A/N: Excuse me for putting this on top, it'll be mostly to respond to the review so you are free to skip it except for the reviewer mentioned.
JamBasic: First of all, I'd like to thank you for the review, genuinely. And forgive me for being a boomer and a hermit, but I have no idea what you meant by crossposting to S, I apologize so I'd love it if you can drop by my PM to clarify that. I'd be glad to have a chat with you! And I agree that Arpeggio of Blue Steel has little to none in terms of it's fandom, and I would love to change that hopefully. Thank you for acknowledging this story though! It had been stored in my draft for nearly a year due to personal issues, the world building is mostly spontaneous since planning isn't my strong suite. I'm building as I go through with the story.
I also admit myself that the first chapter isn't much, but it's what I could come up with at the time. In terms of impact, I'm rather slow and it's a hit or miss sometimes. Regarding the OCs, I will note that down since I never really had a critic to point out what I'm lacking in some way so I'm thankful yet again to you! And yes, certain OCs will have an importance to the story and I'll try to make them shine as evenly as the familiar characters in Azur Lane. It's somewhat lacking to have less humans so that's what I'm going with here, my writing style is kinda unorthodox in a way. Hence why there are odd aspects to how I convey my story.
Onwards, why a female Commander? Well, I guess I wanted to go for a different route? I'm quite used to female characters personally. I also introduced female protagonists in my other stories in Wattpad, mainly for Girls' Frontline but I do have male mains as well for the book. Also, yes, this book will be focused on war and action so there's not much romance into it but I am willing to compromise if that's what people want. I'm no stranger to it as I did the same for my said book. (No worries, I'm a cultured SKK who also loves Yuri. Even more so when that stems from friendship first. I'll do my best to incorporate fluff to this story, everyone will get their chance. Or if you and the fellow readers have shippings between the characters in my story then I will indulge.)
Thank you once more in return, I highly appreciate your review, more than you'll ever think.
A/N: As for the rest of you, if you did read through this despite my insistence then do enjoy the chapter!
"Sighted Sub, Sank Same." —
Message sent by an enlisted pilot, AMM 1/c Donald Francis Mason, on 28 January 1942. Mason believed that he had sunk a German U-boat off Argentia, Newfoundland.
[Blair, Clay. Hitler's U-Boat War: The Hunters 1939-1942. (New York: Random House, 1996): 482.]
[ USS Autumn - Atlantic Ocean ]
With a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a clipboard in the other, Captain Thomas Halifax walked easily onto the bridge. The familiar sounds of the command and control center drifted into his ears, he chanced upon the crew manning their respective posts and looked out towards the high seas as waves kept the ship rocking slightly. It felt odd for him to be in command of an escort convoy but NAVCOM specifically asked for him as the most experienced officer within the navy, there isn't much room for him to reject the task if it helps training the rookies under his wing currently.
Halifax's eyes met with Lieutenant Commander Patterson, the Executive Officer for the ship. "Captain on deck!" he acknowledged, snapping to attention and raising a crisp salute while the rest of the officers did the same. The Captain touched the clipboard to his temple and gave an easy smile. "As you were."
He settled into his command chair and took a swig of his coffee. Navy coffee was always his damned favorite, the rich, flavorful and warming taste often lifted his spirits during any long trips that needed his absolute attention on the bridge twenty four seven.
Halifax rested the drink down on an armrest before flipping through the pages of the clipboard, detailing supplies of ammunition, fuel, particularly the amount of depth charges the ship had left from the screening duty yesterday.
Although the Autumn didn't score any kill the escorts managed to deter submarine attacks from the transport ships. Cooper and Kidd were doing their best as well, the former having utilized her PBY-5A Catalina complement to scout for possible wakes and periscope peeking out from underneath the surface. Kidd on the other hand worked like the shepherd that she is, having carried a surplus of depth charges of all variants to further increase their effectiveness in Anti-Submarine Warfare.
The fourth and last escort ship was the USS Arrow, both the Autumn and Arrow belonged to the same class of the USMF's newest escort vessels; the Spirit-class corvettes. They lacked the necessary firepower against surface warships in favor of an increase towards ASW, particularly taking up escort duties in the Atlantic where Siren and sometimes Iron Blood submarines lingered to raid supply routes.
Both armed with dual-purpose 127mm gun mounts forward and aft of the ship, 76mm Mk. 22 in twin mounts along the starboard and port side, DARDO twin 40mm point defense mounts along with 20mm Mk. 15 Phalanx CIWS both situated forward and aft of the corvettes. As for ASW purposes, traditional ways were still being utilized to roll or shoot off the charges from the ship's stern or both port and starboard for a wide coverage. However, that was different when observed forward of the ship in the form of 213mm caliber Soviet anti-submarine rocket launcher, similar to the principle of the Royal Navy Hedgehog system during the Second World War. The Autumn and Arrow received two platforms of these weaponry near their bow for convenience, while one mount reloads, the other would lay out carpets of payload in rapid succession.
Halifax had no doubt that these warships were capable in defending themselves to a certain extent, though when it comes to actual combat then that entirely depended on Eagle Union, the USMF could only do so much as a self-defense branch and the small amount of warships they had in service. The Army on the other hand… the Captain was pulled back from his thoughts as a loud ping registered to the ship sensors, he turned his head towards the operators manning sonar and radar.
"Report."
"Sir, we have a blip at bearing zero nine eight, range seventeen miles. We should have detected the contact at our optimum radar range, but it seems the contact appeared only after it's close enough." The radar operator spun around his swivel chair to relay the information, Halifax shifted his gaze to Lt. Commander Patterson, "Thoughts, El-Tee?"
"Possible submarine, skipper. Slipped through our radar underwater and got up to surface for air. Getting ready to come at us."
"Message from the Commodore!" Lieutenant Sarah, the comms officer, hollered from her section as she reads through the message on-screen. Halifax didn't say anything, already expecting her to read out the message.
"ComConvoy to ComEscort, general quarters sounded to all merchant vessels, detected three unknown signatures to port and starboard. Ranging from fifteen to thirteen miles."
The Captain grimaced, "A wolfpack shadowing us." he tapped his finger on the other armrest of his seat, "Have Kidd and Cooper investigate the three contacts, we'll go for the farthest contact. Helmsman, all ahead full, make turns for thirty-eight knots. Right standard rudder to the aforementioned bearing, steady as you go. Weapons, arm the RBU-6000 mounts and prep our depth charges." Halifax picked up his cup of coffee, finishing the drink before having it stowed away by one of the bridge crews. "Bring us up to general quarters."
Klaxons broke out throughout the ship, urging the idle crew to man their posts and remain alert as the hull trembled from the high-speed maneuvers in heavy high seas flooding the top deck with water before flowing back down into the ocean.
The two shipgirls broke off formation, skating at best speed towards the radar signatures. Halifax could make out their figures from the viewport, Cooper sent another Catalina for a better take on the battlefield while Kidd maintained a zig-zag maneuver as she prepared her depth charges.
"We're steady on bearing zero nine eight, sir."
"Very well, remind me when we're two miles out."
It didn't take long for the corvette to reach the nine miles mark at her speed, the Lt. Commander stood by the Captain and muttered loud enough for him to be heard. "Close enough for the five inch, sir."
"Heavy seas, El-Tee, with only a radar bearing… let's have our eyes on him." Halifax denied the request for their gun mounts to fire a preemptive strike. He left his command chair to get a better view from the viewport, looking through a pair of binoculars in hopes of finding silhouettes of the submarines.
"Target's disappeared, Captain. Fell off the radar about six miles out." the same radar operator reported briefly. "Looks like he's dived, sir. By the way the pips faded out." he added.
Patterson shook his head in frustration at the information, "He must've seen us, sir. Got his air and went for a crash dive."
"Pips had him on course for us and the convoy, sir."
Halifax pivoted slightly to glance at the operator, "Give me a course to intercept if the target maintains this course at six knots." the operator worked on his console as soon as he got the order, eyes darting from one screen to another and not one minute after that he looked back up towards the Captain. "Course to intercept is zero nine zero."
"Left handsomely to zero nine zero."
"Left handsomely, zero nine zero. Aye aye, sir." the helmsman parroted.
After much maneuvering the helmsman spoke again, "We're now two miles from intercept, sir." to which he received the next command.
"Slow down for our sonar. Make turns for twenty-two knots."
The sonar operator flipped a switch on his console as he listened carefully with the earphones he wore, pinging the depths with sonar since the submarine knew that the corvette was onto her. He coolly did a subtle turn of his head so that he could face the Captain from his seat, "Contact bearing zero eight eight, range indefinite."
"What do you hear?"
"Contact bearing steady at zero eight eight. He's turned. Looks like he's running from us, sir."
"Any screw noises?"
A bit of tinkering from the operator later he shook his head in response, "Contact dead ahead, range one mile. Still no propeller noise."
"Come left to zero eight eight." Halifax turned back to look outside the viewport, utilizing the binoculars once more in the case that a periscope's sticking out.
"Contact lost."
"Sonar, search ahead thirty degrees port and starboard."
"Searching ahead thirty degrees port and starboard, aye."
The helmsman chimed in, "Steady on zero eight eight, sir."
"Very well."
"Contact bearing zero six six, range indefinite, sir."
The contact had fooled him. The previous report gave her enough time to turn for another direction, "Left hard rudder!"
The Autumn lay far over, taking in green sea and staggered as the helmsman spun the wheel round savagely.
"Ease the rudder."
"Easing the turn. Aye aye, sir."
"Meet her."
"Aye aye, sir. Holding course."
"Report all bearings as relative."
The talker posted by the comms spoke into his mic at the order, "All stations, Bridge. Report all bearings as relative."
"Hydrophone effect, slow revs. Sounds like sixty RPM, sir." the sonar operator — Jackson, as Halifax remembered shortly said before adding, "Range eleven hundred yards, sir."
"Bearing?"
"Bearing starboard zero one. Hydrophone effect. Slow speed, sir."
"Helmsman, standby for rapid maneuvers." the Captain walked back to his original standing position, eyes intently scanning the surface of the water as the ship shuddered against the waves hitting the bow as she ploughed forward.
"Contact bearing port zero one five, range eleven hundred yards, sir."
"Left full rudder."
"Left full rudder. Aye aye, sir."
Everyone was nervous as they waited for what's to come, the corvette eased on her course and nothing happened for the next couple of seconds — which felt like a long time for sailors at sea.
"Contact now bears port zero one two, range one thousand yards and closing, sir." Jackson said, allowing the information to sink in as he sent another ping for the depths, waiting patiently till a response from the sonar reached him. "Contact bearing zero zero six, range nine hundred yards, sir."
Halifax pondered hard on another quick change of the submarine's course it took, something that Patterson didn't immediately pick up as he spoke up. "Sir, he's going hard left." the Captain took a few moments to digest the information he's gathered, and through experience as a sailor he stuck to his gut feeling as the man moved a few steps to the right side of the viewport.
Halifax took a sudden decision.
"Right full rudder."
There was a fifth of a second's hesitation in the helmsman's reply; the tiniest sharp note of surprise or protest present in his tone. The change of course would mean breaking away from battle. The helmsman— Lewis, if Halifax remembered correctly; spun the wheel round clockwise, the Autumn lurched, rolled, shipping a hundred tons of water as her circular momentum was abruptly nullified and then reversed.
The Autumn wallowed as she made her turn, shipping green water.
"Contact bearing indefinite, sir."
"Very well."
"Ease the rudder. Meet her," ordered Halifax.
Autumn had now completed her turn. Lewis repeated the order, and Autumn steadied herself.
"Contact bearing port zero two. Range eight hundred yards," said Jackson.
"Very well."
The maneuver was successful. Autumn's turn had anticipated the submarine's own, closing the distance of the two. Though the contact might still be turning, probably was; hopefully she would continue across the Autumn's bow to shave more distance.
"Contact bearing dead ahead. Up Doppler,"
The Doppler effect indicated that she and the submarine were right in line, on the same course; in other words Autumn was on the submarine's tail and overmatching her at their difference in speed, six knots or so, and less than half a mile behind. It would take four minutes before they're right over her. The thought of letting Autumn's maximum speed overtake the submarine crossed Halifax's mind, so they could leap the distance, but he held back that temptation since the increase in speed would disrupt their sonar capability.
"Contact bearing starboard zero one. Range seven hundred. Up Doppler."
They were catching up rapidly. The Doppler effect and the small change of bearing indicated that she was not turning at the moment Jackson got the last echo. The Captain has to decide again, attempting to guess the submarine's next move, whether she's going to lunge or feint another turn.
"Right standard rudder."
"Right standard rudder, aye."
At the moment of the reply the talker reported.
"Contact bearing starboard zero two. Range six hundred yards."
Only six hundred yards between them; not wide of a turn, then.
Halifax motioned for Lieutenant Eric Nostrum's attention, torpedo officer and assistant gunnery officer, who was standing by the corner of the Weapons Officer post.
"Stand by for medium pattern."
"Aye aye, sir. Manned and ready."
Eric spoke into his mouthpiece. The handling of ships at sea made time seem faster and faster as the crisis approached.
"Contact bearing port one one. Range six hundred."
Bearing's changed again, the Autumn's turn had been incomplete from the previous echo. Eric was standing tense, waiting. The next report would decide the outcome of this cat and mouse game.
"Contact bearing port one one. Range five hundred yards."
It was a constant bearing, with the range closing. The submarine's turn had been anticipated as the two were heading straight for a mutual rendezvous, one where death might make a third wheel. A brief glance at Eric and he was clenching his hands.
"Contact dead ahead. Range close!"
The calmness from Jackson was gone; his voice rose an octave and cracked.
"Fire!" bellowed Halifax, pointing towards Eric, and the Lieutenant spoke the order into his mouthpiece. This was the moment for them to pounce.
"Fire one!" said Eric. "Fire two! Fire three!"
The bearing alternating meant that the submarine knew the rapidly closing distance, and with a final attempt, turned straight for the Autumn to surprise her by passing an opposite course and cutting the distance. That "Range close" meant three hundred yards or so—the smallest range at which sonar could function. The submarine might as well be passing underneath them, right under Halifax's very feet. The depth charges rumbled down off the racks, sinking through the opaque sea, if the drops were late then they would explode harmlessly astern of the submarine. But the submarine might still be forward of the Autumn, heading aft, and in that case the depth charges would burst all about her if the depth setting were anything like correct, and would crush her fragile hull. Yet she might not even be passing directly below; she might be a hundred yards to port or to starboard. The double bark of the K guns at that moment told how further depth charges were being flung out on either side of the ship in anticipation of this possible scenario. They might catch her with this drop pattern, like firing a shotgun into a pitch-dark room to hit a dodging man inside. It was as brutal.
Halifax strode outside onto the wing of the bridge as the K gun almost directly beneath him went off. The grayish white cylinder it had launched into the air hung in his sight for an instant before dropping with a splash into the sea. As it fell the sea far behind the Autumn's wake blossomed into a vast creamy crater, from the center of which sprouted a tower of white foam; Halifax heard the enormous but muffled boom of the underwater explosion. The tower of the foam hung, about to disperse and drop, when another crater opened, and another tower shot out of the sea, and another on one side, and another on the other. It looked as if nothing could possibly live in the ellipse of tortured water, yet there was no dripping hull emerging, no huge bubbles, nor oil. The odds of a single depth charge pattern scoring a hit was at least ten to one. It would've been fortunate for the Autumn to kill her prey with that drop.
Halifax entered the bridge once more as he ordered, "Right full rudder."
"Right full rudder, aye."
"Sonar apparatus temporarily out of action, sir." Jackson took off his headphones.
"Very well."
Sonar, it was as delicate as a human ear, now deafened for a time by the underwater explosions. The Autumn was coming back round in a tight circle, not fast enough for Halifax's impatience. Several minutes were ample time for the submarine—if she were uninjured—to crank her propellers as fast as she could for an escape. Sonar wouldn't be able to pick her up if she had gone off more than a mile away.
"Back on reverse course, sir." reported Lewis.
"Very well. Start pinging."
"Sonar reports no contact, sir."
The Captain sighed silently, making a plot course back for the convoy since only Arrow was manning the station as escort. Kidd had reported a kill when she made her drop on one of the three unknown contacts, the other two were chased off by Cooper and her Catalina. No doubt the wolfpack would try to regain their strength and gather more submarines for the next raid later, at night, where the convoy would be more vulnerable in the darkness.
"Distant contact detected, sir!" said Jackson, having returned to his duties as his voice was several tones higher with excitement. "Port two zero. Range indefinite."
The tension within the bridge tightened once more.
"Right standard rudder to course one nine two."
The helmsman repeated the order.
Autumn came round; Halifax was looking at Kidd through his binoculars. He could have her skate forward towards the contact or keep her where she was to keep the convoy safe from possible breaches.
"Distant contact one nine zero. Range indefinite."
Halifax was tempted to nag at Jackson, to question him if he could do better than that "Range indefinite." But he knew that the operator was doing his darn best, enough to keep him from prodding; which could disturb his focus.
A sudden yell from the lookout forward of the bridge brought Halifax out from his thoughts.
"Periscope! Dead ahead!"
He was on the bridge's wing in an instant, before the last word was uttered, glasses brought up to his eyes, spying the surface of the ocean.
"How far?"
"Gone now, sir. 'Bout a mile, sir."
"Gone? You sure it's a periscope?"
"Positive, sir. Dead ahead."
"A periscope or a feather?"
"Periscope, sir. Certain. Couldn't mistake it for another. Six feet of it, sir."
"Very well. Thank you, keep on looking."
"Aye aye, sir."
It's very likely that the lookout had seen what he said he saw. The submarine would be desperate for information to get bearings of her foes, bringing up her periscope to do a sweep. And with the current sea conditions she would expose plenty of her periscope. That six feet the lookout reported was not at all an unlikely figure.
Halifax walked back inside, heading over to the radio telephone; the T.B.S; Talk Between Ships. He spoke into the T.B.S.
"Autumn to Kidd. Autumn to Kidd. Do you hear me?"
"Kidd to Autumn," bleated the T.B.S. "I hear you, sir."
"I have a contact dead ahead of me, bearing one nine zero."
"Bearing one nine zero, sir."
"Range about a mile."
"Range about a mile, sir."
"Sighted his periscope there a minute ago."
"Yes, sir."
"Leave your station and give us a hand."
"Come and give a hand. Aye aye, sir."
Kidd could cover the five miles between her and the submarine in ten minutes, if she set her mind to it.
"Sonar reports contact dead ahead, sir. Range indefinite." the talker stood close to him, reporting what Jackson could inform from his station.
"Very well."
With the glasses to his eyes he swept the horizon again. The convoy seemed to be in order from what he could observe. He went for the T.B.S. again.
"Autumn to Arrow. Autumn to Cooper. Do you hear me?"
He heard the bleated answers.
"I am seven miles from the convoy bearing zero eight five from it. I've called Kidd to join me in chasing a contact."
"Yes, sir."
"Aye, sir."
"You two must screen the convoy."
"Wilco."
"Affirmative, sir."
The talker at Halifax's elbow broke into the conversation.
"Sonar reports no contact, sir."
"Very well." he replied with those words over his shoulder before continuing his order as convoy commander. "Arrow, patrol all the port half, front and flank."
"Port half. Aye aye, sir."
"Cooper, take the starboard half."
"Aye aye, sir."
"Over."
"Sonar reports no contact still, sir." said the talker again.
"Very well."
Having called Kidd from her screening duties stretched the defenses of the convoy to the utmost, he was greeted with the news that they've lost their contact. But he hoped that Jackson would recover the submarine's signature. Kidd was much more plainly in view now, the shipgirl skating up fast and heading to cross Autumn's course some distance ahead.
"Captain to Sonar. A friendly destroyer will be crossing our bows in approximately seven minutes." the talker repeated the message as Halifax went to the T.B.S. again.
"Autumn to Kidd. Autumn to Kidd."
"Kidd to Autumn. I hear you."
"Contact lost at present."
"Aye aye, sir."
The talker was speaking now.
"Sonar answers—" the talker paused as a new message came through his earphones. "Faint contact. One nine four."
"Very well." There's no time to be excited with the regained contact. "Autumn to Kidd. Contact regained, five degrees on our starboard bow. I am turning to follow it."
"Aye aye, sir."
There's no doubt that the submarine was changing her course and depth in an attempt to shake off her pursuer. She may not have heard Kidd approaching yet.
"Kidd to Autumn."
"Autumn to Kidd. Go ahead." said Halifax.
"I am reducing speed to twelve knots, sir."
"Twelve knots. Very well."
As Kidd slowed down, her sonar came into action; making her approach all the more difficult for the submarine to detect. Kidd had come up as fast as she could. She was an old hand at the anti-submarine game.
"Sonar reports no contact, sir."
"Very well."
Kidd was four miles off if Halifax had to estimate, and the two ships were converging. The bridge was silent, save for the sound of the sea and the monotonous pinging of the sonar. The Autumn must have traveled nearly a mile since the last reported contact. Should the submarine had made a radical course change, the bearing would by now be changing quickly.
"Two zero five!" exclaimed the talker. Halifax headed over to the T.B.S. in a hurry, "Take the conn, Mr. Patterson." said the Captain, he had two ships to direct at the moment. As calm as he was, the man addressed the T.B.S. as it was an advantage to keep a neutral temperament.
"Autumn to Kidd. Contact again on my starboard bow. I am turning towards it."
"Kidd to Autumn. Aye aye, sir."
He didn't need to issue orders to the shipgirl as she was already altering her course, knowing her job to the bone.
"Sonar reports contact bearing two one zero, sir. Range one mile."
"Very well."
"Steady on our new course, sir!" reported Patterson at that very moment.
"Sonar reports contact bearing two one zero, sir. Range two thousand yards."
"Very well."
It was the same cat and mouse game, the submarine trying to circle round and the Autumn following after her; only this time there was Kidd to intercept.
"Kidd to Autumn." Just as he was about to speak. "Contact, sir. On my starboard bow. Range indefinite."
"Very well. I have him on my starboard bow too. Range one mile."
The two cats were approaching fast, and between them was the mouse.
"Sonar reports contact dead ahead, sir."
"Very well."
It seemed like the submarine had begun swinging towards the opposite direction, leaving the circle. It's not confirmed whether or not she was aware of Kidd's presence, but it looked as if she must be. The said shipgirl was swinging to starboard already. Her sonar must be damned good.
"Kidd to Autumn. Kidd to Autumn. Contact close on my port bow. Converging."
"Autumn to Kidd. I hear you."
It's happening once more, that phenomenon of the varying speed of time. With the ships close together seconds were bleeding by; even during the brief exchange of messages the situation had tightened considerably.
"Kidd to Autumn. Requesting permission to engage, sir?"
"Autumn to Kidd. Carry on. Permission granted."
"Sonar reports contact dead ahead, sir." said the talker. "Range indefinite. Interference from the other ship."
"Very well. Autumn to Kidd. Contact dead ahead of me."
The shipgirl went ahead for her attack, watching for the corvette's bearing to avoid collision.
"Come right fifteen degrees, Mr. Lewis."
"Aye aye, sir. Right rudder to course—"
"Kidd to Autumn. I'm attacking, sir. Depth charges away!"
The corvette turned. To her port bow rose the first column of water; farther and farther around rose the others, in Kidd's wake. The sound of the explosion was audible and muffled.
"Sonar reports contact is obscured, sir."
"Very well. Captain to Sonar. Search on the port bow."
Kidd was turning hard to starboard, coming back again for her next drop.
"Sonar reports close contact bearing one eight two."
"Follow it up, Mr. Lewis!" the Captain gave the order as he turned to speak into the T.B.S. "Autumn to Kidd. Autumn to Kidd. Keep clear. I am coming in for my own attack."
"Aye aye, sir."
"I am setting a medium pattern. Set yours for deep."
"Deep pattern. Aye aye, sir."
"Medium pattern, Mr. Nostrum."
Eric nodded as he talked into his mouthpiece for the crews manning the K guns and roll racks to prepare themselves.
"Sonar reports close contact dead ahead, sir. Strong up Doppler."
"Very well. Autumn to Kidd. Contact is on a reciprocal course to mine."
"Kidd to Autumn. Reciprocal course. Aye aye, sir."
"Sonar reports contact lost, sir."
"Very well. Mr. Nostrum!"
Three hundred yards at a combined speed of say eighteen knots; thirty seconds. Deduct fifteen for an ashcan to sink to medium depth. A ten-second spread before and after.
"Fire one!" said Eric.
Kidd was close, her bow pointed straight at the Autumn; she wheeled right round and aimed to cross close behind the corvette's stern. If this had been a peacetime exercise drill then the shipgirl would be chewed out for endangering both ships. The K guns were going off on either side, their coughing explosions coinciding with the loud hollow boom of the first depth charge.
Wait fifteen more seconds.
"Come right, Mr. Lewis."
No delay this time, the ship wheeled back around without idly watching the results of her drop exploding, Halifax stepped out onto the wing of the bridge with the last upflung column of water falling back to the foaming sea in the background.
Kidd began her run at the edge of the area Autumn had searched with her charges; Halifax spotted the first of the shipgirl's depth charges drop.
"Meet her, Mr. Lewis! Steady as you go!"
It's better to keep a distance for the moment, on the outskirts where the Autumn's sonar would be less affected by the underwater explosions and where she would be free to turn in either direction at the first new contact. The sea erupted again, huge columns rising towards the gray sky. The Captain watched Kidd closely; with the dropping of her last depth charge she turned to starboard too. The last charge blew up it's pillar of water. Now's the time to continue the circle.
"Come right, Mr. Lewis!"
The two escort ships were circling about each other. The submarine is hoped to be within the area enclosed by the intersection of the two circles. Halifax's eyes were still on Kidd; he was standing at the end of the bridge when the starboard side lookout yelled, not two yards away from him.
"There she is! Sub on the starboard beam!"
Halifax saw it. A thousand yards away the long conical bow of a U-boat was rearing out of the tortured water. It leveled off as a wave burst around it in a smother of spray. It lowered and lengthened. A gun came into sight. A rounded bridge. The submarine shook itself as though in torment—as indeed it was. Autumn's guns went off, like doors being slammed intolerably loudly. The lookout was screaming in excitement. It was hard to focus the glasses on the thing. A wave seemed to run along it, and it was gone.
Halifax sprang back into the bridge.
"Right rudder, Mr. Lewis."
"Rudder's hard over, sir." said Lewis. Autumn had been turning at the moment of sighting.
The talker was trying to make a report, jumbling his words at first with excitement but he finally managed to steady himself.
"Gun fire control reports submarine sighted broad on our starboard bow, range one thousand. Fifteen rounds fire. No hits observed."
"Very well."
The U-boat had been nearly on the same course as the Autumn when she was sighted. Even if she had turned instantly upon submerging she would need time and distance to effect said turn. Would she turn to starboard or port? Hard to guess. Would she go deep or stay close under the surface? That might be a lot easier to guess.
"Sonar reports contact bearing one eight zero. Range approximately four hundred yards."
"Very well. Come left ten degrees, Mr. Lewis. Deep setting, Mr. Nostrum."
The submarine's instinct after involuntarily surfacing would be to go deep; and the controls would have jammed over hard already to combat the involuntary movement. And in the thirty seconds between submergence and the explosion of the next charge she would have plenty of time to reach extreme depth. The Captain had to watch Kidd; she was still making her turn, but she would be late this time to cross Autumn's wake.
"Fire one," said Eric into his mouthpiece, and Halifax checked himself as he was about to move to the T.B.S. There was no need to tell Kidd he was attacking. That was self-evident.
"Fire two," Eric added. "K guns, fire."
It would take longer this time for the depth charges with their deep setting to explode. A longer time for them to sink to the additional depth, and a more irregular spread with their somewhat random downward fall. The boom of the exploding charges were distinctly lower in pitch, distinctly more muffled at this greater depth. He then heard the last one.
He trained his glasses back over the starboard quarter, looking out over the stained and foaming sea. No sign of anything when the T.B.S. called for his attention.
"Kidd to Autumn! Kidd to Autumn!"
The brunette shipgirl seemed unwontedly excited.
"Autumn to Kidd. Go ahead."
"You've got him, sir! Got him!" There was a moment's pause, when the Eagle Union destroyer spoke next she was much calmer, "You've got him, sir. I just heard the crunch."
Kidd had heard the crunch; she had heard the breaking-up noises as the U-boat crumpled under the overwhelming pressure like a piece of paper crushed in the hand. Halifax stood silent at the T.B.S. His silence partly due to realization that this was his first submarine kill, years of experience culminated to this very moment serving for the Navy. He was like a student momentarily stunned at hearing he has won a prize.
"Can you hear me, sir?" bleated the T.B.S.
The Captain's brief numbness vanished at the question, "I hear you, Kidd." he said.
"Thank you for your wonderful cooperation."
"It's my duty, sir." A pause. "Any orders, sir?"
"Yes," he replied. "Resume your position for the convoy screen as quickly as possible."
"Aye aye, sir."
He turned away from the T.B.S. to address the helmsman, "Mr. Lewis, take station in the convoy screen, three miles ahead of the leading ship of the second column from the right."
"Aye aye, sir."
"Sonar reports no contact, sir." the talker informed, and Halifax realized he had heard that same report several times lately without attending to it.
"Very well," he replied to the talker and then faced the crowd on the bridge. "We got him. We got him. The lil missy heard him crunch after that last pattern."
The faces in the shadow of the helmets lit into smiles. Eric uttered a half-suppressed cheer. Halifax couldn't help but relax into a grin.
"Secure from general quarters, El-Tee." he gestured towards Lt. Commander Patterson. "Set Condition Two, and see if you can manage for some hot chow for the men off watch."
"Roger that, skipper." Patterson gave his reply, then the loudspeaker blared the order throughout the ship. Now half the men would be able to eat, to rest, to warm up.
The Autumn was approaching the front of the convoy; the Fletcher-class destroyer on the left flank adjusted her course and actively skated back and forth for sonar sweeps. Out on the right was the Allen M. Sumner-class destroyer; it was almost time to give the order for normal screening stations. Above him came the sharp rattle of the shutters of the spotlight as a message was transmitted to Kidd. He looked aft and spotted her skating along half a mile astern, the shipgirl's brown hair fluttering in the Northern breeze as she shielded her face when a wave crashed nearby. She was nearly up to station, and he must give that order to her. The Captain was just able to relax his hands sufficiently to let the glasses fall from them onto his chest, and he stiffly paced back into the bridge, to the T.B.S.
"Alpha to Escorts. Do you hear me?"
He waited for the acknowledgements, Beta to Alpha, and Charlie to Alpha, and Delta to Alpha. Those code names were an excellent choice. Four distinct sounds, they were impossible to confuse even with serious distortion.
He gave the order in a flat voice.
"Take up normal daylight screening stations."
The acknowledgements came in one by one, and he replaced the handset.
"Signal bridge reports your signal acknowledged by Kidd, sir." said the messenger.
"Very well."
He went back to his command chair, asking for two cups of coffee to the messenger and waited for the afternoon fuel reports to flood in. It'd take another day or two to reach New York and Allied air cover, that is if they survive the night watch.
[ NY Harbor ]
The bar was silent. With the exception of the air conditioning humming in the background and the faint sound of the radio playing somewhere, the occasional clink of glasses of various kinds as the bartender washed and wiped them. Four figures were seated facing each other while holding cards in their hands, one of them finally spoke.
"Do you have a seven?"
"Go fish?"
The redhead that asked the question rose from her seat and leaned forth to inspect the dark-haired female's deck, spotting the card that obviously displayed a red seven.
"You have a seven, dammit! Do you have the slightest idea how to play this, West Virginia?"
The two started bickering shortly as an amused laugh interrupted them, "No need to be serious, Mary. It's a kid's game so you can excuse Westie's lack of understanding it." Nevada grinned from her seat, watching as Maryland settled back down onto her seat with a huff. "Your sisters are a handful, eh? Colorado."
"Well, their temper can be used efficiently in combat so we can give leeway for their behaviour. As ships bestowed with the title Big Seven, it's expected that we dreadnoughts should toughen up for the little ones." the white-haired dreadnought replied coolly.
"I get it. And have you ladies heard the news from Pearl?" Nevada resumed the game with the question.
Maryland nonchalantly quizzed, "About what? There's at least a dozen reports flowing in from Pearl."
"I've only heard that the Commander aborted a large-scale operation for the Pacific Theatre. That's enough of a concern because the bosslady never cancels an operation even if there's a storm or whatever." came the reply from West Virginia.
"Not that, the operation still counts as a success because the Sirens left their facility in a hurry so we've managed to confiscate data for future ops." Nevada waved her hand playfully, "It's about a ship. Not just any ordinary ship."
Colorado perked up at that, "Isn't she scheduled to arrive here?"
"Word has it that she's already here." Nevada grinned with her reply.
West Virginia gave Maryland a weird look and the redhead shared the sentiment of her sister even though they argued most of the time.
"What's so special about this ship? To have an entire network talking 'bout her?"
"Well, my dear Mary, South Dakota told me that she one-shots every Siren when they found her."
Maryland scoffed, "What's so special about that? That's bullshit."
Nevada snickered, "Oh, that's not all. She also shrugged off direct hits from the Sirens, while taking potshots at them. The damned gal didn't get a single scratch!"
"Bull!" Maryland mouthed off, slamming her hand on the table as she turned to West Virginia as if telling her "can you believe this crap?" and the dark-haired shipgirl finally gave a piece of her mind.
"You sure that Dakota ain't exaggerating? 'Cuz I ain't buying that shit till I've had a front seat to see it for myself."
"It didn't seem like she was lying, plus you have an entire task force as witnesses. The word "alien" keeps going here and there, which might explain why the ship's so strong."
Maryland raised an eyebrow, "So… a UFO? Or UNO? I'd believe it if you told me that the boogeyman's real and that he's consulting coffee grounds while doing the boogie-woogie."
The two younger Colorado-class dreadnoughts laughed by themselves, clinking their whisky glasses before downing the contents. Colorado paid no mind to her sisters' behaviour, glancing at Nevada who just managed a knowing smile. Perhaps her sisters might just eat their words if they finally meet that ship, whoever she is.
St. Paul blinked. The port was awfully packed as vendors lined up from one end to the other. Shipgirls, Manjuus, and humans alike mingling about buying wares or food from the stalls or just sightseeing. At some point she could hear music blasting and someone singing gleefully, a couple of Manjuus were gathered before a twin-tail haired shipgirl dancing atop a small platform, a couple of shipgirls were cheering for her as well. The phrase "I am number one!" registered to the mental model's hearing, she felt a tug as Baltimore guided her through the crowd while Enterprise followed closely from behind.
"I see that San Diego's caught your attention. Don't be fooled by her playfulness and lack of attention, she's a talented anti-air cruiser whose achievements are second to mine. To think that someone like her earned Battle Stars almost as much as me." the white-haired shipgirl glanced towards the Atlanta-class cruiser, a soft smile adorned her lips at the liveliness of the port with her as an addition.
"We have someone like her back in my world, with a similar playful tendency overshadowed by her massive offensive capabilities."
"Oh? Who?"
"Maya." St. Paul replied in a heartbeat, she knew too well about the heavy cruiser from the Joint Tactical Network. It was a unique way of communications, information archive and the likes for the Fleet of Fog. The detailed after action report baffled her when she first discovered that Kongo assimilated Maya in a fit of vengeance towards the I-401. Thankfully the situation was defused shortly after.
Enterprise recognized the expression on St. Paul despite the neutral look, the faint traces of emotion still leaked for her to discern. It reminded her of herself before she arrived at Pearl Harbor, and met the Commander. It felt like looking at a mirror, although she knew that the mental model could simply disregard her emotions since she noted that it was simply a plugin. A program that could be activated at will. Yet the Union aircraft carrier couldn't shake off the feeling that St. Paul's seen as much as she did, went through something similar and chose the path that she herself had abandoned.
Enterprise strode alongside the silver-haired female and didn't say anything, allowing the environment to do the work for her and Baltimore who volunteered to be the tour guide.
The trio went from one booth to another, trying out the food or products that were being displayed for all to see. St. Paul even managed to get up close to a Manjuu during the tour, poking it's cheek as the bird responded by raising both its hands? Or are they wings? The mental model's eyes sparkled in awe and she took the Manjuu in her arms, the sight was enough to make Baltimore laugh while Enterprise chuckled, it was a relief that St. Paul had a soft spot for the Manjuus. Maybe she could start there next time, or even ask for one of those Meowfficers that she's been hearing about.
"I'm guessing these little ones don't exist in your world? You've been intrigued about them even back at Pearl."
St. Paul nodded, "I've seen cats and dogs, but these… are oddly fascinating." she pets the Manjuu that she cradled, and the bird in turn didn't make a move. Either from the petting or the fact that it was being held so closely that the soft cushion sensation behind it made the Manjuu relax.
"Just don't give them too much attention, little fella over there seems to like you already, more than usual."
Baltimore grinned, "Lucky rascal." The heavy cruiser resumed their tour, this time heading for the dorms. Due to the large number of shipgirls, the dorms were divided into two buildings with multiple sections to house each class of warships. For instance, the destroyers would have their own room however individuals can submit their own request to stay in a room with the cruisers or even battleships. Only aircraft carriers and submarines have their own unique accommodation for select reasons.
The trio were greeted by the sight of another crowd in front of the first dorm building, upon closer observation it seems to be a tennis match between Bremerton and Bache in their respective sports attire. Baltimore checked to see if St. Paul's paying attention, the mental model seemed oddly curious about the activity.
"One of the players is Bremerton. You should be able to guess which is who."
Enterprise muttered, "It seems pretty obvious to recognize top-heavy ships."
The said heavy cruiser was agile despite her appearance, nailing each serve that Bache returned as the match reached its climax when the destroyer failed to hit the tennis ball as it impacted just near the borderline of the court. One side of the crowd cheered as some of the audiences were being passed money; looks like a bet had been made prior to the match.
Bremerton walked off to the sidelines easily, towel draped over her neck while gulping down from a bottle of water to refresh herself. She noticed the trio approaching her and grinned, "Oh hey, you were watching that, Baltimore?"
"Yo, Bremerton. I sure did and I'm proud of you even though it was a friendly match."
"Enterprise." the younger Baltimore-class did a simple gesture that the aircraft carrier reciprocated, "And who's this? A new face?"
"Yup! Bremerton, meet Saint Paul."
At that introduction the heavy cruiser nearly spilled her drink, she quickly uncapped the bottle and leapt towards the mental model, startling her when Bremerton held onto the silver-haired female's shoulders.
"For reals?! I never thought I'd see another Baltimore-class around here!"
Enterprise nervously laughed, "Well… not our Saint Paul, this one came from another world—"
"Oh no-no! That doesn't matter, as long as she carries the name of a Baltimore, you hecking bet that she's one of us. Oh, I've missed you! Putting aside that you're not from here, of course."
St. Paul felt like she could overheat from the overly friendly approach that Bremerton took, much to her expectation with Baltimore earlier. Her neutral expression cracked slightly as she was bombarded with questions by her alleged sister. Baltimore herself broke into fits of laughter witnessing the change in the mental model's once constant expression.
It didn't take long before St. Paul was dragged into the dorm building as she held the Manjuu in her arms for dear life. Bremerton was eager to know more about her while Baltimore simply enjoyed the bonding time between her sisters. Enterprise paused at the door to look back towards a lone building towering above the others on a cliff by the coast, an eagle was circling the building and the Union carrier solemnly curved her lips up before entering the building fully.
The Commander was waiting patiently on her seat, she had rushed over when the news arrived as she was handling paperwork in her office. She was urged by Wales to go while she handled most of the easy workload, she'd have to thank the Royal battleship later on regarding her duty.
Ayane anxiously stared at the door at the end of the hallway. She sharply got up from the metal chair when the door swung open, out came Vestal and Hammann. The two didn't say anything, the former only smiled towards the Commander as the signal for her to enter while the duo waited outside.
She walked past the two, pausing by the door to check herself and calm her breathing. Ayane steeled herself before entering, the sunset light from the window blinding her momentarily as her eyes adjusted and finally laid on the female sitting upright on the medical bed as she stared out the window. The Commander held her breath, taking a step forward and her eyes finally met the female's own.
"Good afternoon, Commander."
There was no immediate response, and the female knew exactly why as she beamed a weak smile.
"I'm fine now, Commander. You don't have to worry about me. Vestal said that I'm stable enough to be discharged."
"...that's great to hear." Ayane walked over to the stool situated by the bed, plopping down on it and rested her hands on the edge of the bed mattress. The female in turn eased her own hand atop the Commander's. To try and comfort her, whatever is occuring inside her thoughts.
"I trust that you've been taking better care of yourself, Commander?"
"To a certain extent… although Georgia has to remind me whenever I stay up late."
A soft giggle made her smile, she lightened up a bit and felt her tense shoulders relax.
"How's Enterprise? And Hornet, if I may ask?"
"They're both fine. Enterprise has been trying her best, she's a valuable asset to Pearl. And as for Hornet… well she's Hornet. They're what you expect them to be as your sisters, Yorktown."
Yorktown let out a soft laugh, "Of course, I just needed to confirm it from you. You've been helping Enterprise ever since her transfer, so I know that she's in good hands. I can entrust the same for Hornet if she ever got in trouble." the shipgirl gave the Commander a pat on the head, the warmth from her touch never failed to make her smile widely.
"It's the least I could do for you… I promised you, didn't I? Before I even stepped up as the Commander for Azur Lane. Those two have so much hope placed on them, and the best course of action is to lead them onwards…"
"To a better future." Yorktown completed her sentence. Ayane nodded at this, "It's even better now that you've finally recovered. Though it'll take awhile for you to be fit for combat duties once more."
"I'm not sure if Enterprise will allow me to sortie."
"Haha, I take it that she'll be much more protective of you from now on. If not jump at every opportunity to keep you from danger."
The sun soon sets fully, replaced by the nightly sky and the moon introducing itself to the occupants of NY City. The two were immersed in their conversation to even bother about the change in environment as artificial orange lights filled the room to offset the darkness outside the window. To them, catching up with each other is much more important than time; one that been robbed from them before, and now that's barely an issue for the both of them.