A/N: Okay guys, this is my first submitted work. I love writing fiction, and I've been wanting to submit something for the longest time. So naturally, after recently graduating from high school and inheriting loads of free time before I start a summer job, I decided to sit my ass down and finally commit myself to writing. The universe I've been wanting to write into wasn't hard to decide, as I'd been bouncing the thought around ever since watching KanColle. So without further ado, I give you my very first work; The Gold and Silver Ship.
Please keep in mind that while I like to write, I am fairly inexperienced. I would appreciate if you pointed out errors or flaws in my writing so I can address them in future updates.
I do not own anything besides the story and the original characters.
Three thousand years. For three thousand years, mankind has fought among themselves on the world's seas and oceans. In that time, humanity went from simple galleys moved by sail and oar, to massive battleships powered by immense machines no-one three thousand years ago could have dreamed of. From the times of Mesopotamia and Assyria, to the Greeks and Persians, the Romans and Carthaginians, and most recently the navies of the world fought in the Great War. The war to end all wars, it was called. And for a short time, it seemed that the name rang true. No longer would humanity be embattled for dominance.
How wrong they were.
July 28th, 1939
Off the coast of the Philippine Islands
FV Swan
'Fuck me, it's too early for this bullshit.' Kidlat thought as he made his way to the engine room. For the second night in a row, one of the two engines powering the boat had sputtered and died, leaving the forty-five meter vessel severely under-speed. Standard procedure called for the remaining engine to be cut while the ship's engineer, who, unfortunately, was Kidlat in this case, inspected the damage and made a decision on what to do.
Stopping at the Mess on the way there, Kidlat grabbed a lukewarm cup of coffee and gave it a sip before continuing on his path.
'Cook hasn't even refreshed the pot since last night. I thought we agreed to make a new one every four hours?' He complained mentally while checking his watch. 'Yep, been seven hours since dinner. Lazy bastards, this crew, all of them. But I suppose that's all part o-'
His thoughts were jarred as the ship violently jumped, throwing him against the bulkhead. He felt his shoulder pop out of place before being reset, resulting in a terrible pain that left Kidlat screaming in pain before biting his lip.
'All hands, we've been hit by something!'
"I could've fucking told you that!" Kidlat roared at the ceiling as he slowly raised himself from the hard floor.
'We don't know what it was, but be prepared to abandon ship! I re-'
The ship's captain didn't finish his sentence before an explosion ripped through the bridge, killing him instantly.
Kidlat didn't know what the hell was going on, but he knew there was very little time to ensure his survival. If he was quick, he could climb the stairs leading to the deck on the port side of the ship near the lifejacket storage and launch himself over the side. Knowing that, he enacted his plan only to take three steps before the wall ahead of him was punctured and started spraying warm seawater into the compartment.
Kidlat stopped in his tracks when he saw what breached the wall.
A ghostly white fist and arm up to the elbow was stuck through the wall.
He couldn't help but watch with astonishment and fear as a second fist appeared and started widening the hole, leaking more and more water into the compartment.
He was scared shit-less, but he knew he only had a few seconds before that thing made it into the room and did who knows what to Kidlat. He turned on his heel and ran back down the short hallway to the starboard side of the ship, finding the other set of stairs leading to the deck. Throwing himself up the stairs and occasionally slipping, Kidlat made it topside and could only briefly take in what he saw before he threw himself overboard.
The bridge was gone. Just... fucking gone.
In it's place was a gout of flame rising at least 30 feet into the air, lighting up the night sky. Near the bow of the ship, it was obvious that something had nearly sheared the ship in two, creating a huge gash that stretched from the beams on both port and starboard and cutting along the top, reached two decks down on the three deck ship.
'I have to get out of here!' He repeated to himself over and over as he frantically swam from the now rapidly sinking ship. He swam towards the nearest island, Luzon, but it was easily 40 km away and, with his shoulder, he doubted he could make a quarter of that. But he refused to die. He roared against it. If he could have, he would've punched the thought of dying now after surviving as long as he had.
The Swan was no longer visible. It was pulled under not more than two minutes after Kidlat jumped off.
He had calmed down to the point where he could more easily process what had just happened. Something had sunk the ship, that much was obvious. But why? And perhaps more importantly, who?
Kidlat was still pondering these questions when he felt himself being lifted from the water by a pair of hands, and forcefully turned around as he was two feet above the water.
There, standing in front of him, was an incredibly pale woman-no, girl. She didn't look much more than sixteen or seventeen. And yet, with her age and fairly diminutive size, she was able to lift him two feet off the water. Between fits of panic, Kidlat had a thought.
'Is she standing?! On water?!'
The girl's short dark hair gently moved and framed her face in a breeze, almost concealing the malicious stare in her glowing blue eyes that appeared almost flame-like. Her hands readjusted themselves so one was caressing his face while the other was firmly around his throat.
"Shhhhh. Don't worry. You won't be very lonely for long." The girl seethed. Kidlat felt the hand on his throat tighten, cutting off his air before he felt a small twitch in that same hand.
His world went dark.
June 7th, 1942
Pearl Harbor
Stepping out of the car, I was greeted by a wall of humidity and a bright sun.
"Jesus, I'm gonna fry my eyes! Louie, hand me my glasses!" I yelled into the car.
"Calm down Moe, geez. You're acting like a goddamn vampire. Here," he says as he hands me a pair of aviators from inside the cab.
"Thanks. Now get your ass out of the nice cool car and be miserable with me."
"Fine, fine, who made you the fuckin' boss?" Louie says as he reluctantly gets out from the driver side door.
"I don't know, could it be the fact that I'm the oldest and you're the youngest?" I say as I land a teasing punch into his shoulder.
"More like you're the dumbest and I'm the best looking!" Louie says, reciprocating the punch I gave him.
It goes on like this for some time before we're interrupted by a seaman saying that he is supposed to be our escort.
"Nah don't worry about it friend," I say from the headlock my brother has managed to get me in, "Just point us in the direction of our bunks and the nearest place we can find some ladies and we'll be on our way"
"Sir!" The sailor yells, "I'm under direct orders from Admiral Nimitz to show you to your bunks, and bring you to him immediately!"
The mention of the name gets us to stop.
"Shit," Louie mutters.
"Yep, seems that way." I sigh as Louie releases me from the headlock, and I look towards the sailor, "What's your name friend?"
"Petty Officer 2nd Class Brent Yuhler, sir!" He replies with a salute.
"Nice to meet you Brent," I say extending my hand "USS Montana at your service. This here is my baby brother." I say pointing my thumb to Louie.
Louie nods and says "USS Louisiana. Nice to meet you."
Brent takes my hand with more than just a little trepidation. "I had heard that they'd be sending out some frogmen, but damn, I didn't expect to meet the new Montana classes!"
"Frogmen?" I ask.
"Oh, sorry sir. That's our nickname for the people produced by the Ark initiative. Hope you don't mind." Brent says a little nervously.
"No, no, no, no, no, I like it! Besides, it's at least acknowledging the fact that we're people and not just... y'know." I shrug.
"Between you and me, sir, I've already met a few of you guys and I'd invite any single one of you to a barbecue. You're as human as it gets, sir." Brent says with a smile.
"Appreciate that, friend." I say as I clap him on the shoulder, "But cut it out with the honorifics. I don't like having people older than me call me 'sir"
"Could've fooled me." Louie says aloud.
I give him a death glare that would make many a man shiver in his boots, but my brother just crosses his arms and stares right back at me, a smirk plastered on his dumb face.
"Whatever. Let's get moving, Brent."
Brent led the way to a building which, he said, would be our dorm for the duration of our stay at Pearl Harbor. It was a two story dorm with no furnishings, unless you count empty military bunks and footlockers furniture. Seriously, this was the type of place where you could put bars on the windows and it would warm it up immensely. After getting familiar with the building, which we were the only occupants of, Louie and I retrieved our bags from Brent's car and placed them on the bunks we had chosen. Afterwards, we made one more trip to retrieve the trunks containing our gear.
Now, the luggage we were both carrying may seem like over-sized trunks, but they were more akin to a very small closet. To use, simply prop one side up, open the door, walk in and press a few buttons. From there, the closet itself would outfit us with our rigs automatically. An awkward experience for sure, the first few times. Like being dressed by your mother. Anyways, the closet/trunk would take forty to fifty seconds to fix you up in anything you'd need to kill Abyssals. Maybe a bit more if you were a bigger guy.
Unfortunately for Louie and I, we were both bigger guys.
As ships of the same class (I hesitate to call us sister-ships because... well you know), we both have a similar athletic build with broad shoulders, and look to be young adults. But even though we are from the same class, we do indeed have different appearances, thank God. Louie has darkly tanned skin, similar to farmers or outdoor-type folk, while I'm pale. And when I say pale, I mean ghostly. Whereas he has a mop of dark brown hair on his crown, my hair is a lighter brown that has a tendency to knot when it gets long, so I like to keep it short. Anyways, because of our difference in appearance Louie drew even more of the short end of the stick. While our wider build made entering the trunk uncomfortable, Louie also has the misfortune of being taller than I am, his six-three to my six-one. Therefore, I'd usually be good to go in a minute but Louie was usually done in a minute-fifteen.
Serves you right for making fun of your older brother, ya jerk.
We didn't bother unpacking since Brent had said that Nimitz was waiting for us, and we sure as hell weren't going to keep the old man waiting. We loaded back up into the car with Brent at the wheel, me at shotgun and Louie sitting in the seat behind Brent.
"Hey, Moe..." Louie asked.
"Yep?" I reply.
"When's the last time we saw the old man?" I knew that Louie already knew when it was, but I decided to humor him.
"It was the last day of training. The commissioning ceremony before we all got split up." An odd thing, for sure, commissioning people the same way one would commission a ship. Thankfully without the bottle of champagne being smashed against us.
"Yeah... yeah you're right." I could tell that Louie was thinking about it, but I decided to let it lie. No point in bringing it up when all it would do is dredge unpleasant memories for the both of us.
"Hey Brent," I started, "What do you guys do around here for fun? All I've seen so far are fuckin' warehouses, open fields, runways and cranes. Ain't there anything else?"
"Montana, you've been here an entire, what, three hours? I hardly think you're one to give a tour of the place." He quickly replied. "Besides, if I'm honest I don't know if you'll even be here long enough to experience it."
"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Oooh I was curious now.
"Look, I'll let the ol-, I mean Admiral Nimitz explain it to you. I don't know anything. Just scuttlebutt." Brent was quick to shrug this off. I made note of that.
"Nah, see, that's not how this works Brent. We ain't been anything but compliant and courteous with you. You gotta let us in on it, man." I bargained.
"Alright, alright. Listen good, 'cause I'm only gonna say this once." He briefly took his eyes off the road to look into each of our eyes. We respond by leaning in closer.
"Word is, the Japs are sending delegates to all over the world to start a task force composed of people like you guys-" He points to us. "To fight the Abyssals." He shrugs his shoulders. "That's it. All I've heard."
"Fuuuuck." Louie let's out in a long, low breath from the back seat as he reclines back.
"That's what they've been saying, eh?" I ask. Brent nods. "Well... I guess it's for the best that we're seeing the old man then."
The rest of the ride to Nimitz' office is in silence.
We'd been in Nimitz' secretary's room for fifteen minutes, waiting for his call to come in. Louie and I sat next to each other on a wood bench, Brent stood a few feet away next to the secretary, having a friendly conversation while she occasionally tapped on a typewriter.
"Moe..." Louie said, staring at the floor.
"Louie? What's wrong?" I was worried. He always got like this when he was emotional.
He turned sharply to look at me. "You know goddamn well what's wrong. I can't go in there Moe, I'll kill him."
Louie is my brother, I know when he is and isn't kidding.
He wasn't kidding.
"Look, I hate him too, alright? You know that. You know that I'll never forgive him for what he did to Newt and Ohio." I grabbed his head and pulled him close.
"But this is big Louie, real big. Truth be told, I don't know why something like this hasn't been tried before but it's happening now. And we need to be a part of it. For them. We might not have been able to save them, but we can sure as hell end this war for them. Alright?" There wasn't a response, so I look into his eyes.
"Alright?" A war was going on in his eyes. Grief and sadness were visible, but you only had to look one layer deeper to see the anger and resentment Louisiana had for this man.
He nodded.
"Let's just get our orders and fuck off. I don't want to be here any longer than I have to." He finally said.
"That's for sure." I say as I release him.
At that same moment, a buzz comes over the secretary's intercom. She stands up and waves Louisiana and I over.
"Gentlemen, the Admiral is ready to see you now." She opens the door and stands beside it.
I go through first, nodding my thanks to her, with Louie close behind.
We stand abreast and give a crisp salute.
Standing before us is Chester Nimitz. Fleet Admiral of the Navy and all around military legend.
And the creator of the Ark Project.
He's a bit more haggard than I remember him, his hair is a bit grayer and he seems to have lost a bit of weight.
But the scheming and perceptive look in his eyes is as sharp as ever.
"Boys." He gives a short salute and motions for us to take a seat in front of his desk.
Now, naturally, I want to take the seat, since it looks a damn sight more comfortable than that bench we sat on in the waiting room.
But as I reach for it Louie says, "Thank you sir, but I'd rather stand."
Well. Looks like I'm standing.
"Fair enough." He said as he took a seat in his office chair.
"Look, boys, I'll cut right to the chase so we can end this uncomfortable experience." Nimitz says as he leans forward in his chair, placing both hands on his desk.
Interesting. I've never seen the Admiral be this forward. A professional respect, if I had to take a guess.
"Two days ago, I received an envoy from Imperial Japan. They propose a task force composed of American, Japanese, British, German and Italian Arks, or, what they call KanMusu. As you can tell, I agreed to the plan. You two, along with a few you'll meet soon enough, will be the US' contribution to the Task Force."
"Sir, did they say anything about the Soviets?" I inquire, knowing the answer.
"Now, Montana, you know as well as I do that they just don't have the naval power to create an Ark. Plus, I doubt they'd have any interest in cooperating." I nodded, not surprised at all that he called me out on my bluff.
"Any questions? Doubts, perhaps?" Nimitz' wasn't kidding about getting this done quick.
"Sir, I'm uneasy about working with these other ships. Why are they just now proposing this task force?" Way to go Louie! Putting the mission before your feelings!
"In fact, I'm surprised you just accepted it without giving it a second thought." Or not.
Nimitz sighed and said, "Look, Louie. I'm an old man. This war is taking it out of me. If this task force brings us even an inch closer to ending it, I'm all for it. But don't you dare think for one second that I'm just throwing my assets into the fray simply at the request of some gussied up Jap. Got it?" He stared hard at Louisiana, pointing at him.
Louie merely stared straight ahead and didn't respond.
"Good. Anything else?"
There was only one thing I could think of.
"Sir, how are the other nations' Arks' abilities in comparison to our own? Obviously I know our own forces' capabilities and am comfortable fighting with them, but I must echo Louisiana's apprehension in fighting with these guys when I don't even know if they could keep up with us."
"Still humble as ever, aren't you Moe?"
I didn't respond.
"The Japanese Navy is all in. They're dedicating all they're assets to the task force. I have a few personnel files on the Arks from a few different navies already confirmed to be a part of the task force. I'll have Brent give them to you before your flight to Okinawa." That caught me off guard.
"Sir! Okinawa seems pretty damn far from American waters!" I couldn't help it. I know my purpose as an Ark is to follow orders and kill Abyssals, but I had seen far too many friends killed at their hands. Friends that were human and Ark alike. I was more than a little reluctant to, in my eyes, abandon the ones I still had.
The old man looked hard at me.
"Do you even understand what you're going to be a part of, kid?" He stood up and walked towards me.
Shit. Here we go.
"This movement could be the first and biggest step towards ending the war for good. But you're too goddamn caught up in your hero complex to even realize that." He sighed and put his hand on my shoulder.
"You two aren't our only hope in defending the homeland, we've got plenty of ships to do that. But I need you boys to do this." He takes his hand off my shoulder.
"Are we clear?"
Neither of us respond.
"Good. Montana, I'm appointing you as the official American representative to the task force. You're all leaving tomorrow at 1300. Dismissed."
Louisiana and I both salute before turning on our heels and walking back out the door. Brent is still there talking to the secretary, named Suzanne apparently.
"Hey, what's up? How'd it go?" He quickly ended his conversation and hopped to us.
"Brent, just... take us to the dorm." Louie says exasperatedly. I'm inclined to agree with him so I nod my concurrence.
"Y-yeah, okay. Let's head out." Louie and I are already out the door while Brent is giving farewells to Suzanne.
Another silent ride, this time to the dorm.
It's been a few hours since the meeting with Nimitz, but Louie and I still haven't talked about it. He's been working out while I've been sitting on my bunk listening to the radio and thinking. Brent came in not too long ago with the files Nimitz promised, but I have yet to look through them.
The Admiral was right. Louisiana and I don't have to worry about protecting the homeland when we have so many more Arks and ships that can do the job just as well as us. Plus, it's not like we were the only ones protecting it in the first place.
Alright, my mind was made up.
We'll do it.
But that didn't mean I was any less keen on leaving Stateside. I was just more aware of the implications if I didn't.
Namely my placement at the ass end of nowhere with no fighting or my decommissioning and court martial for insubordination.
I sighed and sat up in the bunk before turning off the radio on the floor beside my bed. Louie looked at me inquisitively.
"You know we're doing it, right?" I asked him.
He had been shadowboxing and relaxed his stance. He shrugged and said, "Yeah, I figured as much." He put his hands on his hips before saying, "Y'know, I hate the old man for what he did to our siblings, and I might've given him shit for it at the meeting... but this is the right thing to do. You know that." He walked over and turned the radio back on.
And with that he was right back to sparring his imaginary partner.
Hearing it come from Louie made it a bit easier.
Well, if we're decided I guess I better get to work.
'I can start by getting to know my future coworkers' I thought as I picked up the stack of folders.
June 8th, 1942
Pearl Harbor
The next morning was cold, and the dorm was drafty.
Picking myself up from the bed I put on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt and did my morning run of fifteen miles, before coming back and working on some strength stuff.
Today is the day, huh?
As the team leader, I slotted everybody to be at the warehouse at 1000 so we could get some time to know everyone. Brent and I got a quick bite at an off-base restaurant while Louie ate at the Mess. Apparently, Brent would be coming with us, to our surprise as well as his.
"Admiral chose me to be your secretary, the bastard." I chose to take the disappointment at his position, rather than being caused by having to work with me.
After a heavy breakfast, Brent drove to the Mess and we picked up Louie, who looked a bit worse for wear. Obviously, being bombarded by questions from young and eager sailors isn't exactly a great way to start the day if you're more the strong silent type. Sadly a few seamen had to find that out first-hand as Louisiana forcibly removed them from his presence.
A terrible thing, yes, but funny as hell to see nonetheless.
We arrived at the warehouse at 1010. Good, late enough that all the Arks should be here by now, but not late enough to be considered too unbecoming of a superior officer.
All in all, we were taking three battleships, two carriers, four cruisers and five destroyers.
The battleships were me and Louisiana, along with USS California. California was a woman, and what a woman she was. She was five-eleven, with sun-kissed skin, a small amount of freckles dotting her upper cheeks, and almost white blonde hair that went down to her waist.
Not to mention a *ahem* bust size that reflected her sixteen inch guns.
For the carriers we were bringing USS Lexington and USS Bataan, a "normal" and light carrier respectfully. Lexington, or Lex, was a guy of about six foot with an average build and closely cropped black hair. Bataan was a bit shorter and slimmer, and always has a scowl on his face which was usually covered by his long blonde hair. Much debate has been had to determine the origin of the scowl, and we decided it was because Lex is always treating him like a little brother.
The carriers' abilities were... odd, obviously. But then again, we were a bunch of, basically, kids that embodied the spirits of ships, so who am I to judge? Anyways, the carriers each hefted around a bag with different projectiles in them. Long story short, the projectile would turn into a squadron of a certain type of plane when thrown or shot, depending on the projectile. Don't ask me who flies them, I don't know. The whole concept freaked me out.
For cruisers, we had USS Quincy, USS Baltimore, USS Montpelier and USS Phoenix. Baltimore and Phoenix were girls while Quincy and Montpelier were boys.
An interesting bunch, the four of them resembled teenagers, and their mindset wasn't much different than one either. But they at least knew how and when to follow orders. As becoming of their seeming age, they were fairly mischievous. I'll have to keep an eye out for them. I don't intend on one of our key players being ejected from the game because they thought they were being funny.
Finally, we have the destroyers. Jesus Christ were my hands going to be full.
We had USS Cotten, USS Bell, USS Izard, USS Young and USS Rooks.
They were all girls. And they were kids.
Fuuuuuuck.
Okay, they weren't necessarily kids, but they looked and acted liked elementary kids or middle-schoolers, and they looked the part too. However I feel like I'm being too hard on them. They were all great girls for sure. But holy hell, they will would not stop talking about how cute Louie and I are, or how cool the cruisers were, or how they want to grow up to look like California.
Like I said, good girls, bad age.
Some task force this is turning out to be.
I only pray that the other navies don't have the same personalities that we do, because then my life will become even more of a living hell than it already is.
I spend almost three hours getting to know the other Arks, while Brent runs an equipment check. He is smart, and also seems like the type of guy who gets shit done. I mentally thanked Nimitz for choosing him to be my assistant, even if Brent thought the position was less than prestigious.
A bit behind schedule, our plane rolled up to the warehouse and started loading up. I didn't mind the tardiness as it gave me a bit more time to admire California.
She caught me looking more than once, but she must be used to it since she teasingly played along.
All of us boarded the civilian model C-47, with a couple of the destroyers obviously more than a little excited to be flying for the first time. We were wheels up at 1320, and something in my gut told me it would be a long flight.
Just then Rooks and Izard got sick and came crashing through the middle path to reach the lavatory. Not a crazy thing to happen since it was their first time flying, but the real trouble came when the cruisers started messing with the destroyers and calling them names.
I looked to my left to ask Louie for assistance, only to find him already sleeping like a log. Finding him already unconscious, I instead looked across the path at California to find her intently reading some book. She looked up in time to see my pleading eyes, only to solemnly shake her head with a slight smirk.
'How do you manage to still be so beautiful even when plunging a dagger in my gut?' I found myself imagining.
I sighed and unbuckled my seatbelt.
'Yep,' I thought to myself as I started heading towards the trouble area of the cabin, 'A long flight indeed.'
Footnote: Thanks for reading guys! Like I said, this is my very first story so I would really appreciate feedback regarding style, diction, etc. so that I may improve in future updates.