A Certain Lady Part 12
By Old Iron
Under normal circumstances, USS-Albacore would not be keeping the company she was.
Rather she would be off hunting nice, thick, juicy targets-cargo, cruisers, and carriers to name a few-and praying her fish decided they'd play nice. Or barring that, committing delicious larceny for the sake of even more scrumptious cake. All of it on her lonesome. The solitary hunter, clad in shadow.
Normal circumstances were unfortunately not the order of the day.
"Hm... Nope. There's no way you could fit it, dechi."
"Ja. It is much longer than what you're used to. And much heavier."
Albacore groaned as she hung her head in resignation. "Aww... Shoot."
Yes. Rather than soloing her duties of hunting down enemy ships and procuring much needed intelligence on the Abyssal threat, Albacore had been spending her time about fifty miles off the coast of Fukue Island with Japanese submarines I-8 and I-58. Both of whom preferred to be called Hachi and Goya respectively. And both of whom dwarfed her in a great many ways.
Both were longer, heavier, and wider than she was. And that translated into more human shaped measurements in a very eye popping manner. In fact, Hachi looked like she would give a battleship a run for her money with those curves. Goya less so, but the slightly smaller of the two Japanese subs was still sporting a rather curvaceous figure.
It had made introductions even more awkward than they were likely to have been to begin with.
Albacore's first introduction to the Japanese submarine force had been like something out of a zombie flick. A tidbit she only knew about thanks to having seen bits of one from the shadows of the great treasure chest known as supply. May as well catch a movie while procuring the needed items for proper, glittery reports after all.
But having a pair of lewdmarines crawl out of the murky depths in what had to be an intentionally seductive manner had given her chills. She had nearly frozen when they had sidled up next to her with a deep, husky 'sempai'. At least when the zombies had done it in the movies, it was more akin to a horrible groan before they'd begun chowing down on the extras.
Sure, she could easily outrun, out-dive, out... everything the Japanese boats, but the shock value had given her pause enough for them to get close. That had immediately turned into a different kind of shock. How could these girls even move? Much less dive? There was enough spare buoyancy between the two of them to re-float a half a dozen fleet carriers.
Submarines needed to be fast! Lithe and nimble. One bad scratch and you were a goner. Fortunately for Albacore's sanity, it had been revealed that there was at least one positive to all that extra mass. That being both girls could carry a floatplane whereas she could not.
Albacore was pretty sure putting planes on a submarine was a really stupid idea. But at the same time, she wouldn't deny it had allowed the discovery of the Northern Princess.
It was still mind boggling though.
Despite the... criticisms, Hachi and Goya were more than happy to have another sub to talk with. Particularly given she was an American sub and was theoretically far more familiar with the tactics they had been forced to adopt. Hence the 'sempai' moment.
It went without saying that there was not a single Japanese submarine that enjoyed or adapted well the far more effective, but infinitely more lonely, doctrines now being employed. At least, not without a goodly amount of difficulty. Thus it had fallen to the American to help the Japanese learn how to submarine.
"The Type 95 would go so well with this attack plan." Albacore, for the first time, bemoaned her comparatively diminutive stature. Maybe she could have carried the longer-range, far more reliably deadly torpedo if she were a bigger boat, but alas...
Probably for the better though. She might end up with a lot of extra curves that would slow her down anyways if she somehow found a way to carry that fish. Yeah, the cons outweighed the pros here.
"Are you certain? I think it works fine as it is. You don't need the range or power for this plan." Hachi adjusted her glasses as she looked over the display on her waterproof phone. She kept her book tucked under one arm as she used both hands to manipulate the device.
"Range and power, no. But it's the reliability that's key. There's a really small window for that plan to be safely used, and my Mark 14's as they stand..." Albacore trailed off as she made a hand gesture of resignation.
"Even if you get that window, your fish might not work." Goya floated along in an almost careless manner alongside Albacore and Hachi, keeping her eyes ahead. It was her turn to take point for their unusual little training cruise. Though careless she might appear, she still stayed sharp. It wouldn't do to let the enemy get the drop on them. Especially in friendly water.
"Exactly. You could be the best shot in the world. But it's pointless if your fish don't play nice. Or at all." Albacore shot a grin and a thumbs up to Goya, who returned the gesture in kind.
"Still, I thought they fixed those." Goya's expression fell into something contemplative while Hachi multi-tasked between writing and listening. "And I heard you did really well with them. Even the screwy ones."
"I still had at least two fish go haywire in that last fight. And that's two too many." Albacore pulled one of her Mark 14's out of seemingly nowhere and held it in a manner reminiscent of a baseball bat. "I'm pretty sure these are the earlier model, with all the screwups still there."
"That's why you wanted to know if you could fit ours," stated Goya with a spark of realization.
"Yep. Until I can get these things to work each and every time, I'm going to be looking for something more reliable. And that I can carry." Albacore stowed the torpedo after giving it a glare. It might just be her imagination, but it seemed like the weapon had been ever so slightly intimidated. Magical Sparkly Shipgirl Bullshit indeed. "I made do before because I had to."
"Well just let us know if we can help. It's the least we can do, dechi!" Goya listed to the side just long enough to flash Albie a winning smile. "We've made more sense of these tactics with you than with anyone else. Dunno why, but it's clicking."
"Most of these tactics are pretty sound. But we've had them explained to us a dozen times over." Hachi made a few notes about positioning to account for her larger displacement as she spoke. "Perhaps we just needed a submarine who understood it to explain it, ja?"
"I dunno. Albie's saying a lot of the same things command did. Even the boss' explanation didn't help." Goya narrowed her gaze in one direction, trying to determine if what she glanced in the distance was a contact of any worth. It appeared to be a school of fish, but one couldn't be too careful.
"Hmm, true. And much of this should be simple enough for a submarine to grasp. I don't think our doctrines were different enough to make this so difficult." Hachi let her phone float relatively freely in the water. It was held to her wrist by a small tether, so there was little worry about it drifting off. She'd had that happen once before, and once was plenty. Thank you very much.
"You're just stubborn, I think." Albie nodded sagely, her frohawk bobbing in tune.
Hachi frowned as Goya turned to face Albacore again, having determined that the school of fish was exactly that and of no threat to their being.
"W-Well, it's not exactly the same, but..." She cleared her throat as she tried to recover from the little faux pas she'd committed. "I still steal stuff. I'm a subthief after all. I'm not supposed to steal things and I don't even have a good reason to anymore. But... I still do."
"Das ist why you're wearing a brand new pair of the Admiral's pants?" Hachi adjusted her glasses in a manner that would have been compared to certain fast battleship had she been present. The sultry grin less so.
"Erk!"
"Yeah. You wrote your name in pink on the other pair." Goya's perceptiveness made Albacore flinch guiltily.
"There is also one with the gold star over a red and blue background. That would make this the third pair we have seen you with." Hachi smirked as the American reeled. "We are at least observant. That much we can claim some operational superiority over at the moment."
"Back on topic! We have a job to do! And it is my duty to make sure you two can do it and do it well!" That'd keep them distracted. Absolutely. It no way, shape, or form could her ploy to keep them from finding out just how much she'd actually managed to purloin be seen through.
"Of course, sempai," Hachi replied smoothly, deciding to let Albacore off the hook for the moment.
"Good! Now, ah. Um. Oh, right. The point I was getting to. With me still borrowing things without asking and never returning them." She snapped her fingers before pointing in a southernly direction.
"Like th-!" Goya shut her mouth when Hachi cast a silencing glance in her direction. Okay, they'd had their fun. Back to work. This was one of the things she disliked most about solo operations. No one to talk to. There were other things she disliked, but it was the lack communication that really got to her. At least Hachi had her books. Being with others like this just felt better.
"Old habits die hard? That is the Americanism you are getting at?" Hachi lazily turned south with the other two submarines as they continued their combination patrol and lesson time.
"Bingo. I think that even if you've been told a bunch of times how to submarine, you're so used to how you did it fifty years ago that you just kinda... suck at doing it." Albacore placed a hand on her chest proudly. "But now that you have someone who can speak like a boat, it's not as hard to get."
"That was waaay too blunt, dechi." Goya grinned at Albie's somewhat self-important explanation. It made sense, but it was really, really straightforward for her. But that was fine.
"Wha? But, it's true!"
"True, ja. But you have been spending time with battleships. You don't need to maneuver us like you do them." Hachi spun her book idly as she spoke. "You may be a subthief and we may be lewdmarines as people call us, but we are all submarines."
Albacore really could have done without the blush on her cheeks at Hachi's words.
She also could have done without the sultry tone of voice that accompanied them. The same went for Goya's suggestive arch of the eyebrow. Damn fatassed lewdmarines. Way too lewd!
"Sorry. I'll try to be more thoughtful."
"Don't worry too much about it. You can be our combat sempai and we'll be your sempai for social...ly... things. At least you've got a better start on that than we did on your funky doctrine!" Goya's earnest demeanor earned a laugh from the other two boats.
Their laughter was cut short as all three went deathly silent.
They shared a glance as they silently confirmed the other had detected the same.
"Surface contact." Albacore's voice was soft, but edged.
"It's already gone." Goya's matched Albacore's, but was more tinged with worry. "A scout?"
Albacore pondered for a moment before turning to Hachi, making a motion to surface followed by what looked like a flying gesture. The bespectacled submarine nodded and began to take action while Albacore began relaying further command to Goya.
Hachi rose slowly, both to avoid an easy detection and due to the limitations of her hull.
When she broke the surface of the frigid winter ocean, it was a matter of minutes before her Watanabe E9W was in the air. It would take time for the plane to complete its reconnaissance mission but that unknown amount of time would keep her on the surface. It was not a place she really wanted to be, but she still had a job to do.
"If it's the Abyssal fleet, we have to report back." Albacore looked upward as she watched Hachi's outline go about the motions of launching her plane.
"But if it's one or two light vessels... I think we can take them, right?" Goya's hesitantly optimistic view was met with a contemplative silence.
"One of us should report back no matter what. But we could take them if it's just that. Still, I'm more worried about them being able to get so close." There had been that business where Hiei and Arizona had taken on four ships by themselves, nearly losing Arizona in the process.
But that didn't change the fact that Abyssal forces had managed to get close enough to shell the shoreline.
"It's been happening a lot more frequently lately. Normally it's just one or two boats attacking something with really poor defences." Goya crossed her arms under her bust and frowned. "But now it's getting a lot worse, dechi."
"Is it because of the Northern Princess?" She hadn't read the full report, but she'd heard enough that it was the largest engagement in history involving the Abyssal menace.
"Maybe? I dunno. We are stretched really thin. Especially no-"
Goya didn't have a chance to finish as Hachi performed a crash dive with more haste than she'd ever seen. Or thought possible for that matter.
"Ve have to go. Now!"
"What'd she see?" demanded Albacore at the sight of the dire Hachi.
"Dozens of them. A task force most likely. She radioed me to hurry before she had to break away. She will try to make it back to shore on her own."
"Did she get a bearing?"
"Nein. Not a precise one. But anywhere between Kaba and Fukue could be a target. Even sailing up the middle to hit the mainland." Hachi sounded more and more grave with each word. With forces at a minimum and such a wide area to cover, the Abyssals had come at the worst time and up the worst lane.
"Let's hurry."
"Albie, this is it, isn't it? This is why you operate alone?" Goya turned about to begin the rushed return to base. She and the others began surfacing with all the haste they could manage. Easier to spot, but so much faster.
"...Yeah. One of the reasons." Had they been spread out and operating solo... They might have been able to spot the Abyssals before now. However that carried its own set of ifs and buts. And there was no use crying over spilled milk right now.
"Less talk, more haste, ja?"
"Right. Lets get on the horn and wake everyone up!"
—|—|—
The dark.
Everywhere was devoid of light and only sound remained.
She could see only herself and nothing else. When she called out, her voice faded without echo.
And there was no reply.
The eerie tone of her footsteps did not echo, but merely faded into the abyss. And each footfall sounded as if she were trudging through sand or ash, liberally drenched in some viscous fluid.
Arizona reached out, slowly as if anchored by some invisible chain, but she grasped nothing.
Her boilers began to red-line as her heart thundered.
Her flinty eyes widened as the gravity of her situation grew heavier and heavier. To the point of oppression it grew, and threatened to crumble her knees and will.
"A symbol of peace~"
"Who's there!?" roared Arizona, forcing herself into the image of the defiant. "Show yourself!"
"An image of power!"
Arizona whipped about, forcing past the resistance of her bindings. She would not be caught unawares. Not again. No chain would bind her again! Her guns would roar and her fists would howl.
"An icon of duty."
"WHO'S THERE!?" Arizona's voice nearly cracked in its fury. Those taunting, familiar tones. The mocking words. Her rage billowed up as if someone had set her fuel alight.
"Show your-"
The copper haired battleship was cut off as the snapping sound of something cutting through the air preceded the dull, meaty thudding of three razor headed arrows embedding themselves in her chest. None struck anything vital, not to her, but they were enough to stagger her and draw a ragged gasp from between her lips.
"-self?"
A heavy object, invisible to her eye slammed into her front and pinned her to the ground.
She gasped in pain as the arrows were cracked and driven further into her body. Before she could cry out and fight back, her invisible assailant covered her mouth and stifled her breath.
"The bearer of hate~"
A knife, embellished with the rising sun ascended before her terrified vision.
"The pinnacle of weakness!"
It gleamed in the abyss as it began its merciless descent.
"The perfection of failure."
And the blade pierced her heart, pinning her to the vile ground.
Only black, oily tears and dark, crimson blood escaped Arizona. Her mouth remained clamped shut and she could not even shiver in terror as the feeling of an angry hand clawed at her cheek. But she could not see. There was only herself and darkness.
"You... You failed us."
For the first time in this wretched place as she lay dying, did something carrying both form and voice reach her senses.
A cracked, skeletal hand reached up from the sludge-like ash and grasped her arm.
"Killed in your sleep."
"Worthless."
"Pathetic."
"You abandoned us."
"Abandoned your country. Your duty."
With each and every word, another hand would reach out. And with each hand she was forced further and further into the now burning pool of ash. She was not even allowed to shout her denial or claim the release of death.
"Why you? Why did I have to die on you?"
"I could have been something."
The bones of the fallen gathered around her. Those who could not pull her down, instead circled like vultures with vicious taunts and hateful prose. Damnations from the slain.
Then two skeletal monstrosities reached out from the darkness and placed crushing grips upon her legs. Arizona was forced upright to gaze upon them and their ruthless hands, each bearing a gleaming ring. Their skulls burnt and grinning with malice, their unspoken words cut more deeply than even the weapons piercing her flesh.
As if upon the whim of her tormentors, a bell rang out and her own ashen faced countenance was thrust before her eyes.
Black and crimson stared into steel and gold.
"You are nothing but fear. Nothing but hate. Nothing but FAILURE. And we shall NEVER FORGIVE FAILURE."
Before the ghostly mirror could strike her down, Arizona awoke with a wretched scream of terror.
She sat up in bed, drenched in sweat and reaching out to salvation from something that did not exist within the confines of her room.
"A...Again...?" It had happened again. Her eyes were ringed with dark circles. Ever since her awakening in the docks from her abysmal first battle, not five minutes of sleep had gone by before she was returned to the realm of the waking by the most terrifying images.
She had gotten maybe an hour's total rest. Maybe. It was hard to tell sometimes.
"A-Ari?" The scared, diminutive voice of a child brought Arizona's attention to the doorway.
There, in her pajamas and trying to not shake like a leaf while clutching something grey to her chest, was little Jane Richardson. The girl who seemed so taken with her for reasons she herself could not see. It broke her already tormented heart to see what her nightmare had wrought on Jane.
"I... I'm okay. Just... Just a bad dream." Yes, just a bad dream. Nothing more. Nothing less. Ignore the repetition. Ignore the increasing horror it inflicted...
"Do you... want me to get you anything?" Jane did not allow herself to appear more frightened than she was. It didn't matter how much she admired Arizona. Or how much she wanted to run over and hug the hurting woman. She would hold on and not jump the gun. No matter how much she wanted to.
"I d-don't know." Arizona was baffled and scared and angry. She just wanted show a measure of weakness. Just once. But she couldn't afford to.
There was silence until it was broken by an unbidden sob from the Pennsylvania-Class battleship.
And that was all it took for Jane to throw caution to the wind and march over to Arizona. She refused the redhead's half-hearted attempts to wave her off and thrust the item in her hands into Arizona's bosom.
It was odd in shape, but soft and fluffy. Like a pillow.
"J-Jane? What is?" Arizona tried to look at the item in the darkness of her room, but she could not make it out. Less so when the item's owner latched onto her with a death-grip.
"Th-That's Kidd. I-It'll watch out for you. And I'll make D-Daddy get a-a whole f-fleet for you. You d-don't have Mo to l-look out for you r-right now, s-so..."
As Arizona embraced the child and the toy, she wept.
For the first time not in anger or in despair, Battleship Arizona wept.
—|—|—
"Admiral Richardson, message from the submarine training group. Abyssal forces inbound."