Here's the second part of the previous chapter. I had to rewrite this part from scratch after almost completing it.
Scream.
Would y'all believe me if I said that Hood was not meant to be the main character? She was only supposed to have that first chapter during Operation Rhein. After that, she was supposed to pass narration off to our Rear Admiral Jack Bell for the rest of the story.
We also have the approval of Admiral Nelson himself, boys, let's go.
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Jack watched as the girls ran laps around the track before him. The faster ones also tended to be on the smaller side. The two tallest ones were at least a lap behind the others.
Pennsylvania and Maryland, if I recall.
Both battleships. His task force had three of the mighty super dreadnoughts- going so far as to hold one of the Big Seven- but only the two in front of him were capable of action.
The one in the wheelchair watching alongside him could not, for obvious reasons.
He never dared dream he would be in command of one of the beautiful big-gun ships. His flights of fancy only ever reached a heavy cruiser, and that only if he were lucky.
Perhaps a Pensacola. Maybe even a Portland class if I made friends with the right people.
But to not only hold command over one of the Big Seven- an honor on its own- but to be given two others?
He would have chastised himself for being unrealistic, even in his dreams.
Maybe a carrier, like Lexington or Saratoga. Not many higher officers are eligible to run flight ops yet. I could've had a decent shot at commanding a carrier and performing reconnaissance duties. Not unlike on a destroyer picket. And my buddies at Annapolis called me an idiot for wanting to fly.
'Planes are dumb,' they said. 'Ships are on the ocean,' they said. 'No way any amount of planes could take down a battleship,' they said. He snorted.
I wish I could've said I told you so, Kidd, but according to Halsey, it was you who gave me this chance. I'll prove to the rest of the Admiralty that you were right.
A quiet cough knocked him from his thoughts.
"Are you feeling alright, sir?"
He tilted his head to his right. "Of course. I was simply planning the rest of the exercise. Had I been informed of just how out of shape and relaxed you all were I would have come with a more detailed punishment."
"Don't you mean plan?"
"I am aware of what I said, seaman Arizona."
"Oh."
Only the occasional sound of a girl passing them on their lap broke the ensuing quiet.
"...Do you need any help?"
His head tilted to the right once more. "Excuse me?"
Arizona coughed- a real, chest-wracking cough, and not a politely repressed one. "I'm not exactly being useful… so I wanted to know if I could do anything to help. Um, sir."
He bit down on his immediate response to tell her not to assume herself with an officer. Instead, he rolled a new idea on his tongue.
"I'm afraid that I acted unseemly toward…" he cringed as he nearly stumbled over what word he wanted to use, "the girls. You're one of them. I'd have your input as to how best handle this… outlying case."
She hummed. "Well, I don't think you're earning any brownie points with them acting like a DI."
He raised an expectant eyebrow at her.
"Sir."
"Good." He moved his hands from his sides and folded them behind him. "How else do you suggest I enforce discipline, then? None of them look like they have done PT. I doubt they have been to any equivalent to boot camp. They need to understand the structure and what is expected of them. Both physically and mentally."
Arizona giggled. "I'm sorry to say, sir, but you won't get anything done working them like that."
He took the bait. "What do you mean?"
"We don't need to exercise to build up muscles or stamina. We're ships made manifest. Unless the ship we're reflecting is affected in a serious way, we won't- can't- change. I could eat a hundred cookies every day and I wouldn't gain a pound. I could equally run a hundred miles every day and not lose one." She paused. "Though with my connection to my hull severed, I'm not sure if that is true anymore."
"Your connection?"
She nodded. "My bell."'
She reached inside of her jacket and pulled out a small, silver bell on a short length of black ribbon. "All ships have a bell. When we manifest, the bell is passed along as well." She held the small thing up toward him.
For the first time in their talk, he faced her, and gingerly took the bell from her hand.
It's exactly like the bell from the Arizona…
He remembered all the Sunday mornings he had spent in Pearl after his wife's passing. He regretfully did not attend services for several weeks afterward. His faith was under too much duress, and he couldn't bear to look at the pitying face of Father Menard. He had wed them, and he had presided over her funeral. Jack instead spent those mornings on the foredeck. Studying the Arizona's bell. Any stray mark or nick would bring his wrath upon any enlisted men unfortunate enough to be nearby to polish it several times over. He rubbed it between his fingers, feeling for a familiar scuff on the rear of the bell. An ensign practicing for the fleet baseball tournament had lost his grip on the bat and threw it into the bell, leaving a shallow and overall superficial mark. Only he, who spent every Sunday morning when he should have been at church and appraising it, would notice.
His thumb passed over the scuff mark. Even in its tiny form, the mark was there.
Only when he noticed a hand held expectantly in his view did he stop his errant thoughts. He placed the bell back into her waiting hand.
"If you've lost your connection, how do you still have the bell?"
"I broke it."
He raised an eyebrow. "You broke it?"
She nodded. "When the attack happened I was on my way from the dorms to my hull for the inspection that morning. I… I felt the bomb hit. It hurt like nothing I've ever felt before. The fires burning all over the deck- the phantom fires burning all over my skin..." She wrapped her arms around herself, clutching her little silver bell. "I couldn't take it. I collapsed onto the concrete and just cried. When the armor piercing bomb hit my foredeck I…"
He wrung his hands behind his back; his shoes suddenly became extraordinarily uncomfortable and shifted from foot to foot. His thoughts were jumbled and indecisive. His eyes and ears told him that this was a hurting young woman, but that warred with the warnings that Halsey gave him earlier.
What a terrible, insidious thing we've done. Giving these things emotion.
She choked back a sob.
He rested his hand on her shoulder and gripped it gently.
Please stop talking. I don't need this today.
"I wet myself." She continued with a choked laugh. "The bomb broke my keel, and with it, my back. I couldn't do anything. I just laid on the concrete, crying, feeling my skin burn. I hadn't even noticed the pain in my legs had stopped. I just ripped my bell off."
She paused for half a breath. "I thought it would kill me. I was hoping it would. The pain would've stopped. The phantom flames went away, but I was still left broken and crying on the concrete. I almost wish-"
He tightened his grip on the young woman's shoulder. He was incredibly uncomfortable and out of his depth. He supposed he should be. It wasn't pleasant, nor should it have been.
He pointedly ignored her self-questioning. "Don't borrow pain from yesterday, Arizona. Days passed and whatnot. I'll make sure you girls are the best fighting force in the Pacific. I can promise you that much."
He didn't dare look down when his hand was wrapped in smaller, shaking hands. "Thank you, Commander Bell. Thank you."
She thanked him over and over until it faded to white noise, and he still refused to look down. He didn't want her to know that he just wanted her to stop blubbering.
Bell felt his eyes water, and he blinked several times to try and dry them, but when that failed, he rubbed them away in annoyance. It wasn't out of place for him with these girls. He wasn't blind. He could see how they looked at him after he chewed out San Diego and Maryland.
It wasn't ideal, but none of this was what he had been trained for at Annapolis. He wanted to make excuses to himself, and they came thick and fast.
I wasn't trained for this. It was unexpected. I was put on the spot with no plan. I still can't believe these women are reflections of ships. They may not be human. They could crush me on a whim. I'm by myself with no fleet officer above me.
All of them were excuses and nothing more. He chastised himself for even attempting to pawn off his mistake as something no one else could've done. Excusing a mistake because it wasn't expected of him made him an excuse for any rank officer, even down to the lowest ensign.
He shook his thoughts away. They weren't even making sense any longer. If he allowed himself any more time to think, he would just devolve into the same dark spiral that nearly caused him to collapse when Diana died. He would do the same thing he did when she left him.
Bury himself into his assignment.
He gave Arizona one last squeeze of her shoulder before removing his hand and taking a step forward and onto the track. Girls slowly began piling up in front of him as he stood in their way. Once the last girls had come to a stop, he spoke.
"Excellent work, all of you. Especially you, San Diego."
"I'm… hah, number one… hah… woo…"
"Yes… Commendable work all around. You may all follow Seaman Arizona back to the dorms and change into fresh clothes. I am required elsewhere for a moment, but I expect you all to return by fifteen hundred."
A chorus of tired 'yes, sir' limply echoed in front of him. San Diego tried to lurch forward but was clotheslined by a blue-haired girl- Helena, if he remembered correctly.
"Hmph. Nice catch there, Seaman Helena. You are all dismissed."
With that, the rest of the girls finally began to move and left a tired San Diego lying on the gravel of the track. He stood over top of her as she rolled on the ground, panting.
"You're dismissed, San Diego."
"I know… I'm just… really comfortable here, Commander."
He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure? That's cement."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm… I'm fine. Peachy, even."
"I won't chew you out if you complain."
"OhmyGodI'msotired Commandeeeerrrrrr." She whined.
She held her arms into the air expectantly.
"I can't touch you without your permission, San Diego."
"Please pick me up, scary Commander man."
He frowned and shook his head before grasping her raised hands and pulling her to her feet. "That's scary Commander man, sir, to you."
She hummed to herself. "Yes!"
Jack took a half step back. "Pardon?"
"I'll see you again at fifteen hundred, Commander man sir!" She yelled as she ran at a sprint back to the dorms; her chew-out and exhaustion had been wholly forgotten.
Jack motioned to say something but stopped himself and just shook his head at what was rapidly becoming his most hyper-active and most annoying subordinate.
"I swear it's more like having a daughter I've given too much sugar to than a sailor."
He shook his head and began his short walk toward the Mess.
I sent Ms. Hood to get the children ice cream, and the Mess is the only place on base she could get some readily. I need to speak with her about what I'm going to do with the children. I know what Halsey's dossier said, but I'm still uncomfortable with the whole idea of sending what appear to be children to war. Oh, and speak of the Devil.
Walking toward him with purpose in her uneven step was his new secretary. He initially wrote her off as a rebranded British naval attaché, but with her sharing the name of the fallen British battlecruiser that sank a few months back, he was almost certain she was one of them now.
I suppose I should ask her precisely what duties were assigned to her now that I figure that she's one of those ship things instead of a person. Ugh, I should have asked Halsey while I was with him earlier today.
As she neared him, he opened his mouth to question her but was cut off almost immediately.
"Miss Ho-"
"Jack!"
He blinked. "Yes?"
She took a deep breath. "Jack, I love you, but I believe we need to talk."
Excuse me?
His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish, but he couldn't form them into any words.
"I just feel that you need to know that I appreciate you and what you do, but that I am on loan from the Royal Empire and I am not here as a secretary."
She was left panting after her quick rant, and Jack simply stared.
I. What. Huh?
For a moment, he saw her again. Diana's brown hair instead of the woman before him's blonde. Her British accent slipping into that sweet Georgia drawl that he always loved to hear.
He blinked, and his wife was gone again—the blonde battlecruiser left in her place.
He squeezed the bridge of his nose and counted to ten.
"What did you say?"
She stood up straighter. "Jack, I love you-"
He held his hand up sharply to silence her. He stepped into her and held his hand near her face.
"Should I ever- ever- hear you speak those words to me again I will have you court martialed and sent back to your shitty little trash island in the Atlantic faster than you can spell your own name, miss Hood."
Her eyes were wide in panic, but he spun on his heel and walked away before he said something even worse to her. He didn't care if he hurt her; it simply didn't matter.
That's it. I'm done. I'm finding Admiral Nimitz, and I'm asking to be reassigned. I don't care if I'm demoted back to Lieutenant Commander again. I'm sorry, Kidd, you just didn't know me as well as you thought.
Hood didn't call out to him or chase after as he believed she would, and he was all the happier for it.
After several minutes of walking, he finally turned his head back to see if she was following him. She wasn't. His anger and confusion alongside his exhaustion finally caught up with him, and he tossed himself onto a nearby bench under a large Jacaranda tree.
At least there's shade here. It's been hot these past few days, and this uniform was not meant for it.
He took a deep breath before covering his face with his officer's cap. "Oh, Sweetheart, what would you say if you saw me like this? What would you have me do?"
He lifted his cap back off his face and held it in his hands. He ran his thumb over the silver eagle emblazoned on the front. He began to hum 'Star Spangled Banner' while turning the headwear in his hands.
"It was just something to do. It was just something to do."
A voice from across the way made him look up. "Tag, you're it!"
He raised an eyebrow.
The girls?
A distance away were the four destroyers that he had Hood chaperone to get ice cream. It seems like they were burning off their evident sugar rush by playing a game of tag right in the middle of the base. They ran in circles without a care in the world. Around trees, around benches, around sailors and marines. Each time they ran around a sailor or marine, they would just receive a laugh and a shake of the head.
"Look at them running without a care in the world."
Jack turned his head to another officer that stood nearby.
"Don't they know we're at war?"
Jack frowned. "They're children. They're acting like children."
The man's face soured. "They're ships designed for war. They should be preparing to sortie or doing something that builds their fighting abilities."
Jack stood up. "Those are dangerous words to say aloud."
"My apologies," his tone belied the insincerity, "I'm Commander Reynolds. I was good friends with Kimmel, so I'm fully aware of what those things are, don't worry."
"Doesn't it still bother you? With how they look? How they act?"
Reynolds snorted. "Of course not. It can all be chocked up to being undisciplined. A little order will get them into fighting shape. It'd certainly do to stymy whatever nonsense is running through their heads right now."
He side-eyed Jack. "Some discipline would do them well right about now. Perhaps you should say something, hm?"
He sighed. "I'm still in charge of them for the next few minutes. I suppose I should say something to them, shouldn't I?"
He placed his cap back atop his head and began walking to the destroyers. He called out when he got near them. "Hey! Girls, what are you doing?"
They all froze like deer caught in headlights.
Benson broke the silence. "Playing tag!"
He fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes. I can see that. Why did you decide to do it here, though? Surely there is a better place for this?"
All four of them looked between each other. "Nope," said Benson.
"There was one place-"
Benson quickly put a hand over her little sister's mouth. "Shh! He's not supposed to know that!"
"I'm not supposed to know what?"
Benson realized what she said and cringed. "Uh…"
"We used to play tag in Mrs. Bell's yard when you were at work." Downes helpfully added.
"She did, did she…" Bell muttered.
Well, that explains why Diana would always pay so much attention to the lawn.
Benson took a step toward him while dragging her shoes on the ground and doing all her best to look pathetic.
"Mrs. Bell told us to stop when she got sick because she thought you'd be upset at us running in the yard…."
Dear Lord above, I am only a man. Did Diana seriously think that I would be upset with children? For being children?
A cocktail of emotions welled up within him at the revelation.
He couldn't place what he was feeling, but he hated it. Hated that Diana thought anything less of him. Hated that he had forced a little girl into begging him not to be upset. He hated that he couldn't place what he was feeling.
He stepped forward and placed a hand on Benson's shoulder. "I'm not upset. Do you still know where my- where Mrs. Bell's house is?"
Benson nodded nervously.
"Then go play tag back there, alright? I'd rather you all play there than in the middle of the military base. I won't be upset with you."
Her face lit up. "Really?"
He nodded.
He also didn't have time to move out of the way as Benson launched herself into him.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! C'mon girls!"
Benson unlatched herself from Jack and dragged the other girls back toward his house.
Both men watched the girls run off toward his small home at the edge of the base.
Reynolds shook his head. "The Top Brass won't appreciate that."
Jack looked over. "As far as the Azure Project is concerned, Commander Reynolds, I am the Top Brass."
The other man folded his arms. "I still don't understand what you're doing. It's not like I put my sidearm on the table when I leave and expect it to go get ice cream or something stupid like that. It's a gun."
"Perhaps if your Colt had the capability to eat ice cream it'd want some." Bell sniped back.
"A gun's a gun. No matter how you dress it up to be otherwise."
"I don't know about you, but even if a gun is just a gun, if I could I would happily feed my pistol ice cream if it wanted some. I don't know why it would, but I feel that it would be interesting if nothing else."
Reynolds snorted. "And maybe you could ask what it thought of war, too? Leave philosophy to those eggheads in the Universities. I have a war to win. Have fun with your kindergarten."
Commander Reynolds turned on his heel and walked away without another word. Jack watched him leave, and he understood that feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He'd be leaving those girls in the hands of not just some random officer, but Commander Reynolds. A man who was explicit in his feelings toward sending those young girls into combat. Into war.
He wouldn't stand for it.
He began to pace. There had to be some way for him to get around it. Some loophole to exploit.
I've been exploiting loopholes ever since Annapolis. If I can figure out how to get booze through security, I can figure out how to keep these young girls away from the firing line.
"The easiest way to get around the issue would be to remove the issue. They're ships made manifest. That's what Arizona said. If that's the case then the ship itself must be untouched. If that's true, then they can still be manned by a regular compliment of crew."
Sure, he mocked in his head, Just get some sailors. Find a handful of lower officers and a whole bunch of enlisted and just shove them onto the destroyers. So easy. I just have to find a bunch more sailors in the middle of a war. I'm at a naval base, but there-
His brainstorming had so consumed him that he had bowled over a passing marine. Untangling himself, the marine jumped to his feet and quickly patted his uniform down before pulling Jack to his feet.
"I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't mean to be where you were walking, sir! I'll accept all responsibility, sir!"
He didn't want to admit it, but he found a dark satisfaction at the marine stumbling over himself to apologize and address him properly after dealing with his new fleet all morning.
"What's your name, marine?"
"Private Second class Eric Langley of the California, sir!"
"California? She took quite the hit a few weeks ago."
"Several, sir. She'll be out of commission for quite some time. But I'm sure you already knew that, of course, sir."
Jack nodded along. "So what are you doing now, Langley? Your ship is out of commission."
"I'm waiting for new standing orders, sir. Me and a lot of the other boys from the battleships that were hit. We've asked about new assignments, but we've been told to 'hurry up and wait,' sir."
This is my chance. I'm an admiral. I have more than enough authority to reassign some men. It's not like I'm taking them from ships that are seaworthy.
Jack placed his hands behind his back. "And from what ships are these other boys from?"
"A whole bunch, sir. My ship, Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Helena, Cassin, Downes, Laffey, and I'm sure I missed a few.
The old crews of the ships under the Azure Project. It didn't occur to me that those men would have to go somewhere.
"And would you know where the officers of the Cassin and Downes are about now?"
"Of course, sir. I wasn't a part of them small ships, but all the officers that have not much else better to do all just hang about in officer country on the west end."
"Are you under orders of another officer at the moment?"
He emphatically shook his head. "No, sir."
"Then find as many officers of the Cassin and Downes as you can. If you are able, also tell some of the officers of the battleships and Helena if they want an assignment aboard a destroyer. Tell them you're there on behalf of Rear Admiral Bell."
The marine gave him a strange look when he said his name, but he straightened his back and gave a sharp salute. "Sir, of course, sir. I'm sure they'll be tickled pink that they have any assignment, sir."
"I certainly hope so. You're dismissed."
"Sir!"
Relaxing from parade rest, the marine took off jogging toward the west side of the base.
Hopefully, this solves that issue. I know enough enlisted men should join up; they need the pay. I'm just worried not enough officers from the old battlewagons will take a job aboard destroyers. The best-case scenario is I get most of the officers from Cassin and Downes and transplant them onto the Laffey and the Benson. Or, hell, just the original crew of the two destroyers.
He took a mental pause. "Why am I complicating this so much? I could've just asked that marine for the original crews to report. Oh, damn it all."
He shook his head.
I swear I can still hear Diana in my ear yelling at me for being able to simplify the most complex things and yet overcomplicate the simplest. I'll have to sort this through in a short bit, but for now, I think just getting any sailors would be good. I want to leave as soon as possible. Halsey wanted me to set sail just after him in case we required air cover on our voyage to the Azure Base. He should still only be two or three hundred miles out. Within operational range, if needed.
"Admiral Bell?"
He turned his head toward the speaker. "Miss Hood? What are you doing here?"
The blonde woman kept her back straight and didn't rest any weight on the glossy-black cane by her side.
Had she been using a cane earlier?
"I came to find you, sir. I do not presume myself to how you may feel to me, but I am still your second in command on this venture. In this, I am to be by your side at all times."
He turned his body fully toward her.
She's talking far more rigidly than she was earlier.
"So that is what the admiralty was thinking, bringing you on. Tell me why exactly the Royal Navy sent you."
"The Royal Navy admiralty sent me as a liaison between the Royal Navy and the Eagle Union Navy and provide my fighting experience as your second in command to the new Azure Project directive." She recited as if reading from a script.
He closed his eyes and sighed. "I suppose that is sound enough reasoning." He opened them and looked at his new second in command.
"I need you to go to the West end and bring as many sailors as you can drum up. I'm sure even ones we can't find a ship for will be useful for running the day to day operation of the new base. Halsey didn't assign me any men, so I'll be acquiring them myself."
Hood shallowly bowed her head. "Excellent idea, sir."
He studied her for a moment before responding. "I have a Marine gathering officers. Make sure they get to Ford island. I'll give them their orders once there. With any luck, we'll be leaving Pearl tomorrow at first light. Did you understand all of that?"
Hood raised her eye to meet him before looking down. "Yes, sir. I'll endeavor to meet your expectations."
She nodded her head down in deference before turning and walking off. Jack simply watched her walk further away for several minutes before lifting his officer's cap and running his hand through his dark hair. "I was the one who was insulted, so why do I feel like I'm the bad guy here?"
He shook his head and secured his cap back onto his head.
It was time to leave Pearl.
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Each review gives Hood a hug after her botched apology.