DISCLAIMER: See Chapter One.
Another chapter so soon? Guess I was inspired by the KanColle movie that came out. Didn't see it personally, but I've read an online premise so I know what happens. (If you want spoilers, PM me.)
Thanks to Generalfeldmarschall, Robert Ed. House of 48 Aces, The Glorious Executioner, Alpha Highbreed, Tekketsu, Pyeknu, Lt. Cmdr. Jonathan Miller, and slamer466 for reviewing Chapter Twenty-Four, and to Alpha Highbreed, F-14 Tomcat Lover, Krugger, kyuubi092, The Dead Baron, Nirvana of Darkness, Pyeknu, and FBMPyrotech for reviewing the omake!
Chapter Twenty-Five: Chaos in Troubled Waters
As August became September, life at the naval base slowly returned to normal after Avers' return. Well, as normal as life at the naval base could get, anyways. Professor Tanabe had managed to repair the summoning machine, but had cut back on his rate of summoning; since the machine had been repaired, only four shipgirls – battleship Oklahoma and destroyers Cassin, Shaw, and Downes – had been summoned.
Upon first being summoned, Oklahoma – like most of the shipgirls – was disoriented, but after being informed of the situation appeared ready to fight the new enemy. That is, until she realized where she was and whom she was fighting alongside. Upon realizing that she was expected to make nice with the very same ships whose aircraft had ripped her guts out and capsized her at anchor…well, she wasn't exactly jumping for joy. Upon meeting her, Avers noted one thing immediately: though she hid it well, for this battlewagon, the war was not over. She wanted revenge, and she was going to do something about it the first chance she got. Avers made a note to keep an eye on her, for sooner or later she was going to make her move.
The three new destroyers were just the opposite: they accepted their circumstances. Despite all three having been present on 7 December 1941 – and all three having suffered catastrophic damage during the raid – Cassin, Shaw, and Downes had gone on to serve throughout the war and lived to see Japan surrender, so they bore no ill will towards their former enemies.
But even though there was an uncertain situation in that direction, one thing could always be counted on: There was always going to be some sort of chaos to make Avers forget about any potential problems. And destroyers – whether it be the adorable moe-blobs of DesDiv 6, the hyper little murder-balls of Taffy Three, or the nutcases of DesDiv 45 – were usually involved in said chaos somehow or another. It was especially true of the last bunch…they didn't have a mom-boat to mind them, so most of the time they were left to their own devices.
Avers had vowed to string up and slowly dissect with a rusty Spork – and no anesthetic – whatever individual had thought it a good idea to introduce DesDiv 45 to the world of Jackass. He'd been forced to lie down on the couch in his office to calm his nerves when he saw the DesDiv 45 group Facebook page the quartet had created proudly bearing the statement 'Johnny Knoxville is a god'. The YouTube channel they'd started – which catalogued their insane stunts, along with the reactions of whomever was witnessing them – was currently at just over twenty thousand followers and climbing.
Today, however, DesDiv 45 had taken a break from their insane antics to help out around the naval base. There was a dripping shower head in the bathroom on the second floor of their dorm room, and although Base Maintenance personnel had been informed of it, a dripping shower head was – when compared with some of the other problems on their list – quite minor and could be dealt with at a much-later date.
It had been two weeks since the dripping shower head had been reported to Base Maintenance and nothing had been done as of yet. Hence, it was only logical to infer that Base Maintenance had way too much on their plates and therefore would greatly appreciate some help.
And this is what led to DesDiv 45 making a preliminary reconnaissance on the leaky shower head before leaving base to take the ferry to the mainland. Once there, they headed over to the local Home Center store (Japan's version of Home Depot or Lowe's) where they purchased anything they thought they might need. After a not-so-quick detour to a large fireworks store en route back to base, they were now once more standing in the bathroom, looking determinedly at their opponent.
"That's our objective, guys," Stanly informed his brothers. "Make that thing stop leaking."
"Well, first we gotta figure out why it's leaking," Charlie stated. "So to do that, we –"
"Blast?" Claxton grinned hopefully, holding up a string of M80s and a lighter.
"Naw, dude! In plumbing you only use blasting as a last resort!" Dyson shot back.
"Right!" Charlie put in. "Besides, you should always try a hammer first! And if that don't work, then you can blast!"
"How about we first try removing the shower head?" Stanly quirked an eyebrow at his brothers' tendency for the extreme.
"…or yeah, we could do that," Claxton shrugged.
The destroyers quickly ran into an obstacle: the shower head was stuck tight. No amount of twisting it with their bare hands would dislodge it.
"Hmm…" Stanly mused, staring at the shower head as though he expected his intense, thoughtful gaze would dislodge it.
"Now can we blast?" Claxton asked, causing Dyson to roll his eyes.
"Dude, hold on! We haven't even tried a hammer yet!"
"That's the next step," Stanly replied. "Charlie," he addressed his nearest brother, "hand me that wrench, would ya?"
"No problem, bro," the destroyer passed Stanly the large red monkey wrench, and the division leader hooked it onto the pipe sticking out of the wall that the shower head was attached to.
"Now, hand me the hammer," he stated.
"Dude," Claxton sounded uncertain, "while I'm all for blasting and shit, I dunno if I've ever heard a hammer referred to as 'the plumber's helper'."
Dyson scoffed. "Of course not, dude…plumbing's a serious business! You think those guys are gonna reveal their secrets to just anyone?"
"True," Claxton conceded.
"More workie, less talkie," Stanly stated, taking the hammer from Charlie and positioning it against the handle of the wrench.
"Here we go!" he stated, and swung firmly. The hammer impacted squarely with the wrench handle, just like he'd planned.
There was a loud metallic 'chink' and the pipe sticking out of the wall broke off.
Stanly lowered the wrench that was still firmly grasping the piece of pipe attached to the shower head. Charlie reached up and took hold of the shower head. To everyone's surprise, it now turned easily and quickly slipped off the chunk of pipe.
As one, the four destroyers looked back up at the busted pipe sticking out of the wall.
"Huh…" Dyson trailed off.
"Told ya we shoulda blasted," Claxton muttered.
"This job just got a whole lot more complicated," Stanly stated.
"Least the shower head finally came off," Charlie decided to look on the bright side.
The next morning, destroyer Tashkent made her way up to her dorm room after a sleepover at DesDiv 6's home. She'd befriended Hibiki upon discovering the Japanese destroyer had served in the Soviet Navy for eight years after the war, and as such the pair got along quite well. She found it interesting to see how grounded and serious Hibiki was in the midst of her three sister ships, a sword-wielding, eye-patch-wearing mom-boat, a Supply Officer father figure who worshipped the ground said mom-boat walked on, and an adopted brother who – more often than not – appeared shell-shocked by the insanity around him.
Now the Russian destroyer had returned to her dorm after a good time with some friends. As she made her way down the hall, the murmur of voices and several rumblings that sounded like rubble collapsing coming from the communal bathroom piqued her interest, so she headed in that direction.
When she pushed open the door, her jaw dropped at the sight she beheld. While most of the bathroom was perfectly fine, one shower stall had been completely decimated. Broken tiles were everywhere, the surrounding wall had had large holes apparently blasted out of it, and several pipes that looked like they should have been inside the wall now lay on the floor amidst the rubble. And sitting on benches nearby, looking quite satisfied, were the four destroyers of DesDiv 45.
"Guys, I'd say this was a job well-done," Stanly grinned at his brothers.
"Yep," Charlie agreed. "Thought for sure we'd hit a snag when that pipe broke, but we powered through."
"Didn't I tell ya? Super Glue works wonders," Dyson put in.
"As does spot-welding," Claxton stated, glancing over at the welding rig in the corner. "And I even got to blast some, too."
"Bozhe moi!" Tashkent exclaimed as she beheld the chaos. "What have you four done here?!"
"Oh hey, Tash!" Dyson actually waved at the Russian destroyer.
"We decided to help out Base Maintenance," Charlie replied. He grinned and pointed at the shower head. "That ol' shower head won't leak anymore, that's for sure!"
"Yep! All it took was planning, some ingenuity, and nineteen straight hours of hard work!" Claxton chimed in.
"Hey, if you wanna make an omelet, you gotta break some eggs," Stanly reminded his brothers.
"This place looks like Tidy Bowl Man went berserk," Tashkent muttered, causing Claxton and Dyson to burst out laughing. Charlie reached over and picked up one of the pipes lying on the ground.
"Hey, Bro," he asked Stanly, "Where does this go?"
Stanly looked at the pipe for a few moments, then over at one of the holes in the wall, and then back at the pipe again before answering his brother.
"Trash," he replied. Charlie nodded in satisfaction and tossed the pipe onto a pile of broken tiles. Tashkent groaned and shook her head.
Stanly stood up and dusted off the knees of his pants. "C'mon, guys…let's button this job up. Tonight's Movie Night, and I'm not missing Dr. Strange." He walked over to the faucet. "I think it's time for a test run."
Tashkent decided to go check her hair at one of the mirrors. As long as she didn't actually see the chaos, then she couldn't be called as a witness in any investigations.
Stanly reached down and turned the faucet knobs. A sound like engines powering up for takeoff rumbled through the bathroom. The formerly leaky shower head blasted off the spot-welded end of the pipe, shot across the bathroom, and straight into a mirror on the opposite wall, shattering it.
DesDiv 45 watched it go, then turned and gazed at the pipe that was now gushing water at an alarming rate. Suddenly they snapped out of it; Stanly reached down and fiddled with the faucet knobs in an attempt to turn off the water; they turned loosely, and when he twisted them far enough over to one side they simply fell off in his hands. He stood back up, holding a knob in each hand, and gave his brothers a stricken look.
"Uh-oh…" Charlie, Claxton, and Dyson chorused.
"Well, do something!" Stanly ordered the others.
Charlie bent down and rummaged in a tool satchel, pulling out a rubber mallet and a large cork.
"Stand aside, fellas!" He held up the items like they were relics that would save the world. "Charlie Ausburne's gonna save the day!"
Bracing the cork against the torrent of water, he pressed it against the broken piece of pipe and hammered it in using the rubber mallet. The flow of water slowed, then ceased.
"See?" the destroyer grinned at his brothers. "Nothin' to it!"
Tashkent refused to look in the direction of the chaos and continued messing with her hair. She was thinking she should probably leave the bathroom altogether when the knobs on the faucet of her sink were blown off by water escaping, showering her with twin streams of water and turning her hair into a mess. The destroyer shrieked in surprise and jumped back from the sink, cursing wildly in Russian.
"Whoa…I dunno what the hell she's saying, but it don't sound good," Dyson muttered.
"Tash! Plug the holes with your fingers!" Stanly called.
The Russian destroyer swore and did as he asked, incredibly pissed-off that she'd allowed herself to be inadvertently dragged into the chaos that was anything DesDiv 45 attempted to do.
As Tashkent plugged up the faucet holes with her fingers, an even bigger cacophony arose as the water decided to blast out of the five toilets in the bathroom.
"Don't look at me for this one!" Tashkent yelled. "And someone get over here and help me…my fingers are now stuck!"
"Get some nails, boys!" Charlie yelled as Claxton and Dyson went over to help the Russian destroyer. "Let's start nailing toilet lids down!"
"Those things are porcelain, not wood!" Stanly hollered. "Nails won't do anything to 'em!"
Once Tashkent's fingers were freed, Stanly turned to the group. "Each of you take a toilet, close the lid, and sit down! We'll trap the water that way!"
Tashkent looked at him like he was crazy, but she was also forced to admit to herself that she knew nothing about plumbing repair; maybe Stanly's idea was insane enough to work.
And to her astonishment, it did work…for all of about thirty seconds. Then two sinks literally exploded off the pipes they were mounted on, sending a clear message to the five destroyers: the water was now in charge.
"ABANDON BATHROOM!" Stanly yelled. "Let's get down to the first floor and shut off the water, then we can go get some Shop-Vacs and clean up this mess!"
The group turned and headed for the door, but stopped dead when they saw the repair detail from Base Maintenance standing there, gaping as though unable to believe what they were seeing.
Warrant Officer Sosuke Zeisho had seen quite a bit in his time with the World Kanmusu Fleet. And while most people would think that being a part of the Base Maintenance group was probably the shittiest job there was – the chaos of Pacific War-era warships adapting to life in the 21st Century and living in human form had been known to create epic-scale damage and messes – it was actually the cushiest job around.
The Base Maintenance group got paid monthly like all military personnel, but – as they were also some of the most hard-working (due to how often chaos occurred) and under-appreciated people on base – they also received a stipend depending on how big a mess they had to clean up. Even better, promotions were on a set scale, and one didn't have to have a college degree or have gone to an Armed Forces Academy to become an officer; Zeisho himself had only two more months before he was eligible for promotion, and if he was honest, he saw himself staying in uniform for the long haul. But up until a few moments ago, he'd just been looking forward to getting commissioned two months from now; Ensign Zeisho sounded pretty damn good to him.
Then he and his detachment had gotten the call to go fix a leaky shower head in one of the destroyer dorm bathrooms. While it wasn't a major mess, they'd packed up their tools and headed over there, expecting to be there and gone within the hour.
Boy, were they wrong. But while the magnitude of the mess was astounding, neither Zeisho nor his men minded one bit. Again, they got paid a stipend depending on how big a mess they had to clean up. And this mess looked like it was going to earn him a check that would give his younger sisters one hell of a Merry Christmas.
But first they had to contain the damage. Zeisho whirled to face his detail, his attention zeroing in on the personnel nearest the stairwell.
"Sato! Get downstairs and shut off the water! Komura, Inami, the two of you go find three or four wet-dry vacs and one of those big rolls of black contractor bags! Let's get this done in a hurry…let the higher-ups know that Repair Team 6 doesn't waste time!"
"Hai!" the three enlisted men responded, and took off. Zeisho turned back to the five destroyers.
"All right," he stated, "I have got to hear how this one started."
The four male destroyers began talking over one another, babbling excitedly about how they'd decided to help out since Base Maintenance seemed to have a lot on their plate, only they'd hit a snag when the pipe broke and things just seemed to go downhill when they decided to test out their repairs and wasn't that always the way of things?
"Hey, Chief?" Zeisho turned to see Petty Officer 3rd Class Muneo Imanishi looking at the pipe with the cork jammed into it. "This pipe looks like it was spot-welded."
"Yeah, that was our way of fixing the pipe when it broke," Charlie replied.
"As you can see, it didn't really work," Stanly put in.
"Kid…the terms 'plumbing' and 'spot-welding' aren't supposed to go together," Imanishi groaned. "In fact, they're pretty much on the opposite ends of the spectrum!"
A faerie crawled out of Stanly's shirt and stood on his shoulder. From the way the little man was waving and the amount of tiny 'Hey's he was emitting, it was obvious he disagreed with what Imanishi was saying. Imanishi listened to what was being said – somehow he could understand every word of it – and then nodded.
"Understood, Chief, sorry for doubting you."
Zeisho turned back to the group in front of him. Save for all the water everywhere, the damage was really only confined to the one shower stall, and his team could have that finished by the end of the day.
"Our apologies for making all this work for you," the lone girl stated in a Russian accent.
Zeisho smiled courteously at her. "Don't worry about it…Base Maintenance personnel get a stipend check for every job they have to do that results from ship-person chaos. This job right here will probably buy my younger sisters that PlayStation 5 they want for Christmas, so actually I should be thanking you."
The Russian destroyer giggled, and Zeisho forced himself to ignore how pretty she was.
Twenty minutes later, Tashkent and DesDiv 45 headed out of the restroom. Zeisho's team had the repairs well in hand, and they quickly told the destroyers they didn't need help in their repairs; Claxton's longing glance at the spot-welding rig and then his random fiddling with some fireworks and a lighter probably accelerated the repair team's efforts to get them out of there.
As they exited, they found Mutsu coming up the stairs with five more destroyer boys.
"And this is the upstairs, where you'll be located –" she stopped her tour upon seeing DesDiv 45. "Oh, and here are your neighbors on this floor –" She stopped again, seeing the stunned looks on the eight Americans' faces.
"Stanly? Charlie?" one whispered.
"Clax? Dys?" another gasped.
"DUDES!" Claxton exclaimed to his brothers, "Look who it is! DesDiv 46! Converse, Foote, Spence, Thatcher, and our squadron flagship Aulick!"
"Nicky's back, too," Spence put in. "She's with Willie, Bannie, and Kidd."
"Awesome!" DesDiv 45 exclaimed.
An extremely excitable reunion followed as Mutsu and Tashkent looked on. Mutsu smiled fondly, remembering her own emotional reunion with her own sister ship, while Tashkent looked on in horror. Her four neighbors were insane enough, but she'd tolerated them up to now; now there were five more. And they all knew each other. They'd all served together…in the same squadron, no less. They were all brothers.
"Nyet…ne sovsem. Ya ne spravit'sya s etim!" (1) The Russian destroyer muttered, shaking her head as she turned away and headed purposefully down the hall to her room.
"Something wrong, Tash?" Mutsu followed her, standing in the doorway looking concerned.
"Nine boys?!" The Russian destroyer whirled to face the Japanese battleship. "I am forced to share floor – and bathroom, let's not forget that – with nine BOYS?!"
Mutsu bit her lip, finding it very hard to not burst out laughing.
"The four boys were crazy enough, now there are five more?! I leave for one night, they destroy bathroom by playing plumber! What if I leave for week on maneuvers?" the Russian destroyer complained. "Will dorm still be standing when I return? Between nine of them, I think not!"
Mutsu couldn't handle it anymore and burst out giggling.
"It's not funny!" Tashkent exclaimed in Russian, but Mutsu waved off her anger.
"I'm sorry," she giggled. "It's just that it's so cute…you're finding out what it's like to live with younger siblings…isn't it fun?"
"Nyet!" Tashkent gestured in the direction of the bathroom. "They are…how do you say…touched in head, yes? They have no regard for their personal safety…did you know they play baseball with balls filled with explosive powder from depth-charges?"
Mutsu nodded. "The Admiral told us about that one."
Tashkent nodded. "What kind of personnel do these sorts of things?"
"Well," Mutsu replied, "the motto of the U.S. Navy destroyer force during World War II was 'Live Fast, Die Hard, Take Many With You'…I guess they've just chosen to live that phrase to the fullest."
"'Live Fast'…fine," Tashkent replied. "'Die Hard'…that's their business. But 'Take Many With You' part? Have that pertain only to enemy, not neighbors in dormitory!"
As if in reply to the Russian destroyer's statement, a conversation drifted down the hall from DesDiv 45's room.
"Dude, what're these things?" Spence's voice was heard asking.
"FGM-148 Javelins," Stanly replied. "Don't mess with 'em…nobody knows they're in here."
"They don't look like javelins," Foote put in.
"That's just the name for 'em," came the reply. "They're anti-tank missiles."
"AWESOME!" Thatcher replied. "Can we shoot one?"
Mutsu's eyes widened in horror. Tashkent gestured in the direction of the conversation as if to say, 'my point exactly'.
There was a reluctant sigh before Stanly replied with, "Oh, fine…I got a case of thirty plus three spares, anyways. Just do it outside, will ya?"
"Well, I wasn't gonna fire it off in here, duh!" his brother ship replied, hefting the nearly-fifty-pound rig with ease and walking into the hallway.
"Just making sure," Stanly murmured before turning to a futuristic-looking gun on his desk.
"Wuzzat, dude?" Foote looked at it with interest.
"That's the fully-functional blaster I'm building," Stanly replied. "It's based off the one Han Solo used in the original Star Wars."
"What's Star Wars?" Thatcher asked. "Sounds cool."
"Only the most epically-awesome movie EVER!" Claxton yelled. "Dudes!" He yelled to the rest of DesDiv 45, "We gotta show these guys Star Wars…they'll go nuts!"
"I'm not missing Dr. Strange," Stanly replied, "but you guys can stay here and watch Star Wars if you want to."
"Nah, we'll come with you," Aulick replied. "Then we can come back here and marathon Star Wars."
"Sounds like a plan," Converse put in. "How many Star Wars movies are there?"
"Right now there're seven," Stanly replied. "An off-shoot, Rogue One, is supposed to be coming out this Christmas, and then Episode VIII sometime next year."
"The first three films are the prequels, but they came out like twenty years after Episodes IV, V, and VI," Claxton stated.
"Why'd they do that?" Converse wondered.
"I dunno," Dyson replied, "but we'll watch 'em in order. The first three have a really hot Princess in 'em!"
"Episode VI has a girl in a skimpy metal bikini," Charlie grinned.
"Girl in a metal bikini?" Spence, who'd been listening to the conversation while he was out in the hallway fiddling with the Javelin, stuck his head back in the room. "Dudes, I'm there!"
"I know, right?" Aulick grinned. "I haven't even seen these films yet, but already I'm likin' 'em more and more."
Spence gave his brother a thumbs-up and ducked back into the hallway.
"You see what I will be living with?" Tashkent informed Mutsu. "Why I cannot simply room with Japanese destroyers or with my fellow Russian ships I will never know!"
"Come on, it won't be that bad," Mutsu tried encouraging the Russian destroyer. "Besides, they haven't even lived here one day –"
"WHA-HAAA!" There was a yell from the hallway followed by roar of a missile launching. Mutsu stuck her head out of Tashkent's room, saw the Javelin streaking down the hallway seemingly straight for her nose, and jumped back into the Russian destroyer's room with a girlish shriek. The missile roared down the hall and impacted with the window on the far end.
Normally a Javelin's two-man crew set the missile so that only impact with a heavily-armored surface would set it off, but in this case the two-man, highly-trained U.S. Army crew had been replaced by a single, newly-summoned, eager-to-use-expensive-things-that-go-'boom' Fletcher-class destroyer. As such, when the Javelin hit the window, it detonated, rocking the building and obliterating the entire upper wall of the building and part of the roof, and rendering three – thankfully unoccupied – dorm rooms in the building completely unusable.
DesRon 23 stuck their heads out of DesDiv 45's room and gaped at the giant hole at the end of the hall.
"Whoa…" Spence trailed off, stunned. "Weapons sure have changed since my day."
"Dude!" Thatcher exclaimed. "Most-epically AWESOME! We gotta do that again!"
"Hell yeah!" Converse replied. "Let's draw straws and whoever draws the short straw has to stand there while another of us fires one of those things at him!"
"Well, I've always wanted to see what would happen if one of us got hit with one…" Stanly mused. "It's an experiment worth trying." He glowered at his brother. "But we'll do it outside, which is where you were supposed to have fired that thing!"
"Oh, you meant 'outside' as in 'outside the dorm', not 'outside in the hall'," Spence nodded in understanding. "My bad, bro."
"Meh, no harm, no foul," Stanly shrugged.
The door to the bathroom creaked open and Zeisho and his men crept out. The Warrant Officer took one look at the hole and his jaw hit the floor.
"What happened here?!" he gaped.
Stanly snapped a couple pictures of the mess with his digital camera. "The effects of firing off a Javelin anti-tank missile indoors."
Zeisho didn't even want to think about how the destroyer had gotten his hands on such a thing. But his second-in-command, Petty Officer 2nd Class Yasumi Kato, was already barking orders to the rest of the men.
"Get back to Supply and get wood beams, bricks, mortar, a new window, some really big ladders, and roofing tiles! We were on-scene first…this is our job, not Team Four's! Now move it!"
"Hai!"
Zeisho nodded with approval at how fast his XO snapped to it, then turned to the destroyers.
"Who fired off that missile?"
"That'd be me," replied the one standing in the middle of the hallway looking down at the launch unit.
Zeisho walked up to him and – to the destroyer's surprise – hugged him.
"Thank you…because of this incident, I can probably make a down payment on a 2018 Infiniti Q70."
"Um…no problem, dude," Spence looked uncertain.
Nearby, Tashkent stuck her head out of her room and gasped at seeing the damage, then looked at the other end of the hall and saw the culprits. She stormed out of her room.
"Well, now you've got it, Toyota!" she completely misused the American phrase. "Thanks to this, we'll all have to move!"
Spence turned and gave the Russian shipgirl a very-appreciative once-over. "The name's Spence, Red," he replied, giving his fellow destroyer a grin. "How you doin'?"
"I…you…ohhhh!" Tashkent stormed back to her room, muttering darkly under her breath in Russian.
"See?" Mutsu grinned as the destroyer flounced in and sat in her desk chair, "you can't even get mad at them…they're like your younger brothers already."
Tashkent groaned when she realized – though she was loath to admit it – that the battleship was right.
The missile explosion was heard throughout the naval base. In his quarters, Avers sat up in bed and looked around blearily.
"Whadda hell wuzzat?" he muttered sleepily before glancing at the clock. Upon seeing 1000 he did a mental calculation and realized he'd only been asleep six hours. He and Kongo had had – typically for a Friday – a late night.
"Teitoku-des?" a sleepy voice called before a flawless-skinned, naked arm poked out of the cocoon of blankets and pulled Avers back down. The Admiral settled back into the blankets and pulled his fast battleship into his arms.
"It was probably another bit of chaos," he murmured, "about which I'll have yet another screaming fit. But," he amended, smiling contentedly with his eyes closed, "It's Saturday, I'm off-duty, and I have a beautiful woman in my arms. So they can deal with it themselves for once."
Kongo giggled sleepily before snuggling up to her Teitoku and lapsing back into sleep. Avers was quick to follow her.
Over at a house on base, the missile incident was completely overlooked. DesDiv 6 had risen late and – after saying goodbye to Tashkent – three of the four were currently scooping food into Joji's dog bowl while the Great Dane watched them with rapt attention.
"Why don't we let Joji-san feed himself?" Akatsuki complained as she held the forty-pound bag of dog food so that her sister ships could scoop some out.
"We tried that before in the past, nanodesu," Inazuma replied.
"Yeah, and Mama wasn't too happy, remember?" Ikazuchi put in.
"Oh, yeah…" Akatsuki trailed off. "Daddy thought it was funny, though."
"He didn't think it was funny when Mama made him go pick up Joji's messes from the yard so the maintenance crews could cut the grass," Ikazuchi shot back.
"True," Akatsuki conceded.
"Oops!" Ikazuchi spilled a scoop of dog food on the floor. Joji pounced immediately and it was gone in seconds.
"Thank you, Joji-san!" the little destroyer squealed. "You're such a good boy, cleaning up that mess for me!" She hugged the big dog and giggled when he showered her face with doggy kisses.
"You spilled food, Ikazuchi-chan," Inazuma stated, "I don't think Joji-san was going to leave it on the floor, nanodesu."
While her sister ships fed the dog, Hibiki knocked on their brother's door.
"Gavin-san? Are you awake?" the silver-haired destroyer poked her head into the room to find Gavin crouched over the drafting table he'd set up, glancing between a set of blueprint paper he'd tacked to the board and a sheet of schematics nearby.
"Have been since seven," the boy absently responded. "Morning, Hibiki…did you sleep well?"
"Da," she responded, forcing down the blush that always seemed to rise to her face whenever Gavin asked how she was doing. "And you?"
"Quite satisfactory," Gavin replied. "Thanks again for the blueprints you got for me…they've worked out quite well."
"You're welcome," Hibiki replied. "What exactly are you trying to make?"
Her friend turned to face her for the first time that day and grinned excitedly. Hibiki forced herself to ignore the small thrill she felt at seeing him smile.
"Come and see!" he stated excitedly. The silver-haired destroyer walked over and looked at the blueprints.
"Behold!" Gavin stated excitedly. "Kanmu-Shoes!"
"'Kanmu-Shoes'?" Hibiki raised an eyebrow, uncertain as to what she was looking at.
"Shoes for humans that will give them shipgirl propulsion abilities on water!" Gavin grinned at her.
Hibiki's jaw dropped. "Bozhe moi…" she trailed off, stunned at what Gavin had accomplished. "And you're confident this will work?" she asked.
Gavin nodded. "Simple physics is all it is. And if you know how to use skates you can balance on these…same principle. I'm going to have several versions; here's the list."
He gave the destroyer a piece of paper with the product names written on them:
Type I 'Big Seven' – slower speed version for beginners.
Type II 'Junkan' – cruiser speed for more experienced users.
Type III 'Hibiki' – destroyer speed for those wanting to go fast.
Type IV 'Fletcher' – competition version for those wishing to do fancy moves.
Type V 'Wind Racer' – high-speed professional racing version.
Hibiki blushed when she saw the Type III carried her nickname. "You named one of your products after me?" she asked.
Gavin nodded. "Sure…why not? You're my best friend."
He was completely surprised by the fierce hug he got in return.
"Khorosho," said best friend muttered.
Over in another bedroom, light cruiser Tenryu slowly came awake. She stretched like a cat as she turned over and smiled upon seeing her fiancé still dead to the world. Deciding that since she was awake and therefore he should be too, she snuggled up against him, molding her body to his and nuzzling his neck.
"Eddie…" she purred. "Wake up…"
Blaskewicz groaned sleepily. "Mmm…five more minutes, 'k, Mom? I don't wanna go feed the chickens. It's cold outside."
Tenryu snorted into his neck and giggled. That reaction got the Supply Officer to awaken; he grinned upon realizing where he was and that not only did he not have to get up and feed chickens, but that there was a gorgeous, scantily-clad young woman cuddled up against him.
"Morning, babe," he wrapped his arms around Tenryu and kissed her deeply.
"Mmm…it is now," the light cruiser grinned.
"Sleep well?" Blaskewicz asked, and his fiancée nodded. "Like a rock."
Tenryu glanced over at the calendar tacked to the wall and sighed before hiding her face in Blaskewicz's chest. "We really need to get cracking on wedding plans," she murmured. "I don't wanna be engaged forever…I want to be married."
"We gotta pick a date first, Ten," Blaskewicz replied. "Besides, the food's going to be easy to pick…the shipgirls on base'll eat anything; we just gotta decide how much to get."
Tenryu giggled, knowing what he said was completely true.
"And as for picking a date, why don't we do like Mancini and Ashigara did and take a page from the Admiral and Kongo's plans?" Blaskewicz offered.
"What do you mean?" Tenryu pulled her head up to look him in the eye.
"Well, the Admiral and Kongo are getting married on November 21st, right? That's the day Kongo was sunk," Blaskewicz stated, and Tenryu nodded.
"Yeah, so?"
"Well, Mancini and Ashigara picked June 8th of next year as the date for their wedding," Blaskewicz informed her. "You know what happened on that day in 1945." When Tenryu nodded he continued. "If you're amenable, why don't we do the same thing?"
"Huh?" Tenryu's sleep-fogged brain was still in start-up mode and therefore couldn't make the connection to what Blaskewicz was saying. The Supply Officer grinned.
"Let's have our wedding on December 19th."
Tenryu didn't want to admit to herself how incredibly sweet she thought Blaskewicz's idea was, so she decided to show him instead by kissing the living daylights out of him, separating only when both of them were forced to breathe in order to keep from passing out.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Blaskewicz responded, causing the light cruiser to giggle and nod.
Destroyer Minazuki was bored. Harder-kun wasn't up yet, and Natori-chan had gone out shopping with Nagara-chan, so she and the rest of DesDiv 22 had been temporarily left to their own devices. Natori hadn't been too worried about doing so; her four destroyers were fairly level-headed girls that didn't get into much mischief, so she felt like she could leave them alone for a few hours.
However, Minazuki's list of solutions to her boredom didn't include wandering into the summoning chamber to see what Professor Tanabe was doing. Yet, here she and DesDiv 22 were, watching every move the Professor made. To his credit, the Professor didn't seem to mind; he was going about his business and answering any questions the four destroyers posed to him, but Minazuki could see that he was probably going to start summoning soon, so they'd better get ready to move on.
"Girls," Professor Tanabe stated, "I'll be right back…I need to use the restroom. Please don't touch anything, ok?
DesDiv 22 nodded.
At that moment, however, the building's air conditioner came on. It caught one of Hoppo-chan's hairs that had stuck to Satsuki's jacket the previous evening when the little Abyssal had given the destroyer a hug. Unnoticed, the strand of hair coasted around the room on the gust of air…and right into the summoning portal.
No sooner had Tanabe left the room than the summoning portal began crackling.
"What did you guys touch?!" Satsuki glanced frantically between her sister ships.
"N-Nothing, Sacchin!" Fumizuki stuttered.
"Same here!" Nagatsuki replied.
Minazuki merely held her hands up and shook her head to show she too wasn't to blame for what the machine was doing.
The machine sparked and crackled some more before a girl fell through the portal, causing DesDiv 22 to gasp. She had porcelain skin and white hair to match, and DesDiv 22 recognized what she was almost immediately: an Abyssal Re-class aviation battleship.
"Sh-She's…" Nagatsuki trailed off, stunned.
"H-How…?" Fumizuki stuttered.
"Uh-oh…" Satsuki muttered, certain they were going to get blamed for this.
Suddenly, the girl moaned and sat up. Amethyst-colored eyes blinked open with a blue flash, and the mid-thigh length leather greatcoat and black-and-white vertical striped scarf she wore shifted as she changed positions. Her eyes landed on the now-terrified DesDiv 22, but instead of attacking, she smiled widely, particularly when she laid eyes on Satsuki.
The four destroyers whimpered, knowing they had virtually no chance against such a powerful opponent, especially at such close range.
"Ma…ma?" the battleship asked, looking at Satsuki.
Of all the things the destroyers expected her to say, that definitely was not one of them.
"HUH?!" Satsuki gaped. Her sister ships could only blink in astonishment.
"What's your name?" Fumizuki asked, figuring that if they weren't going to be attacked, they could at least try to be friendly.
The Abyssal blinked. "I am…Re?" she responded questioningly.
"That's your class," Nagatsuki responded. "What's your name?"
"No, no…" Satsuki cut her off, "She can be called Re-chan if she wants…I think Re's a pretty name." She went over to the Abyssal and knelt down. "I'm Satsuki. These are my sister ships Nagatsuki, Fumizuki, and Minazuki."
"Suki-chan," Re stated, before grabbing Satsuki and hugging her tightly.
"GLACK!" the little destroyer gasped for air before being released once Re-chan realized her new friend was having trouble breathing.
"I'm sorry, Suki-chan," she murmured. "I don't know my own strength."
"That's kinda scary when you realize she's a battleship," Nagatsuki muttered. "What're we gonna do with her? The Admiral finds out an Abyssal was summoned, he's gonna go postal."
"He doesn't have to find out about her," Satsuki stated. "Come on…let's get her back to the dorm."
Minazuki grinned excitedly. Now she had a reason to wake up Harder-kun!
"I know someone who can help us!" she informed her sisters. "I'll run and get them!"
"Good idea, Mina-chan," Satsuki stated. "Fumi-chan, go with her. Naga-chan and I'll get Re-chan back to the dorm."
"Right! Come on, Fumi-chan!" Minazuki took off, Fumizuki following behind her. Satsuki and Nagatsuki ushered Re-chan out of the building soon after.
No sooner had they departed with the accidental summons than Professor Tanabe came back from the restroom. He glanced around the room, surprised at finding it empty, then shrugged. Time to get to work…there was summoning to be done.
Harder was in that twilight space between sleep and full wakefulness when he was rudely jarred back to consciousness by a pounding on his door.
"Huh? Whassamatta?" he murmured incoherently, before realizing someone was pounding on his door. He sat up with a groan. "Hang on!" he called. "I'll be there in a sec!"
He swung his legs over the side of his bunk and staggered to the door before opening it. "What's wrong?"
Silence greeted him. The submarine blinked and forced his eyes open to find two Japanese destroyer girls staring at him in shock.
Minazuki had been excited that she was going to spend more time with Harder-kun. However, when he opened his door all thoughts of spending the day with him vanished and were replaced with – to her embarrassment – thoughts of her telling Fumi-chan to go on without her and then inviting herself to spend the rest of the day alone with her friend, whom she was now seeing in a very different light.
She was pleased to see her Harder-kun had a very physically-fit body with several tattoos on it: the number '257' was on both his upper arms in white, while his wartime 'score' was tattooed on the left side of his ribcage. The fanciest tattoo was on the right side of his ribcage: a silver oak leaf entwined in the blue neck ribbon of a Congressional Medal of Honor, with the name 'S. D. Dealy' inscribed on the oak leaf in navy blue. In addition, the phrase 'Hit 'em Harder!' was written in quotations above the oak leaf and the dates '02-12-1942 – 24-08-1944' were written in navy gold on the blue neck ribbon.
Minazuki blushed as thoughts of tracing the lines of the fancy tattoo with her tongue flashed through her mind. She glanced at her sister ship and saw that Fumi-chan didn't mind what she was seeing, either. She forced herself not to show jealousy.
"Hey…you guys okay?" Harder asked the two daydreaming destroyers. At the sound of his voice, Minazuki shook herself from her daze and smiled excitedly at the submarine.
"Harder-kun! We need your help! Oh," she blushed, realizing her sister was still standing beside her and had not been properly introduced, "this is my sister Fumizuki."
"Nice save," Fumizuki muttered, smirking. While she definitely appreciated the sight of the shirtless submarine, she could see by her sister ship's reaction that he'd been claimed. And Mina-chan definitely had history with him; this was the sub that had sunk her back in 1944.
"Nice to meet you," Harder scratched his chest groggily. "Guess I should get some clothes on, huh?" he smirked when he noticed both destroyers' eyes following the movements of his hand.
His question once more jarred the destroyers out of Happy-Shirtless-Submarine Land and back into reality, causing both of them to blush violently.
"Harder-kun!" Minazuki whined, flustered.
"Sorry, Mina," the submarine used his nickname for her, "couldn't resist." He walked into the small bathroom attached to his quarters and began getting ready for the day. "You said you needed my help?"
Minazuki nodded and began to explain the situation.
"So basically some girl was summoned that wasn't supposed to be, and you girls snuck her out of the summoning chamber and to your dorms to hide her from the Admiral to save him a shit-ton of stress?" Harder asked as he, Minazuki, and Fumizuki made their way down the hall of the destroyer dorm to DesDiv 22's room.
"Yep!" Minazuki smiled.
Harder thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Meh…at least your hearts were in the right place."
The two destroyers – Minazuki especially – seemed to preen under the submarine's approval as they reached their dorm and opened the door. Satsuki, Nagatsuki, and Re-chan – who was raptly watching SpongeBob on the small television DesDiv 22 had in their room – looked up as they entered.
Harder took one look in the room and his eyes widened.
"Holy dive planes, Batman!" he gaped. "That's an Abyssal!"
"An Abyssal?! Where?!" Re sprang to her feet. "Let me at her…I will wipe her stain from this earth with all of my power!"
"She's joking, right?" Harder looked at the destroyers.
"Unfortunately, no," Satsuki responded before telling Re, "It's all right, Re-chan…calm down."
To Harder's surprise, the Abyssal immediately calmed and went back to watching SpongeBob.
"All right, so you guys got her out of the summoning chamber and to your dorm," he stated. "What's your plan for when your squadron flagship comes in and sees her? I don't think she's gonna welcome her with open arms."
The four members of DesDiv 22 glanced uncertainly at each other. What Harder was saying was completely true, but they didn't really want to admit it. Still, they wanted to give Re-chan a chance. Before any of them could reply, however, there was a knock at the door.
"Girls?" Natori's voice was heard on the other side of the door as the knob turned, causing the four destroyers to look at each other in fright. "I'm back…"
The door opened to reveal DesDiv 22's Nagara-class light cruiser mom-boat. The scene Natori beheld was one she was definitely not expecting: her four charges sitting there with an American submarine…one which, incidentally, sank one of them in the war.
But it was the individual sitting on the floor staring at the television and giggling that grabbed her attention almost immediately. Natori's jaw dropped when the girl turned, saw her looking at her, and smiled and waved before returning her attention to the television.
Natori's shriek would've been heard throughout the naval base if Harder hadn't jumped up and clapped his hand over her mouth.
"No, no…it's okay, see? She's not harming anybody…she's more interested in SpongeBob."
"B-B-But…how?!" the light cruiser asked after Harder removed his hand from over her mouth. "And why did you girls have to be the ones to find her?!"
"We were kinda in the summoning chamber when she came out," Nagatsuki stated.
"Yeah, and when she came to she saw Sacchin and called her 'Mama'," Fumizuki put in.
"I-I need to sit down," Natori whimpered, collapsing into one of the nearby desk chairs. She clapped a hand to her forehead. "What are we gonna do about this?" she murmured to herself. "The Admiral finds out my girls are aiding and abetting the enemy, we'll all go down!" It was then she appeared to realize an American submarine was in the room as well. "And what about you?" she asked. "How'd you get involved in this?"
"Minazuki and Fumizuki pounded on my door, woke me up, and said they needed my help," Harder replied. "I went with them, saw Re for myself, had my own minor freak-out, and then realized she's no threat. I was trying to help them figure out a way to hide her when you showed up."
"I –" Natori seemed to be at a loss for words.
Before anyone could say anything, the door opened again, causing everyone in the room – save Re, who continued to be completely engrossed in her cartoons – to freeze in their tracks.
"Hey sis, I'm headed down to the track for a couple hours –" Nagara began as she opened the door, but cut herself off upon seeing the girl watching the television. Her eyes widened in terror.
"Aw, crap," Harder muttered, knowing what was coming.
Nagara screamed at the top of her lungs, causing Re to turn her attention from the television.
"Silence, please," she requested. "The Great Yellow Sponge is speaking. I must hear his wisdom."
That statement stopped Nagara in her tracks. "'The Great Yellow Sponge'?" she blinked in surprise before glancing at the television screen. When she saw what was playing she turned and looked at Harder and the others as if to say, 'Seriously?'
"I know…we can't explain it, either," Harder replied.
"It makes her happy, so we just go with it," Satsuki stated.
"Huh…" Nagara trailed off, this information apparently failing to compute in her brain.
Minazuki was about to say something to break the silence when she noticed movement out the window. She looked down at the ground below and gasped upon seeing Nagato headed in the direction of their dorm.
"Uh-oh…" she trailed off.
"What is it?" Harder glanced over at her upon hearing her.
"We've got company inbound…Nagato-san's headed this way! She must've heard Nagara-san shriek!"
The two light cruisers looked at each other in terror. The Secretary Ship seeing an Abyssal in their rooms would not be good. They promptly began to hyperventilate, Minazuki and Fumizuki joining them, while Nagatsuki and Satsuki sat stoically, awaiting their fate.
Harder sighed; it looked like he'd have to be the one to save the day.
"All right, everybody just stop!" The submarine ordered, causing silence to reign; even Re turned to look at him. "Not you, Re…you can continue watching The Great Yellow Sponge."
The Abyssal smiled and turned back to the television with a squeak of approval. Harder turned to the other six shipgirls in the room. "Ok, here's how this is gonna go: Mina, make two bowls of microwave popcorn and toss some of that seasoning you like with 'em. Make one bowl for Re and the other for the rest of us. Fumi, Naga, and Sacchin, sit down and watch Yellow Sponge with Re. You two," he addressed the pair of whimpering light cruisers, "take a swig or two of this and calm down." He pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels from his stores and handed it to Nagara, who immediately took a large gulp from the bottle before handing it to her sister.
Five minutes later, when Nagato knocked on the door, Fumizuki answered it.
"N-Nagato-san…welcome," she murmured nervously, stepping back to allow the battleship entry.
Nagato forced herself to ignore how adorable the destroyer was and scanned the room. She'd been walking near the dorm when she'd heard a shriek, and by asking around had been able to determine it had come from this room. Now she just had to determine who'd uttered it in the first place.
Her eyes scanned the room. Nagatsuki, Fumizuki, and Satsuki were munching away on a bowl of popcorn. One of the American submarines was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, and Minazuki's head resting in his lap. He was idly running his fingers through her hair, and it appeared it was putting the destroyer to sleep, for she was cuddling closer and closer to the submarine. The submarine glanced up at the battleship and gave her a friendly smile as though nothing was wrong.
Naga-mon reared her head at the touching scene, but Nagato forced her to remain silent and continued her appraisal of the room. Nagara was falling asleep in a desk chair, an Abyssal was sitting in front of the television contentedly watching SpongeBob and eating out of another bowl of popcorn, and Natori was curled in a ball on the lowest bunk, also nearly asleep.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary here; perhaps she had the wrong room…
Wait.
Let's run through that again, her mind informed her. Nagato didn't see any harm in that.
Two light cruisers, both nearly asleep. Aside from the fact one was Nagara, who was usually on the track in her spare time, nothing was wrong there. Three destroyers eating popcorn, nothing wrong there, either; destroyers usually snacked throughout the day. A fourth destroyer cuddling with a submarine…odd, but nothing abnormal. So that left…
Right.
The Abyssal watching cartoons and eating popcorn. The battleship turned her gaze on said individual, but as she did so, Re glanced over at her and smiled up at her with child-like innocence.
"I'm watching the Great Yellow Sponge…popcorn?" she held out her bowl to Nagato.
That was the last thing Nagato remembered before blackness fell.
"S-So…c-cute…"
Avers glowered at the people assembled in his office. Saturday and Sunday were his days off, and he was none too pleased at having been called in on one of those days. Neither was Kongo, who was sitting on the couch in his office, drawing sketches for her wedding dress (bordered by numerous hearts and lovey-signs, all of which had 'Kongo + Teitoku' written on or around them).
"I don't have words for this one," the Admiral addressed the group as a whole before turning to Professor Tanabe, who looked like he desperately wanted to be someplace else right then…like Bermuda.
"How?" the Admiral asked. "How in the world did that machine of yours bring back an Abyssal?"
"I-I-I don't know," Tanabe replied nervously. "I wasn't even aware one had been brought back until I was called to your office."
Avers sighed. At least there'd been no trouble whatsoever out of the latest unexpected arrival; DesDiv 22 and Harder had taken her to Hosho's restaurant where Re had been overjoyed to see Darwin and Hoppo. Hosho, of course, had immediately offered to take the new girl in, and Re seemed to have no problem accepting this. Neither did Satsuki, who appeared glad to relinquish the reins of motherhood to the older light carrier.
He turned to Nagara and Natori. "Re appears to be happy with Hosho and her girls?"
The two light cruisers nodded.
"Neither of you see her causing problems or going berserk and trying to kill us all in our sleep?"
Nagara and Natori responded in the negative. Avers nodded.
"Then I'll consider the situation closed." He turned to Tanabe. "Professor, for the love of all that is holy, please don't let something like this happen again. And try summoning some smaller ships for a while, will you?"
Oyodo whimpered from the corner and hunched over her radio set. Niyodo rubbed her back and murmured comfortingly to her.
"I'll try, sir…would a cruiser or two be all right?" Tanabe asked.
Avers considered it for a moment, then nodded. "I don't see a problem with that."
Tanabe thanked the Admiral and hurriedly took his leave.
"Now," Avers rose to his feet and motioned for everyone to head to the door, "if you all will excuse me, it's the weekend and my beautiful fiancée and I have a wedding to plan."
"Dess!" came the statement from the nearby couch.
While Avers and Kongo were getting back to planning their special day, in another part of the naval base a very different style of planning was going on.
"Okie, I don't think I wanna do this…" destroyer Shaw trailed off uncertainly. Her division mates Cassin and Downes nodded in agreement as they sat in one of the rooms in the battleship dorm.
"Don't the three of you even think of backing out of this!" battleship Oklahoma growled. "All four of us were there that morning…all four of us died that morning –"
"Actually, the three of us were only severely injured," Downes raised a finger to make a point. "We were all rebuilt and served in the war."
"Yeah, and Ari and Vestal were there that morning, too," Cassin put in. "You don't see them going around planning revenge."
"That's irrelevant!" the battleship snarled. "What is relevant is the fact that those of us who were there that morning in Hawaii are now expected to play nice with the very ships that murdered us in cold blood! And then I find out we've got a murderer who's flying our very own colors!"
"Huh?" the three destroyers started in surprise. They'd grown somewhat immune to Oklahoma's talk of revenge for Pearl Harbor, but to hear that one of their own was a murderer was not something they'd expected to hear at all.
"Who?" Cassin demanded.
"Look!" Oklahoma thrust a sheet of paper towards them.
The destroyers glanced at it to find part of a Wikipedia entry, with one sentence highlighted:
After she was thoroughly examined, Iowa and two other vessels used Nevada as a practice gunnery target on 31 July 1948.
"She executed my sister," Oklahoma choked out, "and I'm going to make sure she pays."
"But she didn't sink her," Shaw pointed out. "Look at the next sentence."
The ships did not sink Nevada, so she was given a coup de grâce with an aerial torpedo hit amidships.
Oklahoma shrugged. "That plane was the mercy shot…after that trio did the dirty work." An extremely dark look came over her face. "There were three of them that day…Iowa, a heavy cruiser, and a destroyer. Naval Vessel Registry doesn't list the names of the cruiser and the destroyer, but if I ever find out who they were, they won't live long enough to regret it."
The three destroyers quivered in fear, glad they weren't the ships Okie was referring to.
"Here's the plan," Oklahoma stated. "We're going to launch an attack on the carrier dorms…surprise them while they sleep, just like they did us." She grinned maliciously. "And when Iowa comes to stop us…" she trailed off with a laugh and flexed her fingers, "payback time."
"Wh-What about the other ships in the Japanese task force?" Downes asked. "The surface warships and the submarines."
"They never fired shots at us…they were too far away," Oklahoma replied. "For that reason alone they're being spared. Well," she amended, "that and some of the submarines haven't been summoned yet, and the oilers weren't even with the main force, but that's semantics." She waved her hand in dismissal.
Cassin, Shaw, and Downes looked at each other uncertainly. They didn't know what to say…this was planning an ambush on one of their own. Iowa was a nice girl; there was probably more to this thing with Nevada than they were being told. And the Japanese carriers that Okie was talking about blasting in their beds had always been kind to them, especially Akagi, who almost always had a head-pat for each of them. Shokaku was just as sweet, and Soryu, Hiryu, and Zuikaku were like older sisters. Kaga wasn't as free with displaying her emotions, but she had an aura about her that made any destroyer want to earn her approval.
The trio was broken out of their thoughts by Oklahoma's voice.
"Tomorrow is Sunday," she grinned. "What better day for revenge?" The battleship giggled to herself, seeing in her mind all her plans coming together. She then shook herself from her reverie and turned to the three destroyers in front of her. "Meet me near the carrier dorms tomorrow at 0645…we attack at 0715. Go on," she waved them out of her room. "Get some rest for tomorrow…it's gonna be a blast." She giggled at her unintentional pun as the destroyers walked out.
Once they were outside, Cassin exhaled in relief.
"Okie's got problems," she sighed.
"Yup," Downes agreed. "Big problems."
"The sad thing is we can't even relate to where she's coming from," Shaw replied. "We're destroyers…we've got so many sister ships we don't know what it's like being that close to just one person."
"Did you get it?" Cassin asked Shaw, who nodded and held up her cell phone.
"Every word…let's go see Ari."
Avers and Kongo were snuggling on the couch under a thick blanket Kongo had bought during their trip to the U.S. when a knock at the door interrupted their cuddle-time. Avers groaned; he'd just gotten comfy after changing out of his uniform and back into a t-shirt and pajama bottoms. When Kongo made to get up and answer the door, the Admiral whined and held her tighter, causing the fast battleship to giggle.
"We can't be rude to guests, Teitoku-des," she lightly admonished Avers, untangling herself from her Admiral's embrace and rising to her feet; Avers laughed when she exaggerated the movement of her hips when she caught him blatantly admiring her body clad in a sports bra and cotton shorts.
The Admiral sat up and rubbed his hands over his face; cuddle-time was apparently over for now, judging by the urgent tones of the voices at the door. As he got to his feet, the voices grew louder and soon Kongo was leading Arizona, Iowa, and three American destroyers into the living room. Avers could tell this was quite serious; the destroyers looked like they didn't know what to do, and were being comforted by Kongo; Arizona looked quite grim, and Iowa looked devastated.
"What happened?" Avers asked.
Arizona handed him a cellphone. "Listen to the selected audio track, Admiral," she requested.
Ten minutes later, Avers rubbed his hand over his face again, this time in exhaustion. He could scarcely believe what he'd heard.
"I knew something wasn't right the first time I met her after she was summoned," he stated. "But this…" he shook his head.
"Could she be possessed by an Abyssal, Dess?" Kongo put in.
"I don't think so," Avers replied. "If she was, she'd want to kill everyone on this base, not just certain shipgirls. No, the only thing she's obsessed with is getting revenge on the six carriers who attacked Pearl Harbor and the ship she believes killed her sister."
Iowa whimpered and finally spoke, her voice choked with emotion. "But Nevada wasn't there that day! Only her ship form was…she died when the first bomb went off at Bikini!" Tears spilled down the fast battleship's cheeks. "Had she still been alive I wouldn't have fired a shot…none of us would've!"
The three destroyers leapt up and hugged her as she broke down, and Kongo leaned over to rub her back soothingly.
Avers sighed. "I need to get in touch with Professor Tanabe…I've got an idea how we can fix this; might as well try and see if it works. It seems to be the only chance we've got of nullifying Okie's lust for revenge. Outside of actual combat, that is," he muttered the last part, then cursed inwardly when Iowa whimpered pitifully, causing Kongo and the destroyers to renew their comfort efforts.
The Admiral turned to Arizona. "I don't have to ask, but I wanted to make sure you're all right with this."
Arizona smiled. "Thank you for the consideration, sir, but I have no problems with it. It'd be nice to have another member of the Pacific Fleet here."
Summoning a ship required work. Summoning a specific ship was like trying to locate a needle in a haystack. Avers watched throughout the afternoon, evening, and night as Tanabe summoned shipgirls left and right…Dutch destroyer Kortenaer and light cruisers Java, Tromp, and De Ruyter, Canadian light cruisers Ontario and Quebec and destroyer Haida, German submarine U-123 – who appeared to have no idea why she'd been summoned – and American submarines Argonaut and Nautilus…the list went on and on.
But none of the summons was the girl they were so earnestly hoping for.
Tanabe had just ushered four American cruisers – heavy cruisers Portland and San Francisco and anti-aircraft cruisers Atlanta and Juneau – off with Enterprise and Hornet when Avers glanced over from the computer he'd been working at. The Japanese scientist met his eyes and smiled tiredly.
"I'm sorry, sir. I had hopes, but…" he trailed off.
Avers nodded. "I've got one more thing I want to try, and we're going to keep this up until morning."
Tanabe nodded uncertainly. Arizona looked over at the screen of Avers' computer and grinned.
"Damn…that just might work…" she murmured tiredly.
Oklahoma's alarm went off at 0615 the following morning. She eagerly threw herself out of bed and showered quickly before dressing in her chosen outfit for that day: full dress blue uniform with all her ribbons, her gold Captain's stripes on full display. It was Payback Day; naturally she needed to look her best.
Once she was dressed, she took a last look around the room and sighed. She seriously doubted she would ever come back here, so she'd packed what few belongings she had the night before. They rested in a box at the foot of her bed. She didn't see any harm in granting her enemies the miniscule favor of packing up her quarters…not like she was providing intelligence or anything.
The battleship stepped outside the dorm and breathed in the frigid winter air. It was a clear morning; only a few puffy clouds in sight in the gradually-lightening November sky. How like that morning in 1941, she mused before glancing down at her wristwatch: 0632. Only thirteen minutes before she had to meet the destroyers. Better hurry, she thought, setting off at a brisk walk. Even so, she took a moment as she walked to enjoy the beautiful sight of the frost on everything. She might be hell-bent on revenge, but she did like winter, and Christmas was just around the corner…a shame that when Christmas arrived this year she would be either dead or locked up in whatever passed for a brig on this base.
The carrier dorm was now in sight. She took another brief glance at her watch: 0641. Good…she liked being punctual. Then she noticed there was no one else around and huffed impatiently. Apparently punctuality means nothing to destroyers…four minutes to go and they're nowhere in sight. Gaahh! But then she told herself to remain calm; she hadn't planned to start the attack for another half-hour, so she could probably cut the destroyers a little slack…them being cute definitely worked to their advantage. And they're probably all piled together in one little puddle…stop it! This was not the time to think of things that made one want to squee with joy, this was war.
By 0705, Oklahoma was forced to accept the fact that the destroyers probably weren't coming. While she was upset at being forced to go it alone, she conceded that it hadn't been right to put such a heavy burden on them. I'll just get enough revenge for all of us combined, she thought, nodding to herself in satisfaction.
At 0710, she summoned her combat rig and lovingly stroked the ten 14-inch guns that appeared before stepping from her hiding place and getting into optimum firing position, having scouted the area the previous afternoon. She'd had to use the guise of pretending to have taken up photography as a hobby – claiming to be figuring out the best light possible for the perfect shot had made her feel like a complete idiot – but it had gotten the job done. Now all was ready.
"I wasn't there, you know."
Oklahoma froze. That voice…she gasped inwardly. It-it sounds…it sounds like…no! It can't be! It's my conscience playing tricks on me…it has to be! She inwardly cursed herself as she turned to look anyways.
And her heart promptly skipped a beat.
A shipgirl emerged from the shadows of one of the nearby trees. She wore red high-heeled shoes, black thigh-highs, a royal blue skirt that came down to mid-thigh, a small matching corset, and a white sleeveless blouse with a navy blue tie. Twin gun belts wrapped around her waist, and a calf-length black cape was draped around her shoulders. Her waist-length blonde hair was in twin ponytails, and her sapphire eyes were firmly fixed on the other battleship. She carried a long-barreled Colt-45 in each hand, and her combat rig sported two gun turrets on each side, twins over triples.
She looked just like Oklahoma remembered her, but what sealed the deal was the number '36' on her skirt.
"Wh-What?" Oklahoma stuttered, almost unwilling to believe what she was seeing.
"That day in 1948…I wasn't there," the blonde repeated, walking up to Oklahoma. "The last thing I remember of my previous life was sitting in some tropical lagoon with Pennsy, Swayback, Sara, and some other ships. I was dressed in," she shuddered, "this absolutely horrific red-orange outfit – God, I swear I'll never wear that color again as long as I live – and then I heard this countdown and there was this blinding light. The next thing I know, I'm standing in a room with some weird machine behind me, and this American dressed in a Japanese Navy uniform – that took me a few minutes to get used to, I don't mind telling you! – and Ari are standing there grinning like idiots before they welcome me back and then play this audio tape on this little wafer-thin black thingamajig, whereupon I hear my beloved sister state she wants to not only get revenge for something that happened seventy-five years ago, but that she wants to kill a fellow American battleship for something she didn't even do." She shook her head and reached out, grasping Oklahoma's hand in hers. "That's not the sweet, kind sister I remember."
Oklahoma gasped at feeling how warm and solid the girl's hands were. This wasn't some mirage she was seeing…she really was here!
"B-But…" Oklahoma was at loss for words. The blonde squeezed Oklahoma's hand tightly.
"I wasn't there, Okie," she murmured, before smiling warmly. "But I'm here now."
That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Oklahoma let out an agonized wail and collapsed into the blonde's arms, murmuring "I'm sorry" in between great shuddering, gasping sobs.
U.S.S. Nevada, BB-36, hugged her sister and let her cry herself out. She knew Okie needed this, and they had all the time in the world to catch up.
Some distance away, a nearly-asleep-on-his-feet Avers watched the two battleships reunite.
"We did it, sir," Arizona responded, smiling at the scene. Iowa, standing nearby, wiped away a tear as she watched.
"Yep," Avers murmured, his speech slurred slightly due to exhaustion. "And all it took was nearly twelve hours of calling for help into the machine and approximately 133 back-to-back renditions of Home Is Nevada to make it happen. No offense to the people from that great state or to the battleship who bears its name, but I never want to hear that song again."
Movement out of the corner of his eye brought his attention back to the two battleships that were now making their way over to them. Okie's hysterics started all over again the second she laid eyes on Iowa; the battleship launched herself at Iowa and she proceeded to start bawling and apologizing once more. Avers, figuring that Arizona could handle the situation, bid the battleships a good morning and then headed back to his quarters to crash for a few hours.
Twenty minutes later, he was sliding into his bed, and five seconds after that his arms were full of a sleepy fast battleship clad in nothing more than a black silk Victoria's Secret tank top and panty set.
"Teitoku-des?" Kongo murmured sleepily, nuzzling Avers' neck.
"Go back to sleep, sweetheart…it worked," Avers replied. "No shots were fired and Okie has her sister now."
Kongo let out a soft mew of approval and snuggled closer. "Sleep now, sex later, Teitoku-des," she murmured, kissing his cheek before lapsing back into sleep.
Avers smiled before following her into dreamland; he had no problem with that plan.
TRANSLATIONS
1) No...absolutely not. I am not dealing with this!
I know there was supposed to be a wedding in this chapter, but I decided to cut it off there. That just means you guys get more chapters before we mark this as 'complete'.
Also, the DesDiv 45 plumbing scene was inspired by a hilarious scene from an episode of a 1980s American sitcom. PM me if you have any idea what show it is. :)
UP NEXT: A dream is realized for one shipgirl, and another gets her long-awaited 'special day'...
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