Easing the manilla envelope she carried into her opposite hand., Atlanta rapt quickly on the wooden door.
"Come in." A female voice responded distractedly.
Pushing he door open and entering, the room revealed 3 figures at various stages of work. The room's owner, Commander Andrews, occupied the large desk at the center of the room's far wall was currently tackling a daunting amount of paperwork. To her right he subordinate, the Lieutenant Commander appeared to be thoroughly examining a map of various islands and specific location that was put up on a whiteboard. The final figured would have been easy to miss, especially had Atlanta not known she'd be working tirelessly in near the same spot since her arrival a few days ago. Stewart worked quietly in the corner behind the door, tirelessly tackling various forms in order to fill out the kanji laden paperwork that was necessary to operate in a joint naval Base.
Andrews gave a quick glance up towards the light cruiser from her stack of paper "I told you that you don't need to bother knocking." she chastised, pushing aside a stack of paperwork.
Atlanta ignored the comment, "ma'am!" She offered, saluting with her unused hand.
Andrews sighed and offered a salute from her desk, a further explanation of Atlanta's lack of need to follow formal military protocol dying at the futility of it.
"Do we have an update on our mystery girl?" She asked, giving a glance back towards the map that Mitchell's examined thoroughly.
"We're still in contact with Ardent and her girls. Apparently they've lost contact with the mystery ship, she's flatly refusing to talk with Japanese ships at this point. Though still doesn't appear to have left the facility, they haven't had an radar contacts leaving the island." the light cruiser explained.
"Do you think she's low on fuel?"
"If not completely out of it. who knows how long she's been sitting there eating through her supplies." Atlanta glanced down at the manilla folder, handing it off to the woman at the desk
"Thank you, go ahead and take a seat if you'd like." The woman muttered, opening the folder and looking through several pictures of a cage masted vessel and technical documents identifying key features speculated to be important to a shipgirl."what do you know about the USS North Dakota?" She finally asked after a lengthy period of staring at the form "I can't say I'm terribly familiar with her, was she a Standard class?"
"Nothing, personally she was scrapped before the war."
The human officer looked surprised, throwing he folder casually on her desk "Then why is she so angry over the Japanese?" she asked thoughtfully.
"The two possibilities that come to my mind are that she either inherited a large amount of personal grudge against Japan for whatever secondhand sources she came across in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."
"You mean during her rest as a wreck?" The officer asked, folding her arms onto her desk.
Atlanta shook her head and leaned forward in the chair, "not possible I'm afraid, the battleship USS North Dakota was scrapped."
"So you're saying she'd have to acquire the information secondhand after she'd been summoned, probably by one of our ships?"
Atlanta nodded, "barring some sort of part in her hull being used during the war or, pardon my language, 'sparkly shipgirl bullshit' as the Lieutenant Commander is so fond of calling it." She gave an amused glance towards he man working on the whiteboard, getting an expression only of mild surprise in return.
The senior officer ignored Atlanta's break in character. "That doesn't seem likely, most shipgirl memories and personality is built strongly from personal experience or construction. And you seem to be saying neither of that would build a hated towards the Japanese."
"It seems an unlikely possibility, Atlanta agreed."
"So you mentioned a second possibility?"
"I personally believe that whatever ship is in that cave, it's not the North Dakota." Atlanta answered, giving a glance to a large red "x" mounted to an island on the whiteboard.
"An abyssal?" the woman asked worriedly.
"I hadn't discounted the possibility" Atlanta conceded. "But I'm not entirely certain that's the case either, it would seem an Abysaal would attack, or at the very least not be so willing to talk."
"But why impersonate a ship that sunk before the war?" Lieutenant Commander Mitchells interjected, abandoning the whiteboard with a dramatic capping of a red pepper to examine a photo of the ship in question.
"Well, either whatever is in that cave doesn't know North Dakota sank" Atlanta explained
"Which seems odd given she clearly knows the war happened and is extremely afraid of the Japanese. Implying she has either firsthand or direct secondhand experience." Mitchells argued, his extremely thorough and intense examination of the battleship's screws causing Atlanta to redden slightly.
"or she may also be making North Dakota up not knowing it's a real ship." the light cruiser finished.
"In that case why not just use a real ship, god knows we've got enough storied Battleship's that aren't around to impersonate." the senior officer finished, as she gave a curious glance to the compromising image of the battleship that Mitchells seemed to keen to examine, prompting Atlanta to send some pitying thoughts to its spirit, wherever it may be.
"Unless she doesn't know they aren't around." Mitchells murmured, finally setting down the image.
"Or doesn't know them well enough to know their names with great familiarity." the human woman agreed.
"What kind of ship would be invested in the war enough to be wary of the Japanese but not enough to be able to name a single battleship?" mitchells questioned, pulling up a second photo.
The Commander interlocked her fingers, clearly giving the question deep consideration "A transport?" She offered "Maybe doing convoy duty in the Atlantic?"
"Could be," her subordinate agreed, "I know the Japanese have a supply ship reportedly."
"Some sort of Auxiliary vessel seems likely. Enough to see the warships and get the wartime attitudes, maybe get a few shots at her." Atlanta agreed.
"Maybe someone scrapped or sunk early in the combat?" Mitchells announced as an alternative.
The office owner sighed, running her fingers through her hair in exaspiration, "whatever the case, we need someone with reputation to talk it down."
"Clearly whoever or whatever is there did not have enough know how to name any of our wartime battleship's, who do we have that they would recognize?" the light cruiser asked thoughtfully.
"We could send Iowa." Mitchell's suggested. "At the very least she's likely to respond well to another battleship."
"And at the very worst at least Iowa has a thick belt, if whoever this is turns out to be hostile." Atlanta affirmed.
"I'd hate to throw her to the wolves like this, she's untested and just got back." the desk owner ascended, as, to Atlanta's mercy, she began putting away her collection of lewd battleship photos.
"I can go ma'am." Atlanta pridefully offered, peeling her eyes from the photos, "I've got good speed. If worst comes to worst Im fast enough to get out."
"I'm not letting you go straight into the middle of an unknown and difficult to navigate situation with the belt you have." Andrews replied with a shake of her head, "you can try and coax our mystery gal from the outside but Iowa goes in if anyone needs to."
"Aye ma'am."
"Was there anything else?"
"There was one abnormality Ardent reported." Atlanta began, raising a mixture of curiosity and concern from the two officers. "Reportedly when they first encountered the unknown shipgirl, she was besieged by a large and armed Abyssal, class unknown, who was holding outside the entrance way. The task force engaged and drove the ship off, but they've had a few more sightings since then."
Mitchells took a sympathetic look, "That might explain why she's so jumpy, poor girl's been hounded."
Atlanta nodded, "it seems the Abyssal has expressed no small amount of interest in sinking her."
"So would it stand to reason this Abyssal is her Abyssal doppelganger?" Andrews asked, once again folding her fingers before her face in thought.
"That was my first thought as well."
"That bodes interestingly, it makes sense that an auxiliary ship, Abyssal or not would hold off engaging destroyers." Mitchell mused, "but the whole business seems to complicate things."
"Agreed," Mitchells sighed, "it's certainly a problem but if the destroyers scared it off, they should be fine, at least for now, but if you could keep me updated, I'd appreciate it." Andrews announced, finally sealing the envelope, "if there's nothing else, i think we need to focus on identifying and assisting this girl before hunting her Abyssal twin."
"That seems sensible" Atlanta agreed
"Right." Andrews affirmed, dropping the semi-somber mood with her loud decisiveness. "Once San Juan and the Taffies finish bailing the girl out of jail, we'll have them sail from the nearest port. Atlanta can rendez-vous with them out at sea."
A horrible sound of crinkling and shattering plastic broke the conversation and all eyes came to Stewart, who sat with her usual calm demeanor broken by a slightly more intense than usual frustrated grimace.
In her hand, the pen she had been using to work out the Japanese language forms consisted only of a top and bottom, the central section she had been gripping was naught but shattered plastic, presumably still held in the tight in stained fist she had slammed shut over the table. Ink spilled over the various forms staining them in a dull black pool.
It took several seconds for the girl to figure out that all eyes were now on her and to turn towards the assemble trio, briefly casting them and angry glare before settling her face into her normal placid grumpiness. The trio returned several looks of shock and, in Atlanta's case a matronly disapproving glare.
"Apologies ma'am, my pen slipped." She answered, still grasping the writing implement with white knuckles.
"Um, okay." Andrews answered with nervousness in her voice, before recovering slightly after a few seconds of thinking. "That's okay, Mitchells is quite good at Japanese too, he can fix up the rest of it."
"I'm fine ma'am". Stewart assured. "Forgot my own strength' the destroyer answered, with telling quickness.
"Are you sure?" The woman asked with genuine concern.
"Yes ma'am." Stewart replied
She turned to Atlanta, who still cast a disapproving glare at Stewart. "Maybe taking Stewart with you would be a good idea, get some escort for you on the way to rejoin Iowa and she's been cooped up in her for a few days, a sortie might help."
"There's no need for that ma'am." Stewart defended, "as I said earlier, just forgot my own strength."
"Which seems to me to indicate that you're distracted. In any case, Atlanta still needs an escort, I could ask the Japanese if you feel unfit for combat duty."
Stewart bristled slightly, standing suddenly, her hand still stained black, "no ma'am. Still fit for duty." She said hastily.
"Excellent, eat up and kit out, Atlanta is in charge of the mission timetable, just let us know when you leave and expect to be there."
"Ma'am." Stewart and Atlanta announced together.
Andrews began her work again, getting a sentence into her reports before glancing up to affirm that both girls were still there.
"Damn it, I said before you Shipgirls aren't sailors. You don't need permission to be dismissed." She made a shooting motion, "go. Bring me a battleship or who or whatever is in that cave."
"Ma'am." Both ships announced again. Before Stewart did a parade ground approved about face and exited the room, followed by an irate Atlanta