once again, feedback is appreciated and ideas are welcomed though most of the plot is laid out already.
The phone hung up with an audible click. "That was Admiral Meritz, he's out of town at the moment, but we've go transport on the way, we can get you down to the port and get another shipgirl to help you get integrated and answer the great deal of questions I'm betting you have.. Oh also Jenn?" The man asked turning toward the girl and bringing himself to her level.
"Huh?"
"Admiral whosit was wondering if would you mind accompanying her? it might help her get settled and it certainly would help us in future efforts to summon battleships.
"Really?!" The girl squealed.
"Yes, apparently you're the only one here who knows what they're doing in regards to battleships," he stated flatly before turning to the warship "we can get you settled in a bit nicer there and get my bathroom cleared off your face and clothes."
The woman's face reddened slightly behind the mask of plaster dust, but she simply nodded.
"Anyway, Jenn, grab some things, just a change of clothes and overnights should be plenty".
"Okay!" she exclaimed before grabbing the warship by the wrist and shanghaiing her into the task.
What followed for Iowa was a blur of opening drawers and loud excited comments from the smaller girl in regards to how exciting and great it would be for Iowa to meet the other girls while the ship in question sat upon the bed with an overwhelmed expression.
A knock at the door.
Opening it revealed a man in a similar set of attire to the, by Iowa's standards, oddly dressed lieutenant commander, though better fitting and greener. The newcomer offered a salute, which was returned.
"Thanks for arriving in short order." replied Mitchels before calling down the hall, "You two ready?"
"I'm not packed!" Jennifer mewed.
He sighed "We can take care of that later." He stated "Iowa?"
The woman nodded and stepped out. Beyond the doorframe a dark nighttime was steadily being illuminated by the lights of waking households, in front of the house stood the culprit, two large olive drab military transports idling noisily. A faint whiff of salt on the breeze elicited a small sigh from the warship.
Heading up her advance, the newcomer opened one of the doors to the transports, "Apologies for in advance for the Humvees ma'am, we didn't have much on hand, they're not such a comfortable ride."
Iowa slipped into the vehicle, insides roaring with idling engine and glanced idly about to find herself once again the object of Jennifer's awe, the girl, nearly shaking with excitement was happily grinning in her direction, the battleship returned a polite smile.
As the humvee lurched forward, abandoning the growing crowd of curious neighbors Andy turned back from his seat up front. "Apologies if this is a lot to take in, normally the navy oversees shipgirl returns, the circumstances here are… odd" he finished turning to the smaller of the two women. "We'll just get you situated in somewhere in the dormitories. We have a lot of extra space."
Iowa fidgeted slightly nervously,"So, when you said I was the only battleship… did you mean that? I mean, even so I'm- not exactly built to modern specifications."
"Hell, I know in the end you found yourself in an era outside your expertise and are experiencing some sort of culture shock, but i can assure you battleships are sorely needed, we're in a new conflict, I'll get the debrief be honest the US fleet has so far been almost entirely destroyers and destroyer escorts, aside from yourself the only ships larger than light cruisers have been Vincennes and Witchita, even aside from that the light cruisers have been sparse and overworked. Receiving a battleship will do a heck of a lot to help us win the war. As is we've been relying on the goodwill of the English and Japanese to keep heavier ships in the war. "
"I see," said Iowa, happily. "It's great to know I'm needed. But uh, who exactly are we fighting?"
"The war is a bit of a complicated affair, we can get you debriefed once you're settled, no sense burdening you with excess questions, we'll get you in processed and settled as painlessly as possible and bring that up later."
Iowa spent the rest of the trip happily marveling at the passing neighborhoods, contentedly listening to the others discuss how 12,000 tons of steel warship was procured from a bathtub.
The humvee eventually began to slow down, as the headlights revealed a small glass and brick guardpost blocking their way, aside it a large black and white sign bearing 'United States Navy: Warship Personnel Division'
Pulling into a small underground garage, with several other similar military vehicles, the humvee stopped in front of a small part of gathered military personnel, the forward of most was a rather authoritative woman in the bluer of the two uniforms Iowa had seen.
She eyed the dusty battleship and the others oddly beforing she smiled and offered her hand to the battleship, "Commander, Andrews, Office of Naval Intelligence, it's a pleasure."
Grasping her hand Iowa returned the gesture, "pleasure".
"Apologies Ms. Iowa, I'm sure you're quite overwhelmed by all this hustle and bustle, I'm afraid your arrival was a bit unexpected, we have a small meeting room down the hall where another shipgirl can explain things in detail. We find it tends to help when other girls with the same experiences help explain things."
"I know Atlanta is busy with her sister, who do we have as a stand in?" Mitchells asked.
The Commander's smile faded slightly, "Stewart."
"Oh christ no. Why not just give Iowa the guidelines and have her read them herself, are the Taffys not here?"
"I think the Taffys would either be rendered speechless with fear by an American battleship or spend the entire time blubbering with joy over her being an American battleship. Either way, Stewart is what we have."
The junior commander gave a slightly dejected look, "Alright, lead on, I'll take Jenn down to get settled."
"Bye Iowa!"
Iowa smiled and waved.
The meeting room was simply furnished with a central wooden table, and several potted (and probably fake) plants, the most distinctive feature, greeted with a light sigh by Uncle Andy was the whiteboard at the far end, where someone had erased a large portion of the meticulously recorded meeting notes with a crude drawing of 3 destroyers standing atop what appeared to be a mountain of dead shipgirls.
Guiding Iowa to her seat, commander Andrews began, "First of all, I'd like to thank you on behalf of the United States of America, for answering the call to service, despite the unorthodox methods behind it."
"I did what was expected, personally I'm flattered and honored to still prove of use to the people of this country, I know I was a bit… antiquated in my final days."
"Seeing as we're a tad early for Stewart, if you don't mind me asking, did you have any particular reason for answering now?" The woman began opening a small notebook and pen, "we've attempted dozens of times to go for a battleship, even at the sites of wrecks and museums, yourself included."
Iowa looked embarrassed "I'm afraid I couldn't tell you, everything from my service ending to now is a blank. Apologies"
"No need to apologize, it's the same with the others, we're just admittedly a bit short on heavier ships at the moment. Doing all we can to figure out why"
"If I may ask and I do apologize again, who exactly are we fighting?"
The woman looked briefly surprised "I guess Mitchells left that bit to me. Well, to be honest, not much is known about them. The intelligence community has referred to them as "abyssals", and for the most part the agreement is that they seem to serve as the antithesis of shipgirls, showcasing the brutality and warlike nature of warship instead of the nationalism and defensive spirit."
"I see, and they're attacking the United States?"
"Not the mainland, but they've waged campaigns against pacific holdings and a great deal of other nations."
A knock on the door.
A small girl identifiable to Iowa as either a light cruiser or destroyer entered the room, wearing a similar uniform to the Lieutenant Commander, complete with a slightly oversized cap atop a head with stern expression. "Apologies for my tardiness commander, I was not told you had arrived until just now," she stated, before placing a folder onto the table, opening it and glancing over the contents and paying no mind to the confused battleship.
"Um-excuse me?" Iowa stammered out.
The girl responded to the bewildered and disheveled warship by turning her expression slightly grumpier and glancing down again into the folder. "So, you're the new Battleship? I'm Ensign Steward, DD-22, here to conduct your briefing and potential re-entry into the United States Navy." She stated, clearly reading unenthusiastically from a paper, "Firstly, please provide your type, class, and name."
"USS Iowa, Iowa Class Battleship."
The Intelligence officer interrupted "Stewart we already said-"
The girl's frown intensified. "You are aware that impersonation of a warshup, or withholding of technical information or service history is punishable by up to 20 years in federal penitentiary by section 930, article 14 of the Uniformed Code of Military Justice." she asked critically, closing her book.
Iowa gave a surprised look "Pardon?"
"Excuse me, Stewart?"
Stewart glanced at the officer present, "just asking, ma'am. Apologies to the warship present." She stated unapologetically returning her glare.
"Anyway, Iowa, welcome to the Warship Personnel Division, if I could just get you-."
With a great groan the hinges popped off the door and and a further tiny figure fell into the room into a heap on the floor, the girl, clearly also identifiable as a destroyer, wore a blue skirt with what looked to be the only thing Iowa recognized as a sailor uniform complimenting her ridiculous straw hat. Recovering from her fall and dusting herself off she met the bemused group with a stupid lopsided grin, "uh sorry, Stewart mentioned a battleship and I wanted to sneak a peek," surveying the room she glanced curiously in said battleship's direction, "hey why's a limey cruiser off hanging about here?!"
"Hailey! Would you please-" Andrews began.
"Limey cruiser?!" Iowa asked with slight indignity.
"Yeah, or are we supposed to say British? Sorry, I wanted to see Iowa" the girl defended
"I am Iowa," Iowa defended, "also not British."
The girl scrunched up her nose before glaring up at the officer present. "This is a mean joke commander..."
"With all due respect ma'am I'm afraid I'm lost as well," Stewart asked, "Nothing of her caliber can fool anyone into thinking we have a modern battleship or take on anything above myself in a gunfight."
Iowa gave her a cool stare, "12" guns did a well enough job at Cuba!"
"But real Iowa had big guns-" Haggard said, gesturing with her arms, "like, huge!"
"Hey-Iowa?" Andrews asked.
"Yes?!" The warship demanded
"What's your hull number."
"Battleship, No. 4. As I said," she stated slightly peeved, "I am Iowa of the Iowa class."