Chapter 49: U is for Update
Professor Crowning yawned as he shuffled his way back to the officer's suite the Navy'd put him up in. The small set of rooms had been his office, his bedroom… practically his universe for the past few months. He'd availed himself of the local bookstores to make sure his shelves were fully stacked, both with the literary greats and Naval reference books. He was still slowly working his way up from B is for Boat. But the Professor was eager to learn, especially when the applications were so immediately obvious.
Well, most of the time. Right now, he wasn't interested in anything more than the warm sheets of his bed. The battle off Alaska had lasted almost all day, and he hadn't left the CIC until almost midnight. He knew wasn't much he could do from the Admiral's bunker.
But… he couldn't just leave. Not until the girls were on their way to safety. He hated seeing them suffer. As much as watching Jersey get a chuck get torn out of the beautiful face of hers was, seeing destroyers in pain was harder.
Crowning was just about to open the door to his room when he heard a sound. A very small, very timid sniffle coming from inside the room. He let out a sigh, and gently pushed the door open to investigate.
A destroyer sat hunched over on his floor, her legs splayed out like someone'd just dumped the little girl out like a quivering puddle. Her head was buried in her hands, and her back hunched with each quiet sniffle. The writing across her baseball cap displayed her name and hull number, but Crowning didn't need the aid to recognize his little guest.
William D. Porter. The venerable screwup faerie given human form. "Dee?" he dropped to one knee next to the sobbing Fletcher class.
"Mmhm?" Dee glanced over at the professor, and promptly buried her face in his half-zipped sweater. "'m sowwwy!" she moaned.
Before Crowning could ask what she was so sorry for, he spotted it himself. Pooled at the girl's skinned knees was a shattered bowl of soup. The ceramic must've shattered when Dee dropped it, and it looked like she at least tried to clean it up. But it also looked like her actions only worked the soup deeper into the carpeting.
"I… I thought after…" Dee sniffed as she glanced up. Her chubby face was streaked with tears, and her huge blue eyes begged for forgiveness, "You'd like some hot dinner… I tried my best to make it really good and I broke it!"
Crowning grunted as Dee slammed her face back into his chest. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he was reduced to just grabbing Dee in a gentle hug while he caught his breath. "Easy, Dee."
"sorry" mumbled the little girl.
"Did you…" Crowning glanced at the spilled soup. Potatoes, beef, barley, it looked like hearty stuff. Even as a smear on the carpet, it looked good enough to eat, "Make all that?"
"Mmhm."
"It looks really good."
"Really?" Dee glanced up again, but this time there was a tiny glimmer of hope in those tear stained eyes.
"Really," said Crowning. After a moment's thought, he reached up to ruffle the destroyer's russet-brown hair. "Maybe you can make it again sometime?"
"I… I could." Dee wiped her face with her sleeve. "Thanks, doc."
"Anytime, Dee." Crowning glanced to the puddle of throughly ground-in soup. There wasn't anything either of them could do about it. Not if he wanted to get to bed at a reasonable hour… "Tell you what… why don't we take care of this in the morning?"
"It.. it is the morning," said Dee.
Crowning sighed. Technically, she wasn't wrong. But the professor had never really considered 'one-twenty-seven AM' to be 'in the morning.' "I mean after I get some sleep."
"Oh," Dee nodded, "Okay. If you're sure you don't mind."
Crowning felt the irresistible urge to hug the little girl,"Yeah, I don't mind."
Her face instantly brightened.
"But," Crowning clicked his tongue, "I think Kidd and Bannie would if I kept you from the cuddle puddle. Go be with your friends."
"ThankyouThankyouThankyou!" Dee actually planted a very quick kiss on the professor's cheek. Before anyone could react, her face blushed a solid anti-fouling red and she bolted out of the room as fast as her little legs could carry her.
"Dee! be-" Crowning was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a shipgirl tripping down the stairs like a very adorable slinky- "careful…"
For a moment, everything was quiet. Then a high-pitched, "Imokay!" filtered down the hall.
—|—|—
The roar of jet engines and the squeaking thump of rubber against Tarmac jolted light cruiser Tenryuu's attention to the gray-painted airplane coasting to a stop on the island's massive airstrip. It wasn't anything like what she'd fought against during the war. But she recognized it instantly as an F-15E Strike Eagle thanks to her A is for Airplane coloring book.
That… weren't really hers. She bought them for her destroyers. As gifts. Because she's a good division leader. She most certainly does not enjoy cuddling up with a warm cup of milk and a coloring book, she was a badass after all. No, she merely had to ensure the quality of the coloring material before handing it off to her division mates. It was a reasonable thing to do, really.
Tenryuu kicked her feet down off the table she'd been resting them on. It'd take a few moments for the fighter/bomber to come to a stop, but that didn't mean she couldn't prepare. She and her girls had hit a lull the past hour, mostly because they—or rather the island—had ran out of ingredients. But she had a feeling the operational tempo was about to swing way back up again.
She hurriedly stuffed her… informative… mature… reading material down her shirt and tossed her scarf back on. Shipgirl or not, Alaska was cold in the wintertime. And she really did look quite dashing in a nice flowing scarf. She'd wear it more often if Sendai hadn't practically trademarked the look.
The light cruiser broke out into a jog, her short skirt bouncing against her thighs as her boots pounded against the concrete. The big fighter—and it was big. They seem so much smaller when they're up in the air—was slowly spooling down after what had to be a long, cramped flight.
By the time she reached the plane, its cockpit was already open. The familiar form of her favorite sparing partner—albeit in an olive-green flight suit instead of those mottled gray cammies—was gently easing down the fighter's side.
"Legs going out on you, old man?" The cruiser laughed as her friend nearly ate shit. Nearly.
"Big words," grunted Major Mack Solette of the US Army. He slowly, carefully lowered himself the rest of the way before turning to face her, "Coming from a World War vet."
"Whatever, Doc." Tenryuu shoved her hands into her pockets, her horns twitching in the freezing air. "We got breakfast inside, if you're hungry."
Solette nodded. "Yeah, just," he pounded his fist against the meat of his leg, "Just gotta figure out how to walk again."
"Fufufufu, flight that bad?"
"Eh," the Major shrugged, "Seats are crap and they lost my luggage, but at least the flight attendant's good looking."
"Hmm?" Tenryuu leaned to the side to snatch a look for herself. She couldn't make out much of the pilot's face with his helmet in the way. But he had the sternly-chiseled jaw that all fighter pilots seemed to have.
"Maybe make it a bit more obvious?"
Tenryuu rolled her eye, but her expression soon faded to a dour scowl. "Look, we only have about…" she glanced at her watch, "an hour before the girls get here. Maybe an hour-twenty."
"Yeah yeah," Solette winced at the combination of muscle cramps and howling arctic cold, but he walked on none the less. "You get a dock setup?"
"Mmhm," said Tenryuu. The light cruiser fished a piping hot bowl of oatmeal out from her stores. Well, it had been piping hot when she stowed it… it was still good though. At least that was the hope, "here."
Solette offered a brief nod of thanks before tearing into the semi-palatable dish.
"You sleep at all?" asked Tenryuu as she bumped open the airport terminal doors with her pump stern.
"Slept on the plane," said the ragged-looking Major, "Would not recommend."
"Well, shipgirl, so…" She shrugged, "Look, the girls want you to do a once-over on the dock setup."
"I was thinking the same," Solette said before gulping down another helping of oatmeal. "And-"
"Coffee, nanodesu?" the tiny form of a third-generation special-type destroyer walked around a corner with a comically large carafe balanced on her head.
Solette blinked, but he took the beverage without any further questioning. "Thanks, Inazuma," he said, offering a brief head pat in exchange for the glorious brown elixir. He had the feeling he was going to need every last drop.
—|—|—
Major Solette stood in the Adak Island Inn pool room with his hands sitting limply on his hips. His flightsuit was tied around his waist, letting the natural funk of several stressful hours in the backseat of a strike eagle mingle with the salty, oily air.
The pool room wasn't big to begin with. There was a small pool that should just be big enough to fit all the girls, with an even smaller hot tub—one that could maybe fit three or four people—off to the side.
Adding to the cramped feeling were the vast amounts of equipment Akatsuki and her sisters had dragged in. Angle grinders, air-saws, portable band saws, and a few cutting torches were neatly lined up along one wall. Power cables and air lines joined into a fat Technicolor umbilical that ran out to a huddled cluster of generators and air compressors.
It wasn't anything like what he was used do. The Yokosuka dockyards were literally state of the art. Back in Japan, he had enough separate baths to give every girl who wanted it her privacy. He had full sets of air-powered tools so he could work without worrying about electrocuting himself.
But, if he'd wanted an unlimited budget, he'd have joined the air force. Time to make do. "Hibiki?"
"Hm?" the snowy haired girl glanced up at Solette.
"Let's get some dividers set up around that hot tub," said the Major. A plan was starting to come together in his mind. Maybe not a great one, but a workable one.
"What for?" asked Akatsuki as she bolted around the poolside looking for something that'd do, her shoes—or were they screws—biting into the odd puddle like it was tread plate.
"The hot tub's going to be my OR," said Solette, mentally adding a new entry in the 'shit I never thought I'd say' list. "Heermann'll take a… lot of work. Think she'll appreciate her privacy."
"Oh, okay," Akatsuki chirped while she and her sister bounced around the hot tun with frantic energy. Solette couldn't follow any one torpedo loli long enough to figure out what they were doing, but he got the distinct impression that they were building something.
Not that he particularly cared. If they were busy, it meant he could speak to their minder for a few moments. "Tenryuu?"
"Yeah?"
"Look, when…" Solette sighed, "This isn't going to be pretty."
"Yeah," Tenryuu nodded, her eye fluttering as she struggled to keep her detached-badass facade from cracking, "Yeah, I uh, I figured." Her gaze drifted to the four tiny girls furiously tearing duct-tape into strips, "I'll find something for them to do. While you do your thing."
"You're a good-"
"If you say momboat," Tenryuu turned on the Major, her one eye glistening with compensating bluster.
"-flagship," said Solette. He gave the cruiser a gentle pat on the back, "I was going to say flagship."