It all began with a botched summoning ritual.
/-/
My eyes snapped open, revealing to me a world of near perpetual darkness. Far above I could see faint lights dancing about, tinted an eerie blue. The surface, if I had to guess.
My whole body shivered as the icy cold of the depths chilled me to my core.
Cold. That's something a lot of people forget about the ocean. Deep beneath the surface, where the sun doesn't shine, the water is cold and unforgiving. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to ignore it as information slammed into my head.
Geographical location, radar systems, sonar, displacement, main batteries, secondaries, anti-aircraft firepower, core temperature, boiler state. All of it rushed through my consciousness like a tidal wave, there and gone before I really knew what to make of it. One crucial piece of information did stick in my mind however, considering it was the most immediately important.
I was currently submerged deep underwater, and I was sinking.
I panicked, thrashing about in an effort to rise. My lungs cried out as my legs kicked backwards, struggling to push myself upwards. The water clung to me like cold grasping tendrils of some great beast, weighing me down and turning my limbs to lead.
Something tugged on my ankle, and I glanced down to see a shackle around my leg attached to a long, rusty chain. The links were taught as something from far below me, deep down in the darkness of the abyss, tugged on the chain.
I jerked in the water, almost letting go of my breath in a panicked scream.
Come.
A voice whispered to me in my head. It rattled around like the bones of a fish, pinging off my skull and sending shivers racing down my spine. Shivers that had nothing to do with the cold.
Come to me. I worked so hard to wake you up, you owe me your fealty.
I struggled against the voice, shaking my head and yanking on the chain.
No, you can't leave. Not yet. Not until I hear you say the words.
Yes, my Princess.
The words danced on the tip of my tongue, begging to be uttered. It was like a siren song for my pain addled brain, and for a moment I went slack in the water. Maybe I should listen. Why did I need to get to the surface again?
My lungs screamed out at me, reminding me harshly of my predicament.
Without another moments' hesitation I reached down and grabbed the shackle around my ankle and wrenched it off. The rusted metal tore free from my leg as it was yanked again, the thing from the deep giving another mighty tug. I began to kick for the surface
I see. You are strong of will. It's possible I should have waited until conditions were more suitable to try and summon you.
The voice was angry now, chasing after me like a school of sharks. Deep below me I felt something stir, something cold, ancient, and incredibly annoyed with me.
But it matters not. You are here, just like I wanted you to be. Stop this foolishness now. Submit.
I kicked my legs harder.
With a gasp I broke the surface, taking in lungfuls of fresh, salty air. My bellows roared as the sweet nectar of the sky filled my lungs, my long dead boilers finally awakening from their slumber. Water cascaded off of my body and out from every pore and hole I had, flooding out as my compartments ejected their contents and sealed the hatches. Within seconds I had once again become watertight and buoyant, resting easily upon the surface of the water like I'd always been meant to.
Deep within me I felt my core come to life, thrumming and humming like a powerful beast.
A sharp crack of lightning illuminated the sea around me. A storm was whipping the waves into a frenzy, causing swells as tall as undersea mountains to lurch and crash into each other like titans. The water churned beneath me, bubbles rising to the surface as something from far below chased me to the surface.
You defy me? Bold, I will give you that. But I cannot permit a rival!
I shook my head as the voice scratched along my brain, causing me no small amount of physical pain. I clutched my head and massaged my temples, hoping to relieve some of the stress that was building up behind my eyes.
A swell caught me, lifting me high into the air, just in time for a flash of lightning to illuminate several dark shapes rapidly bearing down on me.
My eyes widened in shock.
Another flash and I saw even more of them, their multicolored eyes staring at me with malevolent intent as they cut through the water. My mind was reminded of sharks to a feeding frenzy, their bows slicing through the waves like the fins of the ocean predator they so resembled.
Without pause I turned and ran. My boilers slowly began to work themselves into a rhythm, their long-dead bellows pumping powerfully as they were fed by my rapidly heating core. I plowed through the waves in mighty strides, turning up a surf of my own as I fled from the things on the horizon.
You flee? Fool, you cannot get away.
I lengthened my stride, and it was only now that I began to realize that I was fast. My boilers were opened to their fullest, allowing me to sprint across the waves at speeds that far outmatched my pursuers. Coiling my legs I practically leapt from one swell to another, clearing the gaping chasm between the two even as more of those things began to crest the swell behind me.
No! Come back!
The voice was desperate, clawing at my mind with more than a hint of pleading. I could practically feel the thing surging forth from the ocean, trying to catch me before I escaped. But it was far too late for that, as I was already under full steam.
On and on I ran. The ocean rolled and bent, sending cold saltwater into my face over and over, but I didn't care. I ignored it and pushed onwards.
Lightning flashed, the wind howled, and the seas grew into an even greater tempest. I was tossed back and forth along the swells, every swell threatening to capsize me. Were I any lesser vessel I was sure that I would have sunk, but I pushed on, my bow cutting through the waves with an undeniable force.
After what seemed like an eternity the sea gradually began to calm. It was a slow affair, with the swells only losing their height inch by delicate inch, and the lightning above flashing ever so infrequently. It wasn't until the waves only came up to my chest that I dared to look behind me. The voice had faded long ago, along with the sense of encroaching dread. The black figures were nowhere to be seen on the horizon, and without even consciously checking my radar I knew for a fact that they weren't following me anymore.
My boilers were almost loath to cool down. After so long sitting inactive, it was as if they were afraid to stop running. I eventually slowed to half speed, but I didn't want to stop. I wouldn't feel safe until I'd put as much distance between myself and those things as I possibly could.
After another two hours of cruising speed -or at least that's what my ship's log read- I finally began to reach the edge of the cyclone. The storm clouds above me began to break, revealing the sky for the first time.
I stopped and caught my breath, hands on my knees as my boilers slowly wound down. My bellows were pumping heavily, trying to cool the poor overheated components. My crew began the process of standing down, the officers bellowing orders to the strange little seamen that composed my innards.
I froze as a ray of warmth touched my skin, and I glanced up to see a glorious ball of fire sitting low on the horizon.
The sun was beginning to set, the rays of light filtering through the scattered clouds and creating a mosaic of light across the sky. I shivered in delight as the warmth touched me, warming me for the first time in my life.
I smiled to myself, a giggle spilling from my lips. Honestly, I felt a little ridiculous, being so happy at just being warm, but it was a brand new experience for me. Sitting up I stretched, letting the corded ligaments in my spine snap and pop satisfactorily.
As the mirth slowly faded I glanced down at myself, for the first time getting a good look at my new body.
My skin was pale to the point of near-translucence, and had an almost oily sheen to it. I brushed a hand down the inside of my arm, marveling at the almost alabaster smoothness of my skin. It was like running my hand around the inside of clam-shell. My fingers were long and delicate things, tipped with tiny black nails that were filed to points.
On the back of my hand and running up the outside of my arms were long rows of corrugated black metal, which flexed and bent easily with my every movement. They were hard and unyielding, almost like black-iron gauntlets, and as if to contrast to my smooth skin they possessed an icy coldness that shocked me to the touch.
My legs were lean and well muscled, clad in long, thigh-high black boots constructed out of the same black metal that was covering my arms and hands. In fact, the rest of my clothing seemed to be made entirely out of the same material as well. I poked at the stuff, again shivering at just how cold it felt. A flick of the finger resulted in a soft pinging sound, indicating that it was indeed metal.
Well, at least I'd have excellent natural armor if anyone decided to start shooting at me.
My hands paused as they settled over the twin mounds on my chest. They were… satisfactorily sizeable.
For some reason that made me inordinately happy.
I glanced up as the light began to grow dimmer, taking with it the warmth I had been enjoying. The sun had just reached the horizon and was now beginning to sink, its massive disk rapidly falling below the waterline. I watched in awe as the brilliant circle finally dipped below the horizon, a final flash of green light illuminating the water for just a moment before it disappeared.
That was my first sunset.
For a minute I was speechless. I was still reeling from my awakening, and from the chase following immediately after, so to witness something so spectacular was more than a little jarring.
I glanced down at my hands again, flipping them over and admiring the duality of the pale white and obsidian black, and in that moment a thought occurred to me: I didn't even know what I was.
On the surface, yes, I did. I knew my displacement, my main battery caliber, and all the other assorted facts about my shape and size.
But that only told what I was like, not what I was.
I glanced back over my shoulder as the rumbling of thunder sounded behind me. The maelstrom I had escaped from loomed high into the sky, ominous and threatening violence. Self-reflection could wait, I decided. Right now I needed a place to rest up.
By the remaining light of the sun I could just make out a blurry shape on the edge of the horizon. It was too low to the waterline to be a cloud, and too motionless to be a whale, which meant it had to be an island.
My feet ached at just the thought of dry land.
Shifting my bearing by six degrees due west I set off again, making sure not to overtax my still recovering boilers. As I sailed I began to send out radar pings, trying to determine the exact position of the landmass and make sure I wasn't being followed. After thirty minutes of sailing I finally got a return hit, a large mass directly ahead that was almost certainly the island. I was tempted to pick up my pace, but a quick jab of pain from my midsection squashed that inclination immediately.
Another hour found me sailing around the cove of a small industrial harbor, only the light of the stars and the pings of my radar guiding me at this point. I glanced around at the scraps of trash and pieces of hull that were floating around the cove. The harbor was completely abandoned, with not a single sign of life or ship anywhere in the vicinity. Plenty of wrecks, though.
Cruising up to the edge of the pier I shakily attempted to climb out of the water. The structure groaned as it was forced to take my weight, and for a second I was afraid the rickety old thing would collapse. But after a few more seconds of protestation, the deck finally settled. With one last heave I hauled myself up.
I immediately began to sway, unconsciously trying to balance myself against waves that no longer existed. I set off down the pier at a wobbly pace, almost holding out my hands to balance myself.
I scanned the end of the pier, eyeing the port beyond. It seemed like a rather simple little harbor town, with small squat buildings and rickety wire-screen doors. As I stepped off the pier and onto the road however I noticed immediately that something was off.
What little cars were on the street appeared to be long abandoned, some even rusted over. The buildings nearest to the coastline had severe signs of damage, and there were more than a few vacant lots with a suspicious amount of debris and ash coating the ground.
The town must have been attacked before it had been abandoned, but by who or what I couldn't say. Most likely the same things that had attacked me.
As I passed by a storefront I froze, the sight of my own reflection gazing back at me making me pause. Walking up, I stared at myself in the starlight.
My eyes were a deep, eerie orange, lit by an almost supernatural glow from within. Leaning close to the glass actually reflected a bit of that light, casting it back onto my face and illuminating my pale skin with a faint orange glow.
My hair cascaded down my shoulders and stopped at my waist, its color a silvery white that reminded my of the moon hanging above me. My teeth were quite the sight. They were serrated and jagged, two rows of them lining both top and bottom of my mouth like that of a shark's. It only took a single exploratory poke to confirm that they were indeed as sharp as they looked!
Ow...
But what really caught my attention was a ring of small horns sprouting around my head like a thorny crown. Perched in the middle of this nest was a strange black fin, angled in just such a way so that it resembled a hat of some kind. I reached up and felt it with one hand, wincing at the coldness of the metal.
It was surprisingly well sloped, angled so that anything that hit the top of my head was likely to ricochet and bounce off. Of course, that wouldn't help if the enemy was firing high explosive, but armor was still armor and my head was a particularly valuable part of my body.
Looking past my reflection, something inside the shop caught my attention. I tested the door and was more than a little surprised when the rickety thing came off its hinges in my hands. Setting the wire-screen door aside I stepped in and pulled one of the newspapers on the counter over towards me.
The headlines practically screamed at me from the front page, and despite the language being Dutch I could read it perfectly.
ABYSSAL PRINCESS SIGHTED OFF THE COAST OF THE NETHERLANDS!
FOREIGN AID IN JEOPARDY!
GERMANY TO SEND OUT U-BOAT WOLFPACKS!
SURFACE FLEET TO AID IN DEFENSE OF CONVOYS!
Something about that first headline caught my attention. Princess. That's what that... thing had wanted me to call her. But Abyssals? What were those?
A flip of the page answered my question.
A slightly blurry photo of a pale-skinned girl covered in black metal armor, looking so eerily similar to my own reflection, dominated the page. Baleful red eyes stared right up at the camera, narrowed and threatening. She was standing in the wreckage of what looked like a cargo ship, the water around her burning as oil leaked from the hulk of the ruined vessel. Wrapped around her shoulders was a twisted monstrosity of black metal, guns, and snarling mouths, all of which were pointed right at the camera.
Oh. That's an Abyssal. I'm an Abyssal.
I shivered.
Well… that changes things.
Reading more, my heart sank further and further.
Mankind was at war with these Abyssals. Due to their near-human size and magical nature, modern military tactics and weapons were next to useless against them. Within the span of but a single year global sea trade had been brought to a complete halt. Nations who relied on this trade to survive had begun to starve to death. Iceland, China, large portions of Africa, and in fact almost the entirety of Southeast Asia was dead. Practically every island that wasn't in spitting distance of the mainland -like the one that I was standing on- had been demolished, ripped apart by the Abyssals. The only countries that seemed to be able to survive were ones with large amounts of land based resources, like the United States and Russia.
Then Japan created these… Kanmusu. "Ship-girls" as the rest of the world called them. Spirits of long dead warships raised from the depths to serve their country and fight off the Abyssals. The Japanese weren't the only nation to summon these ship-girls. Shortly after their initial success they were quickly followed by the Americans, Germans, Russians, and, most importantly, the English.
I stared down at a picture of the HMS King George V and the HMS Richardson smiling for the camera. Beneath the two girls were smaller images of their original ships from the second world war, the grainy black and white images still managing to portray the powerful ships' might and prowess.
I didn't know why, but something about the image of those ships made me incredibly uncomfortable.
I set the picture down for now and went back to the rest of the clippings.
After some initial heavy resistance, the ship-girls had managed to start pushing the Abyssals back, allowing for limited trade between nations to reopen. For some countries it was far too late, but others like Japan and the United Kingdom managed to survive.
In this region -I glanced over at the map on the wall- the North Sea, the convoys being shipped from mainland Europe to the United Kingdom were particularly important, and were primarily escorted by a joint coalition of English Royal Navy and the reinvigorated German Kriegsmarine, with occasional assistance from the smaller Russian fleet, who were only now beginning to put their first summoned battleships to the test.
With the recent appearance of an Abyssal Princess, that trade was being threatened once again.
Which was presumably why this town had been evacuated and later shelled.
I glanced out the window. Even by the light of the moon I could still make out the vicious storm clouds on the edge of the horizon, marking where the Abyssals lay in waiting. Storms followed at their heels, so the papers said, heralding calamity and death for all who beheld them.
I let out a sigh and flopped down into a chair.
All this information left me in quite the pickle. I was an Abyssal, part of a race of murderous super-beings intent on destroying any and all life on the high seas. I'd inadvertently managed to piss off one of my own species, and thinking back on her exact wording she was likely the one who had summoned me in the first place. I guess a little irritation might have been warranted, but for her to react like that….
I shook my head in disgust.
Still, now that I knew we were kin did that change anything? Did I go back out there, apologize and try to make amends?
I thought about the pressing coldness of the waves, how the lightning had flashed across the sky with her every word, and how the Princess's very presence made me feel isolated and cornered. My gut twisted rather violently at that last thought. Being isolated and cornered was something I was distinctly opposed to.
So, that would be a definite no.
Did I strike out and destroy them then? Play like I was one of those "ship-girls" and defend the humans?
I- I didn't know. The idea didn't hold any particular appeal with me either, and the thought of helping mankind left me feeling bitter for some reason. Particularly helping the English.
That thought led to dark places.
My body shook as a yawn almost broke my jaw.
I suppose I'd have mull the matter over after a quick rest. After all, it had been a highly stressful first day. No point stressing about these thoughts when I couldn't even think clearly.
After a quick glance out the window, another sweep of my radar, and a final knock on wood -don't know why I did it, it just seemed natural- I sat back in the chair and evened out my breathing, determined to give my internals a nice long break.
/-/
KMS Admiral Hipper stared out at the horizon as the stars twinkled down on the water. The sea was calm and steady, but reports from fleet command had been worrying. The Abyssal Princess rarely strayed from her main territory a few thousand kilometers to the East, but hunting packs of destroyers, cruisers, submarines and even the occasional battleship were known to sweep out and cause trouble.
One glance at the slow cargo tankers had her wincing. It would only take a single salvo from a high caliber gun to rip right through that armor and sink the ship.
A quick sweep of her radar showed her where all her comrades were, still holding up their assigned flanks. One battleship, the KMS Gneisenau, and her two escort destroyers took up the western flank. Hipper herself was guarding the northern flank, while her sister, the heavy cruiser KMS Blucher, minded the southern flank. Bringing up the rear of the convoy and guarded by the other two destroyer escorts was the Kriegsmarine's only carrier, the ever vigilant KMS Graf Zeppelin.
Which just left the sub-
A splash from beside her had her jumping in place. She whirled around in time to see a small girl haul herself up out of the surf, her tight gray uniform dripping with water even as she shook her platinum blonde hair out.
"Hallo, Hipper!" the little girl beamed up at her.
A smile lifted the corners of Hipper's mouth as she laid eyes on the sparkling blue gaze of U-248, one of the six U-boats joining her on this escort mission. While it was traditionally unusual to use submarines as protection duty, the Kriegsmarine had an overabundance of the little boats, and they had proved to be excellent scouts. They hadn't completely replaced the destroyers, hence the four other little girls present in the convoy, but a nearly invisible ranging U-boat was an invaluable tool when it came to early detection of threats on a convoy like this one.
"Hallo 248," Hipper said with a wave.
A frown tugged at the corners of the submarine's mouth. "I'm not a number, Hipper." she murmured with a pout.
Hipper blushed. "Oh, sorry- I mean Ana. How are you holding up Ana?"
The little U-boat beamed at the use of her chosen name, happy to be rid of that constricting and rather demeaning numeric title. "I'm doing fine, but Emma was starting to get tired up front and wanted to know if we could switch rotations."
Hipper blinked. "Of course you can. You didn't need to come all the way back here just to ask me that. Next time just report in."
Ana was barely paying attention as she nodded. "Danke Hipper, I'll let her know!"
And with that the excitable submarine dove back into the water, leaving the heavy cruiser snorting in amusement. She raised a hand to her ear and tapped her communications tower.
"You do remember we have radio, right Ana? This isn't like the old war, you don't need to maintain radio silence."
The submarine's platinum clad head poked back up out of the water, her eyes wide and mouth flapping like a fish. A blush rapidly colored her face scarlet, and she shakily reached her hand up to her own ear.
"J-Ja Hipper. Sorry!"
And with that she disappeared in a splash of surf, diving beneath the surface of the waves in a fit of embarrassment. Hipper shook with barely contained laughter, her hands clutching the hem of her sharp gray uniform to keep from covering her mouth.
"You shouldn't tease them like that Hipper." A voice said from behind her.
She turned to eye her sister as the second heavy cruiser pulled up next to her. Blucher had always been the softest of the three Hipper-class sisters, with Prinz Eugen easily being the most rambunctious. Hipper liked to think that she fell somewhere in the middle, the truth was that she was hardly better than Prinz Eugen at times.
"And you could do with using the radio more often too, you know." Hipper said with smirk. "We have them for a reason you know."
Blucher didn't respond, instead playing with her braid nervously as she scanned the horizon for any signs of storm clouds. "Gneisenau just got off the line with command."
Hipper's eyes narrowed. "And?"
"There's been a lot of Abyssal activity in the past six hours. A big fleet, massive. Probably their whole force, and it looks like it's coming this way."
Hipper almost bit the inside of her mouth. "Scheisse!" she cursed quietly under her breath. "The Princess?"
Blucher nodded.
"I thought she was over near Denmark? Why's she here all of a sudden?"
"Something must have set her off. The storm around her's too heavy to get an accurate reading of her forces, but…."
Another curse hissed out of Hipper's mouth. The fact that the storm was so thick was indication in itself that the Abyssal force was truly massive. The Princess herself was on the move? That didn't make any sense!
She glanced over to the cargo ships they were sailing besides. "How fast do you think these things can change course?"
"If we change our bearing immediately, maybe…" Blucher wobbled her hand hesitantly.
Hipper sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Even if they did avoid the Abyssals, changing course would put them days behind schedule, meaning more time required to restock and refuel. Not to mention the Brits needed the supplies desperately. They tried not to show it, but the years of defending their island nation from nearly perpetual Abyssal assault had taken its toll on the staunchly proud nation. They needed these supplies, and every day that passed without them was another day that their people suffered.
Germany had certainly chipped its tooth on the English people's "stiff-upper-lip" more times than once during the last war. Hipper respected them for it, and their navy even more so. The English ship-girls were some of the finest she'd ever had the honor of meeting, and that was after brushing up against the likes of the USS Missouri and JSDF Yamato.
They needed those supplies to arrive on time, or as close to it as could be tolerated.
Still, if it was a choice between the shipment arriving late or not arriving at all….
"Order the course change."
Blucher nodded and raised a hand to her ear, hailing the cargo tankers with news. As she did, Hipper tapped on her own communications tower.
"Attention all hands," she called out, immediately feeling the attention of every ship in the escort fleet turn to face her. "We are changing course."
/-/
Just a little something I whipped up with on Monday night. Been editing for a while, already have Chapter 2 ready to go and will be willing to post in the next few days if this story gets much interest. Chiao.