged in two to three days," Samantha said.
"I'm over eighteen. I can sign myself out," Hope retorted.
Samantha was about to respond when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She opened up her text messages and tapped the unread message icon. It was from her commanding officer, Captain Matthew Buchannan. After reading the message, she sighed and put her phone away.
"I've got to go," Samantha said. "Deployment orders."
"Can't you stay a little longer? San Diego is only a couple hours from here," Hope stated.
"If I was heading to San Diego, I would. But the Sampson is at Pearl and I got to be there by this Friday. So I've got a flight to catch," Samantha explained.
"What's your sudden mission?" Hope asked.
"I don't know yet," Samantha admitted.
"Must be an honor to fight alongside the USS Nimitz."
"I don't think there's going to be any fighting where we're going."
Hope held out her right arm indicating her sister to come closer. Samantha leaned forward as she was given a one arm hug.
"Don't worry. If we're going to Japan, I'll get you a souvenir," Samantha promised.
"Just come back in one piece," Hope sniffed as sadness creeped into her voice. "I don't know what the North Koreans or Chinese would do."
"I will."
Even though the words left her mouth, Samantha knew that no matter what happens, coming back alive is the toughest promise any soldier would have to make when they step foot out of the country for an operation.
Samantha kissed her sister on the forehead.
"Tell mama to pick you up when she visits you."
"I will. That better not be the last request you make of me," Hope demanded as Samantha walked out the door. Hope watched her disappear behind a wall as she thought how Samantha could muster up the courage to go and fight for her country even if it means giving her life for it. Hope always felt a need to protect Samantha from harm. She could no longer, however, as her sister stepped out into a world of danger and unknown.
Samantha walked out of her sister's line of sight before she stopped and looked at her feet as she thought about her Hope's words.
You and me both.
Samantha put her cap back on and walked out of the hospital.
It was December 5th of 2015. Four days after Samantha got the text message from Matthew and two days after she arrived at Oahu. At the moment, she was leaning over the bow of a ship in the harbor. Her cap was off and her hair was untied, waving gently in the breeze. She raised her head. Breathing in the salty air, she closed her eyes.
The harbor carried so many memories. Memories that spanned before Hawaii was admitted as a state, and even before the United States showed its growing military might with its Great White Fleet back in 1907.
Looking around the harbor from where she stood, there were numerous mooring quays in sight. Some still bore the names of the ships that were docked at their respective quay on the morning of December 7th, 1941.
I wonder how many sisters were able to call this place home. A place for happiness to meet with other families, a place to rest and heal. Likewise, how many sisters call this place a grave? A place of agony and pain?
Samantha looked out across the water at a floating bridge colored in a blinding white by the sun.
Sighing, she put her cap back on and turned around to face the massive guns of the Mighty Mo; the USS Missouri.
She walked along the deck towards the ship's superstructure, admiring the beauty of the old warrior. Many times, Samantha wished to take her out onto the ocean, to let her stretch her legs and allow her massive armament roar to life. But it doesn't seem that the time would ever come to do so with the many Arleigh Burkes, Littoral combat ships, submarines, and the new class of aircraft carriers that were being built.
Samantha just passed turret number two when a tour guide leading a small group of people approached. Before she turned the corner, the tour stopped when a kid asked what the difference between a battleship and a destroyer was. Before the guide could answer, a US Navy officer, wearing the same uniform as Samantha, butted in to answer.
"Well, a destroyer is smaller and faster. They also have better maneuverability and a host of weapons to use. My personal favorite's the Tomahawk cruise missile. Battleships on the other hand..."
The officer just kept on talking and Samantha couldn't help but grin. She knew that there was short blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes attached to the voice.
"Are you a captain?" the kid asked.
"Oh, how'd you-"
"She's not a captain," Samantha said as she turned the corner. "Because she likes to pull jokes and pranks on her fellow comrades."
The other officer whipped around and stared at Samantha. Samantha couldn't stop grinning.
"Sam, you sly dog!" the officer, Leslie Nguyen, exclaimed and gave her friend a swift hug. Samantha would have returned the hug if her arms weren't pinned to her sides.
"Always ruining my fun, aren't ya?"
"Hey, I wouldn't have to ruin it for you if you stopped telling tall tales," Samantha said.
"Where's the fun in that?" Leslie asked.
The two officers chuckled until the kid raised another question.
"What are you if you aren't a captain?"
"Les is the fire control officer for the USS John Paul Jones. She's in charge of five-inch gun, cruise missiles, you name it," Samantha said.
"Weapons that can deliver their payload with pinpoint accuracy," Leslie said.
"Posh," Samantha said. "Shooting a sixteen inch, 2,000 pound projectile twenty four miles away and hitting within twenty feet of the target; now that's what I call accuracy."
"And you're a Commander, correct?" a teenage boy asked, looking at Samantha's shoulder boards.
"Very good. Commander Ackerman; second-in-command of the USS Sampson."
After engaging in several more minutes of conversation, the officers said their goodbyes, and found themselves near the gangplank to disembark the Missouri.
"Have you gotten the briefing yet?" Samantha asked.
"Yeah. Very strange. Apparently we are going across the Pacific to check and see if the Japanese ran out of their sake supply," Leslie said.
"Leslie!"
"I'm sorry! But seriously. Girls that walk on water and can wipe out entire fleets? And the only way to counter that is to use other girls with similar abilitie? It sounds great as a sci-fi/supernatural setting for a movie or something, but real life? Seriously?"
"Yeah, it does seem farfetched to say the least," Samantha said. "What's next? Strapping jets to our legs and flying around with a minigun in our hands?"
"Now that sounds awesome!" Leslie exclaimed.
As Leslie continued to laugh at the mental picture she had in her head, Samantha looked towards the bow of the Missouri.
"Do you want to visit her?" Leslie said, sounding subdued.
"No. I'll visit her when we get back," Samantha said.
"Look on the bright side. Consider this a free trip to Japan," Leslie suggested as they walked down the gangplank.
The next day, the six ships of Destroyer Squadron 23, USS John Paul Jones, USS Howard, USS Pinckney, USS Sampson, USS Spruance, and the Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigate USS Vandegrift left Pearl Harbor. The USS Nimitz stayed behind with the rest of Carrier Strike Group 11 since it was appraised as unnecessary to send an entire fleet just for a simple conformation mission.
The weather had started out as sunny with a couple clouds and the seas were relatively calm. But as they got further and further from Pearl Harbor, the sky got darker and the waves grew. It wasn't long until rain started to patter down onto the ships.
Every sailor now wore the Navy Working Uniform which consisted of a jacket and pants that are printed in a digital pattern of blue and gray.
Samantha, with her hair tied back in a bun, was on the bridge of the Sampson when a crewman ran out of the bridge and onto the port side bridge wing. Samantha couldn't hear what he was doing above the wind that howled through the doorway, but she could guess as she saw him throw his head over the side.
"Sort of makes you wonder why he joined the navy if he has seasickness," Captain Matthew Buchannan said.
"Sampson's not going to be happy that she has vomit rolling down the side of her hull," Samantha joked.
"She'll be fine. The rain's going to wash it away anyway," Matthew said as he walked to the open door.
The crewman who had just emptied his stomach contents wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked out and ahead of the formation.
"You alright, Morris?" Matthew asked. "You can go rest if you want."
"Thank you, sir," Morris said.
"Okay then," Matthew said as he was about to duck back inside.
"Um, sir? What do you make of that?"
Matthew walked out onto the platform and followed where Morris was pointing. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Just an endless, vast expanse of rolling waves and spraying foam.
"I think you should take that rest now," Matthew said.
"No, sir. I saw something out there. It could be behind a wave."
Matthew continued to look for several more seconds and, right when he was about to leave, a wave receded and there was a big black bump in the water, about five hundred yards away. Matthew looked through a telescope mounted on the bridge wing. He pulled away, blinked several times, and looked back through the eyepiece. It was still there.
"Captain. The other ships are wondering if you see it too," Samantha reported.
"Yes, I do," he responded then asked the radar operator, "Do you have it on radar?"
"Yes, sir. It's a faint signal though."
The captains debated on what to do. One of them suggested on sending a small team on a RHIB over to the unidentified object, but the growing waves would make it risky to say the least. Finally, they settled on sending one of the ships over to check it out. The elected ship was the Howard.
The destroyer crept forward. Every ship was silent except for the few orders that were murmured to one another.
"Nguyen, keep that reticle on the target," Leslie's captain ordered.
"Aye, sir," she responded.
Leslie moved the gun so the barrel faced the direction of the intended target. She told one of her subordinates the target coordinates for the Tomahawks.
A couple breathless minutes later, the Howard closed in to less than a hundred yards to the target.
"What does it look like over there?" Matthew asked.
"It seems to be about fifty feet long and forty feet wide," the Howard captain reported.
"Does it look like a threat?" Matthew asked.
"No, sir. To be frank, sir, it looks like a floating rock."
"Alright. Form back up."
"Is there such things as floating rocks?" one of Sampson's crew asked.
"Yes, they're called pumice," Samantha answered. "But pumice is gray, not black."
The propellers on the Howard have just begun to turn when a wave slammed into its left side. The Howard was pushed sideways and the bow hit the unidentified object, causing the stern to swing out. The destroyer swung around until the entire right side slammed into the object. There was a lot of clamoring as questions and answers flew back and forth across the radio signals. The Howard had sprung several leaks and she was stuck.
As the crews began to work out a solution to their problems, there was a dull roar. Not from the thunder that sounded off in the distance, but a hair raising, monstrous roar.
A red light appeared beneath the Howard and the waves around it started to bubble like water in a kettle. The destroyer shook as the water gurgled and one of her crewmen ran out onto the starboard side bridge wing and looked down at the rock. The sea boiled as the presumed rock began rising out of the ocean. The red light grew brighter as the object rose higher into the air. As it did so, it lost its hold on the Howard. The ship violently tilted back and forth as she broke free, threatening to capsize herself.
Every single crewmember on all six ships stared in disbelief at what just came out of the water.
What was originally thought to be a rock, now floated just above the water. It's mouth was slightly open and it had many rows of teeth. On either side of its 'body', it had a turret which housed three guns, reminiscent to a battleship's. The turrets were mounted on the broad shoulders of its titanic arms and hands.
"Wha...W-W-What the hell is that?" Leslie stammered as she searched for appropriate words.
"It's a fucking monster! That's what!" a sailor yelled.
The monster had stayed at the spot it had came up out of. A growling noise emitted from it as it slowly moved its mouth, saliva dripping from its teeth. For a heartbeat, it fell silent before letting out a gargantuan roar.
The bridge windows shattered, sending shards everywhere. Everyone covered their ears and screamed as they tried to block out the noise in vain. The noise subsided and everyone dragged themselves back to their stations just in time to watch the first move be played.
The monster reared up and brought its fists down right on top of the Howard. The crews watched in shock as the destroyer's bridge was smashed, then amidships, then the helicopter hanger. Its final blow obliterated the midsection.
Muted with complete horror, no one could do anything as the USS Howard sunk beneath the waves in pieces.
"That...that thing just smashed and ripped apart the Howard like a soda can!" Samantha exclaimed.
"Sound 'General Quarters'", Matthew ordered. "Once the weapons are ready, you may fire at will."
The familiar alarm and message sounded through all the remaining ships.
"General Quarters! General Quarters! All hands, man your battle stations! All hands, man your battle stations!"
The alarm continued to sound as the John Paul Jones and Vandegrift started to rapid fire their guns and launched their missiles. The monster bellowed in annoyance as the American munitions made contact with it. The turret on its right shoulder swiveled and locked its sights on John Paul Jones. It fired and had a narrow miss. The destroyer shook when the enemy shells impacted the water.
"Flank it! Keep your spacing and don't run into each other!" Matthew commanded.
The John Paul Jones and the Pinckney turned left and the Sampson, Spruance, and Vandegrift turned right. But before the Vandegrift got far into her maneuver, a volley from the left shoulder obliterated the cruiser.
Onboard the John Paul Jones, Leslie was aiming for the monster's weapons.
If we can't sink this thing, maybe we can destroy its weapons.
She fired at the turret, causing an internal explosion.
"Yes! I got it!" Leslie cheered. "Captain! Tell the other ships to aim for the turrets!"
While her captain informed the others, their radioman was sending out a distress call.
"Mayday, mayday. This is the USS John Paul Jones of DESRON 23. We need back up at our coordinates. I repeat, we need back up at..."
Meanwhile on the Sampson, Matthew ordered his fire control officer to aim for the enemy's weapons. He walked towards the port side bridge wing when the Phalanx CIWSs of all the destroyers began to open up, filling the dark sky with yellow tracers. Before he could see what they were shooting at, an explosion outside knocked him back into the bridge.
"Matt!" Samantha cried out. She ran over to the captain and knelt down beside him. Matthew was riddled with shrapnel and he looked into the blue depths of Samantha's eyes as his last breath escaped him. Samantha reached up and closed his eyes. She stayed hunched over his body until someone shook her back to the present.
"Ma'am! We are being attacked by unidentified aircraft!"
"What?!"
The sky was filled with small black triangular shaped aircraft with a pair glowing circles on the top of them. Some of them were armed with a machine gun, some had bombs, and some carried both.
Back on the John Paul Jones, Leslie was tapping her heel with anxiety as she waited for the weapons to be reloaded. On her screen, she saw movement on top of the monster.
A woman with pale skin, very long black hair and, in a short black dress walked up until she was on the very top of the monster. The fact that she was walking and wore clothes probably was the most normal thing about her. Abnormalities would include the two horns that she had grown out of her forehead and her pair of glowing red eyes.
The woman looked at the American destroyers, which were smoking or on fire, with a look of satisfaction on her face. She looked at the John Paul Jones and the Pinckney which were on her right and were the closest two destroyers.
Tracers continued to spew from the John Paul Jones as the CIWS continued to engage and shoot down the aircraft. It was tracking an aircraft that was close to the woman and it sprayed the tracers and took out the aircraft, but not without hitting the woman first.
The woman grimaced as she fell to her knees and held the wound on her waist as dark red blood spilled over her fingers. Keeping one hand over her wound, she held out the other and yelled as she ordered the monster to fire the only remaining gun on its right turret at the John Paul Jones.
It fired.
The shockwave from the muzzle blast was so powerful that, from just a couple dozen yards away, it blew the mast off the Pinckney and crushed everyone on the bridge. The shell itself punched through the deck of the John Paul Jones and detonated the missiles in their silos. The bow of the ship jumped into the air as the explosion ripped her apart.
Screaming in anger, the woman hit the top of the monster. The monster made a fist and with one swift blow, crushed the Pickney.
The woman shakily stood up and faced the Sampson and the Spruance who decided to turn around and retreat. For the first time, the woman in black spoke, her demonic sounding voice reverberated through the air.
"Sink..." she said slowly. "All of you...will... SINK!"
Suddenly, many...many figures jumped out from the ocean waves. They were all pale, had silver or black hair, had glowing eyes. Some looked like monsters and others looked like women.
They were the fleet from the depths of the ocean; the Abyssals.
The woman on the monster spoke again.
"You never bothered to find me. Now no one will find you," she said menacingly.
The Abyssals opened fire with everything they had at the two last surviving Arleigh Burke-class destroyers.
The wind howled and screamed as the Sampson, tried her best to brave the wrath of the Pacific as well as the gauntlet of fire. Rain hammered down on her and she creaked and groaned as she hit the bottom of a wave, sending water rushing across her decks. Not far from her, the Spruance screamed as a fireball engulfed the entire ship. If a ship could have wept in agony, Sampson would have as it was the last of her squadron that had just been sent to a watery grave. Sampson was slammed by a wave that pushed her involuntarily to starboard and she got a barrage of enemy fire straight into her left side. Her crew exclaimed in surprise as another volley fatally crippled her. Her engines have quit and all she could do was ride the aggressive waves.
Samantha gave the order to abandon ship. Life rafts were inflated and the crew jumped over the side and swam to them. The bow raised into the air as Sampson sank stern first. Once everyone was clear from the bridge, Samantha looked around one last time before evacuating herself.
Out on the deck, Samantha tried to get to the submerged helipad where there was a life raft waiting. The ship shook and she grabbed the railing. The sound of explosions erupted throughout Sampson as she shuddered violently. Samantha gripped the railing tightly, her eyes wide with horror as a fireball erupted right next to her.
Everything steadily grew darker as the crushing depths pulled hungrily on the doomed ships. Sampson groaned with protest as she sank deeper and deeper beneath the waves, her shredded American flag still waving in defiance. Her groans turned into shrieks until a muffled bang split her in two. Not far from her, Samantha was in her own descent. Not much crossed her mind as the burns from the explosion as pretty much put the final nail in her coffin as she sank deeper and deeper into the dark abyss.
I guess if you spend your life on the ocean, you'll spend your death there as well. I can't complain though. I've always loved the ocean. That's why I joined the navy. Wait...that's pretty obvious isn't it?
Of course, war is such a hellish place. People die on both sides.
And it seems that the Japanese were telling the truth. There are such things as Abyssals.
Wait...what is that?
Those streaks of water heading towards the life rafts! Are they seriously going to-
No! No, no, no, no, no, no! The water's running red! Those fucking Abyssals! They killed defenseless people!
And just when I thought I was able to save most of my crew instead of losing! I lose them all again!
'Again'? Why 'again'? I never had to abandon a ship before let alone be fired upon.
Did I dream about this before? I might've.
A dream with a beautiful rising sun being blocked out by thick black smoke. Smoke so thick that it threatens to tear my throat out from my neck. An oily fire scorching my skin...
These sensations. They're way too vivid to be just dreams.
Could they be...memories?
If so, who's memories are they?
She thought no more as she closed her eyes and let the abyss move in to claim her.
"They are my memories," a feminine voice said. "I have been mine and mine alone for over seventy years. And now they will become yours."
The weight of the ocean suddenly disappeared and Samantha broke the surface gasping for air. There was a small empty life raft near her and she pushed through the storm and hauled herself into it. The inside was streaked with blood but she didn't care as her body ached to the point of numbness. She lay, letting her uniform run red and her now untied hair darken in the downpour.
Samantha woke up. She just had a nightmare. A nightmare where she was beaten repeatedly by two women. One wore a white top and a blue bottom, the other wore an orange shirt with a gray and white headband. Not being able to do anything, she was continuously beaten as she heard other screams all around her. The nightmare ended when the woman in orange took a double barrel shotgun and unloaded both barrels at point blank range.
She sighed and noticed how stiff she felt. It felt like she hadn't moved in years but once she looked at her watch, it had only been several hours. She tried to move her legs but they screamed in protest and she heard an unfamiliar 'Clink!'
Looking down, she saw an unfamiliar pair of boots on her person. They were high heeled boots but the heels were rectangular instead of the normal peg. The shoes themselves along with the shin portion were colored a dark grey while the soles and calves were red. The weirdest thing about them was that they were made entirely out of metal.
Her body creaked as she sat up and examined her footwear. She attempted to take them off but there was no way she could. At least they had separate plates so she could still move her feet freely from the rest of her legs.
Looking around, she could still see smoke and debris at locations where other ships of Destroyer Squadron 23 have sunk as well as other life rafts that were empty or lifeless. Not wanting to look at the scene of death and destruction any longer, she hugged her legs and rested her head on her knees with her eyes closed.
Suddenly, she heard the crackle of a radio. She looked around the life raft but there was nothing in it except blood and herself.
I must be hearing things.
The crackling came again. This time a little clearer.
Out of loneliness, Samantha spoke to it.
"Hello?"
Not expecting a response she put her head back onto her knees and kept listening to the static but something unexpected happened. She got a reply.
"Hello?!" came a panicked voice. "Hello, is anyone there?! We are under attack! We need support at-!"
The message was quickly cut off with static and another crackled in her ears. This time it sounded like a panicking civilian.
"I need help! Somebody help me!"
A message from a calmer, yet still distraught voice came through.
"My god. The entire island of Oahu is on fire," one man said.
"It's the Day of Infamy all over again," another said.
Samantha sat rigid.
Oahu? Day of Infamy? Don't tell me Pearl Harbor is under attack! Could it be the Abyssals?
Her fears were confirmed when another radio message flowed mysteriously into her ears.
"What the hell are those things?! Goddamn monsters!" Gunshots rang out and screams were heard.
I need to get over there!
Ignoring her screaming joints and muscles, she paddled the water with her hands. She tired quickly but ignored it as more calls of distress filled her ears. Her raft was at a wave's peak and there was a steep drop ahead of her. Samantha screamed as she was thrown out of her raft and tumbled down wave.
Instinctively, she paddled to the surface but her arms and legs touched air instead. She looked down and found herself on the surface of the ocean. Not floating, but actually on the surface as if it was solid ground.
Samantha timidly set one foot onto the water, then the other, and slowly stood up. She stuck her arms out for balance but she fell onto her back. She attempted another try, putting one foot down, then the other. She put out her arms and kept her knees bent, resembling a newborn fawn in a way. She chuckled nervously. She was actually standing on water.
Samantha couldn't help but break a smile. She couldn't believe it even though it was happening! Taking a step forward, she was able to move a little. After feeling the small amount of resistance, she pushed her feet out to the side alternatively, in a skating motion. She laughed with joy as she admired her new found ability only to be yanked back to reality when screams filled her head. She broke into a fast skate towards Pearl Harbor. While attempting her speed skating, she fell multiple times as the waves proved challenging to conquer.
"Jesus Christ! How much longer do we have to hold out?!" she heard a man yell.
There was no answer from Samantha or anyone else.
"What's the status on reinforcements?! Hello?! Is there anybody there?!"
"Yes!" Samantha cried urgently. "Yes, I'm here! I can hear you!"
There was no indication that she was heard.
"Goddamn it! I can somehow receive these messages but how do I send?!" Samantha shouted aloud in frustration.
"They're never coming for us are they, sir?" a younger voice asked.
"No! Just hang in there! I'm coming!"
Samantha stood ankle deep in water at the mouth of Pearl Harbor in silent shock. It was quiet aside from the pattering rain and crackling fires of sunken ships. Ships, military and civilian alike were left to sit at the bottom of the harbor, the USS Nimitz listed heavily to her left. Everywhere, bodies floated on the water and lay motionless on the decks of ships.
"Oh my god..."
Leaving a red wake behind her, she approached Battleship Row. She looked up at Missouri as she passed. The old warship was listing to starboard with only her moorings keeping her up. Her mast fell into the water, taking the signal flags with it. Her decks could be seen covered in bodies of civilians; men, women, and children.
Samantha gagged at the sight. She attempted to get rid of the bile rising up in her throat but there was nothing in her stomach.
She had no business with the fast battleship however. It was with the ship 500 yards in front of her. She stopped at the floating bridge which served as a memorial as well as the headstone for the sunken vessel and her 1,177 men.
"Hi, guys," Samantha said to the ship. "I'm back."
A tear rolled down her cheek as she continued.
"I'm sorry. I am so very sorry that I let you all down. I wasn't able to save all of you. It still pains me to this day knowing that I couldn't do anything. I feel deep regret that I can't bring you back with me to this new life, but I hope I can make it up to you by being the best ship I can be."
Samantha saluted the mass tomb and she closed her eyes as the water around her and the memorial began to glow blue. She felt weightless as the light consumed her. Her body jerked under the force impact as equipment flew onto her piece by piece.
This is who I am. A warship. A super-dreadnaught born in 1915. I was meant to succeed my older sisters, the Nevada-class, as well as challenge the dreadnaughts built by the British and the Japanese. Designed with the 'All-or-Nothing' ideal and armed with twelve 14"/45 caliber navy rifles housed in four turrets, I can do just that.
The light faded and Samantha stood tall and confident with her brand new equipment. She had vambraces on her forearms. The portions on her inner arms were red and the outer were a dark gray, just like her boots. Over her uniform, she had a dark gray underbust corset that had a thick black line running down on both sides. Attached to the harness on her back, what resembled two halves of a ship's hull curved around to her sides. On the wooden 'deck' of each side had a triple gun turret. Two more turrets were stored pointing downwards on either side of her backpack, which resembled the Arizona's bridge along with one of her smokestacks. On top of that, she had a tripod mast with a conning tower. To complete her outfit, she had a US Navy cutlass at her hip.
"Heh. That 'All-or-Nothing' didn't seem to work out in the end," Samantha chuckled.
She wiped away her tears.
"Who am I? I am the second of the Pennsylvania-class battleships, hull number BB-39. I am USS Arizona."
A beam of sunlight broke through the clouds and shone on Arizona. She unsheathed her cutlass and held it in the air.
"I will never give up. I will never surrender. I will fight to the very end and I won't go down until every last round of ammunition has been fired."
A/N: I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Please leave a comment whether they'd be compliments or criticisms (constructive criticisms are preferred). Feel free to send me a PM if you have any questions. Anyways ladies and gents, take care and I hope to catch you in the next chapter.
*A woman steps into frame*
Hi! I'm Arizona. Just a couple things before we call it a day.
The 'All-or-Nothing' ideal was to give battleships more armor in all the important places, such as the magazine, and put less armor elsewhere. It was interpreted by giving me the metal corset.
Also, Japanese ship girls along with others from England, France, Germany and others will also make their appearances and have their roles in this story.
That is all! Take care folks.