Galveston suddenly found herself alone, white, so white it was almost blinding, mist surrounding her. There was a whistling sound in the distance.
The Fog was thick, and no matter how Galveston looked into the blank white space, she could not pierce it, even with her new Talos's RADAR's beam-targeting. She put her gloved right hand out, sweeping the air in front of her as she made to take a step forward-
"Do not move, dear, I would hate to be forced to leave you behind in this place."
The voice came from no-where and everywhere at once, seeming to echo from all directions.
"Caleuche?" The Cruiser Princess asked.
There was a short pause, "Yes?"
"Where... is this? Where are we?" Now that she noticed, she couldn't quite feel the ground anymore, the shattered but still-hard asphalt of the parking lot having given way to... something else.
It almost felt like she was floating on water.
Almost.
The question triggered a small giggle from the Frigate, and if Galveston had possessed the instincts for it, she was sure it would have raised the hairs on the back of her neck.
"Somewhere we are not meant to linger, dear, not to worry, we'll reach our destination-"
The fog abruptly cleared, and Galveston stumbled on the now-soft topsoil of the jungle, bumping into an equally disoriented New Jersey, catching herself on the Battleship's arm for stability, Galveston looked at her surroundings as the mist faded.
"...Now!" Caleuche finished, clapping her hands together merrily. She looked at the disoriented Warlords, "I hope the ride wasn't too unpleasan-"
Jersey, of course, opened up with a left broadside from her Rigging, the shells passing through the bemused Frigate to crash into the jungle behind her.
"...t," the Frigate finished. She shook her head ruefully as the whirls of mist solidified back into her body.
"Never. Do that. Again." New Jersey ground out, teeth actually sparking as she ground them together in anger and slight fear.
"For once, I agree with Jersey. Don't do that again, being so... alone, unsupported. It goes against my instincts, also, it scared my escort." Kitty-Hawk said, putting a slender hand on Maddox's shoulder, whose slight tremble betrayed her otherwise emotionless facade.
"I wasn't afraid." Came the monotone and completely unconvincing response.
"Of course, Hon." Kitty-Hawk replied, giving her an extra rub on her horned helmet. Which seemed to finally calm the Destroyer-Hime. The Carrier-Princess turned to Caleuche, who for her part, watched the byplay with amused interest, "I assume you did... whatever that was, for a purpose?"
"Why yes! Yes indeed, you wished to see the fruits of your..." Caleuche eyed Konnie briefly, "Purchase." The Frigate waved the Risen towards Konnie, before marching off imperiously. Sails flapping in the non-existent wind, Caleuche daintily hauled herself into the nearby helicopter that had traveled with them through the murk. "Konnie will lead you through the brush, it's not far. I'll be enjoying a ride there myself. I shall meet you there." She turned towards the cockpit, "Gentlemen, if you would?"
The helicopter's rotors swung to life as the Ta-class, literally the only Construct in the clearing, cautiously cleared her throat.
"Ahem! This w-way, Ma'am's." Konnie said, almost stumbling as she started off into the forest. After a pregnant pause, Kitty-Hawk hesitatingly stepped forward, only to be quickly overtaken by Maddox, who was eager to take point for the Carrier. New Jersey's Rigging was next, walking forward with its long, loping strides, before turning to look back.
"I-I'm fucking going, just give me a second." The beast kept staring at Jersey, whose face quickly began to screw up again in anger, "Don't argue... I SAID GET!"
Her Rigging hesitantly turned back, and loped away.
"...You're more shook up than normal, Jersey," Galveston said, once the two ships were alone, "Caleuche has you spooked, too?"
"You say a word to anyone, I'll make you regret it, got it?" Galveston nodded quickly, as Jersey seemed to slump, "Yes." She looked down at the Cruiser Princess, swiping at a rebellious strand of black hair, "She cowed my Rigging, Galve, cowed, it. I am fucking terrified of that woman."
"Didn't seem like it when you sent a 16" broadside her way."
Jersey made a rude noise in the back of her throat, wordlessly gesturing to the devastated jungle behind her, the only result of her fusillade, "For what good it did." She sighed, "I'm a Battleship, Galveston. We shoot things that frighten us. Usually, it makes whatever it was fuck off... but whatever that smiling thing is. She's not something that I can get rid of easily."
Both ships began to walk after Jersey's Rigging, side-by-side as they followed the wide trail of destroyed vegetation left in its wake.
"Just because it's not easy doesn't mean you can't do it, though." Jersey looked over at the shorter Cruiser, who continued, "Most things worth doing are hard. And I think it would be worth it if that bitch took a surf-nap."
"I take it you're as disturbed as Kitty-Hawk was, then?"
Galveston started to nod, then stopped, "Yes and no." She gesticulated, " Believe me, I don't give half of a bilge-rat's ass about humanity. Regardless of if they controlled my body at one point or not. And the less said about those domesticated Kanmusu pets of theirs, the better. It's just," she sighed, putting a hand to her upper faceplate, "I think there are lines that we weren't meant to cross, and something tells me Caleuche danced over them, laughing all the while, a long, long time ago."
"So you disagree with the method, not the result?"
Galveston nodded, "She's fucking around with souls, Jersey. Yeah, they're human ones, so I don't particularly care, but what if she isn't limited to that?" Galveston's four optics looked at Jersey, and while the circular lenses didn't lend themselves well to facial expression, she did a fair impression of concern, "If she can do that to men that died in the... what? Late 60's? 70's? What could she do to a ship's soul?"
Jersey winced, "I hope we never find out. Listen, if I find a way to put that smug box of weevils down, you and Cat will be the first to know, until then? We're fucking stuck with her AND her spectral bullshit until the deal is over and she hopefully fucks off back to where she came from."
"And if she doesn't?"
Jersey's sudden silence wasn't reassuring.
...
Konnie nervously looked back, for all that she was a Fast Battleship, the Construct still couldn't help being nervous around the Risen Destroyer. Who for her part, kept pace with the Ta-class silently.
She decided to break the oppressive silence, "So, um, Maddox, right?" She asked, before immediately mentally kicking herself, thinking, "of course it's Maddox you idiot! You've only served in the same Armada as her for years-"
"Yes." came the flat response, as the Destroyer gently brushed a fern-leaf aside.
Konnie valiantly continued, "I was stationed under Turner, after I was activated, so I never really got the chance to speak to you before, I heard the stories and-"
"Yes, we were blamed for it." Maddox interrupted.
The Ta almost missed a step, "I... what?"
"We started the whole thing, yes." Maddox grabbed a branch, breaking it off so that Kitty wouldn't get thwapped in the face with it behind her, "The Gulf of Tonkin will always be what Turner Joy and I will ever be known for."
Konnie's brows scrunched together, "I uh... was going to ask if you actually got hit by a Kamikaze plane once, I heard that was a thing Japanese Carriers used to do, way back." She fidgeted, "I'm just surprised you survived it, is all."
"Oh." The small girl looked slightly confused for a moment before answering, "Yes, it was a 500-pound bomb, hit my pilot house, killed seven, injured thirty-three. Didn't sink me, managed to limp to Ulthi in the Western Pacific. Humans decided I was worth repairing at the time, got better."
Konnie blinked, "They actually repaired you? I thought they always scrapped wounded ships."
Maddox shrugged, "Usually only when we aren't useful anymore. At the time I was needed for their war. They didn't tear me apart until 1985 in Taiwa-" The Destroyer's eyes zeroed in on something ahead of them, she held up a fist, stopping Kitty-Hawk, "Hold, contacts ahead." She said.
"That's just the roving camp pickets, nothing to worry about!" Konnie said reassuringly. Maddox didn't lower her arm-mounted 5" gun, especially as the 'picket' came within sight through the undergrowth.
A handful of what could generously be called 'men' slowly walked by, silent save for the quiet 'crunch' of their footsteps. Sweeping their rusted weapons left and right as they passed ahead of them. These weren't dressed in uniform military garb, but mostly moldy civilian clothes, with a single man wearing a rusted and uncovered Mk 1 helmet, the faded stylized face of a snarling black panther prominent on the front.
The man, wearing the tattered remnants of an ARVN ranger uniform, simply looked at the Abyssal procession for a moment, hollow, glowing eyes staring, expressionless, before he turned and continued along his patrol. The rest of the men followed behind him, old
M1 Garands and the singular M2 Carbine constantly sweeping the treeline as they continued beyond their sight.
Throughout the encounter, they hadn't said a word.
Jersey's Rigging huffed, shifting side to side as it sniffed the air, before shaking its head rapidly, as if to drive a smell out of its non-existent nose.
"Well... The camp isn't far, this way." Konnie said, more to break the sudden oppressive silence than anything. Walking forward as she beckoned the Risen behind her.
"Maddox," The named Destroyer turned, looking at Kitty-Hawk as the Carrier continued, "Stay close to me." She ordered.
Maddox simply nodded, slowing her pace as the Carrier drew closer to her.
Jersey and Galveston fully rejoined the party as they finally exited the treeline, coming into a grassy-field. The grass reached Jersey's hips, and almost completely concealed the shorter Maddox, ahead of them, perched on a gentle hill was an encampment, sandbags forming a low wall, interspersed with foxholes and small pillboxes made of more of the same. Several small buildings, mostly made out of the trunks of local trees, sat near the center of the fortifications.
The party stood and took in the sight for a moment, watching as distant figures swarmed about the area, a small group broke off, exiting what looked like a command center as the distant sound of rotors became louder and louder.
More than one AA gun was jerked upwards as the UH-1 swept over the Abyssals, the grass rippling in waves as the wind was kicked up by the vehicles' passing. The helicopter nosed up, coming in for a landing where the grass had been burned away to form a rough landing pad.
A man missing his left arm waved the craft down, and once the skids touched the dirt, Caleuche quickly jumped out of the troop compartment, laughing merrily as she twirled in-place, sending parts of her dress fluttering, which settled back down unnaturally slowly.
"Ah! Flight is truly marvelous, isn't it? It's a shame none of you wished to join me!" She said, practically yelling to be heard over the winding down rotors. She began walking towards the group as the men from the command center neared. "And it seems I've arrived just in time as well!" She gestured towards the men, who had come to a stop nearby, "This is one of the highest-ranking officers I've... retrieved so far, Gentlemen? Show your new masters to the war room, Jersey has an offensive to plan, after all."
One of the men, a man wearing a blackened PAVN uniform with a Major's insignia on the collar, gestured towards the Command building.
His peaked and... toothed cap didn't cover the neat, glowing blue bullet hole above his left eye. A sniper round, most likely, given he was wearing obvious officer's markings.
Jersey wrinkled her nose in disgust. Giving the Vietnamese revenant a wide berth, she started towards the indicated building, and was soon followed by the others.
They passed the perimeter defenses of the camp, under the silent presence of the guards placed there. For a fully-fledged camp, it was unnaturally quiet, their footsteps clearly audible. There wasn't so much as a mutter from the figures around them as they went about their business, the majority completely ignoring the Abyssal vessels in their midst. To the point some of them started to feel as though they were the specters, drifting unseen through the encampment.
"Not ones for conversation, I take it?" Galveston said, a little uneasily.
"Not particularly, one of those little... sacrifices, I spoke of." Caleuche said, "They can understand you perfectly well, and will obey in all things, but you will find they have a marked aversion when it comes to speaking."
"That's going to make planning difficult, I'm not breaking out fucking signal flags just to communicate with these... things." Jersey spat, as they came to the Command center's doors, her Rigging slowly came to a stop next to the door, releasing a low grumble as it settled down. Maddox stood opposite of it, her gaze and guns quickly snapping to every figure that came within twenty feet of an increasingly disturbed Kitty Hawk.
Caleuche waved the concern away as she let the PAVN Officer open the door for her, "Oh, that won't be a problem. An aversion is hardly incapability, after all." She stepped inside.
"I'll wait out here," Galveston said to Jersey quietly, "Something tells me Maddox will need the company."
Jersey merely nodded, stepping inside along with Kitty Hawk.
The men waiting in the command center were varied, aside from the man who'd led them there, there was one who wore the tiger stripes of ARVN, while another had the wide-brimmed floppy Boonie common to NLF forces. They looked up from the massive blown-up map that took up most of the room as the Abyssal Capital ships entered, but their relatively intact bodies took second fiddle to the fourth occupant.
There was an outline of a man wearing scraps of what could have possibly been a US uniform, though what tattered cloth remained was largely drowned out by the soft blue glow that acted as the room's primary light source. A paratroopers red beret, so torn by shrapnel as to be almost unrecognizable, practically floated on the glowing outlines' head.
He straightened with the rest to look at the ships, eyes mere pinpricks of light within his glowing form, as Calueche stepped forward.
She came to a halt near the table, whirling to face Jersey and Hawk, before clapping her hands together, smiling, before gesturing to the large map of Vietnam. There were several handfuls of pebbles off to one side of the table, each small pile painted a different color. To be used as unit markers and troop positions, most likely, and there were a few, surprisingly mundane, ballpoint pens and markers. No doubt salvaged from the ruins of the surrounding villages.
"Now then! As agreed, I've provided the pieces, now it's up to you to set the board, Battleship-Hime."