The door opened in silence as Admiral Davis stepped into his office. Sitting down behind his desk with a groan, a sharp rap on the still open door hit the Admiral's ears.
"Enter," he said as his aide stepped in, closed the door, and sat down across from him, "Quite a day, wouldn't you agree?"
"You can say that again sir," a slightly gruff southern accent said from her mouth.
Davis leaned on his desk, rubbing his eyebrows, "Why must you come and chat after a day like this?"
"Because sir," the voice continued, "You need it."
"Damn battleship," the Admiral said beneath his breath before replying a bit louder, "Alright, alright. Before you start yelling at me for letting the Japs on board, how's Defiant?"
"Hot-headed as usual," she said, "Battered to the heavens above and angry as hell. Got to keep an eye on her, she might try to rejoin the battle line if we aren't careful."
"You've been listening, I assume?" Davis asked, pausing a moment to get confirmation before speaking again, "Can't imagine the fleet is happy with our situation."
"Well, rumors are spreading through the squadrons like wildfire, not to mention what's going on in the Marine convoy," she elaborated, "but the fleet stands ready. We were skeptical about the whole thing until Defiant came back in looking like she does. Her sisters nearly blew their own power grids before we calmed them down. I do think we have a problem however. After talking with Rico while she was alongside a few hours ago, this action more than likely attracted some attention."
"Explain," the Admiral ordered.
"There are three factors. First is Burlington and Rico's accounts of the battle. Both of them report ships that were more visible with their optical rangefinders than their radar and flying a red flag. Given the evidence, and our prisoner, it's clear that the Chinese civil war ended with either a Communist victory or a complete split of the country. The destruction of their ships would draw attention when they fail to report in, either in air reconnaissance or deploying a battlefleet to combat what they think is an Abyssal task force. The other two factors are a bit more complex. The second factor is Defiant. She was trailing fuel oil when she passed, leaving quite the spread. And if I remember what Mother told me of the old stories, it would attract the enemy like sharks to blood if the Abyssals are indeed the same creatures she talked about. The third would be if they had a ship present. Your conversations with Enterprise, Yamato, and the others gave us the knowledge that the Abyssals are somewhere between primal and highly organized depending on the area and either way seem to be following typical operating standards of our time. None of the ships we deployed were equipped with sonar or a hydrophone so it's anyone's guess as to what could've been lurking beneath the surface."
The Admiral stayed silent for a second, thinking, before speaking again, "Well, tell the fleet to stay alert. With the damage to Defiant, we need to get to a friendly port before her pumps fail. O'Brien says her engineering crew is going to be working around the clock to keep her watertight."
The Admiral looked down at the papers covering the desk as he continued.
"With the Japanese task force alongside, we must be careful. The war we were fighting might be over, but we can not risk the fleet for their sake. The Wing is relying on us to maintain operational capacity."
Unknown to the Admiral, a pained grimace was painted across his aide's face as he continued to speak.
"Now, can you just answer me this question?" the Admiral said, looking back up to look at the back of his aide's head.
"What is it you want to know sir?" the voice replied quietly.
"Why the hell do you still use my aide in these conversations?"
His aide walked over to the porthole and stared out to the fleet beyond, "Because sir, it's the only way I can without directly influencing you in my current state. Yes, I can influence you. You and the rest of my crew. Why else do you think the good Lieutenant is even on board, much less your aide? We ships can't talk to our crews, the ones which forge our spirits, our very being, without a-a medium o-or a host. Sure we can influence them, but that's kind of a loop type of thing. You know, I influence you in a way which creates a set of actions which define more of my own personality, my soul, which then goes and influences you again, and on and on. With an intermediary, that doesn't quite happen. Of course, it takes a little bit of influence and adapting the chosen person to serve without them knowing, not to mention the fact that doing that is against the natural law of ship and crew."
"So you're telling me that you, my flagship, influenced the posting of my aide in order to possibly communicate, but it's breaking whatever laws you seem to have?" The Admiral iterated.
"It was necessary sir," she stated, "Even though something inside of me was screaming the first few times, I had to ignore it. You taught me that sir."
"Me?"
"Yes, Sir. You've shown that sometimes sacrificing our own morals and humanity to protect those back home is more than a fair price for victory. Even though those morals still get in the way, like your conversation with our prisoner."
Davis stood quickly.
"Explain," he growled, "Now."
"The little interview you had with our Chinese guest?" she continued, "He wasn't going to talk through civilized means. A slight nudge to change course, that was all."
"I can't believe you!" the Admiral exclaimed, "You had no right…"
"I had no right?" his aide yelled as she whipped around to face him, eyes glowing blue, "I have every right! You saw what they did that day, when we both saw Mother's corpse burning in Pearl? That day gave me every right to do what's been necessary for our continued survival! I. Saw. Her. I saw her body hanging from her forward tower, barely kept from falling into the burning waters below by a handrail. I screamed out as that same tower fell, crushing those swimming below. Don't you tell me what right I have to do what needs done in order to keep this fleet, my family, safe."
Suddenly, the deck beneath the two lurched as the sound of ripping metal echoed from below, throwing them across the room. The lights flickered as the Admiral got to his feet, plunging the office into darkness for a few seconds before the emergency lights kicked in, bathing everything in a red glow. The body of his aide lay sprawled across the floor, unmoving. Thinking quickly, Davis stepped over his aide and picked up the phone.
"Bridge," he barked into the receiver, "What the hell's going on?"
The voice that responded was intermittent and filled with static, "Unknown sir. Main power's out, as well as communications with the engineering decks. We've sent someone down to see what's going on."
Davis grimaced, "Signal General Quarters if you can. I want damage control parties active throughout the ship. If you can reestablish communications, get St. Helens and Pike's Peak alongside to assist."
A metallic groan interrupted the conversation as the room slowly began to tilt, and the line went dead. Frustrated, the Admiral slammed the phone back back down on its hook before stepping behind his desk. Ignoring the mess of papers, pencils and other items that had fallen onto the floor, he pulled out a key and unlocked one of the drawers. Sliding it open with nothing but a dull thunk, the Admiral pulled out a holster, several magazines, and a well-worn service pistol. A faint groan caught his attention and the Admiral made his way over to the body of the young Lieutenant as she slowly sat up.
"Sir?" she said, Lt. Johnson back in control, "what's going on? Why am I in your office?"
"Easy there," Davis said calmly, kneeling down, "You took a knock to your head when the power went out. Something's happened down below and we've lost contact with the bridge."
The Admiral helped Johnson back to her feet before returning to his sidearm.
"Johnson," he ordered, "Get to the bridge and take command on my authority. We need to stabilize the ship and get a message out to the fleet. Last thing I need is my commanders getting trigger happy because of this and starting to shoot at the Japs at point blank range. Have Blackbeard coordinate defensive efforts with the Japs. I want a joint defense perimeter set up quickly. Defiant may have attracted unwanted attention on her way back, and I don't want torpedoes ripping any more holes in my fleet."
"Understood sir," Johnson responded, "And what about you, sir?"
The Admiral pulled the slide on his pistol back, chambering a round, "I'm going below to save my ship."
