Cruising just below the cloud ceiling, the helicopter flew southward. The CH-148 Cyclone, part of Canada's desperate rearmament, was practically brand new, part of a 40-unit order Sikorsky was still working to fulfill.

Not that it feels new, Rear-Admiral John Pierce mused. Perhaps the recent news about the accident in Alaska was getting to him, or maybe the weather wasn't quite as calm as it looked, but Pierce couldn't shake the feeling that the helicopter was trying to rattle itself apart.

In an effort to keep his thoughts off the ride, the Rear-Admiral kept his focus on the terrain below. The window wasn't any narrower than what he'd seen on any airline, and the craft's route afforded an amazing view, when it wasn't obscured by the low-hanging clouds. During the 30 minutes he'd spent in the air, Pierce enjoyed a scenic view of Puget Sound and its inhabitants.

A ferry traveling north, the protected bay allowing civilian traffic to continue as it did before the war. A hazy silhouette Pierce couldn't quite focus on, its seemingly otherworldly nature and large wake betraying it as a shipgirl's hull form. The stout deck of JS Hyūga, moored near the decommissioned USS Kitty Hawk as workers prepared both ships for combat.

The Admiral's thoughts settled on the pair of large vessels, their distinct forms distinguishing them from the other ships stationed at Bremerton.

Not for the first time since he'd boarded the helicopter, the Admiral wondered why the Americans had requested his presence further south, instead of the Naval Station there.

Okay, they hadn't requested Pierce by name, but Admiral Hadia had only been visiting by luck, and had made it clear she wasn't flying anywhere.

That was another issue, and perhaps another reason this flight wasn't sitting well with him. There weren't many reasons Admiral MacKey, CMDR NORAD, would interrupt the schedules of every flag officer in the northwest to fly to an emergency briefing, when a skype call would be faster and much less disruptive to NORAD's operations. Most obviously were operational security concerns, but while a personal meeting in an unusual location would be more secure than an electronic briefing, the Abyssals weren't exactly known for their cyberwarfare abilities.

Some sort of domestic threat, then? Admiral Pierce tried to guess at a scenario that would have the Americans reacting like this, but any scenario he came up with sounded like the premise of a Tom Clancy-branded paperback. The existence of an army of supernatural and genocidal beings may have put serious dent in state-sponsored terrorism, but the number of desperate people in bad situations certianly hadn't gone down, and plenty of nuts were willing to ignore the greater threat to go after someone they actually could hurt.

Still, to compromise NORAD's communications required much more resources than the lone wolf had, and as far as he knew no NGO with a chance at doing so would have a reason to.

Not to mention how localized this all was…

The Admiral groaned, forcing himself to pay attention to the Carriers in the bay. He'd been a little too young for his position even before the world went to hell, but now the late HCMS Fredericton's XO had been promoted far beyond his talents, in his private opinion.

Still, the Navy hadn't exactly been a priority before the war, and even with the arrival of shipgirls and Russian assistance in the Arctic, it had suffered heavily so far. When command of Maratime Forces Pacific had been given to him, losses and reassignments east had stripped it from five frigates, six coastal defense vessels, and three submarines, to only one FFH, two MMs, and a measly two submarines.

Hell, production hadn't even started on the new class of DDGs they desperately needed.

In other words, it didn't really matter if he was the right man for the job, because there weren't many left. Maybe the higher-ups thought a young rising star could adapt better, or perhaps the older officers in the fleet were needed out at sea, but for some reason he'd been given Admiral Hadia and the PM's faith, and he'd have to give his best to see it wasn't misplaced.

After all, Canada couldn't afford another St Laurence Disaster.

No sooner had the Cyclone touched tarmac than the AES Operator slid the door open, allowing John to hop out. An American Airman was waiting for him, snapping a salute as the Rear-Admiral's boots hit the ground. He returned it, and The Airman spoke.

"Rear-Admiral Pierce?"

Her shout was barely audible over the whine of the helicopter's engines. At the Rear-Admiral's nod, she spun on one foot, leaving the other enlisted to tend to the newly-arrived helicopter.

"Follow me, sir."

The Rear Admiral complied, matching the woman's pace as nearby jet engines increased in volume. Soon, the stout form of an A-10 separated from the runway, it's engine noise again fading as stubby fighter shrunk into the sky. Odd, weren't the Americans holding those in reserve?.

"The Commander says he's starting the briefing as soon as you arrive." She said, referring to the Admiral MacKey. "We've got coffee ready, if you need it."

"All of this is very short notice." Admiral Pierce noted, giving a nod as wordless thanks. "Any idea what has him spooked?"

"No specifics, sir." She replied. "A bunch of squids transferred in a few days ago. After that, the 7th Infantry deployed on an unscheduled training exercise and the six Hogs the Idaho Guard stationed here started flying themselves apart." Pierce hadn't been a flag officer for long, but still the twinge of nostalgia for his days as a sub-lieutenant, when he could learn more from enlisted scuttlebutt than his superiors. "They say it's a training exercise, but with you here…"

"I see." Admiral Pierce replied, trying to fit the information together. Rumors from a random airman couldn't be trusted, but there was some good hints there. If the US Navy was involved, this might be more relevant to his command than he was suspecting.

One way or another, John guessed, he'd find out in a few minutes.

As John entered the briefing room an NCO had indicated, coffee-filled cup in hand, he found few surprises. A handful of admirals and generals filled the seats, quietly discussing shop with each other as they waited for the Canadian. He recognised them all, of course, excluding a naval officer at the front of the room, crouched over a tablet. A quick inspection of his shoulder denoted the rank of Lieutenant.

One of the 'squids' transferred to General Hudson's command, then.

At the sound of John's entrance, all but the Lieutenant turned, bringing their attention to the Rear-Admiral.

"Good, you're here."

Pierce's gaze fell on his superior, a stout man a fourth his height.

Admiral MacKey was one of the old guard, a former pilot who'd started his career in the cockpit of an F-8 Crusader and made a name for himself from the CIC of the USS John C. Stennis. That carrier was currently trapped in the Mediterranian, but the fact she could still limp into Naples after blood week spoke volumes of the Admiral's ability. After the Abyssal's disastrous La Palma campaign, and the wave of forced resignations that had come afterwards, he'd been a natural for the position of USNORTHCOM's, and by extension NORAD's, commander.

"Take a seat, Rear Admiral. Lieutenant?"

"Sir."

After Pierce found the closest seat, he looked up to see the American Lieutenant making his way towards him. The officer, only a few years younger than he was, approached him with a sheaf of paper.

"For you, sir."

Accepting the offered packet, Pierce stole a glance at the man's name tag.

MURRAY

That felt familiar, but Pierce couldn't match the name with anything work-related. Looking up, the Rear-Admiral tried to get a read on the man's expression. Either the Lieutenant had a serious poker face, or the O-3 wasn't afraid of delivering bad news.

"Thank you."

Admiral MacKey wouldn't have ordered a personal meeting if there was good news. To get a hint at what kind of news that would be, Pierce directed his attention to the papers he'd been provided.

Wo-E6: "Caisson"

That… didn't help. Sure, an enemy aircraft carrier was nothing to be taken lightly, but against the firepower around Puget Sound? Flipping through the collection of images and captions, he couldn't tell any obvious differences between the provided pages and a regular intelligence file.

Looking up, Pierce took another look at the brass Admiral MacKey had called in. There was Rear-Admiral Martin Chandler, commander of the US Coast Guard District 13, Admiral Abel Chen, of Naval Base Kitsap, Lieutenant-Colonel Samantha Yates, of the Yakima Training Center-

Yakima?

The Canadian was suddenly aware of a pressure settling between his shoulders, a feeling of unease which sharply contrasted with the stoic expression of the presenter.

"Good afternoon."

Lieutenant stood at the front of the briefing room, a projector displaying a white background with a title, flanked by the multicolored seals of the Office of Naval Intelligence and Kennedy Irregular Warfare Center.

Wo-E6: Capabilities, history, and motivation.

"I'm Lieutenant Brad Murray, Office of Naval Intelligence." The man introduced himself with a flat diction that portrayed little emotion, relating information with the sort of passion one would use when discussing economics or weather. "To summarize this briefing, there is a Wo-Class aircraft carrier loose in the Washington area."

"What?"

Rear-Admiral Chandler's exclamation was a whisper, but considering the bombshell the Lieutenant just dropped, it seemed surprisingly subdued. If he didn't feel like he'd just been slapped in the face, he probably would have been worried about that, but now?

"Jesus…" Pierce mumbled, thinking of the implications. Human forces in the Pacific had just seized the initiative with the attack on Bikini, but if the enemy Carrier so much as showed herself in front of the camera, any victories made in the last several months would be forgotten.

He'd be lucky if that was all she did, as well. A single carrier didn't have the strength to enact a disaster like what unfolded at Halifax during the La Palma campaign, but there were plenty of undefended small towns in Washington and British Columbia.

The clicker in the Lieutenant's hand twitched, and the slide changed.

"This is Wo Echo-six. We've been referring to her as 'Cassion', but new intelligence pegs her name as Trinitite. I've distributed the file we have on her, with some annotations I've added given recent events."

A pair of images dominated the slide, each showing an aircraft carrier from a different angle. The first, taken from a low source that barely cleared the waves around it, displayed the ship filling the frame. Her dark hull carved through the waves, her hull fading in and out as the camera struggled to catch the abyssal. Judging by the angle, the image was from a submarine, probably a still from a quick scan she had done at periscope depth.

The second photo was black-and-white film, taken from the opposite angle. At the center of a fleet of abyssal ships, three carriers cruised in formation. The image must have been taken from a shipgirl aircraft, Pierce guessed, as the three ships didn't have the confused dual nature traditional cameras struggled to display. A layman would have trouble separating this picture from several taken during the second world war.

"Due to her behavior up until this point and some notable quirks in her design," The Lieutenant continued, "we've been able to piece together a fairly good picture of her service history."

The Lieutenant turned, highlighting one of the three Aircraft Carriers with a laser pointer. "She can be identified as bearing a similar form to long-hulled Essex Class carrier, without her starboard side edge elevator. As far as we can tell, she has been a part of the Jellyfish Princess's fleet since her arrival at Bikini, defending the Atoll and performing escort duties for her allies. She's one of three Wo-Class carriers which have been observed on regular convoy duty."

Pierce straightened in his seat. He hadn't been too involved in Operation Vision Dawn, but one of the reasons the UN had been so keen on eliminating the Jellyfish Princess was the carriers she kept sending to guard abyssal convoys. That one of them had survived…

This news must have been quite frustrating to some officers in this room.

"When we first noticed two or three fleet carriers guarding a convoy, we assumed they were guarding vital cargo. Patterns in their routes, however, seemed to imply political motives behind their assignment, instead of using the three Wo-class carriers for strategic benefit. Interviews with Saratoga after her rescue confirm this, with the Supply Depot Princess using the Jellyfish Princess's fleet in exchange for favors, instead of reinforcing strategically important fronts.

"Nevertheless, several attacks have been made on their convoys, with mixed success." Lieutenant Murray changed slides again, a new set of images dominating the wall.

"We've sunk several of their transports, but not without cost." The laser appeared again, tracing a line of bullet holes along the fuselage of an Australian F-18. Judging by the distance between the bullet holes, the fighter must have been piling on the afterburners for a bombing run on the abyssal convoy, but managed to get winged by the much slower abyssal fighters anyway.

Despite himself, the Admiral was impressed. Most modern aircraft took damage on their way through abyssal AA screens, when they couldn't spare the missiles to attack from a distance. For a hellcat to successfully intercept a hornet?

It had happened, but was exceptionally rare for obvious reasons.

"We've lost several aircraft while attempting to harass the convoy, while missile attacks have proven less cost-effective than normal. Several submarines we've resummoned credit these ships with their sinking, and while USS Montana claims a solid hit against one of the three ships, she took severe damage attempting to make another approach."

Below the image of the damaged aircraft, the full hull of a virginia-class submarine sat, her battered hull cradled in drydock. Her sound-proof coating was marred by several dark cracks, the thick skin unable to bend with the damaged steel it covered. It looked like some angry god had taken a gigantic ball-peen hammer to several parts of the attack sub, and explosive forces had forced open a jagged hole in the sail.

It looked like it was a miracle the sub had returned at all.

"Task Force Shlau also attempted an attack while the convoy was isolated, but lost a good portion of their air power in the attempt. It was hoped that Graff Zeppelin's experienced air wing could overcome her numerical disadvantage, but it seems Trinititie and her two late sisters had significant air-to-air training from the Jellyfish Princess."

The slide changed again, and another black-and-white aerial image dominated the presentation. Several plumes of smoke rose from a fogbank, flames illuminating what he assumed to be the abyssal weather around Bikini.

"Fortunately, this experience doesn't seem to have translated as well to the Alpha-Sierra's reconnaissance and strike capabilities, as during the battle at Bikini, strikes on the Japanese fleet were sporadic and uncoordinated, and Saratoga reports the US contingent wasn't noticed until the first missile volley hit. We thought she was sunk with the rest of the Crossroads Fleet, but her current presence in the Pacific Northwest proves that intelligence to be inaccurate.

"To summarize, Trinitite is an Abyssal ship with a lot of experience in anti submarine warfare, a solid grasp of air-to-air tactics, and judging by her continued survival, excellent damage control capabilities."

"Sara taught her well." Admiral Underwood commented. Pierce would have wondered how the Commander of US Pacific Fleet had gotten here from San Diego before he did, but the ruffled flight suit he was wearing answered his unsaid question. "I can see why the Japanese wanted her so badly."

"Indeed." Lieutenant Murray replied, before changing slides again. "How she survived Bikini is unknown, but we do know she was in good enough condition to Hijack the fishing trawler Pacific Lilly on the ninth."

Oh, that had happened, hadn't it? Pierce remembered his intelligence officer had said something about a hostage situation, but while it was interesting, a big convoy had arrived from Japan, and the Admiral had too much on his plate to give the incident proper thought. Now that it was relevant, though…

That was unprecedented, wasn't it?

"While it was possible she was sunk during Bikini, and resummoned immediately by another princess, damage to her deck is consistent with that described during the previous battle, and satellite imagery of the Jellyfish Princess's former base shows the majority of it was destroyed."

"Lot of good supplies there" Captain Newman remarked, the commander of Naval Station Everett shifting in her seat.

"Exactly. We know Abyssals can be spiteful, but I find it unlikely the Jellyfish Princesses's rivals would destroy so much valuable fuel and ammunition. It's possible this was a Scorched Earth move made by Trinitite, meaning she's probably working alone."

"Probably." Newman emphasized.

"Yes." The Lieutenant took a deep breath, glancing at his tablet. "There is a chance she could be working under the orders of the Midway Princess or Northern Ocean Princess."

"That's doubtful." Rear-Admiral Martin Chandler added. The coast guard admiral was rubbing his chin, his gaze focused on the ceiling, rather than the Lieutenant. "If they wanted a spy, a submarine could get ashore without anyone noticing."

"How do we know they haven't?" Lieutenant-Colonel Yates questioned. She nervously glanced over the rest of the brass in the room, as if suddenly realizing how many flag officers NORAD had in one poorly-armored room. "Just because this is the first time we noticed doesn't mean it hasn't happened before."

It was a sobering thought. If an aircraft carrier, a capital ship with a reputation of being the center of attention, could evade the grip of one of the most advanced militaries in the world, what could a Yo-class submarine do?

"We don't." Murphy admitted. "Although that's certainly something to consider in the future." Attempting to return to his rehearsed briefing, he changed slides again, the wall behind him now showing a map of the eastern pacific. "Last week, at 1421, the Pacific Lilly, a fishing trawler, was contacted over radio by our Abyssal, who demanded the trawler stop and be boarded. A Civil Air Patrol Orion diverted from its patrol area to trail the Lilly, and was communicating with the trawler when the Abyssal boarded. Upon seizing the bridge, Trinitite notified the Orion of her seizure of the boat, before terminating the connection."

The slide changed once again, displaying a still from a video feed of a fishing trawler. Judging by the angle, it was from the deck of a ship much larger than the trawler, and it was impossible to miss the Abyssal in the center of the shot. The Wo-class, its rigging stowed, stood in the center of the deck, a look of wide-eyed desperation visible even from the distant camera. Despite himself, Admiral Pierce felt a pang of pity he had to suppress.

Always a sucker for a pretty face, ain'tcha John?

"To deal with the situation, all available hulls in DESRON 1 were tasked to resolve the situation. The force arrayed against Trinitite consisted of the Benfold and three of the Farragut Sisters, with the light cruiser Nashville airlifted in as additional support. This should have been enough to deter the Carrier from attempting to make landfall, but she risked a run and managed to succeed due to unorthodox planning, manipulation of the Pacific Lilly's crew, and a lot of luck. I've compiled a more detailed report on the battle based on my experience there, as well as information obtained from other reports and the interrogation of the trawler's crew."

Hold on, Underwood only sent an understrength destroyer squadron? The addition of a light cruiser should have been plenty of firepower, but surely he could have sent a few more ships?

Pierce stopped himself, shaking his head as he refocused on the presentation. Nitpicking other commanders was easy, especially when he didn't have all the information on-hand. Underwood's success in organizing the attack on Bikini and the American contribution to Taiwan's defense showed he wasn't an incopetent.

"It wasn't a total defeat, as we managed to capture two of the Abyssal's pilots, but so far we haven't been able to get much information out of them." The Lieutenant glanced at Admiral Underwood as he continued. "They're currently being detained in Nashville's brig, but it may be prudent to transfer them to the VIP quarters of another ship, if they have one."

"I'll consider it." Underwood replied, and Murray nodded in thanks.

"Once she made landfall, an operation to locate Trinitite was launched from this base. On the premise of a training exercise, the 7th infantry deployed to keep her in the Olympic Peninsula, while elements of the 2nd Ranger Battalion attempted to search for her. To their credit, they managed to catch the Abyssal's trail, but with the terrain they simply couldn't chase her down before she arrived at Shelton, Washington."

The slide changed again, revealing a set of freezes from what looked like a department store's CCTV system. Two women dominated each frame, one in an obvious employee uniform, and the other…

In the first two stills, the second was clearly the abyssal, but after the third still the scene changed from shelves of groceries to racks of clothes, the Abyssal's uniform was replaced by disturbingly familiar clothing.

"On the fourteenth, the Abyssal raided a superstore in Shelton, coercing the store's manager into granting her entry, before interrogating her on the store's contents and stealing a good portion of it's inventory. Worse, the Fred Meyers was closed at the time, meaning the employee was alone in facing the Abyssal. If Trinitite hadn't left her unharmed, it would have been several days before we learned about it."

Hold on-

"The civilian lived?" Admiral Chen questioned. Like Pierce, the commander of Naval Base Kitsap had been quiet up until now, but the news had shocked him, as well.

"She did. When I interviewed her afterwards, she said the Abyssal even thanked her, before leaving."

"Awful polite of her…" John commented. There might have been some cold logic behind ditching the crew of the Pacific Lilly, but these actions seemed suspiciously like mercy. There were serious implications, there.

"It was." The Spook agreed. "I have a theory, which I'll explain later. Until then, I'm sure you've noticed how the differences in the Abyssal's apparel between the four CCTV stills I've displayed. Yes, she has collected a significant wardrobe, and has stolen several cosmetic products to hide her eyes and skin. It's safe to assume the Abyssal is not only dressed as a human, but indistinguishable from one at a distance."

The slide changed again, but Lieutenant Murray had deemed to leave this one blank.

"That's where we are at the moment. Trinitite, a fleet carrier with experience in antisubmarine warfare, and thus trying to think like us and predict our actions, has survived our attack on Bikini Atoll, and then used her experience to bluff her way onto the continental US, and is now hidden among the regular civilian population. Using the information we have so far, I'll provide my theory on her motivation and goals, before turning things back over to Admiral MacKey.

"During the Battle at Bikini, Trinitite was heavily damaged by an Evolved Sea-Sparrow missile launched from one of our missile destroyers. However, she made it to land before the Japanese fleet arrived, meaning they missed her, presuming the Carrier sunk. While on land, she was able to witness our rescuing of Saratoga. As the Jellyfish Princess had no solid allies in the area, and as She'd discussed some of her past with her fleet, the Abyssal decided to search for her former Princess in the United States. What she plans on doing if she finds Saratoga is unknown, but it's not something we have to worry about. She's currently safe in Naval Station San Francisco, and in eleven hours she'll be safely aboard a C-17 bound for Yokosuka."

Lieutenant Murray turned his attention to Admiral MacKey, nodding to his officer. "The JMSDF may have done us a favor by requesting her assignment. That's all I have, Admiral."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." NORAD's commander stood, replacing the spook at the front of the room. Accepting the remote the Lieutenant handed to him, he powered off the projector, leaving him as the sole focus of attention in the room.

"Now, I'm going to have to brief the Joint Chiefs on this incident, and they're going to be asking me what our plan is." Come to think of it, Pierce's superiors would like the same. "As this situation is unprecedented, I'm open to any ideas."

"Hand this case over to the FBI, sir." Lieutenant-Colonel Yates suggested. "With all due respect, this is a homeland security issue now."

"Too risky." MacKey replied. "The more people we get involved, the bigger chance the news an Abyssal roaming near Seattle leaks. We can't afford a mass panic, especially with the convoy here."

It was unsaid, but everyone knew another reason the Admiral wanted this kept quiet. After the loss of Oahu and the La Palma disaster, America's Media and Politicians had been hell-bent on finding a scapegoat. Maybe this new war required new blood to fight it, but more than one perfectly competent flag officer had been forced into an early retirement after they'd committed the gross sin of failing to predict the actions of eldritch abominations. In personal conversations, John knew several former flag officers who would have preferred a death in the line of fire over sitting the rest of the war out, another fate disturbingly common among flag officers.

Glancing around the room, John knew most of his colleagues shared their sentiment.

Knowledge of Trinitite, and the disaster she was causing, would remain safely inside this political phalanx until they had her, dead or alive.

"We've got a lot of shipgirls in at the moment." Captain Kathy Newman mused. Everett's commander sighed, clearly not sold on her own idea. "I suppose we can't send them out to start beating bushes?"

"No, too public." Admiral Chen replied. "Besides, I trust all of our girls, but sharing this with so many ships is asking for a mistake to happen."

"Still, it would be good if we could use them." Admiral Underwood added. "Letting everyone know is a mistake, but if we brief one ship from every group that goes on leave, we've got a good chance of them stumbling across our fugitive."

"Seems prudent enough." Admiral MacKey nodded. "Anything more proactive?"

"Drones." Captain Roland Sullivan stated. NAS Whidbey Island's commander looked towards General Hudson, silently asking for support. "Our abyssal might look human, but she still won't have a thermal signature, right? We won't need much manpower for it, either. An algorithm that flags anything that looks human, but doesn't have the proper signature."

In response the older officer leaned forwards, silently shaking his head.

"I don't see it working. I'd have to commission a team of programmers, and they would need months to ensure we aren't sending battleships against every mannequin, statue and advertisement in Washington." He looked back up, shrugging apologetically. "Even then, I'd want an abyssal to test against, just to make sure they don't overcorrect and filter them out, too."

"Nevertheless, we might need that in the future." Admiral MacKey replied, nodding at Captain Sullivan. "See if you can float the idea to the Intelligence Community."

"Still, they could be useful." Rear-Admiral Chandler added. "If the Abyssal wants to launch aircraft, she'll have to find a good lake to launch from." That was one saving grace. The steam catapult may be an effective way to launch an aircraft fore, but it was even more effective at launching a shipgirl backwards. Only in a sufficiently large body of water, where a shipgirl's hull-form could manifest and provide the mass needed to anchor the catapult, would the device be useful.

"We could automate that, as well." Chandler continued. "Order some civilian drones or cheap live cameras, station them near any lakes in this region, and have them flag us whenever they register Abyssal weirdness."

"That shouldn't be too difficult." General Hudson replied. "The Second Rangers are already briefed on this fiasco, getting them further involved won't cause any issues."

"Do it." Admiral MacKey ordered. "Any other ideas?"

"It's a shame we won't have access to Saratoga." Captain Sullivan stated. "I know the Lieutenant is worried about what would happen if Trinitite found her, but the Carrier would be amazing bait for a trap."

"Hold that thought." MacKey replied. "If we can't find The Fugitive before Saratoga returns, we can use her as a nuclear option. Any other ideas?"

"Sir?"

All eyes in the room turned back towards Lieutenant Murray. Taking the attention as approval to speak, the spook continued.

"I know a good private detective. We aren't on good personal terms, sir, but she's a professional, and will work with us. If anyone knows how to discreetly track down someone who's trying to disappear, it'll be her, and we won't have to get anyone else involved."

A second passed, and Pierce redirected his attention to Admiral MacKey. The old aviator seemed unamused, but it was clear there weren't many other options. Better a single civilian get involved, than hundreds of enlisted and contractors from one of the Alphabet Agencies.

"What's her security clearance?"

"None, sir." Murray admitted, deferring the point, and John thought that would be the end of it. To the Rear-Admiral's surprise, however, MacKey nodded.

"Get her one. In the meantime, Captain Newman?" Newman straightened in her seat. Her eyes widening slightly.

"Sir?"

"Do you have an open office in Everett?"

"We can make space." She replied, the unexpected question leaving an unsure response.

"Good. I'm transferring Lieutenant Murray and USS Nashville to you. Murray, from this point onwards, you're in charge of hunting down Trinitite. You'll be in immediate command of Nashville, your team of analysts, the detective you want, and anything else you need to find her. Keep a low profile, report to Newman, and godspeed."

"Yes sir." The otherwise stoic Lieutenant looked like he'd just been punched. Not only had the Analyst just been shackled with the chains of command, but that responsibility was a hell of a poisoned chalice.

Pierce had finally placed the man's name, as a contributor to several reports he'd read on abyssal psychology and tactics, but he was still fairly unimportant in the grand scheme of the American Navy. Simply, he now was an easy scapegoat, if shit truly hit the fan.

"Any questions?" Admiral MacKey asked, but the room remained silent. "Alright, I won't hold you any longer. Dismissed."

The rustle of shifting uniforms once again filled the room as the collection of officers stood to make their way towards their respective transports. Unlike when Pierce had entered, however, the traditional murmuring was subdued and half-hearted. Pierce was the same. He had too much to worry about for small talk. He needed to reassess the security around Esquimalt, as well as briefing Admiral Hadia, the Prime Minister, and a list of trusted shipgirls he hadn't figured out yet.

Beyond that, though, John's head was buzzing with the implications. A hostage situation was a rather crude method, but it was an abyssal attempting to negotiate with humans. That was progress in a direction he hadn't expected at all, and if you added the fact Trinitite had shown a capability for mercy?

Many of his colleagues would balk at the prospect, but he'd sell his soul for a few more hulls. The world's navies had already gotten used to using former abyssal princesses in their ranks…

…why not some of their fodder?

So apparently NORAD has been doing Maritime stuff for quite a while. Huh. Kinda glad they didn't change their name, but it's a little confusing.

Anyways, this is my third attempt at writing this interlude. The first got trashed because of a critical research error, and the second because it just wasn't coming together how I wanted. It was more difficult to write during a surprisingly hectic break, but I'm back in a routine I can fit writing into, so there's that.

Anyways, this was my last chapter before I dive into the construction arc, and part of the reason why its so long. Before writing, I told myself I wasn't splitting this one. Anyways, expect a bit of a delay (although hopefully one not as long as the latest one) while I get the whole thing outlined out. I'm generally more of a freeform writer, but I want to make sure all of the chess pieces characters are set up correctly before I write it out.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. I'm rehashing a good deal of information here, but hopefully there were plenty of new things to process.