Chapter 12: Through all, in spite of all
I was not heading to my regular quarters. The fleet sorties at dawn, and it would make more sense to spend the night on the command ship rather than wake up even earlier to then make my way to the ship. I have been moving my necessities on board over the past few days, so I probably had enough clothes and supplies to last the 2 weeks the Shipgirl arm was expected to remain on station for.
Barring a large-scale counter offensive, of course, in which the Northern Force would need the help of the battlewagons, which in that case I would burn through the uniforms I have, but at the same time the fleet would also run out of fuel so I guess dirty clothes would be the least of my concerns.
I entered my quarters, a 5 by 8-foot room with a bed that doubles as a bench for a desk bolted to the wall, complete with a locker at the foot of the bed. It reminds me of the days back in the academy, except there was no desk and it was a bunk bed. Yes, indeed, after being enrolled in the academy at 12, I, after another 12 years, am finally living the high life of not having to share a room.
On the desk was a framed polaroid from the first Christmas party we threw about 2 years ago. I was a reindeer with a round red nose, carrying a Haruna-Santa on my back. Funny, considering the year before I was almost expelled from the academy. It was not due to disciplinary issues — quite the opposite in fact. I was always shut-in, moreso since the war began with my dad going down on the bridge of USS Theodore Roosevelt in the defense of Hawaii, and the death of my mom, a communications officer, in Fortress Palau a year later. It was only due to one of the geezer's promises to my late parents that I was kept around as long as I was.
I was told I would make a master strategist, if my exemplary scores were anything to go by, but to get there I would need several decades of command, which I would never be suited for.
In a way, the Shipgirl Programme saved me. It became clear early on that a normal person plagued with...temptation...cannot be trusted with such assets, so High Command had to call on the socially inept to staff the Admiralty. And I was one of the weirdos chosen.
I was sent between a few second echelon supply bases over the next few months to get up to speed. I learnt quickly that normal military discipline does not and cannot apply to Shipgirls. Talking to some of them felt like interacting with a younger sibling or with a close female friend, or at least what I'd imagine it'd feel like seeing I had neither. I eventually chose a rather hands-off approach to daily operations, trusting that the girls would manage themselves, rewarding accordingly, and only intervening when absolutely necessary. Something tells me I was on the right track when I was ordered to take command of a front-line base, effectively immediately. Within 3 hours I was practically being manhandled onto a plane, a small pre-war private jet with most of its interior stripped out and replaced with extra fuel storage to allow for the 8 hour flight to the East Indies.
The door was closing as I was strapping myself into one of the jump seats at the end of the cabin when I heard a commotion coming from outside. The door opened briefly and in was shoved a young lady of about my height with long silver-gray hair and chocolate-brown eyes. Her non-traditional Miko outfit was less gaudy than other things I've seen shipgirls wear, but still gave her away as one, although I have never seen her before at the bases I've been on so far. She looked back at the door, flustered, but quickly noticed me observing her. Giving a curt bow, she sat at the seat closest to the door and strapped herself in as a few extra crates were being loaded on.
Just before takeoff, I shouted over the din of the engines: "Hello there, you can call me Johannes."
"Fast battleship, Haruna, reporting for duty. You're the admiral, correct? I'm looking forward to working with you." Was the shy response.
I guess I somehow broke the ice, because when the plane took off we were on opposite sides of the cabin, but she was asleep with her head resting on my shoulder when we landed 8 hours later. The rest, one can say, is history.
My attention then went to another piece of history; a Type 38 Rifle in the open locker. It was of interwar vintage, supposedly having been part Haruna's on board armoury (although she was never able to confirm or deny) and still chambered in the original 6.5mm Arisaka. I was the one who raised the Abyssals' weakness to historical formations to High Command, and coupled with rumours that USS Missouri was able to take out more Abyssals with her guns than modern missiles did before Hawaii fell, it was safe to assume that actual equipment used in the war was at least as effective as its modern counterparts. But for High Command to take it as far as they did and actually issue human personnel small arms older than our great-grandparents was really grasping at straws. Then again if the command ship came under attack I had something to take potshots with, or at least had a useful club.
It's amazing how far the fleet has come. I was posted to a base in disarray after an episode involving the previous Admiral, Yukikaze, and an aircraft ferrying run. There was barely any fuel, and the ledgers, or what was left of them, showed all the bauxite was used on the failure that was the Reppuu Kai project. Morale was in the dirt and the fleet composition was wonky, to say the least.
"What kind of retard would ask for all available aircraft carriers, and what kind of moron at high command would actually send him the first and second carrier divisions, as well as all the Unryuus?" I subconsciously asked myself. Being based in the East Indies allowed us to use the air groups stationed in Indochina and the few human-controlled bastions in the Indonesian Islands, and having a full seven fleet carriers here was a waste. The carriers drew lots to see who was to be reassigned. Akagi and Kaga stayed. Back then it was the short straw they drew, but seeing how much has changed since then, I think they are happy they had to stay.
Over time more girls were assigned to the base, some of whom I had the pleasure (or misfortune) to work with in previous posts, while others were reassigned to other districts, but most still came back occasionally for temporary deployments or supply escort runs, and it was heartwarming to see them catch up with old friends. I almost felt bad for pragmatically splitting up the carriers that were stationed here when I arrived. Ironic, it is, that I learnt humanity from beings that weren't even human.
As time went on operations in the East Indies intensified. The base went from a backwater patrol outpost (that for some reason had 40% of its strength comprising of fleet carriers) to a staging ground that housed the guardians of the East Indies. After the recapture of the last stronghold in Singapore all of South-East Asia west of the Wallace line was liberated. The fleet was ecstatic; High Command took note of the success and directly asked me for a report and combat analysis with particular emphasis on its impact on future planning, and then proceeded to ignore my suggestions, which led to this current operation.
I reflected on the past week; on the performance put up by Asagumo and Yamagumo; on Shigure's question; on Akagi's outburst; on Michishio's breakdown; on the afternoon in the office and the dinner date.
What are Shipgirls? Tactical doctrine treats them as naval units indistinguishable from steel-hulled vessels. The girls themselves identify as the actual warship of the name and era, with their memories of their operational histories and crew to boot. Yet that can't be it. If that were the case the cafeteria toaster that caught fire last week would be able to tell us which idiot tried to stuff in an entire sandwich if we ever chose to 'bring it back'. But would I want to talk to an anthropomorphic toaster if it is, in the end, just a toaster?
From the abyss of my subconscious came a verse from 'In Flanders Fields'.
"We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, loved and were loved, and now we lie."
Is that what it means to be human? To live, feel, sense? To love and to receive love?
Indeed. I guess if the toaster could experience the depth and breadth of human emotions and invoke the same emotions in others, then, it, following this line of reason, is a human. But then what would that make me before I was posted to the Shipgirl Branch of the navy? A walking toaster?
Looking back, there are many things I have done in my life that I regret. However, there are even more things I regret not doing. Maybe I should have hung out with the other cadets more. Maybe I should have joined them in their crazy stunts and acts of bravado. Maybe I should have lived for myself and not lived in the shadow of my parents, the Martyr of the Third Fleet and the Voice of Palau. But then again, I guess it is this chain of decisions that make up who I am as a person, the tapestry of my life choices being made up of the patchwork of my experiences, and if these experiences and decisions that led me to where I am now, I do not regret a darn thing.
My only regret for today however was being unable to address the fleet a final time. It was supposed to be an informal speech to everyone in the cafeteria, but because of what happened in the office I missed my chance. I did not have anything to say in particular, but I felt it was only polite to wish them well and calm their nerves, or at least try to. I shrugged and made a mental note to check if the ship was connected to the base public address system. Radio was out of the question for the sake of communications security, of course.
It is amazing how much time I can spend in my thoughts. Subconsciously I had done all of my needed pre-sleep maintenance and was now lying in bed, with the only thing left being to doze off.
It is surreal. Since I was a cadet I wondered what it would be like to have a room to myself. And yet now that I am getting my own quarters on the base and on the command ship, I feel unsatisfied, almost lonely. My eyelids are getting heavy as I reach out to the framed photo on my desk, feeling a final sense of warmth as I run my fingers over the girl in the red Santa dress.
AN: Happy belated IRL birthday to me (May 8), Happy belated 2nd Anniversary to Haruna (May 7), and Happy level 175-reaching to Haruna (May 9)