Damon tosses Haruna and Amagi H&K-417 DMR's and Samidare and Suzukaze Magpul FMG-9's.

"You've downloaded those wireless torrents from the others," Damon yells as the ship girls hustle back into the Merlin, whose rotors are already halfway done spooling up for takeoff. "You should be able to know how to use these things."

"Er...what if we're still not sure?" Suzukaze asks, having to yell over the overbearing beating of the helicopter rotor blades.

"Learn along the way, now let's go!"

Damon climbs into the pilot's seat as the four newest ship girls enter the passenger hold.

"Such curious modern weapons," Amagi remarks, fascinated by sleek and cold steel that her new marksman rifle is made out of. "And this vehicle - is this vehicle truly capable of flight? I believed flight was only able to be performed by the birds and the machines known as planes."

"Times have changed, Amagi-san," Kaga says as they sit down next to Shoukaku. Mutsu slides the door shut after Samidare steps in and sits next to her ship sister along with the rest of the destroyer ship girls. Suzukaze is shaking with excitement at the prospect of flying for the first time, and everyone feels a bit of a shake as the Merlin lifts off the ground. "It seems that we have been reborn into an age of rapid technological advancement. The weapons we use and the vehicles we are transported in are proof of this."

"Well, that's the thing, humans're always tryin'a find new ways to get shit done," Damon calls from the pilot's seat, ascending the HC-3 Merlin's altitude to a suitable flying height. Sanford's Bell M-412 helicopter also lifts off, escorting the Merlin as it banks towards the Gulf of Mexico again en route back to Mobile. "It's only been, what, seventy years since the time y'all were first created. Now, seventy years's a long-ass time ta develop new shit, thanks ta Moore's Law." Haruna, Amagi, Suzukaze, and Samidare are eagerly looking out the windows behind them, watching the ground below become further and further away and soon give way to the orange-bluish waters of the sea. Shigure and Yuudachi, too, being new themselves, are also still addicted to watching the ground whizz past below them.

"Commander, what's Moore's Law?" Samidare asks. "That sounds really important."

"It's not, actually. Just an arbitrary law that says that the number 'a transistors in integrated circuits doubles every two years, but I always saw it as a concept 'a humans makin' technological progress at a rapid rate. Doesn't really mean anythin' other than bein' a convenient phrase." Damon pushes a button on the dashboard to open comms with Sanford. "Sanford, you sure you didn't know anythin' 'bout Harrison havin' plans ta acquire ship girls of his own?"

"I know nothin', dude. He never said anythin' even when we were holed up back in Atlanta. I mean, ya said it yerself that ya thought he was gonna buy 'em from the Atlantans, ain'tcha? Ya shoulda seen this comin'."

Damon clicks his tongue in annoyance; Sanford is right. He knew he couldn't trust old man Harrison, even if the faction of Mobile was courteous to him and even if Harrison came off as a nice guy, he really shouldn't've been surprised by this.

"I shoulda make it clear that all the ship girls're gonna be mine," Damon hisses in annoyance. "'N tell Harrison not to get in my fuckin' way."

"So then what if he's gonna insist on havin' a few 'a his own? What're ya gonna do?"

"Warn Harrison that he ain't gonna do shit. Any ship girl who's out there is mine, 'n I'll fight whoever for 'em."

"So in other words, yer gonna burn Mobile to the ground if ya have to, to stop Harrison from gettin' any ship girls."

Damon shakes his head. "No. If worst comes ta worst, I'll jus' probably kill Harrison, and even then I ain't willin' to do that. He feels like a genuinely nice guy to me still, a lot more fuckin' decent than, oh, let's say, 89.99% 'a the southern population 'a America right now.

"Oh yeah? Who's the other 10.01%?"

"The people in Savannah 'n the people in Mobile."

"Ouch, you're harsh."

"The South deserves it. They've basically fallen back ta how they were back in the Civil War days, fuckin' dickwads."

"U-Um...?" Shigure speaks up in her usual timid voice. "Admiral, what...what will we be doing now...?"

"Didn't I already brief you all before gettin' into the chopper? We're headin' back to Mobile, 'n I'ma pay this guy named Harrison who's in charge 'a the city a few questions regardin' you girls."

"But it's not like he's done anything wrong," Murakumo says in response. "Those guys could've been lying for all we know. They could have just used Mr. Harrison as a scapegoat and made you believe that just to get money out of you and get away."

"Yeaaaahhh...uh, no," Damon shuts down her argument without hesitation. "You ship girls are still a massive secret; most ordinary people don't know anythin' 'bout any 'a you. The fact that they knew, they ain't gonna jus' lie 'bout that. They coulda used any one outta a fuckin' million lies ta give me, and jus' mentionin' ship girls outta the blue, that ain't luck. They were tellin' the truth." He glances back at Murakumo. "And when yer family member's dyin', 'specially their mum, are ya gonna lie 'bout somethin' like that? And you're the one askin' me that, Murakumo? The one who complained that I shot a baby to put it out of its misery 'cause it was gonna die 'a radiation poisonin' and suffer a lot more than if I didn't shoot it?"

"Th-That and this are two completely different things! Don't compare them like they're all the same!"

"Well guess what, Murakumo?" Damon roars, facing forward now to pay attention to the horizon, "you're talkin' to a guy who's lived his whole damn life as a game 'a survival! At some point, shootin' a baby, meetin' people whose family's dyin', they all come to mean the same thing: that this world is shit, and that someone needs ta go out there 'n make things right!"

Murakumo counters back, trying not to lose face. "A-And you're doing that by gathering up us ship girls and using us as your personal fleet? And you're denying the ones of us you don't find to other people who might use us for doing good as well? Mr. Harrison at least seems like a good man! If he commands a few ship girls, it's not as though we know for a fact that he will use them for evil, like that O'Reilly person might or something!"

"Oh, yeah? But how do you know? Do ya know for a fact that Mr. Harrison's gonna really use his ship girls to fight the other assholes that live in the South 'n makin' life hard on everyone else? Is his goal to change the world? No! It ain't! And you ain't got a single clue that'll tell ya for damn sure that Harrison's got good intentions later on down the road!"

"Then what about you!? You've said that your plans were to conquer the world or something ridiculous like that! First off, that doesn't even sound good at all, we've already talked about this before, haven't we?! And what if you just end up using us for your own desires? What if you just use us to just do whatever the hell you want? How can we trust you?!" Murakumo places the emphasis on those words. "How are you so different from Mr. Harrison?!"

Damon turns around in his seat for the last time.

"Because I'm your Admiral. Not Mr. Harrison, not any other motherfucker in this side 'a the South, not even Sanford, who you call 'Sensei' 'r some weird Japanese shit - but me. You follow my orders, because I got to you all first. And if any 'a you got problems with how I do things or if any 'a you don't like who I am, then tough shit, deal with it." Damon faces forward for good. "Mobile, comin' up in about a few minutes. Everyone on yer toes."

Silence settles down once more in the passenger hold for a moment.

"Commander...doesn't sound like a nice guy at all," Suzukaze grumbles, miffed by Damon's aggressive tone. "Sheesh...talk about gettin' assigned to a terrible guy right off the bat."

"Don't say that," Amatsukaze rebuts, recalling the agony that Damon suffered to keep her with the group during their assault on Atlanta earlier in the week, "he was injured terribly because of me. All of you can check your memory files right now and see what Admiral went through just to keep me with all of us. He could've easily just gave the order to abandon me at Atlanta, but instead he carried me nearly all the way himself and got really hurt because of it."

"That's because he just doesn't want you falling into the hands of the enemies!" Murakumo says vehemently. "He even said it himself! He'd much rather go through the trouble of carrying you than to see you getting acquired by someone else! It's not like he was doing it because he had sympathy or something."

"Even still," Mutsu interrupts, joining the conversation, "a normal human being doesn't simply just jump out of a five-story building and get shot three times in the chest for the sake of just one of us ship girls. We're all just weapons, anyway, at the end of the day, you know. We're no different from the things we're all holding." The ship girls look down at the guns that they are carrying. "To me, anyway, it's clear that the Admiral sees us very differently than most other humans would - or should. He even said it himself when Shigure tried to intervene with his interrogation of those men just earlier, when he took offense at the guy who called us 'those things'. Normally, that wouldn't bother anyone. Heck, it didn't even bother any of us, did it? No, right? Yeah, but the point is, he did. He got mad when we were called 'it's', and he broke the guy's nose. I don't think he does those things just for show."

Murakumo rolls her eyes. "I can't be the only one here who thinks Admiral's kind of a shitbag, right? C'mon, who else here agrees with me? Anyone?" Only Suzukaze nods in agreement. "Okay, so only Suzukaze does. But I'm still not convinced! I don't think he's a good guy, and I'm the first ship girl he got, before any of you!"

Samidare turns coldly to Murakumo. "And so? What's that gotta do with anything? Just because you were the 'first', does that mean your opinion of the Admiral's gonna mean more than ours? Is that it, huh?"

Murakumo returns Samidare's gaze just as coldly. "I have more experience being with him, so of course my words'll weigh more than anyone else's here. You've barely been active for, what, five or ten minutes? Don't act all authoritative on me, idiot!"

"Hey!" Suzukaze shouts, suddenly angry now that Murakumo has just thrown an insult at her older ship sister. "Don't make fun of my sister! I might agree that Admiral seems like kind of a dick, yeah, but don't go hurtin' Samidare-nee-chan's feelings along the way!"

"Now what the hell're you all gettin' all flared up about back there!?" Damon yells from the cockpit, not bothering to turn around to see what is going on. "What's the fuss? Why're y'all arguin'?"

"None of your damn business!" Murakumo yells back.

"It should be!" Damon again roars back. "What did I say, Murakumo? What the fuck did I say back when it was jus' you, me, 'n Amatsukaze at one point?" Amatsukaze's cheeks flush when she realizes Damon said her full name properly. "Don't argue among yourselves! That just fucks everything up! You argue now, you're gonna argue while yer out in the middle of a firefight, 'n shit's gonna get outta control real fast! Didja forget already!?"

"I haven't forgotten, I know that! What, you're saying we can't even have our own damn opinions anymore?!"

"It'd be nice if ya didn't have ones that'll make other ship girls start ta hate you!"

"Then that's their problem, holy fuck!" Murakumo's words feel like a slap across Samidare's face, and Samidare turns away from her slowly, a deep resentment starting to creep up on her. "You say that to us, so I should be able to say the same thing to you or anyone else I wanna say that to!"

"And I ain't sayin' that's a bad attitude, but that's jus' bein' insensitive! A'ight, Murakumo, you deal with it! Next time ya start an argument, don't come runnin' to me askin' me why everyone you've started arguments with're hatin' you 'n your guts, 'k?"

"Fine!"

Amagi looks about the cabin, amused and interested in the discourse of the conversation.

"What a nonconventional Admiral," she muses. "I cannot say I am not deeply interested in seeing how he will keep this fleet together."

"This is not something to witness like a spectator at a kabuki theater, Amagi-san," Kaga says quietly. "The problems that affect this fleet will affect us too."

"I am aware. But while we may do our part to keep it together, ultimately if the Admiral himself is not strong enough, our efforts will be in vain."

"Amagi-san, what do you think of Admiral so far?" Shoukaku asks, her voice, too, quiet to prevent the attraction of unnecessary attention.

"So far, judging from what I have been able to discern from the memory files," Amagi says, "our Admiral appears to be good-willed young man but with a fiery temper and shortness of patience for nonsense or trivial matters. He will have to demonstrate with the coming events that are to follow that his fight is indeed the good fight."

Amatsukaze leans in towards her right to Murakumo and whispers to the latter, "Murakumo, I think...you should say sorry to Samidare. She looked hurt when you said that."

Murakumo scoffs. "If she can't even handle something like that and gets all butthurt over it, then I'm sorry, that's really not my problem anymore," she retorts.

"Well, you might not think it is, but even still, if you keep saying things that'll hurt more of us ship girls, that's going to be bad."

Shaking off Amatsukaze, Murakumo leans back against the side of the passenger hold and closes her eyes. Amatsukaze, seeing that nothing else she says will sway Murakumo, sighs and draws away. But the silence that ensues after that, excluding the helicopter engine and the main rotor blades, is shot-lived, as soon, Damon yells,

"Mobile, sixty mikes out!"

The pair of helicopters swoop back into Mobile airspace.

"Harrison said to land in front 'a the Alabama!" Sanford reminds Damon, and they drain speed to land swiftly and smoothly as possible on the empty parking lot sitting in front of the retired U.S.S. Alabama.

"Isn't that one of the ships we fought back in the war, poi?" Yuudachi asks as the ship girls look out the windows and spot the enormous ship sitting docked in the harbor waters.

"Yup, that's the real deal. She was turned into a museum ship after the war was over," Damon says quickly, shutting off the engines and climbing out of the cockpit. "She's been sittin' there for the last sixty years." Damon notices the looks of resent on some of the ship girls' faces, Shigure, Yuudachi, Kaga , Haruna, and Suzukaze in particular. "Still angry, huh? Well, it's no longer your enemy, so it ain't worth botherin' ta get angry at it anymore. Everyone out!"

Damon's party exits their respective helicopters as the guards of the Alabama Memorial site come out to greet Damon and Sanford.

"Hey yo!" Damon calls and waves at the first pair of guards who come out to meet him, "I need ta talk to Harrison, like, right the fuck now! Where is he?"

As the guards call Mr. Harrison to meet Damon and Sanford at the Alabama Memorial Site, the ship girls, having exited the Merlin, gaze out at the Alabama.

"So that's kind of what we look like if we were ships..." Samidare says breathlessly, amazed by the sight. "That's amazing."

"It still doesn't change the fact that this was part of the enemy fleet though, back in the war," Suzukaze pouts, still resentful.

"Oh c'mon, it's been nearly eighty years since the war. They were like us, fighting a war they believed in," Mutsu says, trying to dispel all the resentment. "Are you going to hate the Alabama for once being our enemy? Look, it's here to show us kind of what we were like too, back in the day. The Alabama was a battleship, I think, like me and Haruna. We could've been like this. Right, Haruna?"

Haruna's face is mixed with admiration and sadness. "Haruna...is not sure," she says finally. "But you are right; Haruna should not feel resentment towards a survivor of the war. Seeing that many of the ships of the war were scrapped anyway, even those of victorious nations, it is definitely fortunate that this particular ship did not suffer the fate that our comrades may have, regardless of their efforts against us."

"See? You should all follow Haruna's example," Mutsu concludes happily. "It's a different time, different place. We might be reborn again with our memories intact from the war and the knowledge of what happened, but we mustn't let those old grudges keep us back."

"I am not too sure," Kaga mutters bitterly, "for this was one of the American ships who participated in what the Americans called the 'Great Marianas Turkey Shoot'. I still do not have the heart to forgive a participating ship of that debacle so readily, even now. The fact that the Americans belittled our efforts in such way...is unforgivable."

"W-Well...let's just hope that our Admiral now does not make such a blunder like that again," Shoukaku says hurriedly. "Admittedly, American technology was much better than ours at the time. We should not have committed so many resources to the battle had we realized how one-sided the battle was going to be..."

Kaga sharply turns to Shoukaku, and then to Haruna. "But you two were there, upholding the honor of the First Carrier Division after our loss, after Akagi-san, Soryuu, Hiryuu, and I were lost at Midway! You were there fighting alongside Zuikaku, Taihou, Jun'you, Hi'you, and everyone else! You as well, Haruna! You were injured in action escorting our light carriers, Ryuuhou, Zuihou, Chitose, and Chiyoda. How can you simply let such a dishonorable loss pass by you unaffected? How can you stand before one of the very ships who destroyed our pride, the planes of the navy, so cruelly and with such impunity and lived afterwards to simply mock us afterwards in history books for decades afterwards?"

Shoukaku and Haruna sport difficult expressions, not knowing what to say. They simply stare out, some with admiration, others with resent, at the U.S.S. Alabama, with its guns facing straight forward, as if it were a soldier forever in a posture of salute towards the South, as if one day hoping for another battle out at sea. Only their Admiral's sudden sharp call snaps them back to reality.

"Girls, girls! C'mere, ol' man Harrison's 'bout here!"

The ship girls walk over to where Damon and Sanford are, and a car with a technical escort drive into the site compound and park nearby. Harrison, with a single guard, and some secretaries exit their vehicle and approach Damon.

"Hey! How ya doin', son?" Mr. Harrison jovially greets Damon and Sanford. "The mission go well for you? I see your little fleet's grown quite a bit, so everything went well for you, eh?" He sticks out his hand to shake, but Damon, instead, sticks out his middle finger, and the guards, seeing this, shout out in alarm and raise their rifles. In response, Iku, Amatsukaze, Shimakaze, Yuudachi, and Shigure immediately bounce forward, standing at their Admiral's side and raising the barrels of their guns as well, creating a sort of multi-man Mexican standoff.

"...what's goin' on here? Why the hostility, son?" Mr. Harrison, surprised by the sudden tension, raises both his hands in an effort to defuse the hostilities. "Everyone, please, lower your guns. There ain't a need for this, there really isn't. Randall, Johnny, everyone, put 'em down." The guards, still unsure, hesitantly lower their weapons, and slowly, Damon's ship girls do the same, and the two groups keep wary eyes on one another. "Damon, son, explain yourself. I'm not mad, so tell me everything."

"Tell you everythin'? You're the one who needs ta tell me everythin', asshole!" Damon snarls. "Now spit it the fuck out. How many ship girls ya got right now?"

Mr. Harrison recoils a bit, as if his words are a slap to the face. "Ship girls? Son, I ain't got any! I admit I tried to purchase those two - " he points at Shimakaze and Kaga - "but that was when we were in Altanty. You already knew that."

Damon swiftly pulls out his knife handle, pops open the little screen on the top, and fiddles with it for a few seconds. Then, he sticks it out towards Mr. Harrison like a microphone, and as Mr. Harrison looks at it, confused, wondering what he ought to do, the knife handle begins playing back an audio file.

"Alright, alright, we'll tell ya, don't hurt our bro! Ol' man Harrison told us ta come here! That answer ya now?"

"Ol' man Harrison...fuckin' Baxter Harrison? From Mobile?"

"Ain't no otha Harrison I know of 'round these parts, right? That's him!"

Any remaining color in Mr. Harrison's face is now completely drained out. Damon, seeing his reaction, smiles deviously as he plays back the audio file again, just to be an asshole.

"Geez, that thing's even a recorder?" Sanford whistles, also surprised at Damon's fancy little melee gadget. "You sure got all your grounds covered there, kid."

"If I've put several thousand bucks into makin' a nanoknife, I can spend a couple hundred more puttin' a hidden mic and a few dozen terabytes 'a ambient recordin' tech in it, too," Damon smirks. "Anyway. Harrison, checkmate, buddy. You were tryin'a get the ship girls nearby at Gulfport, weren'tcha? Thought you'd be able ta send a couple guys down there 'n snatch 'em away before we got there? It almost worked, too, 'cause if we were even a couple minutes late, yer men woulda been outta there and we'd've probably never known." Damon turns off the playback and pockets the knife handle. "I told ya at the dinner last night that I wouldn't tolerate anyone else commandin' these ship girls, that I'd fight anyone who had 'em for 'em. I made that shit really fuckin' clear; hell, that's why I fuckin' went balls deep into Atlantan territory to get Shimakaze and Kaga and save your and Sanford's asses along the way! And I come back 'n find out yer tryin'a pull this shit behind my back? Really, ol 'man? Fuckin' really?"

Mr. Harrison sighs painfully. "Look...son, you're...you're still a fiery young man with a lotta passion 'n energy. But that's the thing, son, I - I jus' don't know if I can trust ya! Mobile - this place ain't got a super large or super strong military either, compared to some other factions out there. You can't blame me for not wantin' to acquire some of these ship girls for my own people's sake! Yeah, sure, I didn't tell ya anythin' 'bout it, but of course I wouldn't, because if you knew, you would definitely make sure I wouldn't get my hands on any!"

"It ain't like you even know how to activate 'em anyway," Damon retorts with amusement, "so how useful would they'da been to ya? Sittin' in their containers for moral support? Yeah, fat help."

"That would have been a problem my boys 'n I would've figured out sooner or later," Mr. Harrison defends, "but the point is, I wanted to acquire big guns for myself - rather, for our own defense. We hadn't had a chance to acquire big guns for ourselves in a long time, and we certainly didn't know where to go to get some!"

"Tch. Yeah, right..." Damon snorts sarcastically. "Then I guess I ain't got much of a purpose stayin' here, then. Sanford, we're goin' ta Norfolk for the rest 'a 'em. Everyone, back in the chopper, we're - "

As Damon is turning around and starting to head for his Merlin, one of Mr. Harrison's secretaries puts his fingers to his ear and nods urgently. He walks up to Mr. Harrison and whispers something in his ear, something that truly causes the faction leader to turn pale. Sanford narrows his eyes.

"Lemme guess, Harrison, they've started attackin', in'nit?"

"Yes," Mr. Harrison says, short of breath, "the Atlantans...they've already breached through our northern perimeter. Our guard there...he had hit at the sight of their forces rolling in and radioed us."

Damon, hearing this, stops dead in his tracks, unable to take another step towards his chopper. All eyes are on Damon.

"So, kid," Sanford says with a particularly nasty smirk, "you know you got a choice. What'll it be?"

"You said you owed this place a favor, Admiral," Amatsukaze points out, "so now would be a really good chance to pay it back."

"Admiral, you need to help this place out, nano!" Iku's voice rings aloud. "They took care of you and everything, and Mr. Harrison isn't a bad person either, he just wants to protect his own turf, nano!"

It doesn't take any more pleading to convince Damon. "Okay, fine, fine! I did say I owe this place!" Damon relents, throwing up his arms. Turning to Harrison, he points at the faction leader, "Harrison, my girls still need equipment like tactical vests 'n shit. We'll handle the Atlantans, just get my girls the shit they need!"

A look of huge relief washes over Mr. Harrison's countenance. "Head over to the Battlehouse Hotel," he instructs, "I'll have my men put out supplies there right now. Our people, too, will go out there and dig in to defend against the damn Atlantans."

The same secretary walks up again to Mr. Harrison's ear and whispers something else.

"They - they're also coming in by sea too!" Mr. Harrison blurts out in amazement and horror. "We just got word from one of our towns, the one in Pensacola, that there's a detachment 'a hostile boats coming in towards Mobile! They've already started firing but they seem to be headed straight here!"

Damon groans, slapping his hand over his face very loudly. "Fuckin' fuck! I don't wanna split up the group..." He looks around at his current fleet, then to Sanford, having to make a choice. "Yuudachi, Shigure, Suzukaze, Samidare, Haruna, and Amagi, you're comin' with me to defend against the north! The rest 'a you, Mutsu, Iku, Kaga, Amatsukaze, Shimakaze, Shoukaku, and Murakumo, you're goin' with Sanford and defend against their attack from the Gulf!"

Kaga immediately protests. "Is it not possible for me to fight with Amagi-san?" she asks quickly.

"There's no fuckin' time to argue with me right now, Kaga, jus' do as you're told!"

"Admiral, please!" Kaga implores. "Let me fight with A - "

Amagi puts her hand on Kaga's shoulder. "You will have plenty of chances of fight alongside me in the future, Kaga," she says quickly, "but do as you are told. You still have faith in the First Carrier Division, no? Act like a proud member of it."

Kaga bites her lip, tearing her eyes away from Amagi.

"Oi, kiddo, ya need to select a flagship for the girls goin' with me to sea," Sanford sternly reminds Damon. "You need a flagship so that she can call the shots for the rest 'a the team when yer not around."

"Flagship? Da hell's that?!" Damon shouts out. "I don't know that shit, nor do we got the time for me to know!"

"Jus' pick one, fuckin' idiot!" Sanford bellows. "It's important for 'em to survive out there!"

"Agghhhh - Mutsu, you be the flagship!" Damon says out of frustration. "I'll leave it to you ta lead the other girls out there!"

Mutsu pumps her arm. "Yeah, leave it to me!"

"All right, everyone into your respective helis!" Damon roars and sends the girls back into the helicopters before turning to Sanford. "I swear to God and my mom's grave, Sanford, you do anythin' funny 'r cause any 'a my ship girls to take excessive amounts 'a damage, I'm skinnin' yer ass 'n hangin' it from that mast on the Alabama."

Sanford smirks as they disperse to their respective choppers. "You wouldn't want my ass, it's too flat!" he laughs back, and Damon flips him off one last time.


After getting the girls geared up at the emergency supply station set up in the parking lot in front of the Battle House Renaissance Hotel, the HC-3 Merlin parts ways with its escorting Bell M-412, going north while the latter heads south towards the ocean.

As they were getting supplied at the hotel, Damon and company were debriefed through radios they were given to maintain communications with any local Mobile fighter by Mr. Harrison, who has been getting live reports on the enemy's progress. The Atlantan northern army, estimated by scouts to be very roughly eight hundred-man strong, are rolling in with ten Stryker APC's, six M1 Abrams MBT's, twenty Humvee's outfitted with M-2 "Ma Deuce" mounted machine guns, four heavily armed UH-1 Iroquois helicopters, and four more heavily armed AH-64 Apache helicopters. The soldiers who are not being transported in these vehicles are rolling along with the rest of the vehicles in civilian vehicles modified for troop transport, like armored SUV's and UAZ's. They had already broken through the lightly defended northeast perimeters of the faction of Mobile and are rapidly covering the distance between them and the capital of Mobile itself, gunning down anyone in their way, regardless of affiliation with Mobile. Reports from scouts in Pensacola stated that the Atlantan southern navy is composed of seven patrol boats armed to the teeth with mounted machine guns, Mark-19 grenade launchers, and a handful of homemade chainguns escorting the U.S.S. John Paul Jones, DDG-53, a Guided-Missile Destroyer renowned before the war as one of the most technologically advanced destroyers the United States had in its navy, and they, too, were no less than forty miles away from reaching Mobile.

"Admiral, you were bitching earlier about not wasting ammo," Amatsukaze yells into her mic, her hair whipping past her face as she and her ship sister Shimakaze are sitting with their legs dangling out of the crowded passenger hold of the Bell M-412, which Sanford is flying as fast as possible over the ocean to a suitable location at which to engage the incoming enemy navy. "What's your call now? We can't exactly 'preserve' ammo against an enemy like the ones we're facing now."

"Forget I ever fuckin' said that," Damon growls back, he himself piloting the Merlin and flying over to the small Alabaman town of Evergreen, located next to Interstate 65. "Use however much ammo you need to. Blow all those fucks to hell 'n back, I don't care how many rounds you need to do it."

Murakumo, sitting with Iku and doing the same thing as the ship sisters are doing on the other side of the passenger hold, grins happily. "For once you don't say something completely retarded and egotistical," she smirks.

"What was that?"

"Nooooothing."

"That's what I thought. Anyway, good luck to everyone! I dunno how any 'a ya can really 'die', but don't be takin' too much damage on me, and above all, don't even FUCKING think 'bout gettin' captured by the Atlantans, 'cause what I'm gonna do is go over there, torch that city to the ground, 'n take y'all back. You are MY fleet, got that?! Defend Mobile, but don't be goin' out there 'n end up gettin' captured! Sanford, that goes for you too, if I find out that you lost any 'a my ship girls, I'm gonna cut yer balls off 'n burn 'em in front 'a yer face!"

"Empty threats, I tell ya, kid!" Sanford simply laughs Damon's threat off. "Think 'bout who yer talkin' to first 'fore ya threaten to castrate someone. I am the LAST person you wanna be sayin' that to!"

"Yeah, laugh while ya still can, it ain't the first time I'll be doin' it! Anyways, this could go bad really fast if we're not careful, and the enemy's pretty fuckin' well-armed! Stay sharp, stay frosty, stay whatever the fuck you need to be, and kill any Atlantan you see! Damon out!"

Sanford's and Damon's groups are now segregated into their own personal radio channels for more efficient group communication. The Bell M-412 is flying well in the middle of Mobile Bay.

"Okay, girls!" Sanford yells to get his ship girls' attention. "This's the plan, so listen up carefully, I probably ain't got the time to repeat this! We're gonna fly over to the edge 'a the bay, the place where Fort Morgan 'n Fort Gaines're at! Harrison said he's already got defenders over there watchin' seaborne traffic comin' into Mobile Bay, so they can help us fight off the Atlantan navy! Once we see the two forts, I'ma drop off all 'a you 'cept for Kaga, who'll stay here in the chopper with me to provide aerial support! Everyone got it so far?"

The unanimous "Roger that!" answers Sanford's question.

"Good! Now real quick, here's the dangerous part 'a our mission! One 'a the enemy ships is the U.S.S. John Paul Jones, it's a modernized destroyer ship armed to the fuckin' brim with all the latest military technology 'n gadgets 'n weapons! How the fuck the Atlantans managed ta get their hands on a Federally owned destroyer, I ain't got a single damn clue, but it doesn't matter now! Run Protocol Scorched Sea: annihilate everything! Be careful with the U.S.S. John Paul Jones!"

The Bell M-412 flies into view of the two forts, and Sanford soon gets an incoming transmission from the radioman in Fort Morgan:

"Are you them reinforcements Harrison's sendin' us? 'Cause, like, we could really fuckin' use 'em right now! They're only five miles away, hurrryyyy! ! !"

"Keep yer shirt on, Sparky, we're here!" Sanford simply laughs. "A'ight, girls, this's your drop point! See ya on the other side, now go, go, go!"

From an altitude of nearly two hundred meters, Amatsukaze, Shimakaze, Murakumo, Iku, Mutsu, and Shoukaku simply jump out of the helicopter like paratroopers, except for the fact that none of them actually have parachutes. Kaga, as instructed, remains behind, but before Shoukaku climbs out of the passenger hold to jump, Kaga puts her hand on Shoukaku's shoulder.

"If possible," she whispers quickly but loudly enough so that Shoukaku can hear her over the helicopter blades, "I would like to see the pride of our nation's Carrier Divisions fully assembled once more. Do not do anything rash."

Shoukaku smiles back. "Of course not, Kaga-senpai. We have our sisters to find first, don't we?"

Kaga returns the smile, but more weakly as Shoukaku pushes off and drops straight down into the water below. In quick succession, each ship girl slams into the water surface, creating magnificent columns of water splashes that reach up nearly fifty meters in height. The exception is Iku, who, having left her clothes behind in the Bell M-412 and wearing only her customary school swimsuit, dives straight into the ocean like an Olympic diver. As soon as each ship girl hits the water, she immediately deploys her ship armaments, their gearboxes morphing and ejecting hissing sounds of steam and machinery as they produce their fearsome weapons of war. Shoukaku's left arm expands her flight deck, which has been folded up into a bulletproof and weatherproof compact upper-arm plate when not in use.

"Y-Yo, I jus' heard some giant explosions off in the water! Are they attackin' already?!" the radioman down at Fort Morgan radios, terrified.

"Goddamn it, calm down, kid, it's us deployin' our weapons! Now concentrate on lookin' out for 'em!" Sanford bellows back. "Kaga, keep sharp!"

Kaga shoulders her Izanami Crossbow, the Desert Tactical HTI standing on its bipod further in the passenger hold.

"Enemy fleet sighted," Kaga reports, her scope pointed and zeroed in on the incoming navy. "I have the enemy destroyer in my sights."

"The patrol boats should be no problem for you girls," Sanford reports, having eyes on the incoming fleet. "It's that damn destroyer that'll give y'all problems."

"Why, Sensei, what's it armed with?" Mutsu asks, her 41cm cannons itching to squeeze off a volley.

"Shit, Mutsu, where should I even start..." Sanford sighs. "Torpedoes, fuckin' Raytheon Tomahawk Long-Range Cruise Missiles, .50cal MG's, a 12.7cm twin mounted turret on there somewhere...you can get away with gettin' hit by the fiddycals, MAYBE the torpedoes and the 12.7cm...but gee fuckin' gee if you get hit by that Tomahawk. Don't even try."

"Everyone, forward! Meet them outside the bay, don't let them get into position to attack the forts!" Mutsu orders as the flagship, and the ship girls on the water move out. Normally, the ship girls would run on water to conserve fuel, but because they have chosen to begin consuming their fuel reserves, their bodies pulse with energy and allow them to simply glide across the water at high speeds, leaving small water trails in their wake.

"Enemy fleet is in double-layer diamond formation!" Kaga reports, still observing the fleet from aboard the Bell M-412 chopper. "They are perhaps anticipating an aerial defensive assault! I also see an enemy helicopter lifting off the stern of the enemy destroyer!"

"Then that's one helluva bad mistake they're makin'! Girls, single line formation! Shell 'em all before they even get a chance to fire back!" Sanford orders.

"Roger!"

The single-line formation: Mutsu, Shimakaze, Amatsukaze, Iku, Murakumo, and Shoukaku sail the waters towards the enemy fleet. Once they reach the same longitude as Fort Morgan, Mutsu throws her hand forward and gives the order.

"FIRE!"

Simultaneously, both navies open fire - for the Atlantan navy, the destroyer specifically opens fire with its 12.7cm twin gun turret. The volley of artillery fire paint the ocean waters temporarily red and orange. Shoukaku takes aim with her Izanami Crossbow and launches three Type 99 Dive Bomber crossbow bolts, while Iku, who is underwater at a depth of forty meters, pulls out one of her 53.3cm torpedoes, and hurls it towards the enemy navy. The three launched bolts, as they hurtle through the air, ignite the fuel that is contained inside their shafts, propelling the airplanes at their tips much like how the disposable side rocket propellers on space shuttles help the shuttle itself reach the outer limits of space, and the airplanes, boosted by the fuel, fly forward as the crossbow bolts start to fall out of the sky. Suddenly, the small miniature planes break off away from one another, and in small puffs of smoke, they turn into full-sized Navy Type 99 Carrier Bomber Model 11's. Iku's torpedo, too, a second and a half after Iku throws it, expands suddenly into its full size of the 53.3cm torpedo.

The enemy destroyer's single 12.7cm Mark 45 twin barreled turret opens fire, too, but not at the ship girls. Instead, it scores a direct hit on Fort Morgan.

Five of the patrol gunboats escorting the U.S.S. John Paul Jones immediately disappear behind columns of water that are splashed up from misses by the first volley of artillery fire from the ship girls, but when the water columns die down, four blazing fireballs are left behind in their wake. Only one of the escorting gunboats escapes unscathed. The dive bombers, dodging the AA fifty-caliber mounted machine guns, swoop in and drop their payloads of 250-kg high explosive or armor-piercing bombs onto the destroyer. Two of the bombs, the high-explosive bombs, miss, harmlessly dousing the front of the destroyer and the nearby gunboats that have survived the first shelling phase with giant waves of seawater, but one of the bombs, the armor piercing round, lands a critical hit - it digs straight into the forward engine room and disables the main engines so badly that the destroyer is permanently crippled, though the crew of the ship do not know it yet. To make matters worse, Iku's 53.3cm torpedo, true to her World War II nickname, crashes right into the destroyer's hull, wedges itself into the forward storage rooms, and explodes, punching a huge hole in the lower forward hull of the ship and causing it to take on water.

"They're firin', they're firin'!" Radio chatter from the two forts on the ground scream out of control as the Mobile defenders begin to try to fight back, firing fort-mounted mortars out towards sea but not really accomplishing much other than sending mortar rounds into the bottom of the gulf like kids throwing pebbles into a pond. One of them, with a bit of luck, does land near the destroyer, and had it been a more modern, more powerful mortar that had fired the round, it would have been able to deal quite some damage to further weaken the enemy destroyer, but as it stands, the support from the two forts is negligible.

"That's some good damage!" Sanford yells in excitement, surveying the damage from their helicopter.

"Sir, that enemy helicopter is closing in on us fast!" Kaga yells, her eyes focused on the incoming enemy MH-60S Black Hawk helicopter flying towards them and the ship girls on the water.

"Kaga, switch to your rifle! Your crossbow ain't gonna help much here!" Sanford orders, and Kaga complies.

"Sensei, we'll help shoot that enemy aircraft down!" Mutsu offers, turning her 14cm cannon to the air, but Sanford dissuades her.

"Don't use those, they suck for AA purposes! We'll handle this, just keep fire on the enemy fleet! Kaga, I want you to snipe the enemy helicopter pilot! Shoot that heli down!"

Kaga bites her lip. "That is a very hard shot, sir. I do not know if I can hit it - "

"I ain't askin' if you KNOW you can hit it, I'm askin' you to HIT THE DAMN SHOT!" Sanford turns the Bell M-412 so that Kaga has a clear view at the incoming MH-60S Black Hawk, whose side-mounted M-134 Miniguns are spooling up, threatening to shred the Bell M-412 helicopter to pieces with their depleted uranium slugs.

Kaga raises her Desert Tactical HTI. In a kneeling position, her eyes quickly and desperately analyze her target and construct an on-the-spot aim assist program that gives her a diagram of the most likely targets that she can shoot to inflict the most amount of damage. Inhaling sharply, Kaga stabilizes her breath and pulls the trigger. The fifty-caliber bullet rips through the side of the enemy Black Hawk and strikes the left gunner in the head, splattering his brains all over the helicopter interior and the side as his headless body tilts out and drops into the ocean below. Cycling the bolt as quickly as possible, Kaga slaps the bolt back in place, takes aim again, and puts in a follow-up shot. This time, her aim strikes true, and the window in front of the pilot's seat darkens with a splatter of blood. The helicopter slowly tilts out of control, but it does not yet go down, spiraling slowly out of control at first but then regaining its stability in the air.

"Someone took over the pilot's seat in there!" Sanford yells, observing the helicopter movement patterns. "Hang on, Kaga, I'ma finish it off!"

Kaga has to hang onto the side handlebar as Sanford violently yanks the nose of the Bell M-412 towards the spiraling Black Hawk and opens fire with the nose-mounted M60. The deep thoom-thoom-thoom of the powerful fifty caliber machine gun pounds away at the dying Black Hawk struggling to restabilize, and after about ten seconds of sustained fire, one of the M60 bullets again hits the new pilot, and this time, the Black Hawk drifts down into the sea and crashes into it, its main rotor still spinning as if struggling to get the helicopter out of the water but slowly and surely grinds to a halt as water seeps into the helicopter and swallows it, clogging its systems and drowning it as its survivors manage to swim out of the wreckage and tread water helplessly.

The U.S.S. John Paul Jones attempts to retaliate, now focusing its operational weapons towards the ship girls. Its 12.7cm turret, while fearsome and powerful, can only do so much when it is the only viable weapon against the incoming ship girls, who easily side-strafe the shots so that they are only hit by the water splashed towards them by the missed round.

"Fire, fire!" Mutsu shrieks, her 14cm turrets pounding away methodically. "Shoot as soon as you're able! Bring down that destroyer as fast as you can!"

More and more shells strike the destroyer, chipping away at its defenses and armor as the Type 99 Dive Bombers revert to their miniature size before landing on Shoukaku's flight deck.

"Tch, this's a tough motherfucker!" Murakumo growls, her 12.7cm turrets blasting away. The destroyer's tough armor proves tricky to punch through without specialized armor piercing rounds.

Then, Sanford sees a big flap in the middle of the destroyer flip open, revealing a missile pod, the Tomahawk guided missile preparing to launch.

"Girls, be advised, Tomahawk missile's goin' up in the air!" Sanford yells. "When you have eyes on it, shoot it down! It might head over to Mobile!"

"What should we do!?" Shoukaku radios back.

"Shoot it when it's coming outta its pod!"

"Shimakaze, Amatsukaze! Close in on the enemy ship and destroy that missile!" Mutsu orders, and Amatsukaze and Shimakaze break formation and blast forward at full speed. The last remaining patrol gunboat stands in their way, so Amatsukaze dashes in front and yells out,

"Shimakaze, I'll take care of that boat! Go attack the destroyer directly!"

Shimakaze nods. "Okay!"

Drawing the power of the navitasium cube that she had loaded earlier at Damon's order, Amatsukaze gives Rensouhou-kun her AK-47 for him to hold onto, lights her Ignition Glove on fire, and creates a sword of fire. Now, the fire is not colored red, but blue. As Shimakaze wave-dashes around past the gunboat, Amatsukaze comes up straight to it and buries her blue sword of fire into the hull of the gunboat and drags it from the front all the way out the back, and when Amatsukaze dissipates her blue sword, the entire gunboat itself mysteriously explodes, leaving literally nothing behind bigger than a scrap of scrunched paper. Shimakaze closes the distance between herself and the U.S.S. John Paul Jones, which fires all its remaining functional small arms turrets at her in an attempt to stop her, but Shimakaze, only getting struck once or twice with inconsequential results, turns so that her three Rensouhou-chans can get the optimal angle, and has them fire as she dashes by. The three volleys of 12.7cm shots, however, largely miss the Tomahawk guided missile as it continues to launch out of its pod in the destroyer.

"Sh - Shit!" Shimakaze swears as she is forced to disengage, not wanting to risk taking further damage from the fifty-caliber machine guns and chainguns firing on her as she backs off. "I didn't hit the missile!"

"Everyone, concentrate fire on the missile! Bring it down, now!" Mutsu commands, and firing priority shifts onto the Tomahawk missile, the ship girls having to change position to get better angles on the emerging missile before it can reach full speed and soar up into the air. Shells begin to land near the midsection of the ship, either hitting the ship directly or splashing around the ship. The missile then ignites, and it starts to lift off into the air.

"I won't let you, you bastard!" Mutsu screams, and she unloads her 41cm guns one last time in a final effort to detonate it in midair before it gets away. The first shell misses cleanly, but the second shell explodes right on the warhead, detonating the entire missile just before it can gain greater rocket acceleration, and the resulting blast rips apart the top of the destroyer, namely its main mast, and the force of the combined explosions very nearly even causes the entire ship itself to tip up off the waer. The heat from the explosions melt the paint off the ship below it, lighting anything flammable on fire on deck, and scorch marks are thrown everywhere. Debris is raining down like acid rain onto what remains of the destroyer's hull, and anyone on deck manning the mounted machine guns are either dead from deadly shrapnel of the destroyed missile or are burning to death from the intense spike in heat from the explosions on the deck itself.

"This isn't done yet!" Mutsu signals to the ships still with her. "Everyone concentrate fire on that 12.7cm turret! Once that's offline, then the enemy ship can't do anything! Let's go - FIRE!"

Mutsu, Murakumo and Shoukaku fire all weapons and a Type 21 Zero Fighter at the destroyer's 12.7cm cannons, and all shots land. The turret gets blown out of its station, and the U.S.S. John Paul Jones is now effectively weaponless and ineffective, disabled of all its armaments except for its mannable machine gun turrets. Only a cluster of eight smoking wrecks are all that is now left of the Atlantan fleet.