Chapter 65: Heart of Courage
Yeoman Sarah Gale clutched at her smartphone, holding the slim amalgamation of plastic and glass like a warding totem against the mind-breaking impossibility of Frisco's ragged crop-top and the slender, scarred-over stomach it put on display. Gale wasn't even jealous of the shipgirls' ability to gorge themselves without affecting their waistlines. She'd made peace with the idea that shipgirls just weren't human women. They were spirits of steel and valor unbound by the pedestrian rules of dieting and nutrition.
No, she was more frustrated by the way the girls—and especially slender, sinewy Frisco. Wash was at least nice and curvy—could put away massive amounts of food without appearing to put it anywhere. Frisco had to have eaten close to her own body weight in burgers, but she was still as thin as ever. That much burger and milkshake just couldn't have fit into her body, even if the cruisergirl was hollow inside.
Luckily, the girls didn't seem to mind that Gale wasn't giving them any attention. The Destroyers were bouncing around like hamsters on crack, trying to rope anyone they could into their impromptu sword fighting session. At the moment, Kidd was trying to rally an aggressively disinterested waiter into joining her "pirate crew". Behind her, Bannie flourished a hunk of cardboard she'd carved into a reasonable approximation of a Marine saber and Dee failed to keep from laughing every time Kidd said "booty."
Frisco was sipping up her milkshake with a glow of unrestrained glee, pausing only long enough to scarf down a few fries or ask for a refill.
Wash was… well, Gale didn't really know what Wash was doing. The battleship was still finishing up her dinner—much to Gale's chagrin—but she'd passed the 'voracious devourer of all you hold dear' stage of shipgirl dining and reached a point where she was eating more or less like a human being. She'd take a bite, then chew slowly while she stared off at some point a few feet above Gale's head with a thoughtful look on her face.
Gale tried not to look at Wash too much. With the sunset glowing behind her head, the battleship's russet hair almost glowed, like spun gold or fresh honey. Just looking at her made Gale hungry—and also thirsty, but that's neither here nor there.
But Gale didn't have to endure the pleasant-yet-also-annoying situation much longer. The throaty rumble of a diesel engine sang in concert with the jarring crash of brake calipers. The Navy had arrived, and they'd brought a shipgirl transport.
A trio of Marines shuffled in the restaurant door, along with one very out-of-place looking academic in a half-zip sweater. One of the waitresses—the same one who'd seated Gale's little party a few hours ago, although now she looked considerably more ragged. Gale made a mental note to offer her a ridiculous tip—hurriedly directed the Marines over while thanking them profusely.
"It looks like dinner's over," said Wash with a wistful sigh.
"Aww," Frisco's shoulders slumped as she sized up her half-finished shake. "I was just getting started…" she bit the corner of her lip, her eyes narrowing to little more than hazel slits, "I… think?"
Wash smiled and ran a hand though Frisco's coal-black hair, untangling a few loose knots that'd formed. "You get used to eating after a while."
Frisco's cheeks exploded into crimson fireworks as Wash played with her hair. The cruiser opened her mouth for a second, then bit down on her lip with a huff.
"Yeoman Gale?" one of the Marines—the one with the tight brush-cut instead of the tight buzz-cut—snapped to an uneasy half-attention at the head of the table. "Lieutenant Commander Washington-"
"Wash, please."
"-Wash, right," The Marine scrunched the cover he clutched in his hand, "And…"
"Frisco," said the cruiser with an overly-casual wave to distract from her borderline glowing cheeks. "Or… 'friz'?" she glanced at Wash.
Wash shook her head.
"Okay, no to that," said Frisco, "What's up?"
The corners of the Marine's lips twitched up in a smile he desperately tried to hide. Which, of course, made Frisco start to giggle. "Admiral Williams sent us to pick you up, ma'am. He apologizes for not showing up in person."
Frisco leaned over to Wash, "Williams?"
"COMPACFLT," said Wash, "And our admiral."
Frisco let out a long whistle, "That's a hell of a lot of brass."
"You can say that again," said Gale.
"If the two of you," the Marine motioned to Wash and Frisco, "would come with us, the Admiral will brief you on the way."
Frisco started to shuffle out of her seat, then stopped. "Wait. How is he gonna do that if he can't show up?"
"Video conference," said the Marine.
Frisco offered him a wordless stare. Her mouth slowly hung open as her eyes narrowed into vacant slits.
"It's like Flash Gordon," explained Wash.
"Oh!" Frisco's smooth porcelain face split into a goofy smile. "That sounds amazing."
This time the Marine's professional demeanor really did crack, and he couldn't help but let a few laughing snorts though his clenched jaw. "This way, ma'am," he said as he motioned to the door.
Wash and Frisco obligingly got out of their seats and fell into line astern.
"The destroyers will ride back with you, Yeoman," said the Marine. "The Admiral thought it would be best to brief… the new arrival without their interference."
Gale glanced over to where Bannie and Crowning were fanatically swashbuckling while Kidd and Dee provided running commentary. The professor had reach and finesse, but Bannie had the advantage of being tiny, insane, and lacking any sense of self-preservation whatsoever.
The Marine smiled. "See you back at base Yeoman."
"You too Marine."
With that, the Marines and their shipgirl charges filed out of the room. Gale caught Frisco asking one of them something about his uniform, but the only words she caught were "dazzle camo."
Gale slipped her phone into her pocket and settled the outrageously large check. Luckily, she'd been planning on grabbing a nice dinner with Wash every since she started planning this little excursion. Something… refined like the queenly battleship, and maybe candle-lit. But… that hadn't ended up happening. Anyway, because of that, Gale had a Navy-issue shipgirl-feeding expense card with her.
She was about to yell something at her clutch of destroyers when she noticed something very strange All three of them were clustered around Crowning watching with rapturous attention as he swung one of their cardboard swords though the air with practiced ease. Their eyes were wide as they strained to soak in every detail, and each girl had a tiny faerie sitting cross-legged on her head taking notes.
"So when you swing," said Crowning as he thrust the cardboard blade out. "You need to draw it back just as fast." With a flick of his forearm, the professor flicked the sword back upright, "That way you're ready to parry, or attack again."
The three girls nodded while their faeries frantically scribbled in tiny notebooks with equally tiny pencils.
Gale blinked. She wasn't a total newcomer to sword fighting. In her youth, she'd spent many a misspent evening running around the neighborhood with plastic light sabers bashing her friends in the head. She'd also done that last week with Jen, but that's beside the point, which was that Crowning knew what he was doing.
There wasn't any of the hesitation or wavering that Gale felt when she wielded any kind of weapon that didn't take a magazine. The professor swung his sword—cardboard or not—like it was an extension of his body. Thrust, couter-thrust, riposte, the motions came as quickly and fluidly as Fox stalking its prey.
Crowning glanced over to Gale and shot her a nod of acknowledgement. "Okay girls," the professor dropped to one knee as the three destroyers shuffled in around him, "I think Gale wants us, but you know where my office is if you want to do some more."
"Okay!" chorused the three destroyers.
Gale blinked. "Uh… Doc?"
The Professor made a show of returning the (cardboard) blade to it's owner before smiling at her. "Yeah?"
"How…" Gale waved her hands in the air, "How'd you learn to- why do you know how to do that?"
"I study English literature," said Crowning.
Gale blinked.
"Swords have been the weapons of choice for more than a millennium," explained the professor with a wicked glint in his eyes. "I figured, if I'm really going to understand the literature of that age, I should learn the culture of that age."
"So…" Gale felt her hands wander towards her phone again. "You… learned to sword fight?"
"That, and reenactments," said the professor with a shrug.
"That…" Gale thought back to his request the other week, "that explains a lot, actually." The sailor threw on her jacket and ducked out onto the sidewalk. "Just don't go telling me you're descended from a king or something."
"Knight, actually."
Gale stopped mid-stride. "What?"
"Knight." The professor's mustache almost hid the way his mouth twitched up. Almost.
"Oh…" Gale waved her fist in his face, "You almost got me."
Crowning didn't even bother to hide his toothy grin.
Gale rolled her eyes. "I'm going to loose my sanity."
"That's okay," said Bannie.
"Yeah, sanity's overrated," added Kidd.
Dee opened her mouth to say something, but her foot missed the flat concrete sidewalk and landed in a road-side planter, sending the poor girl head-over-heels onto the sidewalk.
Gale scowled and slapped her hand to her face.
"I'mokay!" Dee smiled as she bounced back to her feet, no worse for wear besides a little scuff on her knee.
The little group managed to walk with no major incidents for about half a block before Gale's cellphone chirped an alert at her.
"Ooooooh!" said Dee with an enormous grin.
"The magic rectangle speaks," said Bannie and Kidd as they prostrated themselves at Gale's feet.
"Screw you guys." Gale rolled her eyes as she swiped in her lock code.
"How do you do?" sang a adorable girl's voice strongly accented with The Queen's English."This is heavy Cruiser London of the London class. Nice to join your fleet."
Crowning and the girls froze in place.
Gale scowled. "Fuck you, London. Nobody likes you."
"Uh…" even the professor was at a loss for words.
Gale sheepishly turned her phone around so he could see the screen. "It's, uh… Warship Girls," the sailor blushed as she admitted her secret guilty pleasure. "It's this… terrible terrible Japanese browser game. Thing."
"What do you do in it?" asked Dee.
"Williams' job, basically," said Gale. "Manage girls, plan attacks on Abyssals…"
"I thought you hated doing that," said Kidd.
"Yeah," added Bannie, "Wash said we drive you crazy."
Gale sighed, her shoulders slumping like a party balloon that'd long since lost it's helium. "Because these girls actually do what I tell them to."
For a second, the three destroyers just stared in confusion. Then as one they smiled and let out a happy, "OOOOOOOH!"
"Am I in it?" asked Dee?
"What about me?" added Kidd.
"Or me!" Bannie stared up at Gale with those big blue eyes.
Crowning just smiled and shrugged.
"I'm giving you my phone, aren't I?" sighed Gale.
The destroyers nodded.
"Don't sink anyone," sighed Gale as she handed her phone to Kidd.
"Thank you!" chorused the girls as the squeezed Gale's midsection in a typically-crushing Fletcher-class hug.
"Ah," Gale choked out, "Too hard, Too hard!"
"Sorry," the girls sheepishly let go and clustered around the phone.
"Well," Crowning glanced at the Fletchers. They'd coalesced into one uniform mass of ponytails and torn-up sneakers that slowly shuffled along with a phone at it's center. "They're not going to do anything else for the next hour."
"Probably," said Gale. "That's more peace and quiet than I've had all year."
Crowning let out a chuckle. Just one though. Gale was only mostly kidding, and he knew it.
"So," Gale tucked her hands into her pockets, "What'd you do?"
"Hmm?"
"The summoning," Gale watched her breath freeze into swirling eddies in the crisp December air, "We've been trying this for weeks… what'd you do that made it work?"
"Um…" Crowning tapped his hands against his jeans. "I was actually just staring at a white board when I got your text."
"Well you did something," said Gale. "You had to. Right? I mean… we've tried the whole concert deal before, all we'd ever get would be-" she nodded at the destroyer puddle shuffling along behind her-"DDs, hovercats, or the odd CVE."
Crowning shrugged. "We'll have to figure ou-" he stopped and turned to face the sailor. "Hovercats?"
Gale nodded. "K-type blimps. Came back as cats that float. Poor Mary's got her hands full with them."
"Mary?"
Gale slapped her forehead with the heel of her hand. "Sorry, Yeoman Mary Patrick. Works with Admiral Caraway down at Norfolk. The, uh, the combined ASW command."
"Gale," Crowning shook his head. "Do you know every yeoman in the US Navy?"
Gale blinked. "Yeah," she deadpanned.
"I…" Crowning trailed off, unable to contest the sailor's flatly-stated claim. "And you'resure you're not magic?"
Gale just shrugged. Then she smiled. "So, Doc?" she said, her eyebrows bouncing suggestively on her forehead as her lips curled into a grin.
Crowning sighed. "Yes, Gale?"
"Speaking of… 'magic'…" the sailor threw up a truly epic set of air quotes, "When're you gonna spill to Jersey that you want her?"
"Gale, I-"
"Hey," Gale thrust her finger in the professor's face. "She's hot. Every man on this base'd grovel at her feet to get with a girl like that. And I know you know it because I've seen the way you act whenever we're in the CIC."
"Gale-"
"She's got legs for days man," Gale drew the battleship's hourglass silhouette in the air with her hands. "And that stern! You've seen her walk, right?" She threw her hips out in an imitation of Jersey's lazy strut.
"Gale?" Crowning's blush almost glowed as he glared at the uppity sailor.
"Yeah?" Gale smirked at him.
"I wouldn't say she's hot," said Crowning. "I'd say she's beautiful. As beautiful as the dawn and as sweet the tropic winds at night. She has the honor of a queen and the strength of a knight. Her conviction is unwavering, her determination limitless," the professor's eyes went glassy as he reached into the air, grasping a point between himself and Gale, focusing his eyes upon it. "A heart of courage wrapped in fighting steel." He turned to look at her, "And I love her with every fiber of my being."
Gale blinked. "I…" her heart was fluttering just hearing that. Her own eyes were starting to tear up and she had to rub at her face with the sleeve of her jacket. "Wow, I… why don't… why don't you tell her?"
"You and I both know I can't." The professor's voice was raspy and hollow as he thrust his hand back into his pocket. "She's a proud warrior. She won't give in or give up until she's dead. You could shoot her bridge off and she'd keep fighting. Shoot her screws off and she'd keep fighting. Shoot her hull until it's so full of holes she's barely above the waterline and she'd keep fighting."
Crowning scowled into the chill winter air. "Because of that, she can't let go of Samar. She tries not to show it, but can you look me in the eye and tell me that doesn't eat at her every second she's awake. Can you tell me she's got even the tiniest hint of how to handle her emotions?"
"Um…" Gale let her gaze fall to her boots. "No."
"If I go up to her and tell her I love her, what do you think she'll do?"
Gale sniffled as realization dawned upon her face. "She'll… she'll freak out. Panic."
"She's a fighter," said Crowning. "She is our sword and shield. But she can't fight without support. I love her," he didn't even bother to wipe away the rivulet of tears running into his beard, "and because I do, I'll do everything in my power to lighten her burden. I'll be there for her. Day or night, whatever days may come." He stopped, his chest heaving as he took in a deep breath. "But I won't—I can't give her anything else to bear."