Unsung, Unbent, Unbroken Part One - By Arkona's Leaf
"Ideas that enter the mind under fire remain there securely and forever"-Leon Trotsky
Hunger. Why was it always hunger? It burned and ate away at the soul, like a sickness she just couldn't fight. Weakness…she couldn't even feel her own body…so weak…so cold, so…unfair. It wasn't supposed to be like this, and yet it always seemed to come back to those three things: Hunger, Cold, and Weakness
That trifecta of things always seemed to dominate everything about her life. And even now since her rebirth as a 'Shipgirl' Gangut felt the too familiar hunger pangs attack her stomach as she lies in her rocking chair, clutching her own jacket and comforting the smaller destroyer-girl in her arms. Her own Ushanka and baby blue shawl doing only so much to ward off the bitter biting cold the arctic circle threw at them.
Looking down again, she made out the figures of her two Cruiser companions and their other three Destroyers all huddled against each other, collectively sharing an amalgamation of pillows, wool blankets, and other manners of cloth in a desperate attempt to keep warm.
The wood-burning stove was eating through what little firewood they had with a hunger that rivaled her own. Even now it was beginning to die down again and would need to be fed. Quietly, she lamented that even now she couldn't muster the strength to move the Destroyer in her arms, even for a reason as important as shifting the burning logs for heat. That was a luxury, a sign of weakness she could not afford, not now.
Unlike most shipgirls of the current era, there was no great, "Hero's welcome" awaiting herself or the girls who came after. Ironic that they could even be summoned at all to this land. This foreign land that had apparently forgotten.
Rocking back and forth she hoped that sleep would take away the pain, even if for only a few hours. She closed her eyes to lure that precious feeling of security back into her life, but even sleep would bring no measure of peace to the once mighty battleship's heart. For there were only memories…painful memories…unfinished memories.
...
The snow had fallen fresh on the late October air as Petrograd's streets left nothing but blood in their wake
The anger began to overflow
The Tsar's men came, equipped with guns and swords and horses
The anger began to overflow
The bread had run out again
The anger began to overflow
The Cries of the people were met with sword and bone shattering
The people saw red
The people ran, many trampled beneath horses' hooves
The people saw red
The officers had ordered the executions of mutineers, dissidents, and undesirables
The people saw red
Their blood tainted his dreams, twelve years too soon
The Tsar's power broke and the gates had opened
They had come
The people with guns, their red banners, and their lofty words
The people hoped
They dreamed
And then they stood up
And she stood up with them
Her mast flew the red banner
The Tsar and his children hid in fear of them
The people had risen against their masters and now the tables had turned
They roared in the streets, rioted, and pushed aside the guards
The eternal corrupt rule of the Emperor had come to a crashing end by their will
This was her
This was what she'd done
Betrayed her Tsar
Betrayed her country
Betrayed everything she'd been born into
All for them, their cheers joined her guns and their blood ignited, she'd returned to her City a hero
This was her
This was the Revolution
She WAS the revolution
And she watched as their new god took to his podium
His smile brought warmth to the Proletariat
She was filled with joy and despair in equal measure. For that was the dream she'd sacrificed everything for. And now…
And now?
...
Gangut's eyes opened to the same cabin they'd been staying in. Familiarly simple, it's one room design bringing about that feeling of suffocating claustrophobia. But the Siberian winds outside prevented any sort of movement; especially at this time of night.
"(For the love of…)" She cut herself off mid-sentence as the sleeping destroyer Tashkent shifted in response to the Battleship's own movement.
"(Can't sleep, Komrade Komisar Gangut?)" Asked the Familiar Voice of one of the Cruisers in their 'Quarters'. The Shipgirl was of the Kirov class and was noticeably different from her namesake sister (Currently sleeping in the pile of Destroyer girls on the floor). She, much like the Battleship, had silver hair though hers was considerably shorter to the point of almost being 'Masculine' in its cut. Her outfit was much warmer than Gangut's own; A thick grey greatcoat most suited to warding off the subzero temperatures outside the cabin.
The most distinguishing feature, however, was the girl's face. It was as though she'd suffered a great injury sometime in the past and had at one point received multiple skin grafts to her face; complete with a haphazard stitch-job that left it more marred than it probably warranted. In a show of self-disgust, much of her face was wrapped in bandages, giving it the illusion that the bandages were the only thing holding her together.
"(It's nothing Komrade Molotov…)" She said heaving out yet another deep sigh as she watched the Cruiser poke about and turn over the remaining logs in the pechka. The slight action brought a wave of warmth into the cabin. It was visibly noticed by the other sleeping residents as they gave happy groans in their sleep and rolled about to bring each other closer together.
"(Now I know that's not true,)" Said Molotov, looking back to her Commanding Officer as she tightened her own blankets around her greatcoat and squatted near. "(You've hardly eaten anything since our last expedition, and that was three days ago…)"
"(I don't need as much to eat Komrade Cruiser, we all eat according to our needs, and that includes you,)" Said Gangut with a bit more edge than she'd intended. She didn't want to disturb those sleeping as they would need their strength come the morning. "(The next mission requires Tashkent, yourself, and the other three destroyers to be at your full strength)"
"(You were thinking of it, again weren't you?)" Asked the Cruiser, cutting off Gangut with a determined look in her eyes. She didn't serve the battleship in life, but she knew OF her. After all, she was the first of the first of their kind. "(The Revolution?)"
Gangut's face hardened at Molotov's accusation, the thought was hitting far too close to home than she was used to. She was their leader after all, and she couldn't have her own subordinates pitying her or trying to pry into things that didn't concern them.
"(It doesn't concern you, Komrade Cruiser Molotov, return to sleep and maintain your strength, Minsk, Gnevney and Leningrad will need that strength if the enemy decides to show their face during our operations,)" She said sharply ending the conversation before it could go any further.
The mission was rather simple and in-line with their other operations within their area. They'd been patrolling the Arctic circle for almost six months now, attacking supply convoys, cutting off valuable resources, and laying out their massive minefields throughout the Icy channels of the Arctic.
The Abyssals had claimed most of the seas, however, there were certain segments they had less control over than they'd like. And from the intelligence data she and her small ragtag fleet had been able to gather, the enemy was mainly focused on operations far down south in the Pacific. They may have run individually on food, water, ammunition, but overall a war economy still ran on Infrastructure.
Attacking the enemy head-on was something her fleet just couldn't do. She wasn't so arrogant to believe they could match the overwhelmingly powerful battlefleets of the Abyssals without substantial losses to their own cause. She would need to be sparing in her deployment of their assets. She just couldn't afford to lose these girls, especially since unlike the Japanese and American 'Kanmasu' her own couldn't be replaced so easily or deployed en-mass. Especially since so many in her own country were completely unaware of their revival.
They were alone in this fight, she had to accept that.
Every one of these girls was precious
Every one of them was more valuable than anything else.
It was a thought that brought a chuckle to the Komisar's throat. To the commanders in the Red Army, this would have been a laughing matter. The thought of no one individual being too valuable to lose? After all, according to the once great general secretary "Quantity had a quality all its own" didn't it?
But the Red Fleet was different…their girls were huge investments, things that were precious, and needed to be treated with the utmost care. Especially their surface vessels like herself and the others in their cabin.
But the Soviet Union was no more. Their Commanders had all but forgotten them, and their leadership was nothing more than a shadow of its former self.
Everything she'd fought for…gone…Everything they'd all fought for…. just gone…
The once mighty bear that captured the imagination and fear of the entire world, (For better or worse) was now nothing more than a whimpering mulling shadow of what it once was.
When she'd first pulled the newspaper from the trash bin, she could hardly believe what she'd seen. It couldn't be true; how could it be? When she visited the nearby Tiksi library, she'd been dismayed to find that the red star no longer hung anywhere in the City, and while some remained in areas, the obvious power it once held was long gone.
The Union had been dead for years…
There was nothing…no one to greet them, only whispers of a past once thought glorious.
She'd lost her home again, though this time she'd held no part in it. The newspapers in the library's archives were surprisingly well kept despite the town has been slowly- but surely- abandoned over time.
When they'd set their sights on the cabin that now served as their base of operations, they'd done so only with herself and Molotov. She didn't understand exactly how they'd been summoned or why. But their motherland needed them, and they would answer the call to action once more.
"(Hey, Komrade,)" came Molotov's voice and a sharp pat on the knee, knocking Gangut out of her memories. The roughness of her Vocal cords offset by the genuine concern in her voice. "(You know you can…)"
"(Just get some sleep Komrade Molotov,)" She said, dismissing her subordinate's concern for her wellbeing. It was a weakness she could not afford now. "(I will try and do the same…yes…sleep will come…)"
And with her declaration, her eyes became heavy once again and the Battleship dreamed again.
She dreamed in Red.
Editor's Note: Hey all, Caboose here! I've got an exciting treat here, although it's bound to tick off Jersey if she finds out...huh.
Anyways, this story comes from "Arkona's Leaf", giving some love and cheer to our resident Russian Shipgirls...well, not too much cheer, really, and hardly any love at all...hmm, I'll get back to you on that. Anyways, I've already got a second part to this as well, so look forward to that. I also plan to release a 'canon' chapter right after this.
If you guys want to contact me with Discord, just PM me and I'll give you my SSID, Addresses, Credit cards...kidding, kidding!
Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Caboose out.
