"Sir, Hickam airfield is reporting a flight of four F-22's and a pair of P-8's waiting on the tarmac." One of Enfield's aids tell him as he stared at a map of Pearl Harbor. "They're trying to get more aircraft available, but between wear, tear, and pilot fatigue. they're not promising anything else before those things reach the harbor entrance."

Enfield shook his head. "Tell them to start stowing the non-ready aircraft the best they can. A couple more bombs and ASW torpedoes won't be worth risking our entire air element because their ordinance and fuel wasn't secured. We'll make do with what's ready to go at this moment. Any word from San Diego?"

The aid shook his head. "Even if they had bombers in the air right now, they'd never make it here before the Battleships started their attack."

"Sir," another aid all but shouted as he came running over the admiral. "The airport shore battery is reporting an issue with the railgun generator. They're working to fix the problem but-"

"No guarantees that it'll be functional before the battleships get here…" Enfield finished, knocking his hand against the table in frustration. "What's South Carolina's location?"

"Blue Force tracker still has her in the harbor sir." Another aid replied. "Looks like she's over by the Arizona memorial." The sailor took a long breath before continuing. "Sir, you need to pull her back in here. The Fuso class was better than her in every way imaginable, and if she goes out there they'll sink her within minutes."

"She's also the only weapon we have capable of killing either of those two things right now unless the gremlins in that railgun decide to give us a break. Everything outside this bunker we're in won't survive having two battleships blasting at it at point blank range, and if these two act like every other abyssal force that has made a run at a harbor, we know that's exactly what they will do. If we can't stop them here…" He said, pointing to where the harbor entrance opened into the harbor proper before splitting around Ford Island. "They have complete run…"

"What is it sir?" One of the aids asked as the admiral went silent.

"Call South Carolina back in here and tell every battery that can pre-aim at the mouth of the harbor to begin dialing in on this grid coordinate here. I think I have a way to make these bastards pay for trying to kick in our front door."

By the time the rest of the preparations had been started South Carolina had walked back into the Command Center, her footfalls announcing her presence long before anyone laid eyes on her. Without a word she stormed towards the admiral, her body seeming to radiate anger as she approached him.

"Admiral." She began, her voice dripping with contempt. "If you expect me to hide in here like a coward as my daughters resting place is burnt to the ground…"

"I don't…" Enfield replied, cutting her off. "But I also know those things will cut you down well before you ever stand a chance of landing a hit, let alone sinking one of those things. I also know we have neither the forces to support you, or defenses in place to repel those battleships once they're done cutting you down. What we do have though, is a harbor entrance that makes a perfect ambush spot right here…" He said, pointing to a spot on the map. "Here, we'll be able to support you with shore based artillery, and at that close range your 12/45's will be able to punch clean through their armor."

"So how long do we have before they get here?" South asked, her eyes scanning the map as she did so.

"Three hours, give or take." Enfield. "Though we're going to see what we can do to slow them down."

-

Fuso and Yamashiro heard the jets long before their lookouts spotted the black streaks heading towards them. "Yamashiro, are you hearing that as well?"

"Yes big sister, I believe I do. I am not sure what it i- oh my!" Yamashiro's lookouts saw the incoming units first. "They are moving very fast."

"They really have invented propeller-less aircraft. Jets, Miss Midway called them?"

The two battleships watched as the F-22's nosed over into a shallow sixty degree dive. Their intent recognized, the call to action stations was given but their few antiaircraft gun crews were unable to ready their guns in time.

The sea around them churned with splashes of dozens of bombs as the fighters released their ordinance. Explosions rocked their superstructures and decks as bomb after bomb hit, smashing rangefinders, lighting fires and decimating personnel unfortunate enough to be caught topside or working in exposed positions.

Yamashiro's few surviving Type 96 guns fired into the air fruitlessly, their traverse too slow for the speeding jets. Wiping blood from her eyes, she looked towards her sister and gasped. "Big sister! Your hair!"

"It's, ow, ow, ow, all right Yamashiro." Fuso winced at the still smoldering flames on her back licking the ends of her long hair. "The bombs were very small." Yamashiro still looked at her sister with intense worry as her own damage control crews rushed to quell the flames on her clothing and rigging.

Before they could recover though, an even more thunderous noise filled the sky.

"Yamashiro! What is that!" Fuso covered her ears to try and deaden the reverberating roar.

"Are those... passenger planes?" Yamashiro pointed to both sides of her bow as the aircraft came into the view, hugging the ocean surface as they made a textbook hammer and anvil attack.

"A civilian plane doesn't fly like that!" Fuso angrily replied. "Shoot them!"

Black puffs of smoke sprinkled their flight paths as the battleships pitiful AA mounts put up what little defense they could. Either by luck or skill, one of their rounds struck a bomber's right engine. "Big sister! I hit it!" Yamashiro cheered as the smoking aircraft passed overhead.

There was little time for celebration though as the telltale streaks of torpedoes raced towards the two. Cranking their rudders as hard as they dared, the two attempted to weave through the spreads. Yamashiro cringed as one slammed into her hull, only to feel a tickle. "For such a big plane, they have small torped-BIG SISTER!" Watching a pair of geysers erupt from her older sister, the enraged younger Fuso could do little as the offending planes disappeared over the horizon.

"Big sister?" Yamashiro asked fearfully as the two slowed to give their damage control crews time to inspect their injuries.

"I am alright Yamashiro." Fuso reassured her as she wiped loose strands of singed hair out of her face. "Their ordinance did little in the way of important damage, though the loss of my rangefinders may prove problematic. Take heart though little sister. They threw hundreds of aircraft at Musashi to ensure her demise, now they only launch a handful of planes to merely wound us as we attempt to lay waste to their precious base. Even with their deaths at hand, the Americans still underestimate us" A wicked smile formed on her torn up face. "It is a mistake we won't give them a chance to make again."

-

South Carolina stood as still as a statue as she waited behind Hospital Point for the Fusos to walk into her range finders. She'd watched the fighters and patrol aircraft come into land after doing all they could to slow the demons down, grimacing as she heard the screeching metal of a damaged P-8 coming to a crashing rest on the runway. Now the job of stopping those… things was left to her and the artillery crews in the mountains.

"Command to South Carolina. The enemy battleships are entering the harbor entrance. Estimated position from you is two miles."

"Understood command." South Carolina replied. "Are the shore batteries ready to proceed?"

"Yes ma'am. Shore batteries will fire on your signal. Good hunting ma'am."

A serene calm washed over South Carolina as her crew counted down the seconds. She knew she wasn't going to survive this fight. Even with the help she had, there wasn't any chance she'd be able to take both battleships out before one of them could get a salvo off, and at this range her armor would as useless against their 14's as theirs was against her 12 inch guns.

But if she could take at least one down with her, maybe even both if she was lucky, or at least damage them enough that they'd be forced to stop there... If she could stop them from desecrating her daughters' home and their graves, it would be more than worth the cost she would pay.

"One mile and closing."

"All batteries, commence firing."

The thunder of over a dozen guns reached South's ears just as the first Fuso sailed obliviously into her sights. Catching sight of her out of the corner of its eye, the battleship pivoted as it tried to bring its guns to bare on her. The shocked look on the demon's face was the last thing South Carolina saw before the figure disappeared behind the smoke of her rifles and the geysers of exploding artillery shells.

Confident in the destruction her first salvo had brought, South calmly rotated her turrets, waiting for the next wounded battleship to walk into her sights as her crews reloaded her rifles. What she hadn't counted on though was the first demon to come screaming out of the chaos in front of her.

"S͟I͜͠Ǹ͟K ́́͞T̷O ̧THÈ͢ ͡B̶̵̢O͡T̨̡T̴̴͏O͜͠M̵!"

The battleship's front two turrets lay in ruins, their gun barrels twisted by the force of the explosions that had torn them apart. The demon's left arm hung loosely by her side, bloodied and mutilated almost beyond the point of recognition. A growing stain of oil stained the demon's torn open chest. Behind her came her sister, head and upper body torn by shrapnel from the army's guns. Almost as one, all eighteen of their surviving guns swiveled towards her as South frantically turned to minimize her profile to their barrels.

"B̷̡́U̢R̷̛N͜҉ ̡͞I̸͢N̨̢ ̴͘͝T͝͡H͢͝E ̷DÈ̷P̸̀͟T͏HS͏̛!"

The maneuver saved South from the worst of the fire, but she was far from unscathed. She felt her right arm lose all feeling as her rear battery was smashed to pieces and shells dug into the rigging on her back. Six inch shells dug into her skin, opening up gashes in her skin as the surviving guns of her own pitiful three inch battery plinked away at her attackers.

A hailstorm of splashes erupted between the three ships as South fled into the harbor, desperately trying to keep her mangled hull between the Fuso's and her daughter's memorial. Larger splashes arose amongst the pattering of the ships' secondary batteries as the bases artillery crews did what they could to help the old dreadnought out.

Less than a hundred feet from Arizona's final resting place, South felt herself shudder and her forward guns slammed back into the ready position. Pulling a hard turn to starboard, she swung her remaining guns around and laid her sights on the second Fuso, who had taken over as the lead ship in the formation from her wounded sister. This is where I'll make my stand. Her mind decided. If they were going to lay one finger on my daughter, it was only after I have shed every last drop of blood I have left.

The demon drifted out of control as South rounds tore through her superstructure and turrets, opening up ghastly wounds in her head and neck.

"C̴͜O̵L̵Ĺ̀͟A͠P̕S҉̢͝E̡͠!"

Her foe's remaining eye glared back with an almost lifeless milky gaze the abyssal fought to keep herself upright, the creatures' surviving turrets struggling to maintain a firing solution on her.

"B͢R̛͘EA̷̡͞K͢҉̀!"

For a second, South thought she could win the fight.

"F̶͢Ą̧L̸͢͠L͡!̀"

The thought was erased by the smoke of her enemies' next volley. The Arizona Memorial disintegrated behind her as a trio of shells found their mark. South collapsed to the surface of the water as her boiler rooms were ripped out and her hull buckled almost to the point of cracking in two.

"D̛͜͢I̡SĄ͟͜PPE̶҉̧À̵R ̶W҉̧͟I͏̨T̛͡H͝ Y͡Ǫ̡̕UR ̸F͘A͡͠M̕͝ĮL҉Y̶̕͟."

Coughing up blackish red blood, South felt the cold water of the harbor pulling at her body as she was sucked under.

"Y͝͡O͠U͡҉͏ ͘W̨̕I̸͞L̵͝L͜ ̀͞͏F̕͝AL̴Ĺ̕. ̕YǪ̡̧U̢ ̴̨W̶I͏L̢̀L̸ ͞B͝Ȩ ̷F̛́O͏͘͝R̡͝GÓ̀T͡T́E͢N͞ ̛҉L̷I̴KE ̨͜Ù͞S͘.̶̵ Y͏O̷̢U̕ ̨͘͠W̧I͟L̡͞L̀͢ ̷N̵͜EV̴̨EŖ̷ ̕G̛͜O̷̷̧ ̡͡B̵̷͏A̕͟͟Ç͘K.̕͢͠ ̧́N҉O͟͜B͟ǪD̛͟Y ̧͜W̵̨I͝L̴̸͡L̸̀́ ̴͠R̨̛ES͝͝C̡Ú͜͡E̸ ͞͝Y͜҉O͜U̧͜͟.̵"

One of the Fuso's, her semi-conscious mind no longer able to tell the two apart, sailed over to her triumphantly and planted one foot on her chest.

"Y͜͝O̶̢U̕R ͏DR̸̛͢E̕͢AM҉̢͜ ̸̢S͟H̛̕Ą͘L ̕҉B̷́͞U̵̕͟R̴̀͘Ń͜ L̴I̕͟K̷̨͡E̷̶ ̸͘͜T҉H̨͞E͏ ̛S̛̛U̸̶RFAC̢͠E̷͡ ̢̢W̸̴͜O͏͠҉Ŕ̶͞L҉D̸͢.̴͘͢ Y̛ǪÚ̧͢ ͢A͏̷R̴E͡ ̧HOPÈ͡҉LE̶S̶̀͜S̷ ̀̀͞L̴̷Ì͠K͏E̵͡ ̶͘̕U͏Ś͡.̶ ͠DE̡͜ŞP͘A̛IR̴ ̷̕LI̷͞K҉̡̕E̡ U̕͞S͜,̶̢͘"

One of the demon's turrets swiveled into position intent of finishing her off for good.

"ÝOUR ̶P̧̛̛ŖI̕͘DE ͘W͢I̸L͡L ̴B̢͘U̶͠RN ̶̀ḐO͢W҉͢N̴҉ ͢TO͢͞ ҉͟ŢH̨͞E͜ ̨̕F̴RĘEZ̴̨͞I͢͠N҉G ̢̀W̸A̷T̷̨͞E̕͘Ŗ.̶ T́͠H͜Ę̸ ͝A̢B͝Y͞SS͢ ̵̕͢Ą̷WÀ̶͘IT͠S ͏̀͟YO͜͜҉U̧̡ ́҉A̢͠N͟D̢͜ ͞Y̶O̶͟ŲR̛͞ ̧͠D͜A͘U̸G̷H̢TER̷̵S.̴"

SIǸK̴̀ ̸̷A̛̛ND ̶̛͘D̡͢ISA҉PP̶̴͞E̴̢̧A͝R̨ F̴͡O͜͢҉RÈ͡V̶Ȩ̶R

Forgive me Arizona.
South thought as she closed her eyes for what she thought would be the last time. I wasn't able to save you again.

She expected the end to come as the crack of a pair of rifles thundered over her, only to realize she was still alive. Through blood-covered eyes she watched as the Fuso was thrown off her, another figure taking its place. Rather than turn to finish her off, the figure stared her two attackers down as the other Fuso helped her sister to her feet.

"Don't worry mom." A voice shouted in a southwestern twang. "I'll take it from here. They want round two, after all."