AMK Aardwolf rubbed the last vestiges of her eyes as she rose from her knees and stood-

Wait … what?

Hands?

Face?

Arms?

Legs?

Body?

"What's happening?" She worrisomely grumbled, her voice largely inaudibly.

She was completely unprepared for this extraordinary experience, as disorientation completely overcame her once she stood erect. Her knees all be completely buckled, sending her tumbling backwards in a semi-drunken stupor. Landing on her back, she lazily outstretched her arms, completely ignoring the sizeable splash she created beneath her. Reflexively, she rolled leftward, assuming a lethargic quadriplegic position. But upon doing so, the sight and salty touch of the ocean left her frozen.

Almost immediately, a petrified gaze formed on her face; however, she hardly felt her facial muscles as she sprung backwards. In fact, it took her a moment to realise that she stumbled a few metres and was standing again. There was just one problem.

She was standing on water.

"What is happening?" She uttered in her native Dutch tongue, "But … but, nie. I'm not … God."

Suddenly, a familiar electronic chirp rung in her left ear. Without conscious thought or hesitation, her left hand instinctively reached and grasped … a throat microphone?

"Unidentifiable vessel, if you're receiving our frequency, please resp - *FIZZLE* - le plus rapidement possible." A female voice called on the radio; however, Aardwolf's eyes dilated slightly, apparently detecting the familiar Wallonia hints and drawls.

On a hunch, Aardwolf paused momentarily before transmitting her response, "This is AMK Aardwolf, hearing you loud and clear. Who am I speaking to?"

After a momentary burst of static, all was silent.

"AMK Aardwolf, c'est AMK Liège, c'est - *FIZZLE* - to see you again."

"Liege?" Aardwolf blinked, gradually reassured from hearing a familiar name, "Are you alright?"

"Oui. You?"

Aardwolf was about to reply, but she barely heard the first word exit her mouth when she heard an audible grainy fizzle in her ears. Nonetheless, she said, "-good."

"Curious: Can - *STATIC* - exécuter un contrôle - *FIZZLE* - check?"

"Check what?"

"Repeat: Run a diagnostic check; your translator is malfunctioning."

"Begrepen. Stand-by."

Shortly after, she stood there for a moment, eventually seeing a holographic loading wheel with text underneath that read:

HERSTARTEN.

A minute later, a system check prepared a long check list; however, Aardwolf largely skimmed over the details, mentally scrolling through the following list:

IFF? Online.

FLIR? Online.

NODs? Online.

Radar? Online.

Sonar? Online.

Radio(s)? Online.

Bluetooth? Online.

Jammers? Online.

Encryption? Online.

Decryption? Online.

DBMS? Online.

Satnav? Offline.

Wi-Fi? Offline.

"No internet connections?" Aardwolf inaudibly muttered to no one in particular, "Great. That's one less point of attack, I suppose."

Glancing upward, she shook her head, spotting the bright clear morning sky overhead, "No constellations in this weather."

Swiveling her head in all directions, she reached for her throat mic and contacted Liege, "Comm check?"

"Comm check, reading you loud and clear."

"It was a bright cold day in April..."

"And the clocks were striking thirteen."

"Okay..." Aardwolf sighed, partially relieved so far; however, upon clearing her throat, she briskly sang, "Mary had a little lamb."

"Little lamb, little lamb."

"Mary had a little lamb..."

"It's fleece was white as snow."

"Everywhere that Mary went..."

"Mary went, Mary went."

"Everywhere that Mary went..."

"The lamb was sure to go."

"Mary had a little lamb."

"Little lamb, little lamb."

"Mary had a little lamb..."

"It's fleece was white as snow." Liege concluded, her voice remaining cold and calculative after all, "Playful Taunt: Your singing is awful."

"Good, that means my translator is working properly. Otherwise, I hate that rhyme."

"Cordially Sarcastic: Me neither."

"You don't need to be so formal, I can understand you."

"Oui?"

"Ja. Anyway, what's going here?"

"No idea."

"W-Well..." Looking over both shoulders, she stuttered, "Where are you?"

"Not telling you, but look around, I'm here."

"Okay."

Ceasing communications with a gentle electronic trill, she slowly reassessed her surroundings, not akin to the panic-fuelled swivelling moments ago. And unlike earlier, gradual and careful squinting allowed Aardwolf to zoom her vision in and out - an ability met with a few doubtful head shudders and shakes. There, a few minutes later, she spotted an thin antenna protruding from the water.

"Okay, I see you." Aardwolf stoically confirmed, narrowly withholding her excitement, "It's okay - I see nothing above."

"Oui?"

"No planes. No radio traffic. And no ships within 100km."

"Very well. Here I come."

Tensely, she watched the antenna retract beneath the sea. But while she waited, upon lowering her binoculars and retracting her radio, a confounded frown apparently morphed on her face.

"How the hell did I do that?" Aardvark audibly pondered to no one; however, a brief massage on her left ear left her surprised, "Headset?"

The touch of half-spherical plastic encasing her ears was a dead giveaway. Had it not been for her earlier fear and confusion, she would have seen the austere headset in the watery reflection. There were so many questions she needed to ask at this point, as her fear was largely transforming to curiosity and vigilance.

Speaking of vigilance, she briskly rose her binoculars, spitting a pale-skinned head peering above the surface moments later.

"Eh? You anthropomorphised too?" Aardwolf blinked perplexingly, increasingly puzzled by Liege's 'new' form, "Guess that makes two of us…"

There was the undeniable silhouette of a lightweight headset on Liege's head, partially covering her left ear while encasing her entire right ear. But on that very headset, the right side had a long, thin antenna - an exact match of the same antenna seen moments earlier. With one mystery solved, it was now left open for another one: AMK Liege herself.

With short grey hair and grey hawkish eyes, the submarine 'shipgirl' silently and elegantly swan towards her. While compatriots, only seeing Liege's hair, eyes, and headset was subtly menacing. If Aardwolf was none the wiser, she would have been steaming - or rather fleeing - full speed ahead, terrified by the sight of a tiny predator lurking towards her.

Once Liege came about a few metres aways, her radio chirped to life, "Good to see you again."

"Likewise." Aardwolf acknowledged, albeit in a moderately accented voice, "Ah … I can check to see-"

An faint creaking sound almost startling her as she looked behind. On her back was this 'contraption' protruding from what looks like her hip, consisting of identical apertures of her main deck and superstructure. From all outward appearances, she looked like a small 1960s cruise liner, something greatly distinguished by the blue fin-shaped funnel and her hull's flush white colour.

"Ce qui se passe?" Liege chirped on the comms.

"Uh … nothing."

"Oui?"

"I just ... what the hell is happening to us?"

"Same."

"One second, it was a clear early morning, then a storm came along and ... whoosh~! But I don't understand."

"Understand what? Being ... human?"

"N-N ... I don't know. Is this what it feels to be ... human?"

"Skeptical Pursuant: The Laws of Physics - Newtonian and Meta - can't explain any of this, but the experience is..."

"Don't say it."

"Begrudging Quipping: Fascinating."

"Tsh, you just have to talk like Spock, do you?"

"Whimsically: The only 'logical' theory to all this is that we were destroyed and then reincarnated - Spock had a similar situation."

"Ja, except he transferred his memory to the good doctor, as the resurrected man himself was an empty shell."

"Then what does that make us?"

The Dutchwoman paused, shrugging her arms before placing them on her waist. Despite this, Liege remained silent, allowing her compatriot to ponder.

"I guess you can say that we are, quote-on-quote..." Aardwolf proposed, "Humanised."

"Grimly: Humanised is a ... woefully ... oversimplified statement."

"Well, let me tell you this. The following is official: I really want to know what happened to us. Ships don't simply turn into people, even if we are considered women in accordance to tradition and namesakes."

"Skeptically Investigative: But you and I know that we are anything but human. If our size corresponds to humans, we would be disproportionally gigantic."

"Then we better reestablish communication with the Troopstaffs. Talkstaff, Truckstaff, Wingstaff, or coalition, anyone that would be involved in the Irog's liberation."

"It's no use; I've already tried to establish contact but to no avail."

"You ... too?"

"No wi-fi; no cellphone data; no comm traffic; no satellites; not even a sliver of interference. It's therefore a foregone conclusion that we are, as the Americans infer, 'Not in Kansas anymore'."

"That I can only partially believe. We were nowhere near any phenomenons, and the Arabian peninsula is known for fierce sandstorms, not electromagnetic or aeronautical anomalies, not like the Bermuda Triangle."

"Mutually Assuring: I know. Nothing makes sense." Liege nodded, "So, what do you say? You want to stick together or spread out?"

"Right, we'll split up, but let's stay within 100km of each other. That way, if we run into trouble, one of us can follow the other."

"Okay - ca a l'air bien."

"Bien, ja, ja." The Dutchwoman briskly nodded, "You ready to go?"

"Ardently: Oui."

"Okay, let's go."

With a curt nod, Liege noiselessly sunk underwater, leaving Aardwolf alone once again.

At the moment, the spy ship didn't hesitate with probabilities and fears. There was much work to be done, and the first thing she did was ... move. But before she could consider Liege's assistance, Aardwolf thought of moving forward, which to her surprise, she began to sail ahead.

"Huh, this is surreal." Aardwolf muttered perplexingly, uneasily content above all.

But as quickly as she began to accelerate, a few seconds barely transpired when a holographic speedometer appeared in her right peripherals. The reading?

9.2 km/h - approximately four knots.

"Are you kidding me? I'm going so damn..." She grumbled internally; however, her frown quickly morphed into a stupefied glare, "Oh wait a minute ... Stirling engines. I forgot..."

For the next ten minutes, she kept half of her attention fixated on her speed, watching it sluggishly climb until it maxed to 37.1 km/h. Remotely and motionlessly summoning another holographic display in her right peripherals, she eyed the eight beta type Stirling engines (four on each side) reciprocating at high speed. Fuelled and cooled by nothing more than liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen, the Stirling engines were beginning to reach their limits.

"Aardwolf, check your engines - 35 decibels is extremely loud." Liege 'coldly' notified, but Aardwolf can tell that the submarine shipgirl was concerned, "And check your speed - You are way above my maximum engine power."

"I'm stretching my legs. Sorry to leave you behind."

As compliant as she was to her French-speaking compatriot, she was deceptively reluctant. But in order to use her electronics at maximum efficiency, something needed to give. She can keep going fast but be 'extremely loud', or she can slow down and put her 'senses' to the test.

Ultimately, she chose the latter.

Within four minutes, she slowed to 10 km/h (5.3 knots), where, almost magically, her engines were completely silent. In fact, there was hardly the slightest sliver of vibration, which revealed a surprise. Listening closely and switching the camera view for an info chart, there was the temperature throughout the entire ship, or rather, Aardwolf herself.

Internal [body] temperature? 24°C.

Engine coolant temperature? -187°C.

Computer temperature(s)? -204°C.

With her electronics using cryogenic liquid cooling (LN2 coolant; heat exchangers), she had no moving parts - no noisy/shaky fans and overheated components in sight. The closest semblance to noise was the diminutively faint, albeit harmonic, humming of electricity and bubbling fluids ... if she listened extremely carefully and patiently. Needless to say, she never heard such sounds anyway, not when-

"AMK Aardwolf," Liege abruptly alerted, "There is a wolfpack 85km north of your position."

"Class and specs?"

"Humanoid, like us. If my readings are correct, they have steel hulls, diesel-electric propulsion and non-smart torpedo weaponry."

"Copy." Aardwolf acknowledged, withholding her confoundment from the first bit of data, "ETA?"

"165 minutes. Pursuant: Uploading Alternative Coordinates."

Before Aardwolf could ask the French-speaking shipgirl, a holographic global grid appeared in her left peripherals. On the globe, there were five triangles northward, with Aardwolf (plus Liege) marked as blue squares. Trailing ahead the wolf pack was their possible course - dead ahead for Aardwolf - and ETA, leaving the Ausslaugandian spy ship with two options: head east or west as soon as possible.

"Turning." Aardwolf stoically called to Liege.

"Following."

Traveling at 36.8 km/h, all was tense for AMK Aardwolf as she raced westward. There was no communication between the duo, especially since one of them can hide underwater while the other couldn't. On the other hand, upon triangulating the bogeys' radio frequency, her distressed glare was morphed into a tense frown.

If words could describe what was occurring in her head, it all started in a small rectangular CIC.

At one workstation, a young man in a blue baseball cap and austere navy uniform was busy typing at his computer. Having received the radio frequency, he was now tasked with studying the frequency's encryption. Between each transmission, five-numeral groups were received, and to the untrained eye, such numbers meant nothing. But for the authorised cryptanalyst, he was looking at a simple encryption. For the sake of stealth and cleanliness, instead of using the trial-and-error method (brute force), the analyst sat and waited for more messages, passively gathering information.

With the assistance of 21st century software, it was soon discovered that the five-numeral groups were divisible by three. Most importantly, when the AI compiled the data, it created a list of 30,000 possible code groups and 30,000 possible random additives. In the span of an hour listening and gathering the simple encrypted transmissions, 2,071 code groups were a match with the list. Closer analysis revealed a very particular clue: between 500 - 1,300 code groups and additives were appearing in a consistent, systemic pattern.

On a hunch, he transferred his findings to the authorised linguist, who, using his own software, rearranged and categorised each group and additive. The result was startling: the codes spoke in a manner identical to a SOV (Subject-Object-Verb) word order. Though the cryptanalyst's data was rather scant, it was enough for the linguist to briskly retransfer his own findings to the cryptanalyst, who had gathered 1,500 additional code groups and 900 additives beforehand. Very quickly, it soon became apparent that each code group and additive was forming a consonant-vowel cluster. Wasting no time in transferring his new findings back to the linguist, the sounds were combined together, forming individual words, and rebuilding each phrase from scratch. This finally allowed the linguist to analyse how the words were used in relation to each other.

Linguistics is not so much the study of what a person says, but how they say it. How people combine words to make phrases and sentences is known as syntax. So, when the linguist listened to the phonetic sounds, it soon became apparent that this was not Dutch, French, or English. Almost immediately, the linguist picked up his desk phone, relaying the information to the bridge...

"Japanse?" She muttered internally, finally able to intelligibly eavesdrop the foreign conversations.

It was only a moment later that Liege spoke again, "Okay, you're out of periscope range - we're all clear."

"Bedankt." Aardwolf sigh in relief, cutting her speed to half astern within a five minutes; however, not a moment too soon, she urgently called back, "Liege?"

"Oui?"

"I have a lock on the wolfpack broadcasts - they're Japanese."

"Japanese? The JMSDF?"

"No, their encryption should be more secure. This encryption is too primitive for their liking."

"How does it look?"

"Hier, stand-by." Relieving pressure off her throat mic, the spy ship reached touched her headphones, where a moment later, a soft female robotic voice notified 'Verbonden' - her Bluetooth was online.

Briefly scoping around, she located Liege's antenna a few kilometres to her rear, where upon transferring the data...

"Mon dieu, c'est des ordures." Liege frigidly cursed, clearly dumbfounded despite her emotionless voice.

"You saw what I'm seeing?"

"Oui, no question."

"Why the hell would the JMSDF be using such rubbish encryption? This is the 21st..." Then, a thought occurred to Aardwof, where she audibly exclaimed, "Where are the submarines going?"

"Southwards at 39.1 km/h."

"Let's follow them. You go ahead, I'll trail behind out of sight."

"Begrepen. Hopefully they don't get too far."

"I may not be a GPS but I can track their radio strength."

"Ça a l'air bien. Allons-y."

With a slight smile on her face, Aardwolf made a shallow portside turn, traveling no faster than 13.5 km/h. Spotting Liege's antenna shrink beneath the waves in her peripherals, Aardwolf gradually reduced her speed to 6 km/h, allowing Liege to speed ahead of her at 22.1 km/h - Liege's maximum speed. Within a matter of hours, Liege would be more than 90 kilometers away from Aardwolf, but by no means able to close the distance with the surfaced wolfpack.

Nonetheless, the Ausslaugandian duo pressed onward, undetected for now...