Spratly Islands, South China Sea.

The Abyssal convoy was making decent time, they'd left Mae's shipyard the day previous, and had reached the first scattered atoll of the Spratly Islands not long ago. The main cargo hauler, a human craft specifically modified to handle the transport of inert Abyssal hulls, was an older model, and its cargo left it overladen, not leaving much freeboard as it slowly chugged along.

Two of the three Capital ships escorting said craft conversed with each other, as two squadrons of a mix of Destroyer classes cruised alongside the ship's flanks along with a few Cruisers. These particular Vessels had been heavily damaged and repaired in such a way that they still vaguely looked as though they'd been on the wrong end of a thresher, internal components and functionality mostly unaffected while retaining their scuffed appearances.

Normally the fleet would contain far more protection. But the guard detail could afford to be lax, due to the very nature of their cargo.

It also would help paint the illusion that they had taken losses in the vicious pirate attack that would unfortunately intercept them.

Even the Trio of Capital ships, a pair of Wo-class Carriers and a single Ru, looked as though they'd seen the business end of multiple torpedoes, cracked and shattered armor plate and soot roughly welded/smeared over of their normal hulls for this mission.

"I can't believe you roped me into this Rokku," Agame said, cruising next to the named Wo-class as she picked at her superficially ruined front, "escort duty I can understand, but all this fake battle-damage itches on my hull something awful."

Rokku shrugged with her Rigging's tentacles, even as she kept both of her gloved hands on her cane, "You didn't have to come you know," the Wo smirked at the Ru beside her, "I'm sure I'd have managed without you, somehow."

The Battleship snorted, "Ha! As-if, last time I left you alone for a mission, you were in the baths for three days repairing your elevator."

The Carrier's mouth twisted, "And the last time I let you wander out of my air coverage you ran afoul of a torpedo, last I remember."

The Battleship scowled, "Bah, damn Submarines, ever since the Palau-Hime went down they've been scattered everywhere."

Rokku paused, before shrugging, "Can't blame them, it's not like they have anywhere else to go," Rokku turned to the third Capital ship in the miniature fleet, "Hey, Roga."

The former Pratas Armada Captain, Roga, finished receiving a scout plane, before turning to look at her fellow Carrier, "Aye?"

"You had a squadron of Submarines back when you had your own fleet, didn't you?" Rokku asked.

Roga huffed, "Still HAVE a fleet, girl, they just serve Mae Crizzete-Hime now, same as me." The Wo-class scratched at her own, slightly less-simulated battle damage, "But yes, I had a full pack of Ka's when I ran a raiding cove South of Bashi. Made a deal with their pack leader, a So-class named Sonya, to take them in when they showed up on my wharf starving one day. Figure they'd been months fending for themselves by then, feeding off Wildlings and the like."

Agame shook her head, "Can't imagine what it's like, losing your Hime and Port for good. They must've been lost in more ways than one."

The scarred Wo shrugged, "Can't say they were found, to be honest, most of the little surface-dodgers took to drinking any alcohol we managed to seize, it was all I could do to keep them sober when there wasn't a raid on."

Rokku frowned at her fellow Carrier, "That doesn't sound very disciplined."

Roga quirked a brow, "I ran a Pirate fleet, they all respected me for my leadership, but at the end of the day, we were all our own ship. They wanted to drink off duty? They could drown in booze for all I cared, as long as it was their own spoils they were guzzling.

"The lost leading the lost, then," Agame said. Before putting her hands up in a helpless gesture at Roga's angry scowl, a gesture somewhat counteracted by the massive guns attached to said hands, "I don't mean anything by it, it's just..."

"Listen here, until that business with the Kanmusu? I was exactly where I chose to be." Roga pointed at Agame, "I wasn't 'lost', my Hime is still out there, somewhere. I asked to leave, and she let me forge my own path. I'm no-one's 'leavings'," she turned back to their course, giving one last glance backward, "remember that."

She picked up speed, getting ahead of the pair of Abyssals, wordlessly ending the conversation as they looked at each other.

"...Cheery woman."

"I know, right?"

With Roga:

The Wo-class sailed back to the front of the formation, evening out next to one of her Ri-class Cruisers. "Damn fools." She muttered.

"What they do to rile you this time, Captain?"

The irritated Wo simply thumbed back at where the other two Capital ships were happily chatting, "Those two would have been eaten alive in the Armada, look at 'em! Chatting away like this isn't prime territory for an ambush."

The Ri shrugged, "So are we, Captain," the Ri nonetheless began to scan the islands a bit more intently, "I heard through scuttlebutt that some badass Submarine-Hime came through here, cleaned out the only crew big enough to fuck with us. It's likely the only ambush we'll have sprung on us is the one we're planning on."

"Tch," Roga shook her head, slowly, as to not tip over the recon craft getting ready on her landing strip, "Can't believe this, if Rachelle was still alive I'm not sure if she'd have been ecstatic or trying to put a shell through my bridge."

"Because of the Vietnam Battleship-Hime?"

The Wo nodded, "The stories she told us of serving under that madwoman... and it was all according to Mae's plan, all of it." She spit off to the side, "How many ships did the Armada buy from her altogether? A hundred? More? All because we wanted more cannons to point at that basket case." She barked out a laugh, "And now we get to be the ones to rub her out, in the end."

The Ri-Class, Shirene, shrugged. "I wouldn't be alive if the deal hadn't gone through, no complaints here."

The Wo paused, as if coming to a realization, "That's right, you were commissioned to be built by Captain Whillmein then weren't you? Before she was burned off the coast of Hong Kong in that shitty siege." She straightened, tucking a loosely flapping lock of hair behind her ear, "Never should have gotten involved with that mess. We were never going to win a land war in Asia."

"Eh, what would we have done with the land anyway? Can't see us as rice farmers. Best to let the humans be, let em' build up between raids so there's something actually worth stealing when we finally kick their shacks over."

"Aye, but I wouldn't go saying that around the Himes. Mae has her pets, but even the great Crane-Sama would have given me the stink eye if I started spreading talk like that, back then."

Shirene nodded, "Right, forgot you were hand-built," She looked back at the transport vessel struggling behind them, before looking back, scratching at her forehead, where artfully chipped armor had been tac-welded onto her skin to simulate damage, "Why do those little-bastards get to ride in the containers while we slog it anyway?"

"Because if Jersey has lookouts and sees us coming in with the same ships who-" Roga held up her cane in one hand, freeing her fingers to make quotation marks, "'Tragically sink her latest delivery of ship-hulls'" She snorted before continuing, "Our cover will be blown, and when we move in to direct the narrative in Saigon we'll have to deal with a pissed-off Iowa-Class Battleship on PCP."

"Ah."

"Yes, 'Ah'." Roga sighed explosively, tilting her head to look at the sky, the two ships from Mae's fleet cheerfully chattering incessantly about some inane nonsense behind them.

"At least that damn manatee Jillian's on a mission down South, she'd be just what I need."