Joint Base Pearl Harbor-Hickam, once the crown jewel of the Pacific fleet, looked and felt more like a ghost town as Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Chris Enfield's SUV drove through it. After the disaster that had been the First Battle of Midway 6 months ago, most non-military personnel had voluntarily evacuated the base. In fact, the only reason his wife was still on base was because of her role in taking care of the Navy's newest assets. No one had expected Pearl to hold out as long as it had, and if it hadn't been for The Fleet Girls, it likely wouldn't have. While the blow to morale this caused had been somewhat softened thanks to communication systems like Skype and the wide spread use of smart phones, it didn't take an ONI analyst to figure out it was near rock bottom for base personnel.
As much as no one wanted to admit it, of the 4 naval station left on the Pacific coast, Pearl was the most expendable. San Diego was the heart of the fleet, and if lost meant not only the complete cut off of important supplies to both Hawaii and Alaskan oil via Seattle, but also the destruction of a good portion of the remainder of the 'Human" navy. Losing Panama would mean the crippling of operations across the Coast. Pearl, whose main contributions were to the supply line to Australia and as a layer of defense before San Diego, seemed to pale in comparison to those three. It was probably why his command was the smallest in both regular and Fleet Girl assets.
Crossing The Ford Island Bridge, he laid his eyes on the former part of that command, or what was left of it. What had once been a force of 2 Ticonderoga class Missile Cruisers and 9 Destroyers was now reduced to one of the former, USS Lake Erie, 3 Arleigh Burke class destroyers and 1 Zumwalt class Destroyer, USS Cassin Young. Until news of North Carolina's (BB-55) arrival and pending assignment under his command had reached him, Cassin had been his ace in the hole, ship-wise. Between its rail gun and reduced radar signature, Cassin, the last of the six ships of her class, had proven remarkably well at engaging Abyssals on their terms and hitting well above their displacement.
His submarines had faired only mildly better. While the majority of the base's 20 Los Angeles and Virginia class subs had survived, their crews had needed to relearn tactics and methods declared obsolete over a half century before. In addition, it had been found that the Mk.48 torpedo needed a complete remodeling, which was going to take months if not years to do so.
Hickam Air Force base had seen the biggest changes of all. With most of the Islands air units transferred back to Wheeler, only one of the runways was still in use, and that was mainly for Reaper Drones. The outer most runway had been turned into an artificial concrete-reinforced hill housing a battery of M777's as well as a 155mm Advanced Gun System salvaged from one of the two Zumwalts lost during a bomber attack 3 months before. In addition, a rail gun salvaged from the other sat across the entrance at Iroquois Point. Most of the other airports in Hawaii, having been "borrowed" by the military, were undergoing similar renovations or being used as bases for various strike, fighter, or reconnaissance aircraft.
The C-130 that was supposed to be carrying the Carolinas was just rolling into the old Hawaii Air National Guard hanger when his ride pulled up. South Carolina was easy for him to recognize, the two have seen each other at many a meeting. Not that North Carolina was hard to spot either, her rather out of place clothing causing her to stick out like a sore thumb.
"Afternoon Ladies." He said walking up to them. "I trust the plane ride was enjoyable."
"Better than most." South Carolina said. North Simply fired off a salute that Admiral Enfield immediately returned.
"At ease North Carolina." Admiral Enfield said. "You ladies probably want to get back to the Island. North Carolina, we'll drop you off at the barracks so you can get settled while me and South Carolina finalize some things. The two battleships simply nodded as they entered the back of the vehicle.
Sleep did not come easy for the Fletcher Class destroyer USS The Sullivans. Even as tired as she was, the destroyer couldn't manage more than an hour's rest before inevitably being jolted awake by the same nightmare. After the third such attempt she gave up, taking a shower to wash away the layer of sweat that now drenched her and changing into a new set of NWU's. She then made way to the dining room on the first floor, where their caretaker, a Mrs. Elizabeth Enfield, was reading a book. The former shrink, who now helped her husband's new command in both getting adjusted to their new world and with dealing with issues stemming from their past lives, looked up at her as she entered the room.
"Trouble sleeping Sully?" she asked.
Sullivan's nodded. "It's the nightmares again."
"Lake Ontario?" Elizabeth asked with a frown. It was an all too common problem for these girls, especially those sunk in combat. As far as she knew, every Fleet Girl she had run into, outside The Taffies, had told her about it at least once.
Sullivan's simply nodded again. "You don't think they mean anything do you?"
"It's hard to know Sully." Elizabeth said getting up and given the destroyer a much needed hug. "Dreams embody a lot of things. Hopes, wishes, fears… these can all affect what we dream about. How about you talk to me again in a couple of days after you've had a chance to clear your head, now that you won't be doing both my husband's work on top of your normal patrols? Now, we have a new couple of new guests, maybe you could be a dear and help me get their rooms ready, seeing as your sisters and the Northampton's are nowhere to be found."
It wasn't until they were almost to the Barracks at the Navy Lodge on Ford Island before North spoke up. "I hope you don't mind settling for me. I'm sure you need something better then a treaty battleship."
From the front seat Admiral Enfield just chuckled. "With all due respect North, a treaty battleship isn't settling. Especially one from the class regarded as the best treaty ships ever made." He said as the SUV slowed to a stop in front of the lodge. As they pulled up to the front, he saw his wife and Sully standing by the door. Seeing the later caused him to frown a little, he had been hoping that she was finally getting some much-needed rest. Getting out he opened the rear door. "North Carolina, South Carolina, meet my wife Dr. Elizabeth Enfield and destroyer USS The Sullivans, DD-537. North, I'll leave you under their care for now. A car will be around in a few hours to take you and the rest of the girls to dinner at the chow hall in our HQ. I know you don't have much with you so you'll find a couple sets of NWU's in your room. We'll get rank and name patches sorted out later."
"Rank?" North Carolina asked.
"Didn't South tell you? Upon finishing your training, you'll be awarded the rank of commander." As if on cue Sullivan snapped to attention, firing off a picture-perfect salute. North could see the brown haired girl, who looked no more than 16 at the most, held the rank of Lieutenant Commander. North returned the salute before following her and Mrs. Enfield into the building.
"Still getting use to all this ma'am?" The destroyer asked as they walked through the former lobby. The lodge had been chosen as a barracks because of several reasons. It was close to the command building at the Ford Island Conference Center, as well as secluded enough to give the girls a bit of privacy. In addition, the navy felt that the historic significance of the island might make the Fleet girls a little more comfortable.
"Yes." North answered. "And please stop calling me ma'am. Its North Carolina, or North. I'm not all that comfortable with being immediately made a commander."
"Orders of the Navy." Mrs. Enfield replied, a slight distain in her voice. "Battleships and Aircraft carriers start at Commander, Cruisers at Lieutenant Commander, and Destroyers at Lieutenant Senior Grade. They figure that you girls would have a better understanding of how to run things given that you were former command ships."
"I'm sure you'll do fine." Sullivan's added. "You can't be any worse than the Northampton's."
Before either North or Elizabeth could respond, the door behind them opened. In walked two girls, both about 19 years of age. The first had strawberry blond hair and brown eyes. "This the new girl?" she asked with a New England accent.
"This 'new girl'," Sully began looking rather irritated. ", Is the battleship USS North Carolina, first ship of her class. Show a little respect you two."
"North Carolina…" the other, a fiery redhead who spoke with a southern accent said. "Would have preferred a South Dakota, but any port in a storm."
"Ignore her." The first one said. "The names Northampton, first of my class as well. The one who doesn't know what a good battleship looks like is my little sister Augusta. You'll have to excuse her though. She spent the entire war with Pre-Standard's and Brit ships, so anything with 16's will do for her."
"The South Dakota's are better." Augusta shot back. "Not my fault you never got to see one in action."
"You're right." Northampton replied. "All I remember is hearing about South Dakota getting her teeth kicked in by a battlecruiser pretending to be battleship while North's sister took care of business."
"Girls." Mrs. Enfield cut-in. "Maybe you can take this debate elsewhere. North's still getting use to all this."
"Sure thing Mrs. E." Augusta said shepherding her to the elevator. Their argument still audible until the door closed behind them.
The trio made their way up the stairs to the first floor, where North's room was. It wasn't much, consisting of a queen-sized bed with Navy blue sheets and a connected bathroom. True to the admiral's word, three sets of Navy Work Uniforms, roughly North's size, sat on the bed.
"We'll give you an hour to freshen up." Mrs. Enfield said. "It sounds like you've had quite the day."
"So how long do you think it'll take to get North up to speed." Admiral Enfield asked. He and South were in the newly completed USN Fleet Girl command Bunker. Built to survive almost anything, the structure served as the control point to all forces located in the Hawaiian Islands.
"It should only be two weeks at most until she can act as a field commander." South replied. "I know you were hoping for me to say days rather than weeks, but I want to be sure I do this right. She'll still be able to fight in a few days, you'll just have to leave the Northamptons in command for the time being."
"I still don't like is. The Northamptons are overly aggressive. They like to close and close fast. I know North's designed to be a better distance fighter rather than a close in brawler. We'll probably need to write up some new formations and tactics." Enfield concluded. "Sorry, if I'm pushing a lot on you. Its just Sully could use the break."
"Compared to the Joint Chiefs, this is nothing." South Carolina replied. "Besides I have a lot more free time compared to Sullivan. I still don't understand why you're leaning on her so much."
"You have looked at our roster, right?" Enfield said in a rather shocked tone. "Speaking of which. You might want to switch out of that uniform before we eat. Tonight's spaghetti dinner, and things tend to get a little messy when the taffies are involved."
"It's only three destroyers." South Carolina replied jokingly. "How hard can it be to manage them?"
Several Hours Later
The answer turned out to be harder than expected. Both North Carolina and South Carolina had foolishly sat with their backs facing the serving line. As such they never saw the three Fletcher class destroyers collectively known as the Taffies disappear behind it, snickering all the way. Neither did they seem to notice both Northampton and Augusta vacate the seats on either side of them like they were a pair of ammunition barges that had just caught fire. By the time Sullivan's warning found their ears, it was already too late.
"Don't you dare!" was all they heard her say before a tidal wave of spaghetti fell over them. Brushing pasta and red sauce out of her eyes South turned around to the three destroyers holding now-empty buckets.
"Welcome to Pearl!" The three girls said in unison. "Normally we use water for that." Hoel said between giggling fits, her chocolate colored pigtails bounce ever so slightly.
"But with it being Spaghetti night and all, we just couldn't resist." Johnston added. Spaghetti sauce decorated blond haired destroyers face like war paint, though the effect was lost because of the grin spreading across her face.
"Well maybe you should have given that they're your commanding officers." Sullivans said in a clearly aggravated tone. Admiral Enfield stood next to her, a look on his face that show disapproval for what the Taffies had done, yet betrayed just a hint of a grin. His wife did her best to suppress a giggle while The Northamptons were in the midst of a full on laughing fit.
"Come on Sully." The amber haired USS Heerman said. "It's not like we're hurting anything. What's wrong with a little fun and team bonding?"
Before she could respond, Sully was cut off by South's laughter. "Don't worry Sully," she said. "I appreciate the welcome."
"Same here." North said, pasta sauce dripping down her now-red hair and face. "Besides I'm sure South wouldn't mind a few helpers to clean this mess up."
Heerman froze in her tracks at the last part, looking at the spaghetti covered table and floor. "She wouldn't…" was all that could be said before she felt South's hands on her shoulder.
"Want to bet?" The old Dreadnought said with a rather scary looking grin.
