Cheryl gave the darkness looming above her hotel room's bed a final cursory scan before closing her eyes and turning on her side, frowning.
Her first encounter with a shipgirl hadn't been what she'd anticipated. At all.
Admittedly, she had made the mistake of assuming from the very start that the first shipgirl she would meet couldn't be anyone other than Haruka, and her plans had since revolved around that belief.
If she moved past the fact that Iowa had nearly – accidentally, she forcefully told herself, while making an effort to rein in the surges of irritation and anger merely thinking about the blonde-haired battleship shipgirl triggered – slammed her through a cinderblock-and-concrete office wall, she could forgive Iowa's irresponsibility and flightiness, she supposed.
Maybe.
What little she had read on the subject of shipgirl behavior in her rushed research suggested that shipgirls were normally eccentric, and fully expected to be so. For all that Summoned shipgirls were more or less experienced soldiers… they were also still essentially children, new to being Human no matter what physical age a shipgirl appeared to be.
Haruka was a shipgirl, now. And everyone believed Yamato was Summoned. Certainly, there were people out there who wanted to think that somewhere underneath Yamato's unyielding strength, courage and conviction was a naïve and innocent young girl, as that stupid porn manga clearly proved.
Ugh. No, she definitely didn't want to think about that. More so since that line of thought would lead right back to Iowa, thanks to that other book.
I don't know… Cheryl mentally sighed. Maybe things would be better if I was a shipgirl?
She considered that. Sure. Why not?
Cheryl tried to imagine herself as a shipgirl. But… what type of shipgirl? The younger destroyers? The cruisers and submarines, in their early-to-mid teens? Or the more… 'mature' battleships and carriers, in their late teens?
Better to start small, so to speak, she reasoned, and her dream-self regressed in age.
Another moment, and she wore the exact same uniform and hardware as the young destroyer whose picture she'd found while researching the Yokosuka Fleet for her report on Yamato… the name-ship of her class. Akizuki. Was that her name?
Well. She didn't have the destroyer's purple hair underneath her sailor's cap, but everything looked pretty much the same – as close as she could manage, to what she recalled of that low-res image.
Her fake cannons tracked in all directions with a thought. Hmm. Probably bigger and longer than the real thing… but there was no point in being completely accurate, was there?
With that in mind, she raised her arms to peer at the blurry torpedo racks mounted at her sides. So much of the girl's hardware was difficult to see in the image, details of steel-gray warship parts against other pieces of steel-gray warship parts muddled further by the resolution or outright obscured by Akizuki's stance.
She concentrated, and began adding whatever details made sense to her.
The Naval Base San Diego Fleet's destroyers, apparently, were holy terrors. Iowa had had to cut the 'tour' short, after receiving a phone call that had her anxiously excusing herself to 'corral some destroyers' – muttering something dire about taffy, of all things, in the process – until a loud bass rumbling and subsequent explosion somewhere nearby caused the world to sway around them, followed by a short column of fire spiking into the skies for a few seconds a block away.
Next thing she knew, Iowa was grabbing a yeoman trying to… distance himself from the scene, and ordering the guy to escort her back to the Admiral's office.
She didn't argue. As a shipgirl and a battleship, Iowa was significantly better-equipped to deal with pyromaniac destroyers and explosions.
The Admiral had said Iowa was the Commander of the Fleet. Well, Iowa could have it!
Did Haruka have to deal with similar problems? It wasn't as easy to imagine Yamato corralling and cleaning up after misbehaving shipgirls.
Cheryl banished the line of thought. While she did admit to being curious about her friend's daily life now that Haruka had become one of the most important shipgirls in the world… it wasn't the best of topics to dwell upon while lying in bed in the dark.
She concentrated once more, and the environment surrounding Destroyer Cheryl shifted from a warm gray void to open water. Clear blue-green ocean beneath her feet, blue skies with minimal clouds, and the only visible land formations were extremely faint blobs of green or brown.
A shipgirl likely had ways to determine what those land masses were, her relative position to them, and whether or not she'd be able to successfully make the trip there.
Destroyer Cheryl tentatively took a single step forward. She frowned at the lack of buoyancy, and quickly adjusted it; this was the ocean, not concrete or pavement.
Hmm.
What scant footage she'd seen of shipgirls actually maneuvering on water, such as the news clips that revealed Iowa and Bismarck's presence at Naval Base San Diego to the world – come to think of it, where was Bismarck? – showed that they cruised not like skaters, but without moving their feet, much like the way their larger metal hulls had once cut through the water.
For a minute, she wandered aimlessly in silence… only remembering to add ambient noise to her scene as she gave up and coasted to a stop.
Enemies. Maybe that was it. Shipgirls were warships. She needed something to battle.
Three wooden Abyssal mockups burst out of the water in a loose circle around her… and then bobbed serenely in place, waiting for her to dispatch them.
One of the first things Cheryl had done upon learning her best friend had inexplicably become a battleship shipgirl was to research exactly what the hell the shipgirls – what Haruka was fighting. Evidently, the things couldn't be caught on film in any way, nor could any of the world's computer or satellite systems detect them. Even radar was useless outside of a shipgirl, whose magic or whatever kept her advance detection and warning systems working fine.
Weaponry, too, as the dark powers the Abyssals used also randomly played havoc with normal ships' arsenals, almost as if the Abyssals could decide on a whim when something would hit them or fail miserably… and precisely how little damage they'd incur.
That left witness accounts and artist renderings as the only information anyone who hadn't personally encountered the demons could obtain, both of which were by and large unreliable.
So, Haruka and every other shipgirl the world over were fighting a war against a demonic enemy fleet of unknown numbers, strength, and size. An enemy that could only be damaged, much less sunk, by shipgirls.
She spun, all of her cannons blazing non-stop, neatly shearing the three targets in two.
…Now what? she wondered. The mock Abyssals immediately vanished, their purpose spent. Target practice was rather pointless in an environment where one had absolute control over her accuracy… not to mention everything else, at that.
Imagining herself as a shipgirl was… okay, she supposed, but without any goals or purpose, the effort would only preoccupy her for a few minutes at best.
Maybe… adding more shipgirls might help?
Whatever shipgirls she added would have to be wholly imaginary, as the only shipgirls she could recall to any extent were Yamato, Iowa and Bismarck. Cheryl wasn't yet confident in her ability to do her best friend justice. She'd had more than enough interaction with Iowa to allow the blonde anywhere near her dreams, and Bismarck… well, she didn't know enough about Bismarck to guess at the German shipgirl's character.
Two more young destroyers popped into existence at her urging, both the exact same height as her and mirroring the uniform and hardware she was currently wearing. Or rather, her 'dream-self.'
'Sister ships,' they were called. When more than one ship was constructed in the same class, they were considered sisters. Like regular Human siblings, shipgirl sisters could share physical and behavioral traits – but most importantly, they often wore the same uniforms and carried the same hardware.
Haruka, as Yamato, had one sister… in both Summoned and Awakened versions, although Cheryl had already forgotten that sister's name.
Destroyer Cheryl's first 'sister' closely resembled her, except with a permanent smirk and electric-blue hair in a pixie cut. Sister number two seemed more meek than Number One, gray eyes nervous behind a pair of thin-frame glasses. Number Two's plain hair was as brown as Cheryl's own, but longer – long enough to reach the small of the destroyer's back.
She stared. Both 'sisters' remained frozen in time, unmoving.
Well, she thought. If I'm gonna go this far, maybe I should do A Day in the Life of the USS… uh… um… Me?
Cheryl exhaled, then opened her eyes as a realization occurred to her. Hey, my family's Air Force. Shouldn't I be imagining myself as a planegirl, or something?
We collectively watched as what remained of the Northernmost Landing Princess continued to smolder, warily keeping an eye out for any other surprises… and trying not to think about just what might be hiding within the thick, acrid dark smoke billowing into the air. It was dispersing well above our heads, but I'm sure we've already breathed quite a bit of it.
The Admiral had assigned me to lead the mission to take out the Northernmost Landing Princess, who'd parked herself here, on the shores of Izu Ooshima.
My force, all of whom had been picked by the Admiral and Nagato, consisted of Shoukaku, Zuikaku, Suzuya and Sendai, plus four destroyers – Wakaba, Harukaze, Hamakaze and Nenohi.
Subconsciously, I raised my right hand, gingerly clasping the fingers around my left arm's bicep, and the torn, charred and bloodied remains of my sleeve and flags.
It had been a long battle, yet while we successfully managed to defeat the Princess and sink her fleet, none of us would leave this battlefield undamaged.
As for me… two of my 12.7cm turrets on my port side had been knocked out of commission, and for the time being, I couldn't move – or feel – my left arm below the shoulder. My damcon faeries had helped me treat my wound and tie a field bandage around it, and were now scrambling around trying to repair or jury-rig whatever they could internally – though I'd have to wait until we returned to the base to have my arm fully repaired.
During the battle, Harukaze had had the misfortune of being the shipgirl closest to the Abyssal when the Princess decided with demented glee that she needed to turn one of us into an object lesson, and began using every shell and plane she could spare from the effort to keep the rest of us at bay to swarm poor Harukaze.
I'd raced to Harukaze's side as fast as I could steam, and interposed myself between her and the Princess. But, in shielding Harukaze, I was offering the Princess a far bigger, unmoving target.
So it was inevitable, that if I or the others couldn't influence her fire away from me with our own attacks before we either pulled Harukaze out of the Princess' range or destroyed the Installation, her AP shells would end up punching through my armor sooner or later…
I turned to glance at where Shoukaku was gently dressing Harukaze's wounds and drawing the destroyer's right arm up into an impromptu sling, feeling my lips quirk into a small smile.
Yes, I mused, feeling a swell of warmth rise within me. Even if I end up being sunk in the line of duty, as long as I know I've done all I can to make sure everyone is safe, I will meet my fate with no regrets.
But not today.
I raised two fingers to my ear, preparing to open a channel to the base. The battle was over, and while all active engagements were monitored at the base, it was still standard procedure for fleet commanders to file after-action reports… particularly as the base can only 'see' half of each battle.
We dispatch clean-up crews. The crews try to erase whatever damage a battle may have inflicted upon the environment, and gather any Abyssal remains they could find. Nobody knew what kind of effects a sunken or destroyed Abyssal might have on the local ecology, so why take chances?
That, and the scientists always appreciated more Abyssal remnants to dissect and study.
I was just about to start transmitting when my radar operators sounded an alarm. "Unknown contact!" I exclaimed loudly, tensing and beginning the slow process of turning about. "Bearing one hundred-eighty degrees and closing fast!"
Thankfully, the others were quicker to turn than me, and faced the newcomer, readying every cannon and torpedo they had left.
A Light Cruiser Princess steamed onto the battlefield at top speed, snarling loudly in sheer frustration. "WHERE IS SHE!?" the Abyssal roared.
Someone groaned at the prospect of having to contend with another Princess in our weary and damaged state… which, of course, drew the Abyssal's attention directly to us.
"…You," she spat, and I had the distinct impression she was burning holes through each of us with her glare alone – or she would be, if it weren't for the horned mask of black Abyssal steel that all Light Cruiser Princesses wore, obscuring their eyes and foreheads. "I have no time to deal with you fools."
She paused. "Then again… I know you will insist upon trying to stop me." Another beat, and she leveled her cannons at us, surging forward. "I CANNOT ALLOW YOU TO INTERFERE WITH MY MISSION!"
"SCATTER!" I barked. I'd already known when the Princess appeared on radar that I would have to assume command, again, so I simply slipped back into the role.
But… it was becoming easier. To take charge. Lead people. Be responsible for their actions, their lives.
That worried me.
I laid down as much cover fire as I could manage, bracketing the Princess with alternating shots from my main cannons. Staggering my fire gave me a better chance to reload a turret without breaking my attack – though it also increased the chances of something overheating. "Shoukaku, Zuikaku. Fall back and try to get some planes in the air. Harukaze, go with them and find some cover. Everyone else, flank and attack!"
And then, inexplicably, the Abyssal froze.
Her jaw hanging open, she coasted to a halt, seemingly ignoring the others' shells glancing off her armor… although she recovered quickly.
Enough to haltingly dismiss her rigging and lift her arms out to her sides. Is she – is she surrendering!?
"W-wait!" the Princess cried, and I felt my eyes widen at the undercurrent of pleading to her voice. "Cease fire! Cease fire!"
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, trusting their crews to keep a close eye on the Abyssal while they waited for my orders.
Have I mentioned that I don't want to be in command? Well.
"Hold your fire," I instructed, maintaining my stance and keeping my guns trained on our foe. Best never to let your guard down around an Abyssal; even if you believe you know what they'll do, they can and will find a way to surprise you.
The Princess tentatively approached me, her gaze not wavering from my face in the slightest, and stopped just shy of the ends of my still-smoking cannons.
"Stay where you are." I hoped that nobody noticed how silly I felt for telling her to do something she was already doing. The effort eased my nerves a little, though – an attempt to follow procedure under unusual circumstances – no matter if I knew full well that at this distance, a Light Cruiser Princess could easily reach out with little thought and rend my cannons or wrench them from their turrets in so many ways. "Do not advance any further."
She didn't react, and continued to stare at my face for another uncomfortably long moment. "It's… it's you," she breathed at last. "You're the one for whom I have been searching."
"What?" a few members of the force shouted in disbelief.
An Abyssal Princess had been searching for me? Why?
She grew flustered when I put that same question to her. "I don't know! As far back as I can remember, I have been… driven, to find you. It would not leave me alone or allow me to rest – until now!"
"So you've been searching for her, to sink her."
The Princess spun to face Sendai, who had been the one to speak, leaving me to wonder if her mask allowed her to see normally at all. And if she could see through the thing, did it block her peripheral vision? "N-no! I mean, I don't think so. Nothing gave that impression." She hesitated, then twitched as she returned her attention to me. "I promise that I won't try to sink you in a horrific and painful way until we figure this out, okay?"
Her forced smile bothered me. I'd seen too many psychotic Abyssal grins and smiles to take this one at face value.
She's telling the truth, though, I think. Whatever forced her to search for me, it's bothering her. Enough to override her Abyssal compulsions to destroy and sink all.
For now, she's willing to set the war aside and attempt to determine why she's being drawn to me. As am I.
It would have to do.
"All I had were extremely vague and fleeting memories of you. Your face. Your voice. And a NEED to find you. Yet I still do not know why!"
'Memories?' I thought with a start. Could… could she really be remembering me?
If she was… that suggested this Princess was actually someone who knew me. A friend or relative? Close enough, to be compelled to find me.
We've read the reports Iowa and her Admiral relayed to us, how an Admiral of the German Navy tried to manipulate Bismarck as a means to her own ends. The woman had been arrested and taken into custody, only to escape and fall into the Abyssals' clutches.
Those Abyssals were somehow able to transform her into one of them, a Re-class battleship whose only thoughts were of sinking Bismarck in the most brutal way possible.
We don't know if this… 'assimilation ability' is isolated to the Abyssal fleet near Kiel – or if any Abyssal fleet can use it. The thought of the Abyssals with the power to conscript any living being in the world into their forces… I shuddered, again, as I had when we'd first read the report.
At least there was no evidence the Abyssals were putting such a horrible ability into widespread use. Every country in the world had been notified, and each of them were quietly re-evaluating every missing-persons case that had occurred from a year before the Abyssals first appeared, to the present day. There were no notable jumps in the reported cases.
The Princess anxiously fidgeted under everyone's attention. Uh-oh. Not good. We've got to keep her calm. And the best way to do that… is to determine who she is.
Someone who might be a victim of the Abyssals. Someone whom I might personally know.
Her mask covers her eyes and forehead, so all I can see of her head is the lower half of her face and her long, dark hair, done up in a high ponytail. That's not enough detail to form a guess; I probably know several people who could fit that description, assuming being transformed into an Abyssal hadn't radically changed her appearance.
That left… what, her voice? Ah, if we had access to a good computer and she allowed us to take a sample of her voice, I could have someone edit out the modulations the Abyssals use on their voices, as they'd done with Oki-chan.
Come on, Yamato! You know her, right? You should be able to recognize her voice even when she's an Abyssal!
I replayed her words in my mind, over and over.
And over.
There is… something there. A familiar something that disappears faster than it appears, that I couldn't quite latch onto. Almost as if the Abyssal ability that made them 'invisible' to regular scans or any attempts to catch them on film was somehow interfering with my memories. But that's impossible. I'm a shipgirl, and Abyssal tricks like those pale in the face of my magic.
Focus, Yamato. Remember, she's someone you know. And she's going to tear us apart any time now if we don't make any progress!
I set myself once more to replaying her words. There's something there. I've almost got it! If I can just–
She turned to look up at me from her vantage point, standing atop her prow. "You have nothing to worry about, Yamato-sama," she called. "I am your shield, your protector. I swear on my hull that nothing shall make it past me."
I gasped, my eyes opening very, very wide.
Operation Ten-Go.
Like every other ship assigned to participate, she was well aware what fates most likely awaited us at the end of the mission… regardless, she eagerly leapt at the chance to serve as my defender.
And I had to watch her sink.
Could it really be her? Why in the world was she Abyssal? Did they capture her on arrival, while she was vulnerable and trying to make sense of everything?
I have to know whether or not it's her. She shouldn't have to endure such an existence. How dare the Abyssals force her to fight for them! This cannot be allowed to continue!
Steeling myself, I cleared my throat to draw her attention. "Would you mind… doing something for me?"
The Princess fell silent for a moment. If anything, the blasted mask was good at concealing her reactions. That didn't stop me from imagining her stare at me in surprise and disbelief, though. "I…" She paused to collect herself. "If it will help answer my questions, then I shall… consider it."
"Please, remove your mask. Let us see who you are."
Our scientists have analyzed the remains of other Light Cruiser Princesses from previous battles in Japanese waters, and concluded that the masks are composed of solid foul, dark Abyssal steel, radiating enough darkness and Abyssal miasma to make even a powerful shipgirl like me ill with enough close contact and exposure.
To my personal horror, the masks are secured through sets of three clasps hidden underneath the rim of the mask on each side of the Princess' head – to six steel catches actually welded to the Princess' skull.
She awkwardly fumbled her way through opening each of the clasps, and I wondered if this was the first time she had ever had cause to reveal her face. Grasping the mask by cupping her hands around it, she pulled it down and away, revealing Abyssal eyes glowing with an unearthly crimson light… and an unsure, haunted gaze.
An armor-piercing pang of guilt lanced through my heart. "Oh, my… it is you. What happened to you, Yahagi?"
"What!? She's Yahagi? But she's… she's Abyssal!" spluttered Sendai, the first to say what everyone had to be thinking.
It occurred to me that Yahagi and I were probably the only ones present who might know it was possible for a shipgirl to become Abyssal, or that the Abyssals would do something so sick and twisted to a shipgirl. I guess the Admiral didn't want to start a panic by letting anyone jump to the conclusion that the Abyssals could easily kidnap and turn them.
Yahagi blinked. "Ya… hagi?" she repeated, puzzled. "Ya… ha… gi. Yahagi. Yahagi..." Fear and worry crept into her voice as she refocused her gaze on me. "Why? Why does that sound… so familiar? I-I finally find you, and now – I'm so confused!"
I was about to affirm that yes, she was Yahagi, and everything would be all right, somehow, when a nagging thought made itself known. Abyssals normally harbored a simmering hatred toward shipgirls. How would Yahagi react to being told she was supposed to be a shipgirl?
Sendai made an obvious show of keeping her eyes and guns trained on Yahagi. "What are you thinking, Yamato? She's an Abyssal Princess. Whether or not she's Yahagi won't make any difference when she starts trying to sink you – sink all of us!"
"NO!" roared Yahagi, her eyes flaring as she again rounded on Sendai. Everyone, including me, reflexively acquired new firing solutions and readied their guns… but fortunately, no one saw fit to escalate the situation into a conflict. "I would NEVER hurt Yamato-sama! I swore I would be her shield. I failed." She drew herself up to full height. "And now that I have returned… I will not let this opportunity go to waste. I must succeed where I have previously failed, and protect her with my life."
That was when her mind appeared to catch up to her, and the Abyssal reeled for a step, blinking a few times. "Uh… what?" she asked, perplexed.
"Yahagi…" I whispered. If not for me, might you have survived the war?
A burst of static, and Nagato's voice interrupted my musing. "Yamato, you have been stationary for some time, and have not logged any updates. What is going on?"
I don't know how it works, but the Tactical Operations computers do a surprisingly good job of monitoring us when we're out in the field. Location, heading, speed… a rough estimate of our damage, and even if… we've been sunk. For real-time updates, the Admiral can also call upon surveillance satellites or drones – though the Abyssals enjoyed shooting down the latter – or have Nagato or Mutsu contact our radio crews for information.
"We… destroyed the Northernmost Landing Princess," I offered Nagato an abridged report, hoping she wouldn't notice my hesitation. What if… that Princess had also been someone we know? "We were preparing to return to base for repair and recovery, when a new complication arose."
Nagato's voice developed a subtle, but clear edge. "What sort of complication?"
"We have found Yahagi, but… she is Abyssal."
"…What!?"
Tirpitz swept her gaze in a full circle, surveying their surroundings as far as her optics would allow.
She frowned at the decided lack of any enemy ships within visual range. "I definitely don't like the way this feels," Tirpitz commented to the members of her force over the radio, on the chance someone was hiding nearby and listening to their conversations. "Stay on guard."
Truth be told, she was growing somewhat irritable; the Abyssals were stubbornly sticking with their damnable hit-and-fade tactic, and remaining on alert twenty-four hours a day to lead sorties whenever and wherever the monsters attacked was wearing at her.
The three U-boats of the Kiel Fleet had to be feeling weary, as well. After her, the trio were the shipgirls most likely to be required to participate in a sortie.
Worst of all, neither her sister nor Prinz Eugen were able to accompany her. Eugen was spending more and more time in her role as the Admiral's aide, and the Admiral had expressly forbidden Bismarck from deploying without his permission.
She'd grown used to them being by her side when facing off against the Abyssals. Her sister! As good as it felt to be called and properly used for the purpose which she'd been constructed, it felt doubly so to be fighting alongside Bismarck.
Even if she did share in the blame for helping to convince Bismarck to lend her strength to the Kiel Fleet, and what had happened to her sister as a result.
But Bismarck was free, now! Mostly. And, their former Admiral had seen fit to give Bismarck every single upgrade Tirpitz had received in her metal hull.
That she should still have. Especially the torpedoes. Verdammt.
Ahem.
What Admiral Reinhold was hoping to accomplish by keeping Bismarck away from the water, Tirpitz wasn't sure. No one had seen the Abyssal battleship that had formerly been Hanne Dietrich – the German Navy had officially stripped the woman of rank after learning of her 'defection' – since the Re-class' cowardly ambush of Bismarck within the city. Maybe, the crazed demonic battleship found some way to sink herself?
Hrm. Right. Wishful thinking.
Anxiously, she cast another glance at their surroundings before turning her attention to the Deutschland sisters.
This was the precise location to which they were expected to deploy. And yes, there were clear signs the Abyssals had recently been there, the landscape torn up and still smoldering from cannonfire raking up and down the coast. Further from the coastline, sections of a few scorched and perforated buildings crumbled.
Both the skies and waters were gray and churning, as they often were when the monsters made an appearance. There were just… no Abyssals.
The Abyssals loved inflicting as much damage as possible, if they were conscious and the slightest bit capable of fighting.
Currently, the only known way to get an Abyssal to stop destroying everything within range was to severely damage or sink her. The demons held no interest in negotiations, and would rather open fire on a messenger or negotiator than listen to anything they had to say.
Tirpitz' frown deepened, her eyes narrowing. Was this an attempt at an ambush? Set up a token attack on the coast, then hide and lie in wait for the inevitable response from the base at Kiel to sink the unsuspecting defenders?
So, then, where were the Abyssals? She didn't believe for one second that the Abyssals had evaporated into thin air after shelling the coast.
If the demons were hiding among the brush or worse, among the buildings, there was a moderate chance someone would report the Abyssals' presence. That left the water – and no member of her force had noticed any hints as to where the Abyssals had relocated, including the three U-boats prowling beneath the waves.
"Fan out, and see if you can find any clues," Tirpitz ordered the cruiser trio. "If the Abyssals are up to something, I want to know. Just don't stray too far from each other, in case this does turn out to be an ambush–"
U-100's shout of "COMMANDER!," broadcast over their radio frequency, was the only warning the four of them had as a dark form exploded out of the water between them.
And in the next instant, Tirpitz locked gazes with an Abyssal battleship wearing a psychotically smug shark's-tooth grin on a very familiar face.
Bismarck was right, the thought crossed her mind. Not that she had doubted her sister – but the story had been a touch too fantastic to believe. Their former Admiral, kidnapped and somehow transformed into a Re-class battleship? A battleship who was now standing close enough that the two of them could position their guns end-to-end?
"Oh, hey." The Re's grin widened, already seeming impossibly large for her face. "Did I catch you at a bad time?"
"Where's the rest of your fleet?" asked Tirpitz, non-plussed.
"I sent them home," the Abyssal replied, shrugging. "They served their purpose. You're here. Now…" Then she turned, eyes moving from one shipgirl surrounding her to the next. Not finding her target, she snapped her gaze back to the shipgirls' commander, anger quickly flooding her expression. "Where is she?"
Tirpitz stood her ground. "Back at the base. The Admiral didn't want her wasting her time with you, since she's only here as a visitor."
"Pathetic. A battleship, bowing to the will of a Human."
"That's our purpose! We're warships. We were designed to carry Human crews!"
The Abyssal snorted, the eldritch flames illuminating her eyes flaring with every surge of her anger. "Yeah, and look what it got us! Left to ROT in pieces on the ocean floor! No, thanks. I've got better things to do."
'Us?' Tirpitz stared at her in confusion. Why was an Abyssal speaking as though she were a ship-spirit? Abyssals were demonic parodies – mockeries! – of ship-spirits, mixed with other monsters!
That blasted grin returned, the parody shipgirl slipping back into her manic, purely Abyssal mindset. "Y'know what? Fine," she sang, licking her lips. "If leaving you a twisted wreck in the deepest, darkest parts of the Abyss, never to see the light again, is what brings her running, then I'm ALL FOR IT!"
Tirpitz lunged forward before the Abyssal battleship could finish speaking, just enough to get a fair number of her cannons within point-blank range and open fire with everything she had.
"Now!" she commanded over the radio, and the other members of her force rushed to add their shells and torpedoes to the assault, giving Tirpitz a chance to place a little more distance between her and the crazed Abyssal.
It didn't last long. Roaring in sheer Abyssal fury like a massive, wounded animal, the Re-class broke through the gauntlet, charging straight toward her.
She resumed firing – but the Abyssal completely ignored the shells striking her and whatever damage the cannonfire inflicted, never faltering in her charge.
Just as the feral Abyssal was to close the gap, the Re-class unexpectedly spun about, her tail whipping upward in an arc like a mace… smashing through Tirpitz' turrets and tearing open a gash in the shipgirl's hull.
The momentum launched Tirpitz into the air, rigging and all, to land unconscious on her back with a loud splash a handful of feet away. At the same time, her adversary's tail continued clumsily along its arc, violently yanking the Abyssal battleship off her feet only to slam her head-first into the water nearby…
Where three U-boats immediately moved in to pepper her with torpedoes.
Deutschland quickly steamed to Tirpitz' side and began straining to pull their commander upright. "Don't just float there, idioten! Help me with her!" she barked at her sisters. "That attack tore her up, and I don't know if she's in any danger of sinking! We've gotta get her back to base and the docks!"
"What about… her?" asked Admiral Scheer, motioning with her chin to the – thankfully – still insensate Abyssal.
"Leave her. The Commander has priority," Deutschland decided, after a moment's deliberation. She tapped two fingers to her earlobe to open the radio channel. "U-100, this is Deutschland. Tirpitz is down, but not out. Can you three keep that Abyssal occupied while we get the Commander out of here?"
"We'll try."
"We start moving on the count of three," she told her sisters, trying with some difficulty to position her rigging where it wouldn't collide with Tirpitz' rigging whenever they moved. "One… two… three!"
"Sink her if you can. I don't care who she used to be. She's the enemy now, and she's already hurt both Bismarck and Tirpitz. Take her out."
Yahagi eyed the approaching helicopter with suspicion.
It was a small, unarmed helicopter, what had once been described to me as a 'utility chopper.' But I'm guessing Yahagi's Abyssal side has already cataloged the ways she can knock it out of the sky and is urging her to act.
None of the members of my force had wanted to head back to the base, leaving me with less to stand against an Abyssal Princess, if it came to that, despite the fact that we were all nowhere near the best of condition.
The helicopter touched down on the beach. Nagato subconsciously kept one hand resting against the doorframe to her right until the rotors slowed to a complete stop, then stepped out.
She'd wanted to rush here after learning we had encountered Yahagi, except as an Abyssal… and I had asked her to bring the one other member of the Fleet who would be able to recognize Yahagi, Abyssal or no.
The shipgirl following behind her hopped through the doorway and landed firmly on her feet, proudly beaming as though she had just finished a decathlon in first place.
Yahagi gasped, and took a few tentative steps toward the shipgirl. "It can't be… A-Agano!?"
Agano's seafoam-green eyes brightened at the sight of her younger sister. She rushed to clasp Yahagi's hands in her own. "Omigosh!" she gushed. "Yahagi! It really is you! When Nagato said Yamato and her force had found you, but you were an Abyssal, I thought she was joking or something. But, kirari~n, here you are! I don't know why you're an Abyssal, but I'm sure you'll tell me later! I'm just glad you're back!" So saying, she wrapped her arms tightly around her sister in a hug, which Yahagi slowly returned. "Especially since Noshiro and Sakawa haven't returned yet…" Agano added in a quieter voice.
It didn't take long for Agano to succumb to the effects of direct exposure to Yahagi's Abyssal miasma, unfortunately. Paling, her body went slack in her sister's arms. Agano flopped to the ground and landed on her rear.
"Ah – Agano-nee! What's wrong? Are you okay?"
The name-ship of the Agano class of light cruisers shook her head to clear what she could of the fog. "Whoa – dizzy. I'm okay, really! Just gotta rest. Yeah."
Yahagi sighed in relief as Agano drew herself up, only missing a step once along the way. She turned to face me. "Yamato-sama… I think… I think I remember everything."
"Everything?" Nagato quirked an eyebrow. "Does that include why or how you are now an Abyssal Princess?"
The Abyssal searched her memories. "Not… really? I remember… sinking… then after that, waking up floating on the ocean like this," admitted Yahagi, gesturing to herself.
Not about to give Nagato a chance to express her displeasure, Yahagi dropped to her knees directly before me, her head bowed low in shame. "Yamato-sama. I was assigned to protect you. I failed. Would you allow this dishonored rounin to again be your shield, your protector?"
As much as my personal instinct was to argue, tell her it wasn't her fault she and I were sunk, I couldn't counter her warrior's code. She had failed her mission by being sunk, unable to continue protecting me. And in her absence – although I doubt her presence would have significantly changed things when the Americans targeted me – I had met my fate as well.
Again, I felt the guilt rise. Yahagi… if not for me…
"We'll have to discuss it with the Admiral, first. He has the final say," Nagato intervened, and I silently thanked her for it. "You will need to speak with him, regardless, if you want to join our Fleet."
Yahagi nodded. "I understand." She tried an awkward chuckle. "It can't be every day an Abyssal wants to become a part of the fleet."
Nagato and I shared a look. "No. I suppose not."
Author's Notes: I wanted to have this ready to go by Christmas, but a scene (and an injury) were giving me grief. So… consider this a New Year's present, I guess?
Special thanks: J. St. C. Patrick, Kevin Hammel, Captain Kurt Hoffman, Sheo Darren
And now, an omake that's been gathering dust (as notes) in my folder for quite some time… I don't quite remember why it was shelved, but it may have been the one I originally intended to use with Chapter 15.
Omake: War in the Pocket
Naka found Yuubari at the training range, cradling what looked to be one of those small metal cases used for transporting isotopes or dangerous chemicals in her hands.
That gave her pause, briefly. But then she simply shrugged and dismissed it; this was Yuubari, after all, and Naka had agreed to the meeting.
She offered the other light cruiser a half-hearted wave as she approached. "Hey, Yuubari. So, is that why you asked me here?"
"Yeah." The gray-haired cruiser raised the case a few inches higher, as though presenting it to her. "I've developed prototypes for a new rapid shipgirl transport and deployment system, and I thought you might be able to help me really sell it to the higher-ups."
Suddenly very interested – one of the major unavoidable hurdles involved in dealing with Abyssal forces was the time it took to get a shipgirl force on the scene – Naka grabbed the case, despite Yuubari's protests, and began to ease the lid open. "And it's all inside this little case?"
What greeted Naka were three golf ball-sized spheres cushioned in foam padding. Terribly familiar-looking spheres, half red and half white, separated by a black stripe that curved around a small white button.
Naka shot Yuubari a half-lidded glare. "These are Pokeballs."
"They are not Pokeballs," Yuubari insisted, snatching the case from her grasp. "Besides, they're prototypes, and the final versions will look entirely different."
"Right, right," Naka dismissed the explanation. Pokeballs. As if everyone didn't already know Yuubari was an anime fan. "C'mon, let's see how they work."
"Well…" Ultimately, Yuubari sighed. She drew one of the not-Pokeballs from the case, somehow expanding it slightly in her hand… and then she tapped the button, flinging the not-Pokeball out above the water. "Shimakaze! I ch– er… I summon Shimakaze, in attack mode!"
Naka's glare returned. "Really?"
The ball opened, disgorging a smaller ball of light that quickly reformed and grew into the shape of a smaller shipgirl – which indeed turned out to be Shimakaze, when the light faded. Shimakaze energetically pumped one arm toward the sky, with a cry of, "Ou!"
"I'll admit it does tend to make the volunteer shipgirls a little more susceptible to commands," Yuubari noted, somewhat sheepishly. "But that's not such a bad thing, is it? Watch."
"Shimakaze! Kage Bunshin!" she called.
The blonde-haired destroyer blurred, suddenly moving fast enough to leave the occasional after-image in her wake. Naka frowned. Didn't that maneuver also give the user a speed boost, in the games? She couldn't recall. Shimakaze certainly wouldn't turn down a free speed boost, at any rate.
"Now, Shimakaze! Annihilate that Re! Shinsoku!"
Naka's eyes swept to the end of the lane, where one of the wooden Abyssal mockups bobbed… and just as instantaneously, Shimakaze was there, loosing all the torpedoes she had into the mock Re-class battleship.
As the resulting fireball swallowed what remained of the 'Abyssal,' Naka turned to find Yuubari wearing an exceedingly smug grin. "You watch a lot of TV in your free time, don't you."
(Note: Kage Bunshin is what has become known as Double Team in the English Pokemon games and anime dub. Shinsoku, likewise, is ExtremeSpeed/Extreme Speed.)