A/N- Okay, were do I begin with this? I first got this weird idea back when I started reading this book series called Destroyermen about a United States destroyer at the beginning of WW2 that gets swept up in a storm and finds itself in an alternate reality. It hit me, while I was reading this, that this could be adopted for ATLA were this ship gets transported to the avatar world instead. I've heard a lot of people compare the 100 war with the conflict between imperialist Japan and China during this historic time period and I felt a crossover would be a cool idea. I couldn't find a category for Destroyermen so i figured just place this story in the avatar category. I might do a few chapters to see what people think of this before going full on.
7/4/16 update: this is an update to all chapters and contains grammar corrections and a few text changes.
Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA or the Destroyermen series. ATLA belongs to Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. The Destroyermen series belongs to Taylor Anderson.
Chapter 1
March 1, 1942
Java sea
Lieutenant commander Matthew Patrick Reddy stood on the bridge of the USS Walker as the form of the mighty Japanese capital ship appeared in front of them, escorted by a Japanese destroyer.
They had been running for hours now. Ever since they departed from Java the Japanese fleet had been right behind them. Determined to finish what they started during the battle of the Java sea just thirty-six hours ago, which had resulted in the destruction of almost the entire Asiatic fleet, the enemy relentlessly pursued them. ABDACOM's (American-British-Dutch-Australian command) original force consisted of two heavy cruisers, seven light cruisers, twenty-three destroyers, and about thirty submarines and support vessels. All that was left afterward was three battered, Great War-vintage U.S. "four-stacker" destroyers, one British destroyer, and the cruiser HMS Exeter.
Now the Exeter was gone. Sunk by the enemy salvoes as the destroyers fled. One by one the rest of the fleet was gunned down: first HMS Encounter, then USS Pope, until only the Walker and her sister ship the USS Mahan remained.
They were currently making for a squall in the distance. It was larger than any they'd seen all day. It's green dark clouds blotted out the horizon, leaving a menacing impression.
"Signal Mahan. We'll keep this interval in case we have to maneuver. Helm, ahead left flank!" Ordered Matt.
But then, off to the left of them was another squall that was rapidly dissipating. After hours of running with no end in sight, a new threat had emerged from a smaller squall directly in their path.
"Holy Mary," Chief Fitzhugh Grey, the senior enlisted man onboard, said.
"That, gentlemen, is the Amagi" Matt said to the other bridge officers. His voice was harsh but matter-of-fact.
"She's a battlecruiser. Not quite a battleship, but much heavier than a cruiser. I know it's her"-he smiled ironically.
"Because she's the only one they have left. Built in the twenties, so she's just as old as our four stack destroyers."-he snorted.
"But they've spent money on her since then. I remember her because I was always impressed how the Japs could make so much metal move so quickly. I guess it's fitting, after everything else she should show up here. They really don't want us to get away."
Matt turned to Petty officer Riggs. "Signal Mahan to prepare for a torpedo attack." He said.
He crossed his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes glued to the juggernaut ahead. Slowly he turned to Chief Gray.
"We can't go around her and we can't turn back. That leaves us one choice."
The older man nodded grimly. "We'll have to go right through that son of a bitch."
...
Aang had never seen a storm quite like it. The clouds had a green aura that gave an unnatural impression. Strange flashes of light emanated from the mass not unlike lightning but still not quite lightning. Just outside the storm were three iron vessels. The two smallest ships seemed to be going up against a massive behemoth that Aang could barely call a ship.
The monster ship was several times larger than any fire nation battleship the young Avatar had ever seen. The sides of it were covered with cannon-like weapons bigger than most boats. The height of its superstructure dwarfed most hills and buildings. The whole thing towered over the smaller ships as if they were nothing. Flashes of fire between the two ships indicated a desperate fight.
For several intense seconds it looked like the large ship would crush them with its hail storm of fire. But suddenly there was a large explosion on the deck of the larger ship. Before it could recover, all three vessels were swallowed up by the storm.
Aang's eyes shot open to reveal that he was lying on his thick bedroll, with Katara and Sokka camped out on either side of him. Once he realized that it was still dark out, he tried to fall asleep once more. But, unable to get the image of the looming mass of metal and fire out of his head, the boy let out an audible sigh.
This woke Katara, who was forever the lightest sleeper of the trio.
"Is everything alright Aang?" She sat up and whispered in a concerned tone.
"Just a weird nightmare," he told her, scratching his bald head.
"How many of those are you gonna have?" Sokka complained from his own place on the grass. Apparently Aang's attempt to avoid disturbance had failed. Well, at least Appa, the enormous sky bison, seemed rested.
"What was it about?" Katara said impatiently, though she couldn't help glaring at her brother.
"You know, I dreamed that Gran-Gran slapped me with a fish!" Sokka interrupted groggily. He didn't like being woken up, but now that he was he wanted to use this time for something. "And then she turned into a fish. And then I ate her," he continued strangely. "Do you think that could come true? Not the Gran-Gran part; just the fish part." After a confused pause, Aang turned over in his roll, ignoring Sokka's antics.
"It wasn't anything that made sense anyway; I'll tell you in the morning."
Satisfied with their leader's reassurance, the siblings returned to their slumber. That is, except for Aang, who pondered and stressed over his strange vision. His Avatar side had a knack for being able to tell what was or going to or what was happening in the forms of dreams. And for once, he hoped that Sokka was right and they'd get a seafood slap from someone and not a hulking mass of danger.
...
Amagi's first salvo fell short, but it threw up a wall of water that drenched half the ship. Even lieutenant Rogers up in the crow's nest was probably drenched but no one had heard from him. Walker pierced the spray raised by Amagi's main guns. The splashes from the cruisers chasing them were uninterrupted and Matt Reddy was reminded of the many times he shot turtles at the stock tank behind his grandmother's house.
"So this is how they felt." Matt said to himself as a bang from behind alerted him to an attacking dive bomber. It's payload hid just to port, drenching the destroyer with yet another wave. The .50-calibers lashed out at the plane and something fell off it as it spun out of control.
More salvos fell. This time around the Mahan, which was less than five hundred yards to port. The shells fell like rain yet somehow she remained afloat. Her aft deckhouse was damaged though, so was her number four funnel and a search light. Another salvo bloomed ahead.
"Damn we're close!" Matt thought as he looked ahead with his binoculars.
"There they are! Right there!" He shouted into the speaking tube.
"Surface target! Bow! Estimate range five five double oh!"
The salvo buzzer sounded and Walkers guns fired. Next to Matt, Grey held on tightly as the ship made a sharp turn to starboard. Then another salvo slashed out from Amagi just as six torpedoes cuffed from their tubes and laced in the direction of the battle cruiser. Just beyond Amagi the squall beckoned, dark and alive with its torrential green rain.
At that moment a ten-inch shell on a flat trajectory punched through the forward fire room. A fiery cloud of hot, black soot and steam swept Matt to the deck.
...
The next morning, the three friends awakened to a new sunrise that came up over the mountains. The campsite were the kids resided was on the small beach that separated a large mountain range behind them from the great north sea. As the group got up and went about packing up Katara turned to Aang.
"So, would you like to tell me about that dream you had last night?" She said.
Aang hesitated for a minute. "I'm not sure what it was... There was this storm. A storm that wasn't a storm."
"What do you mean?"
"It was almost like it had an aura. A very powerful aura. Not like a normal storm. And just outside it were these three ships. But they were all made of metal."
"Fire navy ships?" Katara asked.
"No. Two of them were sailing together and weren't very big. Smaller than a fire nation ship. They were longer though. The third one..." Aang stopped for a moment.
"What? What is it?"
"I can't even describe it. It was huge. Bigger than any fire nation ship... Than any ship in the whole world. And it was a warship too. It was trying to destroy the other ones."
"What happened?" Katara said, now fully invested in Aangs story.
"That's the weirdest part. Just before the big ship could destroy the other two there was an explosion onboard. I don't know if it was hit by the small ships or something else. Whatever it was, it was hit. Before it could recover the storm came upon all three of them."
Katara said face expressed a look of curiousness. "That's strange." She thought to herself for a minute. Then an idea struck her.
"The markings! Did they have any markings or flags?" She asked.
"I... I think so. The small ones had an identical flag and the big one had its own flag."
"Could you draw them in the sand?"
"Sure."
Aang quickly used his airbending to propel himself towards the foliage beyond the beach. He grabbed a fallen stick and ran back to the beach.
"This is the flag the first two ships had." Aang said.
Katara watched as he began to outlined a shape in the sand. At first it look a series of strips going across the shape of the flag. Then Aang started drawing another box in the left hand corner. He created several stars in the box with his stick and finish up by joining the main box all-together. Katara regarded it with wonder. She had never seen a flag quit like it. It wasn't from any of the four nations as far as she knew. What could it mean?
Aang got started on the other image. Unlike the first flag, this one had lines going outward from a circle in the center near the bottom. When it was completed Katara couldn't help but be reminded of the light beams from a sunrise.
For the longest time, Aang and Katara stared at the two alien symbols until they were interrupted by Sokka.
"Everything's packed up. No help from you guys. Appa is ready to go." He said before looking at the drawings in the sand.
"What are those?"
"They're the flags from the ships I saw in my dream." Aang said. Sokka looked at the drawings with a curious expression similar to his sister and friend.
"Any idea what they mean?"
"We've never seen them before." Katara answered. There was silence for several seconds until Sokka finally spoke.
"Well. No use just siting around here. Might as well get going." He said, turning towards the giant flying bison. Reluctantly, Aang and Katara fallowed.
"Yip yip!" Sokka said and the massive animal took to the sky with all three of them riding on its back in a large saddle. As they gained altitude Aang looked back at the beach. Sokka noticed this out of the corner of his eye.
"Look Aang. If it means anything to you, I'm sure you dream was just your imagination. We've all had a stressful month, what with the fire nation chasing us and all. We're bound to see weird stuff in our dreams. Heck! I'm surprise Katara hasn't seen anything in her dreams yet."
Katara raised her eyebrow at her brother for a moment before turning to Aang with concern. He was still looking back at the drawings in the sand.
He watched as the tide slowly but surly got higher and higher until it washed them away. As the waves did their work, Aang could hear a voice in the back of his head telling him he would see those flags again soon.
...
Matt looked around. He couldn't hear the thud of water on the deck from the squall. In fact he couldn't hear anything. One look told him why. Large greenish raindrops hovered in mid air all around the ship like frozen crystals. Matt looked around at the surprised, confused, and even horrified expressions of the other crew members. He fallowed the frozen raindrops down until he peeked over the side of the ship. What he saw made his blood run cold.
The ocean was gone. From the grey upper section of the hull to the barnacle infested reddish bottom the entire ship was exposed to air. Below them was nothing but an empty grayish green void and billions of suspended raindrops. It couldn't be. What he had seen couldn't possibly be real. Just as he recovered, a feeling of weightlessness came upon him. He quickly grabbed ahold of the railing and held on as if it was the only thing keeping him anchored to the ship. Others had done so as well. The whole deck seemed to drop under his feet. Matt turned around and puked on the deck at the sudden G-forces.
Then came an a low-pitched whine, slowly building and building until it became a torment. He could feel the pressure of his ears increasing. his eyes were being shoved into their sockets. But he could still see that everyone in the pilot house was down. Fred Reynolds met the captains gaze with a look of terror, and Riggs was laying down on the deck, his hands covering his eyes.
Suddenly, the deck swooped up beneath his feet much like a roller coaster reaching the bottom of a hill. As quickly as they had stopped, the raindrops returned to their normal state, falling on the roof in a deluge. Exhausted from the strain, Matt gathered himself up while the rest of the crew outside picked themselves up and stumbled back to their stations trying to find comfort in their duties. Matt did the same thing. He had no idea what had occurred but he knew that questions would have to come later. Right now he had a ship to save. Suddenly the growing cries of alarm were interrupted by the familiar voice of the Bosun.
"Stow that girlish gab! Where do you think you are? You! Yeah, you, Davis! Secure that shit! Form a detail and clear these shells! Look at this mess! LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL DECK! You'd think a bunch of goddamn hogs or even snips been rootin' around here! You think you've been in a battle? I've had scarier fights with the roaches in the wardroom! Quit pukin', Smitty. You sound like a frog!"
Matt listened as Gray's abuse moved aft. Riggs was still at the wheel, shaking as he stood, and Matt nodded at him.
"Damage report! Why've we stopped?" Matt said firmly. Bernard Sandison was at the speakerphone listening in to the reports coming from all across the ship.
"Lieutenant Mcfarlane shut down the engines." He said. "Water's coming into the engine room but the pumps can handle it. We took a lot of hits forward and there's lots of casualties. Doc's dead." He added grimly.
"He was working on Rodriguez when a shell came through and just... Tore him apart. A lot of wounded were killed in the wardroom by that shell. One of the female nurses is dead." He said quietly. "She was standing right next to the doc. Mr. Rogers is dead too. Mr. Garrett can see blood running down the mast from the crows nest." Sandison replied to Garrett and then listened to other reports before looking up at Matt.
"Jesus skipper! We've got a lot of holes."
"Anything on the horn? Anything from Mahan?"
Sandison shook his head. "Radioman Clancy reported that there haven't been a peep since we entered the squall. Before that we were getting a lot of distress calls. Mostly merchant ships needing escorts, but now just static."
"Casualties?" Matt said as he ran his hands through his hair
"I'm not sure but... a lot."
"Very well. Secure from general quarters. But keep the crews on the guns and a sharp lookout. See if we can get some hot food into theses guys." He covered a jaw-racking yawn with his hand. "And I need more coffee. Also have lieutenant Ellis report to the bridge when able." He paused and added. "Ask the Bosun to get some men to retrieve Mr. Rogers."
As the men of the ship preformed their duties, Matt yearned to be under way. They had no way of knowing if the Mahan survived. They had taken as much pressure off as they could, but he didn't want to think about how that turned out. Apparently during the battle Walker had returned to help Mahan while she was making a suicide charge to let them get clear. Matt could only hope the confusion saved them both. But even if she survived she would be in bad shape. But there was nothing they could do for the moment.
Amagi had been badly hit though. Two of their torpedoes hit the cruiser dead on and another one vaporized the destroyer accompanying the capital ship. Just how badly it had been damaged was anyone's guess. Enough to retire? Maybe. Enough to sink? That would grant his fondest wish. But that was the least of their problems. Those other cruisers were still out there.
Once Walker regained steam pressure they pressed on. All they could do was pray Mahan had escaped. Matt started to wonder if the other destroyer had seen the same phenomenon Walker had. Matt shuttered for a moment. He had to have been seeing things. The weird rain was explainable. Probably an updraft of shorts. But that great void beneath them? No, it had to have been an hallucination. Probably brought on by exhaustion and the stress of combat.
"Skipper, Mr. Garrett says the squall's passing."
As Matt stirred he caught a glimpse of one of the nurses entering the pilot house. Her brown eyes widened in surprise when they met his. She timidly set a coffee urn on the deck, tentatively shoving it in his direction before vanishing down the latter.
"Coffee's here." Matt announced.
Before long Walker emerged from the mysterious squall into the afternoon sun. The storm raged behind them but would soon dissipate. All expected to see the menacing forms of Japanese cruisers to emerge soon. If only they hadn't lost the engines when they did. They could have been long gone. Walkers first officer Jim Ellis reported to the bridge.
"The ships a wreck sir. Everything topside has a hole in it. We're in better shape below the water line, if you can believe it." He sighed. "You know, my grandad was at Manila Bay. His brother was at Santiago Bay. He always said there'd be days like this, only he made it sound more fun."
Matt nodded. "Dad was on a can like this in the North Atlantic, during the last war. They chased a few subs, but never anything like this. Somehow I think his stories were closer to the mark. He didn't have fun. And I can't imagine many things more miserable that one of theses four stackers in the North Atlantic. Not until the past couple of months that is."
They'd been talking quietly already, but Matt looked around the bridge and lowered his voice even further before bringing up the uncomfortable subject he had in mind.
"What do you think about our... experience, right after we entered the squall?"
Jim hesitated for a minute. "I'm, ah, thinking it was a freakish updraft or something."
Matt nodded. "Me too. In fact, that's how I'll instruct Mr. Tolson to enter it into the log. But... Did you ever happen to look over the side?" Lieutenant Ellis recoiled back in shock as his face turned white.
"A little." He whispered.
"How many of the crew, do you think, may have seen it?"
"Not many. Hell, probably none. They were pretty busy at the time. Then with the screwy raindrop, I figure everyone was looking up."
Matt rubbed his head. "Damn. I only asked you to confirm that I hadn't seen anything. Well, at least we're back in the real world were the only thing we have to worry about is the Japanese."
"Maybe sir but if it's all the same to you..."
Both men were interrupted by quartermaster's mate 2nd class Norman Kutas.
"Mr. Garrett reports surface target, bearing one seven zero! Range five five double oh!"
They rushed to the starboard bridge wing and brought their binoculars to bear. A dark form was taking shape behind them as the squall dispersed. It was listing to port with smoke poring from amidships.
"Oh, my god, skipper," Jim gasped. "It's Mahan!"
...
Chief Arnook of the Southern Water Tribe watched as the young warriors loaded their supply's from the ice dock onto the small cutter sailing ships in the harbor. Many of the men were water-bending students of master Pakku, off to utilize an train their skills in the open ocean. Coincidently, he noticed a familiar presence behind him.
"I see you students are almost ready" Arnook said as master Pakku himself walked up next to him.
"We will be leaving within the hour." Pakku announced in his constantly serious tone of voice.
"I almost wish I could go with you."
"Hunting is for men much younger that ether of us." Pakku said.
"And yet you go." Arnook pointed out.
"I need to make sure my students behave while they practice on the voyage. Though even when we get back, with their progress lately, I doubt they will have the skill to fight giant crabs."
The old Chief suppressed a chuckled. But Pakku didn't even flinch. Water-bending master Pakku never laughed and almost never smiled. Not even to his own dry humor.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to check to make sure my pupils remembers to pack the instruction scrolls for our voyage." He said.
The old master proceeded down a set of ice stairs that lead from the habitation level to the lower dock and canal level, the lowest part of the great city of ice. Arnook watched as he confronted one of the students.
"Sangok! What did I tell you about putting my personal items next to the supply of sea prunes? I would prefer that my clothing not smell like your afternoon lunches."