Ruins of Qui Nhon, Bình Định Province, Vietnam.

With New Jersey:

Kitty Hawk had rejoined them after they'd left Saigon, falling in with the main Abyssal fleet as they'd passed Mount Nhỏ, under the gaze of ancient French Artillery pieces, as well as the giant statue of Jesus Christ on the point lookout. The statue had stood out starkly against the landscape, white stone untouched as it was amongst the withered and blackened trees. Of the emplacements, little remained, the old underground railway tunnels collapsed and settlements razed years ago during the leadup to the sacking of Ho Chi Minh City.

Once the fleet had finished reorganizing, the Battlegroup had steamed along the coast, passing several shattered cities before finally reaching Qui Nhon.

The area was more... colorful, than further inland. The humans here had abandoned the settlement fully early-on in the conflict, before the arrival of Jersey. And so had been spared from the systematic chem-runs on the local foliage. Wildflowers, as well as formerly well-cultivated gardens, had overrun the now wild parks and lawns, formerly hard-packed dirt and gravel driveways now small fields of wild grass and flowers, and paved roads sprouting weeds from the cracks that had developed due to lack of maintenance over the years.

The only signs of habitation were a few well-worn paths leading from the water further into the city, footpaths leading to the Dock-Barracks created by the small garrison of Abyssals that made up USS Turner's personal fleet. Most of said-ships had met them at the shore, some staying to converse with Turner. Who had been given leave by Kitty-Hawk, as the rest merged with the main fleet, to gossip and trade supplies as the Risen conducted their business.

New Jersey's retinue waited patiently on the waters of Lake Sinh Thai, holding position on the water as the Risen stepped up onto the remains of a pier in the middle of the largely empty town. Galveston and Maddox followed two steps behind Jersey and Kitty Hawk, fighting back their brief land-sickness to keep pace with the American Battleship and Carrier as they started down the winding path ahead.

A heavy fog blanketed the area, casting the, mostly intact, buildings in a white shroud. There was no sound but their own footfalls as they left the main fleet behind, the chatter of New Constructs giving way to a heavy silence, save for the occasional cry of the birds and animals that had started to retake the City.

"So, "Galveston started, more to break the silence than anything, "This... Caleuche woman, is she to be trusted?"

Jersey glanced at her Rigging, frowning briefly, before looking back at the Cruiser "She's being paid for a job, and as absolutely fucking infuriating as the wooden bint can be, she's lived up to her end of the deal, so far." Jersey tucked a stray black bang behind her right horn before continuing, "I don't want to admit it, but I need her right now, especially with the big offensive still planned."

Kitty Hawk nodded, "We took considerable losses at Xuyen, and while they can be replaced, it won't be in time for the Tet offensive. I even lost a few of my fighters, and those are not so easily replaced as a Construct."

Jersey grunted, "Maybe if you bothered to share the blueprints, it wouldn't be such a damn problem."

Kitty Hawk opened her mouth to argue, but Jersey merely waved her off, "I know, I know, you won't share your toys. That will keep biting you in the stern every time something like this happens, you know."

Kitties expression turned icy, "My jets, are not, toys."

"Then stop playing with the fucking things all the time."

"It's maintenance not-"Kitty Hawk snapped her mouth shut, simply glaring at the Battleship.

Jersey's Rigging shifted, stepping a tad too close to the Carrier, and Jersey looked over, smirking as Maddox walked faster, to get between the two, "Loyal little urchins you have, I still wonder what you did to deserve that loyalty."

"I find loyalty is rarely earned," A new voice broke into the conversation, "but freely given, oft to those undeserving of it."

Maddox was already aiming her 5" guns as the trio of larger ships turned to face Caleuche, who, as usual, had seemingly appeared from nowhere.

New Jersey simply ripped a mailbox out of the ground, before casually whipping it at the Frigate's head in response.

Caleuche deftly twisted slightly out of the projectile's path, turning to watch it continue to sail past, wheeling end over end, until it drove through the windshield of a long-abandoned car.

The airbags deployed, and the battery, long-since drained, only allowed the car alarm a single awkward squawk before it died.

Caleuche turned back to Jersey with a wry grin, simply shaking her head at the Battleship's casual violence, "It's good to see you as well, Jersey-Hime, I see our time apart has not changed your... temperament, at all."

Jersey snarled, before physically reigning herself back in, her Rigging stomped its massive arms, cracking the pavement underneath it, "Caleuche, still unfortunately afloat, I see."

The stark-white wooden Frigate nodded in mock-sadness before she put a dainty hand to one cheek, tilting her head, "Unfortunately... somehow, someway, I'm sure you will eventually learn to cope, my dear." A small smirk tugged at the corner of the ship's mouth.

Caleuche looked away from the slowly smoldering Jersey, eyes alighting on Galveston, "Ah! Princess Galveston, I see you are once more among the... living."

Galveston looked at the Frigate, somewhat confused, "We've met? Forgive me, but I don't ever remember meeting you, Princess Caleuche."

The Frigate nodded again, "Ah, yes, memories lost to the Abyss, some of us just can't keep themselves together all that well, can they?" she clapped her delicate hands, "Regardless! Yes, yes we have met briefly, several times, in fact, though I don't think I left all that much of an... impression, on you then." She looked at the Cruiser a bit more intently, noticing the Talos launcher on her Rigging, "Interesting..."

Jersey cut into the contemplative pause, stepping quite literally into the conversation, "Galveston is mine you worm-ridden hag. Lay off," Jersey's Rigging growled, as Jersey's head whipped towards it, "and don't YOU start! Shut your damn mouth you piece of junk-!"

Her Rigging cut off its growl suddenly, bringing Jersey up short. It looked at Caleuche, a low, almost questioning grumble still in its massive throat, as the Frigate simply stared back at its eyeless gaze with a quirked brow. The Rigging quieted, and turned back to face the road again, looking on as a harried-looking Ta-Class fast Battleship turned the corner at the nearest intersection.

...

"You really must learn to control yourself, Jersey-Hime." Caleuche grinned, "Though at this point I really am starting to sound like a broken... oh what were those called again?" The Frigate folded her arms, holding her chin in one hand contemplatively, "Oh, it's on the tip of my tongue, I was around when little Tom-Tom invented it, for goodness sake!"

The Ta-class finished closing the distance, giving a hurried but nonetheless deep bow to the group of Risen as the Frigate continued to ponder.

"A Phonograph? No, that doesn't sound quite right..."

"A record, Miss Caleuche." The harried-looking Ta-class said.

"A RECORD!" Caleuche pounded an open palm with her fist, making an odd creaking sound, "Of course! How could I have forgotten? Thank you, dear."

"Thank you, Miss Caleuche." The Ta said, dipping her head again.

The Frigate waved the Fast Battleship away, "away with the Miss-Ma'am, dear, you'll make me feel old."

Jersey snorted, "You ARE fucking old." The Battleship-Hime looked at the Ta, "So, I assume you are here bothering us for a reason, Construct? What's your hull-number?"

The Ta's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to explain her presence-

"Name's Konnie." Came the small voice of Maddox, who had finally lowered her cannons as she continued in her quiet voice, "She's one of Turner's. She bothers naming her ships." The destroyer finished, shrugging slightly.

Jersey squinted at the ship appraisingly, "You were one of the escorts sent for that ritual Caleuche did, weren't you?"

Konnie nodded silently, hands clasped tightly in front of her as she looked at the ground.

...

"Hmmph," New Jersey turned to the Frigate, as Konnie slumped slightly in relief behind her, "Speaking of, I think it's about time you showed me exactly why I've been putting up with your monochrome-ass."

Caleuche smiled, again putting a single hand to her cheek, "Oh me oh my! Of course! Right this way..." The 3-masted sailing ship started down the beaten path, and the Ta quickly followed.

Jersey started after the pair, the large strides of her long legs letting her catch up to them quickly as the other Risen fell in behind her.

Eventually, the group of Abyssal Warlords found themselves in a rather unremarkable parking lot. Caleuche turned to face the group as she clasped her hands together, sails fluttering in a nonexistent breeze, "Konnie dear, if you would kindly?"

The Ta nodded, speaking into her radio quietly as the Risen looked on, before standing loosely at attention again.

Seconds passed in silence.

Jersey tapped her heeled foot impatiently, and opened her mouth-

"There's something coming, check Radar, 120 high." Kitty Hawk said suddenly, looking off into the distance.

The ships did so, and faintly, they could hear the sound of rotor blades that quickly grew louder as Kitty Hawk readied her Phalanx turrets, only to be waved off by a contrite Jersey.

"Friendlies, listen."

The Carrier did as asked, before blinking in surprise, "That rhythm..."

Jersey nodded, "I'd know the sound of a Bell UH-1 anywhere, no way the Viet's would be using the few they have left this far South, our local air patrols would swat them out of the sky."

The noise grew louder, and louder, until the helicopter finally came within sight over the derelict buildings.

The Huey nosed up, killing its speed, before it slowly touched down behind a smiling Caleuche, it's single turboshaft engine was simply missing. The space where it connected to the hull filled in by an unearthly glow, and bullet holes, from what looked like 12.7x108 rounds, stitched rough lines across the side panels, before crossing over the cracked canopy, where the pilot sat, fiddling with the controls.

He was missing most of his head, and as he straightened to look at the Abyssal ships, one of the cracked bulletholes in the cockpit lined up perfectly with his missing cheek.

"Care for a ride?" Caleuche asked.