"Just get it done, now if you will excuse me, I have a flank to roll up."
Jersey turned away from the Carrier as the bird-farm launched her Helo's, two-thirds were outfitted for mine-sweeping, while the rest would go after the submarines in the river with Destroyer support as the main thrust moved up-river. And it WAS submarines, plural. No singular vessel would have been able to ghost three entire Destroyer divisions and an attending Cruiser, the only question was just how many there were. More than what the Vietnamese had, surely. The human Kilo-class submarines her forces had practically scuttled were too modern... Though considering Kitty Hawk, maybe it wasn't wise to rely on the era as an obstacle anymore...
New Jersey steamed to the core of the advancing surface ships, followed by the trio of Ta's not assigned to flanking duty; "Leave me." She said.
"Of course Maam, what are our orders while you are... busy?" One of them, Ta-03, said.
"Support and anchor the fleet, you are the only capital ships that are going to be pushing directly upriver. The Destroyers will screen and Cruisers will shoulder the majority of fire suppression, your jobs will be to make command decisions in my absence" Jersey turned to look at the ship, and while her tone retained its commanding air, there was an added hint of sadism; "Do, not, fail, me." The Ta's nodded furiously as they cruised into their new placements along the battle line, as Jersey came upon her very own version of 'Battleship Row'.
"JERSEY! Done corralling the tugboats yet? I wanna break something!" Had any other ships spoke to her in such a way, Jersey would have been, unamused, to put it lightly. These ones however, had been practically raised, by her, to speak this way, and had fully earned the right to.
"Yes 10, they have their orders, fall in with me. Cruise and talk." The Seven Battleships, Ru-1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, and 10, complied, following slightly behind as Jersey cruised towards the West embankment. "Ariel reconnaissance has spotted Vietnamese troops moving in towards the West banks, likely to attempt what they accomplished with the vanguard." In the distance the distinct sound of mark 47 bombs going off made the Battleship-Hime grin briefly, before she continued. "Foolish, they no longer have the element of surprise." She turned to Ru-10, marked from the others by the blackened American flag wrapped around her forehead in a bandana. "And, what, do we do with foolishness?" Ru-10 grinned, showing off her formerly human-like teeth, now filed down to razor-edged points.
"Punish it." Jersey nodded like a school-teacher presented with a student's correct answer as they came closer to the shore. Turning to Ru-1, distinguished by the silvery spiderwebbing cracks creeping from the corner of her mouth, she continued.
"And HOW do we punish foolishness?" The Ru smirked, looking ahead as she seemed to almost vibrate with anticipation.
"Kill them?" Jersey smiled.
"Good answer." Her Rigging, being ridden by the pale Abyssal, seemed to shift oddly for a moment. And Jersey's smile turned downwards into a vicious frown. This gave the Ru's a small bit of alarm, but the moment passed, and Jersey's smile returned. They came to the shore, a muddy mess in all this rain, the rain surge had risen the waterline a good two feet, letting what would normally be grassy undergrowth be swept away by the current.
Jersey's Rigging's right arm punched its way into the earth, hauling itself, and by extension Jersey, out of the water.
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"Let's go for a walk, girls" They nodded eagerly, stepping onto land with the barest grimace, before falling into line with the massive bulk that was Jersey's Rigging, now stamping forward on its massive hands with the deceptively slow gait of an elephant-sized silverback gorilla.
The first sign of their opponents the line of battleships encountered was a human picket, a BTR-152 with supporting light infantry. Placed to notify of just such a flanking maneuver likely. The Vietnamese had had a full two years to grow wise to Jersey's tricks, but then again, the knowledge to counter said tricks was another matter entirely. The humans began to yell as New Jersey's bruisers came out of the undergrowth, trampling underbrush beneath them and bulling any tree's in their path out of the way in showers of splinters, they came on in a straight line through the vegetation. Ru-1 unceremoniously blasted the BTR with one of her twin 6" guns, shattering the armored car and sending deadly shrapnel in every direction.
Two of the dismounted humans died then and there, perforated by shrapnel, or perhaps their organs were liquified by being so close to the explosion? It mattered not, for the other five quickly joined them moments after, turned into mulch by the 37mm AA guns the rest of the Ru's dished out. The eight ships continued on, ambling down the road at an even walk past their smoking corpses, towards Mỹ Thới, the first district on their way to Xuyen's central population center. And where multiple vehicle contacts had been sighted by recon shortly after the initial ambush.
They needn't have bothered, the Vietnamese came to them before they'd made it halfway there, apparently the picket had failed to call them in before their untimely demise, and the push had continued, ignorant of Jersey's 8 girl advance. Infantry came within eyesight first, at least two platoons worth staggered apart in a large sweeping formation. AT weapons were prevalent, at least one per every third man.
"Engage, scattered formation, trio linebreak, maximum collateral damage, we don't need this area," Jersey commanded. The Battleships ROARED in joy at this, slow canter turning into a jog that sent them headlong towards the enemy. The PAVN troops, suddenly head-to-head with the enemy surface ships at yelling-distance, immediately scattered further to minimize casualties from the battleships main cannons. Frantically they began to set up their recoilless rifl-
The battleships were upon them.
A fusillade of rifle-fire sparked off of Ru-1, making a trail of short-lived sparks behind her as the Battleship cackled. She bulled into a trio of men attempting to assemble a Fagot ML, swinging downwards with her right-arm rigging, one of them disappeared in a spray of red, pancaked into the ground with over 65 000 tons worth of displacement. One of the others pulled a bayonet and counterattacked, only succeeding in snapping his knife off at the hilt on the Ru's eye before the massive woman swung back, backhanding him so hard his torso was shorn clear off of the lower part of his body. His legs finally decided to crumple in-place as the last man, scrambling back on his ass, shot at the Ru with his pistol in a panic, the Ru simply raised both her arms before stepping forward and bringing them down in a ground pound. There wasn't enough left to possibly bury.
Meanwhile, the scene was repeated with Ru-3 and 6, the trio of Battleships together engaging the humans in close quarters before they could set up their more effective weapons, driving into their infantry formation and throwing them into a panic as small-arms sparked off of them. The other ships exploited the gap the trio had made, sprinting as fast as their human physiology would allow, spraying in every direction with each of their ten 37mm's in wide arcs before them. What infantry weren't hit by the shots directly suffered shrapnel wounds as the flack rounds exploded around them, Jersey's Rigging just continued forwards at the same brisk pace, passing by a few terrified men who swiftly became preoccupied with Ru-8's AA guns.
"Now now, I know these rice-farmers wouldn't just send infantry, where is the rest?" She muttered, before the sound of heavy diesel engines could be heard approaching, Jersey grinned. "Ahh, there you are."
A trio of Chinese 59's came down the main street leading into the city, irregular's hanging off the hull before frantically disembarking, running into whatever soft-cover they could find. There was no such thing as 'hard-cover' to Jersey.
Her Rigging stopped in-place at the sight of the human MBT's. "Feed?!" It asked softly in her mind, as if it was even a question.
"To our hull's content." ̶ ̶ ̴ ̶ ̷ ̵ ̶ ̵ ̷ ̴ ̶ ̸ ̴ ̷ ̸ ̸ ̴ ̶ ̸ ̴ ̸ ̴ ̸ ̷ ̵ ̷ ̴ ̷ ̷ ̵ ̸ ̴ ̴ ̸ ̶ ̵ ̸ ̷ ̴ ̷̰͎̆ ̶̨̹̭͌̊̔ ̵̖̳͑̚ ̸̭͙̚ ̶̩̥̽̾͘ ̸̙͒͂͘͝ ̷̧̫̂̋̄ ̴̮̔͑͝ ̶̛̦͉͈̈́̈̽ ̵͎̂͐͊͛ ̶̨̪̓͌ ̸̨̰͙͉̉͒̋ ̶̡͎̦̰̽͊̃͠ ̵̢̛̤̣͎̤̑͊͌̃͘͘ ̶̛͉̤͕̹̣̩͊ ̷̨̦̝͍͓̲̜͓͖̹̑̅́̎̍͌̆̆̒͘ͅ ̵̧͙͙̭͙̱͍̐̆͜ ̷̗̲͇̙͇̑̀͜ ̴̡̯̖͔͇͖̙̲͓̼̆̑͐̓͆̓ ̴̡̛͚͕̓͂͆̏̄ ̸̙̍̀̂̓͛ ̶̡̡͔̥̝̟̞̳̜̘͕́̐̏̈́̌̓́̚̚ ̶̢͙͉͒̓̓̈̀́͂ ̴̢̞̰͉̲͚͍̩̺̙̆͋̀̈́̇̾ ̶̬̪̏͆̉̅͊̚͝ ̶̨̬̪̹͚̬̠̜̄͜ ̷̡̯̜̙͚͈̱̹̝̦̒̔̈́͊̿̃̋̾̑͂ ̴̜͒ ̸̨̯͍̠͓̜̫̽͋̉͌́̅̒͊̀̈͘ ̶̡̡̡̦͚̲̯͍̗̗̻͑͌̽̀͝͝ ̶̺̅ ̵̛̭͈͖̭̱̺͉̤̾̋ ̴̡͍̄̓͊̍ ̵͔̮̪̜̼̋̀̈͐̒̃͠͝ ̷̢̧̼̜̊͐̓͐͠ ̶͈̥̗͈̗̩̽̀̆̔̍̚͝ ̵̢͙̰͙̤͕͈͔͚̻̻̚ ̴̢̂͒̂̔́͝͝ ̸̨̧̮̮̞̯̫̽ ̵͍͖͔͍̀͒̄͗̆̕ ̶̦̥̯͍̹̜̥̈́̏̍̔̈̂ ̸̛̬̝̲͕̦͆̔̑̄̎̃̄͜ ̷̤̣̼̮̼̭̭͑͝ ̵̧̨͙̭̳̳̳̋̆̈́̀̍̉̀̑͂̚͝ ̴̡̩̫̜̖̦̙͇̲͈̜̀͂͌͒̓̾͝ ̸̯̥̠̙̓̐́̎̀̐͌̐̕͝͝ ̷̺̣͙̥̻͉̺̥̓͜͠͝ ̸̳̱̗̩̯̤͒̽͜ ̸̹̭̼̄̾̉̅ ̸̠͎̿̊̍̑̌͊͆̊̈́̐ ̴̨̛̓͗̀̈́͊̉ ̶͙͖̙͖̦̤̼̝̣͙̮͒̍̾͗͆͑͌͂͋́̔ ̴̣̥̈́͂ ...
The lead tank brought its main gun to bear, shooting off a round as the turret gunner blazed at New Jersey with his pintle-mounted type 57 to no avail. It began to back up, almost ramming the vehicle behind as the other two tanks made to sweep around its sides, the 100mm tank round by luck or skill took Jersey in the middle, exploding against her and forcing a slight cough out of the Battleship-Hime, and little else. A few irregular's, having dismounted from their vehicle, stood in Jerseys way. Her Rigging simply crushed one under a meaty fist as it galloped, bowling over and trampling the rest in the way, powdering bone on impact.
... ̷̢̧̼̜̊͐̓͐͠ ̶͈̥̗͈̗̩̽̀̆̔̍̚͝ ̵̢͙̰͙̤͕͈͔͚̻̻̚ ̴̢̂͒̂̔́͝͝ ̸̨̧̮̮̞̯̫̽ ̵͍͖͔͍̀͒̄͗̆̕ ̶̦̥̯͍̹̜̥̈́̏̍̔̈̂ ̸̛̬̝̲͕̦͆̔̑̄̎̃̄͜ ̷̤̣̼̮̼̭̭͑͝ ̵̧̨͙̭̳̳̳̋̆̈́̀̍̉̀̑͂̚͝ ̴̡̩̫̜̖̦̙͇̲͈̜̀͂͌͒̓̾͝ ̸̯̥̠̙̓̐́̎̀̐͌̐̕͝͝ ̷̺̣͙̥̻͉̺̥̓͜͠͝ ̸̳̱̗̩̯̤͒̽͜ ̸̹̭̼̄̾̉̅ ̸̠͎̿̊̍̑̌͊͆̊̈́̐ ̴̨̛̓͗̀̈́͊̉ ̶͙͖̙͖̦̤̼̝̣͙̮͒̍̾͗͆͑͌͂͋́̔ ̴̣̥̈́͂ ̸̹̭̼̄̾̉̅ ̸̠͎̿̊̍̑̌͊͆̊̈́̐ ̴̨̛̓͗̀̈́͊̉ ̶͙͖̙͖̦̤̼̝͒̍̾͗͆͑͌͂͋́̔ ̸̹̭̼̄̾̉̅ ̸̠͎̿̊̍̑̌͊͆̊̈́̐ ̴̨̛̓͗̀̈́͊̉ ̶͙͖̙͖̦̤̼̝̣͙̮͒̍̾͗͆͑͌͂͋́̔ ̴̣̥̈́͂ ̸̹̭̼̄̾̉̅ ̸̠͎̿̊̍̑̌͊͆̊̈́̐ ̴̨̛̓͗̀̈́͊̉ ̶͙͖̙͖̦̤̼̝̣͙̮͒̍̾͗͆͑͌͂͋́̔ ̴̣̥̈́͂ ̸̹̭̼̄̾̉̅ ̸̠͎̿̊̍̑̌͊͆̊̈́̐ ̴̨̛̓͗̀̈́͊̉ ̶͙͖̙͖̦̤̼̝̣͙̮͒̍̾͗͆͑͌͂͋́̔ ̴̣̥̈́͂ !
New Jersey grabbed hold of one of her Rigging's shoulder-mounted 16" guns to steady herself as the monstrosity caught up with the retreating tank, it grabbed the turret by the barrel, practically ignoring the shot that came out into its armpit in response as it put its other meaty hand against the main hull, it pulled. The turret came off with a metallic shriek, pulled clear off its mounting by the shearing force of 61 000 tons. The turret gunner screamed as Jersey's rigging swung itself over the tanks main hull with one arm, putting a massive crunched hole through the crew compartment in the process. It jumped at the next tank in the line, and swung the turret overhead like a mual into its front hull, gunner still hanging on screaming all the while. The 59 turret, still carrying the tank's ammunition, exploded after burying itself halfway into the vehicle, causing the entire tank to practically shatter before Jersey's eyes.
The third tank tried a ram for some insanely naive reason, letting off another ineffectual point-blank shot into her Rigging as it came. The massive hulk simply planted both of its fists down and let it, the tank crashing into the beast and shattering its frontal ablative armor against its arms. Jersey jumped off her Rigging's shoulder, coming down to land next to the tank as its treads uselessly dug a trench into the ground as it's engine strained against her Rigging. Jersey dug her hands into the hull of the tank, peeling open the crew compartment, revealing the dazed men underneath. She grabbed one, hauling him out so that they were nose-to-nose.
"Foolish."
She tossed him over her shoulder behind her, hearing his scream suddenly cut short as her Rigging bit him in half. At this point what Irregulars hadn't been killed or dazed by the explosions began to open fire on Jersey from the cover of the neighboring buildings, screaming insults in Vietnamese and broken English.
Jersey grabbed-hold of the tank again, morefirmly this time, and whipped it sideways into the nearest building. Plowing the MBT through the second-story window, where some of the more understandable insults were coming from.
"No, fuck you, my mother was a saint," Jersey replied to the now-crushed slanderer. She looked back, her girls were starting to catch up, having finished dealing with the regular PAVN troops she'd ignored. A few BTR-50's came speeding around the corner, before quickly skidding to a halt and backtracking into the sidestreets. Probably carrying more men into the field. Her Rigging gave chase, thundering past her. Smoke began to choke the street from her Rigging's rampage as her Ru's rushed past her, cackling in glee. Gunfire and screams of rage, pain, and fear surrounded her. Jersey looked up smiling at the raining sky, idly brushing a lock of hair out of her red-glowing eyes as she ignored the small-arms fire pattering against her skin like rain.
Only now, as it always was, in battle surrounded by the blood of humans and twisted, burnt metal. Was the voice finally gone from her mind, she was alone for now, and the Battleship-Hime, the Black Dragon New Jersey, felt at peace.
