The man had been seated in the hold for quite a time now. Of course, quite a time was between the time he either slept, ate or cleaned himself up during the long hours of flight. He'd departed Osan Air Base situated in the Republic of Korea, hours ago and was due to arrive in Japan soon. Of course, to the officials expecting him, his time of arrival was a few more hours, if one were to take the usual procedures of air travel.
The interior of the hold of the Lockheed Martin C-130J Super Hercules would've been empty, save for the personal belongings of the man on the center of the floor. Fastened to crates and covered with canvas they were a certainly odd cargo, compared to the more militarily application of said space. But quickly the lights of the cargo hold darkened, and smaller red ones along it's edges glowed. The man quickly switched off his personal tablet and deposited it in the bag pack along with all his other belongings.
An airman appearing practically out of thin air, dashed to him, and then motioned to the rear of the hold. Nodding in confirmation, the man fitted on a larger back pack, and with some help from the airman was strapped tight with his equipment for the descent. Showing off an 'ok' symbol with his free hand, the air man mashed a button, with the resulting action of the rear hold creaking open.
Light flooded the open space, reflecting off the man's goggles as he beheld the scenery roughly 7,000 feet bellow him. The beauty of the Japanese coast struck him, with it's greenery dominated only by the white rocks and sands along it's edges, followed with blue water that reflected the sun's rays like a mirror. And at the edge of it all was the new military installation he'd call home, replacing the one he'd had at Hawaii.
A few other airman stood close by his crated belongings, ready to send it careening out of the plane after him. He fist pumped the first airman closest to him, and leaped out of the plane, the sound of rock playing in his head. With his limbs spread out beside him, his descent wasn't as rapid, plus he could control his movement mid air. He twisted around to see the grey belly of the new Hercules that brought him here, stark against the blue cloudless sky, just in time to see his belongings cascade out the rear of the plane and directly above him.
Saluting off, he dived like hell for the military installation, eyeing a particular empty courtyard at it's center. Unbeknownst to him, his belongings already had their parachute activated, the massive fabric surface many times larger than the crate to facilitate it's harmless landing. But the man, kept falling for as long as he could, until he could see the pale windows of the buildings, the light grey of their construction, the red brick of the courtyard and the figure of someone jogging by it.
Yanking his parachute open had the expected effect of it yanking back at him as it caught wind of his descent. Already deciding the entrance he would make, the man landed on the brick leg's first, before rolling and detaching his parachute all in one quick movement as he quickly strode up to the jogging man. Noting his black hair and smaller build the man guessed he was Japanese.
"Knock. Knock.", he began as he tapped on Ichiro's shoulder, who promptly screamed in shock as he twisted around. "It's the United States of America!"
"So I heard the admiral shout earlier.", said Saratoga, dressing herself in her room at the Westernmost side of the dorm building.
"Really? Is that odd, though?", replied Intrepid, her roommate as the carrier brushed the curls out of her own sandy-brown hair.
"I'm the second non-Japanese ship girl summoned, so that makes me more experienced and knowledgeable you know.", said Saratoga.
"And the point you're dragging out is?", replied Intrepid, her feisty nature most likely a trait of the Essex class that only another one of her sisters might confirm.
"I've never heard that man so much as yell before. Japanese posture or something, maybe.", said Saratoga.
"I've heard Tenryuu bellow pretty much though.", grinned Intrepid.
"We're talking about a Japanese human male.", said Saratoga, rolling her eyes at her cousin.
"Okie, Sara Maru.", chuckled Intrepid. "It's no wonder you seem so close to the Japanese-"
Her speech was immediately cut off when Saratoga clobbered her head with a balled fist in a way that would usually make the same sound as an anvil hitting the ground. Fixing to immediately retort at her cousin, age be damned, Intrepid quickly went silent as she stared into the fiery eyes of Saratoga and decided to stay quiet as she figured what intentions lay behind them. The carrier clearly was spoiling for a fight, be it against Abyssal or ship girl it didn't matter.
All the Americans were, in varying states it seemed. As they had so far never encountered the enemy beyond routine patrols and in small patrols. No battleships to sink or carriers to dread. No mighty fleets to face and massive battles to win for those under the star-spangled banner. Despite the fact that the same situation affected virtually every non-Japanese ship girl, it hit them the hardest.
The United States Navy, had grown to outpace virtually the entire world in sheer numbers and size during that war. Their role as the dominant striking force - the hammer on the anvil - smashing everything on, above and below the surface swelled their pride up bigger than anti-torpedo blisters. Yes, that pride that they carried as fighters, as winners and as the embodiment of freedom and liberty meant that in this horrible war they had to be on the frontlines as the shield and sword.
It meant bleeding in those salty waters, attacking and getting attacked. That unfaltering and feral pride that had cultivated from revenge after Pearl Harbour, when those who were still afloat came across the wreckages of their cousins and sisters. Those old breed, Saratoga and Enterprise being among them, had cultivated that pride in every generation of vessel to come under that banner, in order for them to believe that they could win. And when they did, and those battles had been triumphed and those fleets vanquished, only then had they humbled as victors and returned to being the shield of their people and many others.
"Knock knock.", said Enterprise by way of greeting as she entered the room.
"Morning E.", said Saratoga.
"Mornin'.", added Intrepid, her eyes still on the mirror.
"I came across Admiral Yamamoto this morning. He was with another man and requested that all American ship girls gather in the courtyard.", stated Enterprise, seeming slightly amused.
"He must finally have a battle for us. Some Abyssal hide to harvest!", said Intrepid.
"Or a dusty courtyard to broom.", chuckled Saratoga.
But nonetheless the three carriers departed the room only minutes later, having learned it was wiser to heed the Japanese admiral's orders than ignore it later. Of course, it was easier for those who had survived till the end to see their former enemies as a defeated people. Intrepid chuckled to herself in a way that told Saratoga the Essex girl had some crafty idea in that iron cased head of hers.
"What's storming in that brain, Essex?", chided Saratoga. For some ship girls that weren't the lead ship their class name was akin to a family name, or surname.
"Watch this.", said Intrepid as she cupped her hands to her mouth and just bellowed. "All ye' damn 'Muricans rise and shine for the sun wants an appearance!"
It took a few seconds to register just how goddamn insane Intrepid was as she had yelled in the hallway of an American dorm section in the early hours of the morning. Not even the loudest and hyperactive destroyers on base - Shimakaze included - dared venture this side of the building at this hour and if they did, kept to their inside voice wholeheartedly. Nonetheless a door creaked open directly to their 2 o'clock, permitting the image of a rather haggard Alaska.
"You'd better make peace with god 'cause I'm fixing to shovel my foot so far up your ass you'll taste nothing but boot!", threatened the cruiser in a voice colder than the winters of her namesake state. It seems that even the most serene and soft-spoken ship girls did a full 180 if their beloved sleep was disturbed. Needless to say they never had much of such a pastime in their iron hulls.
"Good morning, ladies.", greeted Ichiro, with the man beside him just waving at the approaching group of blue-uniformed women.
They stopped nearby, wary of this new man and looking him over more than once as if sizing him up. This didn't go unnoticed by the stranger however, his chuckle being about the only sign that he'd figured it out.
"Well then lemme introduce myself to these wonderful women.", he said, removing his jumpsuit to reveal the white dress uniform beneath, studded with gold braiding on the shoulder and sleeves. But he didn't let anyone count the bars, or say his surname as he introduced himself. "I am Ryan Everett Decker, Rear Admiral of the United States Navy. But you can call me Red."
"Admiral Red here is the new commander of the American portion of our ship girl fleet.", said Ichiro. "Congratulations, as you are the first non-Japanese to receive an Admiral of your own."
"Thank you, Admiral Yamamoto.", said Enterprise, as she stepped closer to her new commander before bringing her hand up to form a crisp salute. "CV-6 USS Enterprise, reporting for duty, sir. We've also got CV-3, Saratoga, CV-11 Intrepid and CVE-73 Gambier Bay."
If he was utterly shocked at who stood before him now, a slight incline of his head was about the only indication. Nodding at this, Red swept his gaze over the rest of the group, pretty much expecting the rest to willingly introduce themselves.
"DDE-413, USS Samuel B. Roberts. Ready to fight!", said the smallest girl of the group, her glee evident in the broad smile plastered on her face. Ryan really wondered if he could some up the courage to even send her into battle.
"DD-724, USS Laffey. I won't sink, no matter what.", introduced the destroyer. Ryan noted her apparent age to be older than Sammy but still much too young to hold a gun, much less carry naval rifles.
"CL-50, USS Helena. With my 6 inch machine guns, I won't need searchlights.", smiled the cruiser, her teeth flashing in a way that Ryan recognised most predators did.
"CB-1, USS Alaska. First of the Large Cruisers, most flexible of them all.", said the woman, her introduction catching Ryan slightly off guard as he frankly didn't know who the woman was.
"Battleship number 61, USS Iowa. They got me in 2018, but I'm back for a real fight.", said Iowa. Recognition visibly dawned on Ryan's face as he recalled the massive battlewagon who fought on that battlefield and luckily was the only one of her kind to sink.
"I saw you fight that day Iowa. The whole world did.", said Ryan.
"For my country I am the big stick to carry.", smiled Iowa, as a taller woman stepped up from behind. "But anyway, say hello to our fighting flagship. She's the biggest stick around here."
"From paper to steel and flesh, I am here to fight. USS Montana, BB-67.", said the woman, angling her navy blue parasol to the side so as to give a clear view of her face.
"Goddamn.", choked Ryan. He clearly had the most unique fleet on his hands to deal with and that was about all he could say about it. But nonetheless he would lead this fleet regardless, as unknowingly the girls had already accepted him as their own.
Hours, a meal and dozens of conversations later, Ichiro found himself in the warehouse which had the most valuable and unknown object in the world housed inside it. Before him, squatting like an obsidian bulldog, the gateway sat silently. The concern that crept up his spine chilled it into outright worry.
The usually azure waves lapping against the gateway was gone, and with it all manner of sounds. All that remained was a hollow arch of rough-hewn black granite or whatever the damn thing was made of. It had always been a mystery, everything about the gateway was shrouded in mystery and Ichiro had figured out all to quickly since it's appearance that trying to understand the gateway was as if walking in a maze with no exit.
"So this is what you wanted to show me?", said Ryan, looking at the gateway with common weariness.
"Yes. It's the gateway.", replied Ichiro. "The only known means to bring a ship girl into our world."
"I've been meaning to ask this for a while Ichiro, but what exactly happened with this thing. You never really went into too much detail with anyone.", Ayano's question was not the first time it had been posed.
"It came into our world out of no where. But it did grant us the means to survive, and I won't usually question it's existence but now I have to.", replied Ichiro.
"The gateway is silent. That's not normal, right?", said Karen beside Ayano.
"Definitely not.", said Ichiro, before turning around to face the gathered brass on base. "Originally the gateway had boasted one summoned warship in human form per week, every week for the last two years. But since Montana, Z-39 Otto and Shinano were pulled from the sea and broke that cycle, it had been acting strange. An extra week had been skipped before the next summons, and thereafter, it had been two weeks now with no summoned girls at all. And although our roster has over 100 active combat ship girls - a mighty force in it's own right - many still existed without a sister."
"That's bad not on a numerical point of view, but from a morale one, is what you're trying to say. The esprit de corps illustrated so profoundly with the ship girls is at a risk mainly via morale degradation. That stems from being here in this new world without a loved one, despite having had one, two, a dozen, or even a hundred in a previous life.", said Ayano.
"Exactly. Many fight here in this world for reasons other than to just save humanity. They fight so they can survive and buy time until they finally can see the ones who fought beside them.", said Ichiro.
"Is there anything we can do at all?", asked Karen, the concern on her face and in her voice was prevalent with everyone gathered.
"I have a vague idea of how to. It may not work, but it did work the first and only time I did it.", recalled Ichiro, having being prepared for this event everyday since he first realised the gateway may not always be as punctual as a hard working shipyard. "Everyone put your hands on the Gateway."
Moments of silence passed within the warehouse, and Ichiro clearly being embarrassed as he was went a slight tinge of red.
"That's, it?", said Karen.
"That's it.", nodded Ichiro.
"None of that sacrifice offerings, suicide committing or spells on straps of paper stuff?", asked Ryan.
"I feel like my culture just got horribly insulted, but no. None of that either.", replied Ichiro.
"I felt like it would be as complicated to be honest.", said Ayano.
"This isn't some high fantasy book.", said Ichiro. "It's straightforward and simple."
"Explain. The gateway is mysterious enough but it seems to be rubbing off on you.", said Ayano.
"Okay then. What I'm about to discuss is confined to just this room.", began Ichiro.
"Swear it on my Silver Stars and Purple Heart.", said Ryan.
"Good.", said Ichiro. "Back in 2020, I was working at this very base in the capacity of a desk job as Commander. But at that time the long term coastal defensive plan, Operation Monitor was yet to take effect, and hence a Battleship Princess and a small fleet attacked the base, knowledgeable that the bay itself housed numerous vessels and personnel necessary to the defense of the country. After said attack was fought off by submarines the base was in complete chaos, with many destroyed buildings and KIA. In that moment, I had stumbled upon the Gateway, which had literally come out of nowhere in the very spot it is currently standing."
"I was wounded from the attack and realistically thought I was hallucinating from the blood loss, but I walked to the damned thing anyway and touched it.", Ichiro began removing his jacket, and then lifted his shirt to reveal a pattern beneath. "In that moment my wound burned as if I'd been poked by a hot iron and before I knew it, the gateway branded me."
The pattern was directly over his heart, and was quickly recognised as a simple chrysanthemum. Although it's style looked more like a well done tattoo, a light scar beneath it's center illustrated what had happened was not far from the truth.
"I was seemingly recognised by it as authority, and when I came to, Nagato was beside me, hefting me towards the medical station. Later on, she explained that she came from the gateway, and it took me quite a while before I realised the truth, right on time for Houshou to appear as well a week later. After some headaches with the press and dozens of investigations into the matter of the 'Immovable Stone Object at Yokosuka Naval Base' and 'Cosplay Girls Demonstrate Extreme Hostility', I was given a military tribunal to explain myself and my actions."
"Which led to this naval power of 100 plus females on the base that's way too large for them.", said Ayano.
"In short, you touched the damn thing, it saw you as authority and determined you were eligible to command a fleet of naval weapon toting girls.", said Ryan.
"Exactly. So I've been thinking that my capacity of authority has been reached.", said Ichiro.
"But how can your authority have a limit, when the only thing that limited their summoning was time between events?", pondered Karen.
"Apparently, I assume it's because I inadvertantly brought out foreign navies as well. Because I am a Japanese naval officer I should've realistically only be able to summon Imperial Japanese Navy ship girls, and I believe I would've been limitless in that capacity.", said Ichiro.
"So you're saying the other nations were extras that in fact took the place of the Japanese girls who should've been summoned to this world?", said Ayano.
"I believe the ensuing chaos must've caused the Gateway to instead categorise each navy to instead only be summoned through the nationality of the individual it will recognise as authority.", said Ichiro.
"So, you're not overall authority of the ship girls summoned, you're just the authority of the Japanese faction, then?", stated Ayano.
"Exactly, and thus, I believe to remove this limiter we need the Gateway to recognise more individuals as authority.", said Ichiro. "So I'll need the two of you, to touch the Gateway along with me."
Without any haste, Ryan and Ayano stepped forward and joined Ichiro before the Gateway. It was much larger up close, and nothing short of imposing and eerie. That was a given when the only senses that recognised it were sight and touch, as the three Admirals laid their hands gently on the cold granite structure.
For minutes, nothing happened, and dread slowly crept upon everyone in the warehouse as the realisation dawned on them of what they'll have to tell the various ship girls on base. But, mostly the shame they'll feel of explaining to the youngest on base that they wont be seeing and sisters forever. The little destroyer girls would be distraught.
"That... didn't seem to work.", said Ryan.
"It's okay. Everyone call it a day.", said Ichiro, his emotions being carefully shielded by his apparent calmness.
And noting this Ryan and Karen left the warehouse, but Ayano stayed, and stood silently behind Ichiro. She put her hand atop his shoulder. But before her brother could say anything Ayano then embraced him from behind, quickly quieting him. Being his sister, she could easily see the pain, anger and loss on his face, and it struck something deep inside her.
"You always calmed down quickly when I did this.", mused Ayano. Indeed Ichiro's and her own trembling began to dissipate. "You are these girls' admiral. They will listen to you and understand you more than any soldier or sailor and right now, that's what they need. An admiral to believe in when things become unbearable."
"Ill need help. I can't do it alone.", struggled Ichiro.
Ayano only nodded against his back. And after that the two left the warehouse they joined the waiting Karen and Ryan, ready to make the absolutely hardest call they ever made in their entire life and military career.
Many would call it cowardice. If Ichiro were an officer in the navy of Imperial time, his actions would be deemed that of a coward. Maybe it was, or maybe it was just fear or even self-loathing at the smattering of relief he felt at delaying the inevitable.
A commander was suppose to pay for their mistakes accordingly and only in achieving such lack of attachment to oneself were they finally redeemed. But Ichiro truly needed time, he believed. As the extremely volatile subject at hand was one which reasonably required time to think through.
He tossed and turned in his bed at the overbearing thoughts in his head that threatened to plummet his sanity to rock bottom. Ichiro did not tell the ship girls, the entire fleet for that matter, about the apparent shutdown of all summons. Begrudgingly forever, even.
But they were extremely optimistic to believe so deeply in the gateway to begin with. The damned thing was more mysterious and ominous than the deepest depths of the ocean. Depths that more Abyssals than ever before realised could be residing in, until finally they realised the lack of ferocity in their enemy.
Over 100 combat ship girls. But Ichiro knew it would never be enough. The war dragged on too long and the Abyssal hordes stretched seemingly infinitely across the expanses of the Pacific. 100 ship girls could easily be whittled down to nothing, a thought that was like a splinter in his conscious. Whilst 100 mean and deadly warships personified might seem a grand scale, the most effective navy the world ever saw had a truly grand fleet. And only that made it a war winner - numbers.
Ichiro got out of bed, unable to fall sleep at all, and frankly only slightly detached with reality. Most of his actions were subconsciously performed as he had since he became an officer. Fitting on his jacket, opening the collar a bit for his neck not to continuously graze the clothing. Putting on his pants, dusting them off a bit and then his cap, the gold glinting in the dim light of his bedside lamp.
"Admiral Ichiro Yamamoto of the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force Second Fleet, reporting for duty.", he said as he checked his reflection in the mirror, scoffing a bit at the ludicrously high title he earned.
But for an instant, a brief flash of pain rippled through his chest, right over his heart. Quickly removing his jacket Ichiro nearly tore off the sweatshirt beneath as he scanned his bare chest in the dim light. Disbelieving of what he saw he switched on the room light to get a much better view.
His Chrysanthemum was gone. The makeshift tattoo that was in reality the Gateway's branding, his chest was devoid of it. But that light scar was not visible either as it was completely covered by the ship's anchor that had thoroughly replaced the chrysanthemum. A black inked ship's anchor had just miraculously appeared, and only one thing could've caused it.
"Fucking gateway!", he breathed as he headed out of his room, and quickly paced to that glooming warehouse in the center of the base.
"Hey, Ayano.", called Karen as she cocked her head over to get a better look at what she saw. The two were currently in the rather large women's shower which was in actuality only used by the majority of higher ranking women on base, like Nina and Nora.
"Yes, I know they haven't grown and yours are for some oh so unknown reason.", replied Ayano, shampooing her hair with the warm water trickling at her feet.
"No that that dammit!", said Karen. "Is that a new tattoo you got or something?"
"What?", asked a bewildered Admiral as he turned off the shower to get a look at this supposed body art.
"It's rather well done, you should tell me where in Tokyo you got it, I'm thinking of going to see the city myself soon.", mused Karen. "That tattoo really looks similar to your brother's."
Ayano's eyes widened, as she checked her chest and could see the tattoo partially covering the area below her collar bone but the upper part of her left breast. It was a black ink chrysanthemum, an exact copy of the one which adorned Ichiro's chest.
"We have to find my brother!", said the woman with no small amount of worry.
Ichiro made the entire night walk only accompanied by the incomplete moon and the dozens of twinkling stars in the obsidian sky. He clutched his chest all the time during the walk, feeling as if he lost a part of him he would never again recover. But he could not fathom to why he felt so drawn towards the gateway at this inconvenient hour. Ichiro hated to admit he felt like a moth attracted to light.
Opening the warehouse door, the thick solid steel object never getting any lighter, admitted him inside the empty space. But he quickly realised the warehouse was never again the empty space with a creation of creation in it. No, the warehouse itself, never mind the dammed gateway, was now a complete defier of all logic. It seems the gateway's unpredictability was contagious.